Monday, April 19
No excuses this time, just a failure to write anything of note for a couple of days. Meh. And I do want to write about every day, because that is the very essence of blogging for me. It is my life, not just the interesting bits. I have interesting days and I have crap days. My life isn't on a permanently high level of excitement, I'm afraid, even if my quality of writing is. Ahem.Friday, 9th April (Continued)
I left it last time by mentioning that Girl was coming over to mine that evening, to watch a film and to do whatever. I met her at the Tube station, and was so pleased to see her after nearly 2 weeks away from each other. Texts and phone calls aren't nearly enough.
I cooked us some dinner (just call me Masterchef), and we went into my room to watch a DVD, although I'll be damned if I can remember what it was. 28 Days Later, perhaps? Meh. I really need to write things down as and when they happen, so that I can write about them here properly, a week and a half later. No short-term memory, you see? I need a list when I go to the supermarket, even if I'm only picking up less than 5 things, because I always, always forget one of the things I need.
It's weird, because I can remember with absolute clarity events from many years ago, down to the smallest detail, but I can't remember something which I thought about 5 minutes ago. I'm so weird.
But I digress.
I'm no Alistair Campbell (ex-Advisor to the PM, and also ex-Readers' Wives' Stories writer for porn magazines), so I won't attempt to write anything here that is anywhere near erotic or explicit. Suffice it to say that the sentence from the Observer article and the Bio page is still true. I'm pretty sure that Girl wouldn't appreciate me going into great long reams of description of what happened, so I will leave it at that.
And no, don't bother bombarding me with questions about it, because I'm not going to answer them.
This could be the first time that I'm actually not writing about things that have happened to me, which is a little weird for me. I spoke to Girl the other day about whether or not to write about these events, and any subsequent ones, and she made it quite, quite clear that she wouldn't appreciate me writing about this sort of thing.
I know that this is about me, and no-one even knows who she is, but I feel like I need to respect her wishes in this area. But then again, it's quite difficult to remain wholly honest in my writing here whilst not offending or alienating her. The perils of blogging...
Saturday, 10th April
Anyway, Girl stayed over that night, but had to leave early on the Saturday morning to go to work. And I mean early. I'd forgotten that 6.30am even existed on a Saturday morning (except for after the Law Ball and falling asleep on the night-bus, when I didn't get home until after 6.30...), and I'd barely slept the night before (no Kiwi, not because of that). Stupid bloody early mornings.
Obviously, after I'd walked Girl down to the Tube station, it was straight back to bed for a good 5 hours. Mmmm, lie-ins.
The rest of the day was a bit of a wash-out, if memory serves. No notes, you see, so I can't really remember exactly what happened. Meh. Obviously nothing interesting then.
Sunday, 11th April
I got moaned at by Girl for inviting her over after watching the Arsenal game on Sunday afternoon in the pub. The worst thing is that she'd asked the night before what time she should come over that evening, and I'd said sometime around 6.30pm. Stupidly, I mentioned that I'd be watching the football up till that time, something which she picked up on instantly.
It's only playful moaning, thank God, but I must make a determined effort to let football take a back seat, or at least an unmentioned front seat. It's not my fault, this is pretty much the first time I've been in a serious relationship, and I'm still unsure exactly how to go about. Well, that's not strictly true, I'm more unable to change my ways because I've gone so long without someone like Girl in my life. I've got used to the single life, and all that goes with it.
This is also why Girl gets annoyed with me, since I don't phone her or contact her every day. It's not that I don't want to, it's just that I don't even think about doing it. I don't know how to go about these things properly, and I pretty much always get it wrong. Talk about a steep learning curve.
She came round that evening, even with a little gentle admonishment to me, which was a good thing. Take-away pizza was definitely the way to go (hey, I'd already cooked a decent meal that weekend, so it was all about pizza), and I think we watched another film. I'm not sure though, stupid memory.
We spent most of the evening / night lying in my bed, talking and (as the Americans would say) "fooling around". Before you all get too excited, no, nothing that serious happened. Sorry to let you all down again, but taking it slow is doing quite nicely at the moment. What's the point of rushing into things like that? I'm in a loving relationship, so why is there this desperate need to get physical straight away?
It is here that I expect the "men" amongst you to be pretty much exasperated with me, and almost shouting at the scream. So fucking what? I find it so very strange that certain of my housemates (as an example) are solely interested in "making the fuck" (the comedy phrase currently doing the rounds in my living room, amongst others). They go to such trouble to have a one-night stand, but why not find a girl that you want to see every night, and who also wants to see you?
Currently, two of my housemates are engaged (well, not at this instant, ovbviously) in "sympathy sex" with their respective ex-girlfriends, coincidentally both called Sarah. The problem herein is that for one of them, the strings are still attached. It'll all end in tears, just like their actual relationship, come to think of it. Do I ask questions about their intentions? Do I fuck! Let them get on with it, and fuck themselves up completely. The problem is that I don't get the same lack of questioning. I get lots of questions, to which I try to give very few answers.
I think they know that I still "have my V-plates" (Girl's phrase), be it prior to the article or after, and are so very excited (mocking?) that I've found someone, but haven't slept with her yet, even though we've been seeing each other for nearly 2 months. 2 hours is about average for them, or so they claim. True men, right?
Monday, 12th April
Anyway, she slept here again, and this time we were able to have a bit more of a lie-in, since she didn't have to leave until around midday. I'm still getting used to sharing my bed, and it doesn't help that it is only a single one (the student problem, I believe that is called). I'm sure that I can get used to it, along with all of the other "relationship-things". Why that is in quote-marks, I'm not quite certain.
I should have knuckled down to starting some revision on the Monday, but it was a Bank Holiday, which meant a shitload of football on the TV, and a necessary trip to the pub to watch some of it. Mmmm, addictions.
I think it was just me and Phil (note the disapperance of "Phil and I" from my writing. Mmm, grammatical inconsistency and errors) there that day, although I'm yet again uncertain. Phil is without doubt the weirdest of my housemates, and is quite possibly clinically insane.
'Twas he who created the characters of Dave Sexy, Steve Wick, Bob Frog and the (based-on-a-true-90s-footballer) Ian Woan. He also takes great pleasure in shouting out the following phrases at random times, often in song form:
- Horse
- Elf
- If you love the horse, Dave Sexy
- Raaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay-cism
- Ho-mo-phobia, ho-mo-phobia, ho-mo-phobia, we hate fucking poofters!
- Goat (also the nickname of another of my housemates)
- Locust (again, a nickname of someone else we live with)
- Big Fat Gay Mole (yet another housemate)
Like I said, a fucked-up person. He's also an incredible lightweight when it comes to drinking, which makes it especially hilarious when we all drink, since we're all sober, but he's nigh-on delirious. This is when the chants get louder, more aggressive and faster.
Don't even begin to ask me to explain, since there is absolutely no explanation I can give which will get anywhere near penetrating his mind and discovering the depths from which he creates these characters / chants. Ahh, Phil, you fucking weirdo.
That was about the entirety of Monday, to be honest. Fun, fun, fun all the way. But no revision done yet this holiday, and this was the start of the third week. I'm so going to fail these exams. But at least you'll be able to read all about it here.
My current priorities:
- Girl
- This blog
- Football
- Films
- Music
- Going out
- Lounging around doing nothing
- Sleeping
- Staring into space
- Revision
I'm so unbelievably screwed for these exams. Fuck.
