My Mumbling Thoughts

Wednesday. My favorite day of the week. Hump day. Middle of the week. Halfway there. Almost Friday.

Almost to the end.

For some reason I've been feeling "meh" recently. Not bad. Not good. Not overly anything. Just....blah, I suppose. Blah is probably the best description I can give it, if I bothered trying. I'm just kind of here, with not much to do, inside, looking out my window at the same grey, desolate days.

Wow, desolate. That doesn't sound good. But desolate it is.

I know for a fact that I'm nowhere near as bad as I used to be like last year. I can still get out of bed, brush my teeth and hair and smile for the most part whenever I go into the kitchen and see my babies. I don't mentally beat myself up saying that I'm a lame-ass that never does anything except mope in my room. I still go to my lectures. I'm working on my work (even though I have to grit my teeth and plow through it). Generally my Things Around The Flat stay clean and tidy. My room doesn't look like a homeless shelter. At first glance, it would seem that I'm fine.

But goddamn if I don't feel something in my throat starting to form. A lump that has a familiar feeling, something that I could start choking on if I don't spit it out now. I know the drill. I know what has to be done. I know where it's leading.

A couple of weeks before I left for the Christmas holidays, I wasn't feeling too great. I knew that I was down and that I should see someone, but I just put it off because I thought that everything would be fine once I got back home. Everything is always better when I go back home. And it was. Life was hunky dory.

Then I came back, and not even a week later I had that furious meltdown where I just sobbed and cried until I thought that my face would be permanently swollen and purple. True, the weep-a-thon did relieve some of what I was carrying round inside, but ever since then I've just been wandering around with this unsettling feeling inside of me and I can't seem to shake it.

I spoke to Helen about it (because Helen is always the person I speak to when it comes to...well....anything), and she said that maybe I should consider popping down to pay Fran a visit. Yes, I had been thinking the same thing for a while now, but gah, it's just that first phone call that's always a pisser for me. It seemed to be such a difficult task, because even though I know that speaking to Fran has helped in the past, I thought maybe I could just battle through this on my own without anybody sitting across from me with a notepad and pen asking questions. So I kept putting it off for a couple more weeks while the lump in my throat continued to grow and I found it more difficult to breathe.

About two weeks ago I found myself down at the medical centre for non-counseling related things, but decided since I was down there, I might as well ask about the uni's counseling centre and if it would be okay for me to pop round the corner and see if I could book a quick appointment with Fran. That is when I was told some terrible news that Fran was no longer there! In fact, the bloody counseling centre wasn't even there! They had to change some things and now I needed to start over from the beginning and be referred by our university's doctor.

Ugh. Effort.

But I did it anyway.

Now I'm going in for my first session next Thursday to meet with my new counselor, Maria. For some reason I'm more nervous this time around, because I'm not ridiculously depressed like last year, but I can feel myself on a familiar path. And last year I knew that the main reason why I was so down was because my finances were in a horrible state and I didn't know how to deal with it. Yes, there were some other underlying issues that I didn't even know about, but mostly the reason why I was so torn up was pretty blatant. This time, however, I'm going in because...what? Life is too hard? I can't hack it? Maybe I just like to hear myself talk about how blah my life is?

Part of me kind of knows that I'm just really stressed out about work. Another part of me isn't sure if it's just the work or if there's a hidden iceberg lurking in the back of my subconscious waiting for me to crash into it. Either way, I'm hoping that me going back into my counseling sessions will help shine a light on whatever is nagging at the back of my brain so I'm not just wandering around aimlessly in the dark.

Posted by Sam at 11:54 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

This Sunday I've spent the majority of my time in bed reading the GINORMOUS newspaper I bought yesterday for a pound, or reading one of the four girly books I bought on offer at Waterstones. Yesterday was a beautiful day, one that I haven't seen in London for a while now, and I spent my entire Saturday out in Central with my Ger-Bear who came up for a one night visit. We literally walked all over London and it was so nice out that I didn't even bring a jacket with me. Of course I'm not going to babble on about my day just yet. I'll vlog about it later over yonder, you know, once I've showered and don't look like a greasy cat. I have pictures to include and I just think it's bitchin', because I hardly ever (well, never) take pictures when I go out. And I want to share them with the Internet.

What I do want to talk about is how ass backwards and fucked up my life is. Oh, Universe! You are SO. FUNNY. Only not funny in the slightest. Why? Because that one night stand that I thought I'd never see or hear from ever again turned out to be a little too interested in me for my liking. Yes. The overly eager 19-year-old (!) army surveyor would not. stop. ringing. me. He would also not. stop. texting. me. The texting! Jesus, the texting! All he would do is send me a text, then ring three times, then text again asking if I was ignoring him, and how come I wasn't answering, and again, why don't I answer my phone?

Um, I don't know buddy. Maybe because we only slept with each other ONE TIME, and you being super duper clingy and all kind of suffocating is really off-putting for a chick that has severe mental issues when it comes to men.

It's really ironic, though, isn't it? How I've been going on about how I'd really like to "find someone" and how I'm "ready" and all that nonsense. Then here comes along this 6'2" dude that is ALL ABOUT relationships and whatnot and immediately I'm like, whoa! Hold your horses mister! I'm not ready for all of that. Especially considering the fact that I've only know him for a nanosecond.

Bless him. A couple of weeks ago he sent me a text asking if he could come for a visit and hang out. I was slightly confused because a.) guys don't do that, and b.) what were his ulterior motives? Because guys obviously have ulterior motives all the time, no matter what, according to the Psycho Side of my brain.

So I agreed (even though something inside of me felt really off about it all). I said, sure, yeah, why not. Come back for a visit. We'll have a good time, a good shag and whatevs. Nothing weird about that. Let's just keep it casual, nothing too fancy.

I suppose agreeing to let him come for a visit, though, was also an invitation for him to CALL and TEXT me NON-STOP. I was out at my friend, Ryan's gig, and after I told him that I was out with some friends at a gig, he STILL KEPT CALLING AND TEXTING letting me know that he was bored, watching 300 and "what were we going to do over the weekend?"

Well, not much at this rate. That was my first red flag that something wasn't right. I don't like the phone in general (horrible invention; I really only use it for the time), so to have it constantly going off while I was out and about was really annoying. I don't like to be annoyed. I like for people to get the hint that I'm out doing things with my friends and I don't want to be rude and unsociable by texting back a response that only says, "Lol!" It's retarded.

When it was the end of the week and time for him to arrive, I had barely made an effort, I wasn't wearing any make-up and I couldn't even be bothered to tidy my room. He got to my uni two hours earlier than I was anticipating anyway, and I actually cringed when the phone started ringing. Now I had to entertain another human being for an entire weekend? Seriously? I was not in the mood for that.

He didn't stay the whole weekend though, thank goodness. He only stayed for one night because I was flat-out exhausted from already going out three nights in a row. I think I was running on a total of ten hours of sleep and I didn't want to sit and talk about what he does in the army, or what his friends do in the army, or what his plans were while he was in the army. He just yabbered on and on and I caught myself drifting into my own thoughts while we ate our dinner at Wagamamas. This wasn't right. He was lovely, but we didn't click. We didn't mesh. We didn't gel. It just wasn't there.

After he left, I was really confused. I was also really tired, but mostly confused. What was wrong with me? How come I couldn't get on with this guy who was, yes, a little brash, but still nice enough all the same? He was really nice, and lovely. But he was also just not my type. It would seem that our personalities were not a good mix and I knew it when he told me that he liked Nickelback.

I'd have to disagree with that. I'd also have to disagree that their "latest album really rocks." It does not rock. Nickelback sucks.

So I hoped that he wouldn't ever call me or text me ever again. I also pushed it out of my mind that I was some crazy woman that freaks out every time a guy tells her he's interested in more than "just sex." Sure, Aidan said he wanted to "get to know me" but I wasn't entirely sure I wanted to get to know him. So I marked it down as a strange incident and that I would wait until I found someone that I did click with immediately and who didn't constantly talk about themselves whilst bragging about how awesome and amazing they are at their job.

That is until he sent me a text again, just like clockwork, this past Thursday, asking if I wanted to go out again. His plan this time was to get a hotel in Central. We'd spend the day roaming the city and spend the night "shagging our brains out" (his words, not mine. Ew). His other text was just plain minging, to be quite honest, and I didn't even dignify it with a response.

Then yesterday, he started again with the ringing and the texting and the Bothering Me While I'm Out Having Fun. It was approximately half eleven when I told Trish, "this is crazy. I'm not even DATING HIM."

I decided right then and there to cut off all ties. This couldn't go on. This was driving me INSANE. I felt like it was a complete role reversal, but damn, I don't think even I would have jumped all over a person I was interested in like he did. He was like a terrier with ADD and needed to be put on Ritalin immediately.

Trish wrote out a text for me the first time, but it was too long-winded and I just wanted to say something that he couldn't even respond to. So I asked Ryan and he told me to tell him I was seeing someone else, that it was complicated and that we had a history. I opted for a little white lie, but now that I think about it, I kind of wish I just told him that I didn't want to speak to him anymore. I wish I would have just said, "heya, no, I'm not ignoring you, but I don't think I'm ready for all this. I'll give you a call sometime." Even though I'd never call. Ever. It seems a bit more truthful, and I would want to be treated the same if it were me.

Either way, it's done. I don't think this whole situation has helped me any with opening up to men and learning how to trust, but it has definitely shown me the opposite end of the fence when it comes to commitment. I guess I'll have to reiterate my request to the universe:

Yes, I would like to find someone, and yes, I am ready to be in a relationship. BUT WITH SOMEONE WHO IS SANE AND KNOWS WHEN TO LEAVE ME ALONE.

Thanks.

Posted by Sam at 03:51 PM | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBacks (0)

Before I get going, I just wanted to put it out there that I'm now "live" on the web. Oh yeah. I'm officially a "vlogger" (is it just me, or is that word disgusting?). If you can't get enough of me here on My Mumbling Thoughts, then maybe you would like to hear me mumble over here. I'm not sure how often I'll post a video, because MY LORD, editing is a mission (especially since I'm still learning what cool tricks I can get up to in iMovie), and I have a lot of uni work that I've fallen behind on, but we'll see. Should be good times either way.

With that said, I guess I can go on to say that I survived the great VD without spilling any blood. I actually had a half decent Valentine's Day considering there seemed to be a substantial amount of couples gallivanting around, and I didn't vomit in my mouth every three minutes. So yes, overall, a very good Valentine's Day. All of the babies headed out for a night in Central with some of their friends from home, and I stayed in with Trish, Alex and one of Alex's freshers, Jemma, who is a delight. We figured since we're low on cash and have boyfriends that couldn't be there to share the day (okay, all three of them have boyfriends that they couldn't be with), we'd spend it inside in our jammies, lots of chocolate and girly films. And wine of course. There definitely needed to be wine.

We ordered an Indian takeaway and it was absolutely delicious, you know, after I waited THREE HOURS to get it. First of all, I'm never ordering from that place ever again. And second of all, they were so rude and inconsiderate, just taking their sweet time to deliver my food for the second time after they got my order wrong. Whatever. It got there in the end, and the leftovers this afternoon was amazing.

There was also some mildly entertaining boy that kept on ringing the flat and wanted to talk to us through the little speaker box. Bless his heart, he was pissed out his face, but it was fun to chat to him for a short time and have him go on and on about how sexy mine and Trish's accents are.

Yes, it was an okay day. I didn't cry, sit in my room alone and feel sorry for myself (or vlog) which is a good thing. I wasn't even that bothered by other people gushing over their Valentine's day gifts from their boyfriends. Don't get me wrong, these people are my friends and I love them like family. I probably couldn't handle listening to strangers gush about their boyfriends, but whatever. I digress.

I was really happy for them, and Alex showing off her giant Valentine's Day card from her boyfriend, or seeing Katie's toaster that toasts the words "I love you" into her bread, was really cute and sweet to me. I didn't roll my eyes or sigh with annoyance, because that's not cool. They're in happy relationships, and that makes me happy for them. Just because I'm rolling around in my Singledom doesn't mean that they shouldn't be allowed to have a moment of "awww's" from an audience of girls.

I kind of think of it like my quitting smoking. Just because I've stopped smoking (almost four months now!) doesn't mean that I'm going to scoff and chastise those that have continued to inhale that smoke that I once took so much pleasure in. I really don't have any room to say anything, and I don't like being a hypocrite.

Speaking of me being a non-smoker now, can I just take a moment and give myself a pat on the back? I thought I was always going to smoke, because man, when you do smoke, they are just SO. GOOD. But now, I find them absolutely disgusting and I don't even like the smell of secondhand smoke. Occasionally I'll get a pang to have one drag off a cigarette, but it only lasts for a couple of minutes and then I forget about it. I'm really glad I stopped for a multiple of reasons, but mostly because I just didn't like knowing that I was addicted to something, that I needed them. It was such an unhealthy codependent relationship I had with them. So here's to me being smoke free for many more months to come.

But now I feel preachy, and I hate getting into the politics of smoking and not smoking. Or being in a relationship and not being in one. Who cares in the end? So long as you're a happy bunny and life is good, then keep on rocking and rolling.

Posted by Sam at 02:32 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

It's about 1:15 in the afternoon right now, and I decided to take a break from my "getting ready routine" so that I could update this here blog. And of course, just as I open a "Create New Entry" window, about five people decide to start talking to me on Skype.

Okay, maybe like two people, but whatever. It's hard for me to multi-task sometimes!

Anyway, I decided to update my blog to write about how much of an internet geek I am. Seriously. Just tattoo NERD on my forehead. Why? Oh, I don't know. Maybe because I spent a total of SIX HOURS on YouTube yesterday and watched this girl.

I just want y'all to know first of all that I 100% blame Trish for my newfound obsession with watching Vloggers on YouTube. I also blame her for the fact that even though I don't have any money whatsoever, I'm seriously contemplating selling some of my useless precious belongings on ebay so I can afford my very own handy dandy video camera and start my own vlog! I mean, it's bad enough that I already have this blog, but then to add on a VLOG. Seriously? How much more self-absorbed can I be?

A lot. Trust me.

So I am truly an internet geek. When I was thirteen, I used to sit in chat rooms for HOURS. Doing what you may ask. Well, I wasn't talking to pedophiles, that's for sure. No. I was PAINTING AVATARS. If you know what that means, then well, we should talk. 'Cos I'd like to take my mad painting skills to another level. If you don't know what I'm talking about, I'm sorry I shared that embarrassing information about myself with you, and I'd like you to pretend I never said anything about it.

Right. So this whole vlogging thing is new to me, and interesting, and yeah I might be four years behind the times, but whatever. It's new TO ME. And because I am such a geek and need to figure out what all of this about, it'll probably suck up at least two weeks of my life. I'll be inside, the curtains will be drawn, people will ask for me to come out with them for a drink and I'll be all, "Sure! Just after I'm finished with editing this one clip!" And then before I know it I'll have a wicked case of jaundice and will forget who my IRL friends are and my internet web friends will be the only people that matter.

I don't even want to talk about the most recent boy that has mind fucked me. No. I want to edit a video clip that Trish and I made yesterday in iMovie. My laundry that I planned on doing FOUR DAYS AGO, is still in my room. I don't even know what my room is now. It's a scary cross between a tornado ripping through it and some weird science project, because who knows what's growing in here.

Gross.

I suppose if I were to start vlogging, then first of all, I'd have to purtify myself every time I clicked the record button. As of right now I'm chilling in my room with no make-up and fluffy hair. But y'all wouldn't know that because these are just words. And I'd also have to endure listening to my god awful voice. I sound congested, ALL THE TIME. But I'm not. That's just my voice. And it sucks.

Right. I'm going to end this now, because I've revealed way too much of my Crazy and I need to tuck her away. And make some lunch. I haven't eaten today.

Dammit! I lost the game!*

* Look it up, yo.

Posted by Sam at 08:13 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

I slept all day today. ALL. DAY. I woke up because my phone was ringing, listened to a woman yabber on about how my university sucks, went back to bed, woke up sometime around 3p.m., had a shower and after I made some food, I fell back asleep around 6p.m. and woke up around half 8 when I decided that it was probably best for me to finally get out of bed and be semi-social. (Wow, that was a LONG sentence)

I figured since I've been such a lazy shit all day, I should probably update my blog. Because THAT will make me feel less guilty, obviously.

Ugh, it was just such a non day. I hate those days where you feel more compelled to exist in bed and ignore the door whenever someone stops by and knocks. I felt a lot happier laying in my room that is piling up with dirty clothes, extreme dust bunnies and dirty sheets. I hate dirty sheets, and yet today, I stayed wrapped up in them with my face buried in my pillows. I didn't open my curtains. I didn't answer my phone (after it woke me up with bad news at half 9 in the morning). I just stayed in the same fetal position all day listening to the new Franz Ferdinand album* on constant repeat.

That's all I did.

Sometimes you need those days, though, in order to prepare yourself for the hellish days that are about to come hurtling forward for the rest of the week. Like tomorrow for instance, I have to go to the medical centre to see one of the doctors just so I can be referred to our counseling service. It seems like our university counseling centre no longer exists and we have to go to different channels to see someone so we can sob about our unimportant day-to-day problems. Hopefully Fran is still there, because I'm really not in the mood to whinge to someone new.

I'm also going to be having lunch with my friend, Dave, that I haven't properly caught up with in ages, I'll be sending in my yearly chlamydia test sample (always good to get your check ups!) and then meeting up with Trish so that we can get our heads around our Business of Writing project. I also have to go and pay our university finance department a visit AGAIN, because they are awesome retarded. Along with all of that fun stuff, I have laundry to do and I need to clean my room in general because it's disgusting, yet again. It's ridiculous how dirty our rooms seem to accumulate filth. Or maybe it's just me being fussy and seriously OCD. Speaking of that, I can't even think about the state of our refrigerator right now. It upsets me too much.

It's just all of those little things that pile up that slowly seem to grab hold of your ankles and begin to drag you down. And it seems like it's all I can really focus on at the moment, which leaves my writing on the very back burner and it suffers. I suppose if I were to look at the upside (there's an upside?!) I could be proud of the fact that this whole term I've only missed one lecture. For me, the girl that used to never show up, is a pretty damn good improvement. And I do have a much better grasp on what's going on with my course. So yeah, there's a semi upside.

I don't even think there is a point to this post. It's just me saying hey, what's up? I plan on drinking an entire bottle of wine to myself on Saturday and watching nothing but chick flicks in my pajamas. And not thinking about the most unimportant thing that has unfortunately started worming it's way into my brain: boys.

What about you?

* This Franz album is definitely different, but it's nice to have some new tuneage. I think I like it. A lot.

Posted by Sam at 01:19 AM | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBacks (0)

The secrets that we keep we say them in our sleep
And wrestle down our souls if they would speak
I watched you board a train in the London rain
And waved bye-bye as you slipped out of view

Diane
Diane
We'll make it out together
We'll make it out together
We'll make it out
We'll make it out

In your dreams when the smile now comes
You're mumbling words with a lazy tongue
We lie together when we say it's love
Who were you just thinking of, Diane?

Diane
Diane I don't say it but I know you know

The theme returns so deep
And visits us in sleep

To define the you and I as we

So we pass the time and occupy our minds
And close our eyes and hope that we'll be fine

Diane
Diane
We'll make it out together
We'll make it out together
We'll make it out
We'll make it out

And I may leave in time you'll see
I'll come right back for you
And I may leave in time you'll see
I'll come right back for you, for you

Posted by Sam at 10:25 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Yesterday London looked liked I had never seen it before: covered in about six inches of snow. Uni closed down for the day (today as well!) and as far as I could tell, the city shut down. None of the buses were running, the trains had severe delays and a good majority of the shops were closed. For those twenty-four hours, London was silent except for the squeals of people playing in the snow in the distance.

Our flat decided to stay inside for the whole day and not bother with the giant snowball fight that happened behind our house. I made stew, we drank many cups of tea and stayed bundled underneath three layers of clothing and blankets because our heating isn't working in our building. Bastards.

All day the snow silently fell and Emma and myself decided we'd be brave little ducklings and walk to the other side of Lee House to do our laundry. My room was filthy and so cringing that I couldn't even bear to leave my door shut; I felt a lot better knowing that I was keeping the air circulating in there.

On the second outing of our trip to go and put our washing in the dryers, I bumped into my good friend, Ryan that I've mentioned here before. He was down at uni for a little visit and was looking for a space to rehearse for the gig that he's playing tonight in Brick Lane. He asked me if him and his two fellow band-mates could practice in our kitchen, and I said of course! That would be fine with me. It was only Sara and Jess in there and they weren't doing anything except watching re-run Sex and the City episodes. I handed him my key card and told him to just tell Sara and Jess that I sent them up so the girls didn't worry about the random musicians that were coming in and taking over a corner of the kitchen space.

The guys played their entire set and halfway through I decided to go and get Livvi, because I knew that it'd be a special treat for her. She has had a bit of a crush on Ryan (then again, who doesn't have a crush on Ryan?) and I knew that she'd love to see him play up close and personal. It wasn't long until our kitchen was transformed into a mini music studio with me and the babies all listening in like little groupies.

It was such a cool vibe, though, with us chilling around the table, fresh cups of tea steaming in our hands and the snow, seemingly relentless, falling outside our window. Quite possibly one of the best snow days I've had in a long time.

Today the sun has come out and the snow is slowly but surely beginning to melt away. I'm not a big fan of snow in the first place, so I can only hope that it leaves as quickly as possible. Besides, tonight Ryan is supposed to be playing a gig in Brick Lane, and me and some of the babies want to go and get front row seats. Instead of cups of tea, though, we want to be holding pints of cider or some kind of strong vodka to warm us up from the cold travel.

Posted by Sam at 11:34 AM | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBacks (0)

Alex's 21st birthday and she wanted to go to the bop. Ugh, the bop. Seriously? THE BOP? Really? But what about my streak of not going to the bop all year? I was going to break that now? Well, I suppose it was her birthday, and what the birthday girl wants, the birthday girl gets.

So I was going to go the bop. First things first: I needed to get absolutely wasted before I even got to the front doors, which meant drinking an entire bottle of rosé by myself, a double vodka and orange, plus a random shot and a glass of Strongbow. By the time I made it to the bop, I was already picking out which guys I wanted to pull later in the evening, and Sharon was in full force talking about where she lived in America and putting on the World's Ugliest Southern Accent, because for some reason they love it over here. Strange.

I bought another drink at the bop (a Strongbow maybe?), stashed my coat away some place safe where I could get away not paying the £1 for the cloak room, and then headed straight for the dance floor where I had a couple of dances with my group of "friends" that I've hardly seen all year. We danced and danced up until I saw Jon, ran up to him, jumped up, wrapped my legs around his waist and shouted, "OH MY GOD, I LOVE YOU AND HAVE MISSED YOU SO MUCH!" He clearly wasn't anywhere near the wasted point that I was at, but gave me a big kiss and said, "let me get a drink. We'll have a dance later, yeah?"

I slid off of him, and just as I was about to go back, I saw Jess, Hannah and Sara walk in with Guy and some other dude that I had never met before. I gave them all big hugs and kisses and they laughed because they were still relatively sober and I was off my tits.

"Sam! Hey! This is Aidan. He's my friend from Bristol," Hannah told me. I said hi to him but then wandered off to find Jess and Sara. They said they were in the process of getting some MD and I was very much up for that.

I saw one-eyed Jack, and I gave him a hug as well, called him a cunt and said that I missed seeing his greasy face around. I don't know why people put up with me, but just like my ugly southern accent, they seem to like my obnoxious drunkenness and laugh along. Jack and I had a small conversation and somehow I managed to end up in the small bar where I bought yet another pint of Strongbow even though I wasn't finished with my first one. I sat down with the girls and Aidan and decided that he was really fit and I should try and get with him.

Oh, we chatted for ages. He would tell me a fuckload of information that he would have to re-tell me in the morning because I wouldn't remember any of it. We went to the toilets, I saw Adam 1, chatted to Sam's girlfriend's twin sister (awkward), danced some more in the main room and gave boy Sam the finger as he walked by and I danced with Aidan.

Sharon is such a bitch.

We (Aidan and myself) didn't stay for long, because I was wrecked and we decided that we should definitely go back to mine for a cup of tea and sexy times. As we left the gate, I thought to myself how I was really glad that I decided to shave my legs earlier. I didn't plan on bringing anyone home, but I did and it was amazing.

He quickly established himself as my Best One Night Stand Ever. It wasn't just because he could make my toes curl and I didn't fall asleep halfway through (which I've done before), but it was also because he was just so cool and casual about everything. He was such a little chatterbox as well talking, talking, talking about his future plans, his life in the army, his ex-girlfriend (which wasn't weird to talk about), his house in Bristol, how he met Hannah, blah, blah, blah. And because he was an entire foot taller than me, I just curled up in his man nook and fell asleep listening to him quiz me about the events from the entire night.

"I bet you'll wake up tomorrow and be like, 'who is this ugly mug I brought back home.'"

"Don't be silly," I said.

"Me silly? You're the silly one tonight, drinking and doing drugs. I bet you don't even know my name."

"Sure I do....Derek?"

"Wrong. Try again."

"Um, Charlie?"

"It's Aidan. And you're Sam. You're twenty-three, studying creative writing and are from Virginia."

"Wow, I told you all of that?"

"Yep."

"I must have really liked you to tell you the real truth about me. Usually I make people up and pretend to be someone else."

Oh, he was lovely. He even stuck around in the morning time to have a cup of tea, watch a Harry Potter film and have a quickie before he left. He asked me to come out with him for lunch, but I was so tired and hung over that I passed and after he left I rang Livvi to tell her about the hot, sexy times that just left our flat.

Yeah it was good times, but like most things nowadays, I don't expect anything to come about, even if he did say he wanted to come back up with some of his army mates and pay us all a visit. I doubt I'll ever see or hear from him again, which is perfectly fine. The girl I once was might believe that there was a chance, but the woman I am now knows better than to dream up funny little fantasies. Instead I'll just mark him down as another in Sam's History Books and go on with life as normal. Besides, there's another guy that I'm seeing on Friday for a "drink" which Livvi said was a "date".

I really do need to quit. Bad Sharon.

Posted by Sam at 10:19 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)