12.19pm I don't quite know how to respond to a lot of things that have been happening recently. I suppose a blog is the place where I can really say these things, so here goes: I've been with my boyfriend, Dan, for a really long time. Well actually, it feels like years, I suppose, but it's really not that long. We met at uni in our first week, but we didn't actually start going out until my 20th birthday. He made his move halfway through 'Don't Stop Me Now'. That song still makes me cringe. That's probably not a good thing, is it? Well anyway, over the summer we went to Paris. I loved it. I always have. When my mother took me there when I was a teenager I loved it. When I went with my best guy friend I loved it. I also love Dan, so that helped. A nice city is made beautiful by someone you love. The thing is, he went the cheesy route and asked me to marry him when we were up the Eiffel Tower. I said no. I don't really understand why I did - not because I want to marry him, but that moment was so perfect, I really thought it would have swept me away and I would have said yes. The thing is, I didn't. And I'm not sure how it's going to affect us. I knew that I was going to say no if he did ask me, so I stuck to my guns. And everyone I know thinks I'm strange. Well, I've only told my best friend, Amy, and she thinks I'm clinically insane. Of course she does - she got married this summer. I love him, I really do; I just don't want to get married yet. I think if he asked me again at Christmas I'd probably say yes. I feel like being engaged might not be all that bad. But shouldn't I wait until I know that I can spend the rest of my life with this guy without straying? Perhaps I'm being too much of a perfectionist. All I actually know is that I need to go back to Paris and reinstate it as a wonderful city. I don't want all these proposal-related memories: the city just doesn't deserve that.