After a wonderful week at home, too quickly it was time to head back to London. I ran around doing some last minute shopping with my mother, had a last slice of pizza for lunch, and then after a delicious steak dinner, we piled into the car and drove to the airport.
I didn't get to spend too much time in the airport lounge, and only had one glass of wine, but probably that was for the best, as I've definitely already had enough of flying after drinking on my way over here.
It was a smooth flight where I actually slept on the plane, mostly because I'd seen all of the movies already. (I did watch "Drive", which was rather....weird. Kind of an action movie pretending to be an art house film). My seatmate turned out to be a NY-based film director who is currently working on a Stanley Kubrick biopic. Unfortunately he didn't seem that interested in talking about his work, so we mostly chatted about frequent flier programs (he was an AA-Platinum member as well).
I for some reason got it into my head that I should walk home from Hammersmith station, and while I managed that successfully (even with my 32-pound duffel bag), I think next time we'll go back to taking cabs.
I got home and tried to resolve the "nap vs food" issue, although right while I was in the middle of that choice, the Young Dutchman kept with tradition and struck up a video call with me on Skype. How on earth does that boy seem to know the instant I've walked in the door, every time? But he makes me laugh so much, I enjoyed chatting to him, remembering how much I miss him all over again.
I then went and did some quick grocery shopping and did some preparations for the party I was going to that evening, but just when I thought I might lie down and take a nap for a bit, my phone rang. It was the Young Dutchman!
"Hey, so my brother and I have just arrived in London and we were supposed to stay with Kellogg Boy, but he forgot that we were coming, so...." I finished the sentence for him. "You'd like to come and stay with me? Of course!"
To be gracious (and give me some time), they walked from Notting Hill Gate, so I had 20 minutes to clean up and get the place looking presentable. Thank goodness I'd cleaned before I left, so the place was actually in okay shape, I just had to make my bed and move the suitcases out of the way.
When the Young Dutchman and his brother arrived, we sat around eating olive bread and just chatting and catching up, and then we were supposed to go out to a friend's birthday party that evening. The Young Dutchman's brother was actually looking quite sick and feverish, so I debated whether we should all just stay home, as to be honest I wasn't actually all that keen to go, I'd only been going because the Young Dutchman and his brother were going (but now they were here!) Yet the Young Dutchman pointed out to me that it would be rude to skip this chap's birthday party, as he had been looking forward to us coming. (Downsides of being popular, I suppose, in that you know people are looking forward to seeing you). So we tucked the Young Dutchman's brother into my bed, and the two of us went out.
The party wasn't exactly raging, but so many people were delighted to see me and the Young Dutchman, that I do think it was the right move to go. Upstairs they were smoking shisha, but I just wasn't in the mood for it this evening, as I worried it might put me right over the edge. The Young Dutchman fixed me a few G&Ts, and then left me to chat to random people while he made the rounds. (Classic reason the Young Dutchman likes me, as he never actually talks to me at parties. Luckily I know he loves me, so I never see parties as our time to talk. We fit that in at other times).
Admittedly the story that he kept repeating was one that he'd already told me quite a few times, about a girl that he'd met on the night of the Christmas Ball (where I'd barely seen him, but since that's typical I hadn't worried about it). Apparently he claimed to be "in love" with this girl for an entire year, and when he met her again at the ball, relentlessly pursued her all evening. Apparently she confessed to liking him and they kissed, but she is already seeing someone else, a French guy who is apparently very nice and whom she has no real reason to break up with.
She agreed to see him for dinner the next night, and he again stated that she kissed him, but when he read me a text she'd sent him later, it really sounded like quite the brush-off. A classic, "Thanks for understanding, but as I told you, I have a boyfriend." He reads this as simply a challenge, where he will back off for a while and then get in touch with her again in three weeks. He's determined to date this girl, and to that point was telling anybody who would listen that he plans to behave himself in the new year, that he would be a serious student and wasn't going to sleep around anymore. After all, he wanted to prove to this girl that he wasn't just another player, that she could trust him as a real relationship candidate.
Because I love him dearly and want what is best for him, I really do hope that things work out with this girl. Yet, listening to her text with a woman's ear, what to him sounded encouraging sounded to me like the ultimate brush-off, the words of a girl who had slipped up in her loyalty to her boyfriend, but was trying to remove herself from temptation. I suppose we shall see how things work out in the end.
Towards the end of the evening I found myself trapped in the kitchen with this guy I know who is a doctor, who was really overly keen to talk to me. Apparently he's quite well-connected (he was sponsored in the US for a fellowship by CNN's Sanjay Gupta, and can count Charles Barkley, the professional basketball player, among the people on his phone who he can call for favours), but he's a bit too much the classic "high-flying playboy" for my taste. Sure, he can party with the Boston Red Sox when they win the World Series, but he's a bit too much into impressing girls, rather than getting to know them. I was tired and it was getting time to leave.
So I was grateful when the Young Dutchman came up and whispered in my ear that he had called a cab, and even more grateful when he came with my coat to fetch me, telling me it was time to go. We piled into the cab, got home to find his brother in bed and reading, and so I put the Young Dutchman to bed in my bed with his brother, while I took the air mattress on the floor. I have to say, I've actually been doing quite well by my guests, as it was quite comfortable! And so after some drunken late-night chat (the Young Dutchman and I have to keep to our usual pattern, after all), we fell asleep. Happy to be home, and happy to have my favourite boy with me. I've missed him so...
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