Movie Night (Again) with Sweetheart

Given that it was Good Friday, I had off from work today, but I still seemed to struggle to get anything done.  I needed to finish some files at work, go to the gym, and change in time to go to a barbecue at 4 PM, but it was like I just couldn't seem to make anything happen.

I finally got the files done by the end of the day, didn't even leave for the gym until 4 PM, and when I came home at 7 PM, wondered if it was too late by the time I had showered to go out.  Still, it seemed a waste of a day, so I texted Sweetheart to ask if he was going.

Good boy that he is, he used his ESP to figure out what I was really saying, and replied with:  "Movie night at mine?  Come over whenever."

I went over with a bottle of wine, and we at first mostly hung out drinking wine and trying to figure out how to set up a karaoke system that he'd bought over eBay.  We managed to get each piece working separately, but not together, before giving up.

We then put on a DVD that he'd gotten, "The Skin I Live In", although we had quite a few problems with the disc skipping and refusing to play properly.  Eventually about halfway through we gave up, put in a different DVD ('The Aristocrats"), but then decided that was lame as well, and so just sat there, drinking wine and chatting.  As I pointed out to him, the reason I came over was for the pleasure of his company, there were definitely worse ways to spend our time.

We talked about how he seemed to be developing an allergy to wine, his upcoming running of the Boston Marathon, and even how he was perhaps a bit more on edge recently because of how long it had been since he had sex.  Just one of those rambling, interesting conversations that meant it was nearly 1 AM by the time I left to go home.  Although gentleman that he is, he reminded me that it was time for me to go home and sleep in my own bed.

I struggled a bit to get out (turns out his front door has a second lock I was unaware of), and he laughed when he had to come out and let me out again, giving me a kiss and a friendly swat on the behind.  Ah yes, the guy I love spending time with, but who always sends me home at the end of the evening!

Drinks With Old Acquaintances

After an insanely intense gym session in the morning, I went into the office in the afternoon, as I needed to print out a few things and I was due to meet an old acquaintance for drinks after work.  This guy had been working in the office when I first started with my company years ago, and we got to know each other just from being in the office together.

It was strange, as he stopped by my desk so frequently that I assumed he was hitting on me, until I realised he was married and assumed I must have been imagining things.  Then we went out for drinks one evening, and he followed me from one location to another when I was going to a separate party, and made it pretty clear that he wanted to sleep with me.  I turned him down, of course.  He bought me a few expensive presents in an attempt to change my mind, and then after we moved on to different positions, I didn't see him much after that and we kept in touch mostly through Facebook.  He'd since had a kid and then changed companies, so when out of the blue he got in touch suggesting we grab drinks, I thought, "Why not?"

When I got downstairs to meet him, the first thing that struck me about him was that I'd forgotten he was a bit shorter than I was.  Which you don't really notice much with guys who are just friends, but the thing that hit me was how very keen he obviously still was.

Nevertheless, we went for drinks to an overly crowded bar where we had to stand (no space to sit), and we talked about work at first, but then he went for a second bottle of wine and started pressing me on why I'm still single, and then leaned in to sniff my perfume (remembering that he'd once bought me a bottle of perfume, even though I don't wear the stuff).  Given that there was nothing to smell, it was obvious that he just wanted to get in close, and I giggled nervously, not sure how to handle it all.

For on the one hand, I've been suffering from a real dearth of male attention lately, so it was flattering to  have a guy show at least some interest.  Yet, on the other hand, I was still dealing with a married man here.  But what's a little harmless flirting, right?  After all, it's not like he would do anything given that he was married.

So it totally threw me when he held up his left hand to show me that he was no longer wearing his wedding ring.  Apparently lots of trouble in that relationship, and while he didn't necessarily think it was all over, he was mostly pretty sure it was.

Which then had me in a panic as we finished our drinks to go on to our next locations (me to meet the running crew for drinks, him to meet a friend for Japanese whiskey), and he wanted me to come with him or at least split a cab.  It took my repeated insistence that Vauxhall was nowhere near Soho, that splitting a cab didn't make sense (no way did I want to be in an enclosed space alone with him) until he finally gave me a kiss on each cheek and let me go.

Flirting is such a tricky game, because it always seems like the guys who you are desperately flirting with have no idea that you are, and the guys you're not flirting with seem to think that you are.  I had to admit, my head was spinning, and wondering why I can't seem to get that kind of attention from the guys I want to.

And the worst is, there's no real way to say what I truly want to say: "I like you well enough as a friend, but I'm just not into you that way, even as I enjoy your attention on me."  (He had bought all of the drinks that evening, which was rather nice).  And I really wouldn't want to get involved with a divorced guy with kids (I've already got Italian Guy for that dilemma, and I like him better).

I got to Vauxhall and managed to find my way through the freezing cold to this party, which I was now 2.5 hours late for.  When I found the place, I realised that it was the same place we'd gone for dinner on the day of the Scouse wedding.  I'd thought it was small and crowded that day, but it was now on a whole new level, packed with young 20-somethings, and with an overly loud band playing on the lower level.

I could see that they were checking names off a list (there was supposed to be a £7 entry fee) at the bottom of the steps, but I didn't want to pay and discover that nobody I knew was there, so I texted both Princess and Pork Pie to see if they were around.  I got no response from Princess, but Pork Pie responded pretty quickly, so when the band stopped playing for a bit, I made my way downstairs (and past the lady checking names, who didn't notice me in the flow of people heading upstairs to the bar to grab a drink).

I got down there and found Princess, his girlfriend, Pork Pie, a girl who I'm not sure whether Pork Pie is still dating or not, the Scouse and his new wife, and Matt.  Obviously, I was most delighted to see Matt, and the two of us spent quite some time chatting, although limited by the fact that the noise in this place was so loud, we pretty much had to shout directly in each other's ears.

The place was so crowded as well, that we frequently found ourselves hanging onto the ceiling beams to steady ourselves in the crowds, or just hanging onto each other.  Matt went and fetched drinks for the both of us (I was at least doing well with boys buying me drinks this evening), and as we stood there in the basement, drinking beer from plastic cups in an overly noisy and crowded party, I couldn't help but think that it reminded me of being back at a US fraternity party, and there was a reason I hadn't liked those.

Pork Pie disappeared early, but then texted me to explain that he'd had a headache and just hadn't been in the right mood to be out.  I thought it was sweet of him to think to text me an explanation, until I compared texts with another friend of his and realised we'd both gotten the same message.  When I called him out on this, he replied, "Well you got your text first and then he got a copy so you are MORE IMPORTANT!"  Just made me giggle...

Finally, as it was now midnight, we all decided to head home.  I walked back to the Tube arm in arm with Princess' girlfriend, a really nice girl who I haven't gotten much of a chance to get to know yet, but she seemed eager to get to know me.  Although showing how she doesn't quite know the lay of the land, when Matt and I were hugging and I was joking about heading to Stockwell with him, she gave me a kiss as though we were actually parting.  Ah yes, Matt and I are close, but no way am I going south of the river with him!

So I travelled back north with Princess and his girlfriend, leaving them to head west mid-journey.  Where I found I had quite a few texts from the old co-worker, so I just sent him a brief message that I was heading home.

When I got out at home however, I found he'd texted me a bunch more times, asking to meet up (at midnight???) and as I was standing there, staring at my phone, I was even more startled when he rang me.  Unable to think of what to do, I just rejected the call, only to have him call again within seconds.

Good Lord.  He was obviously drunk, and I just didn't want to deal with him at that moment, so remembering what the Tall South African has told me about not answering the phone to drunk people, I let his next call ring out to voicemail, and then turned my phone off to ward off any further calls.

I'd been missing getting male attention lately, but not that kind of male attention, thank you very much!

Freezing Cold London Bridge Run

Work was going so nuts, that I figured I was going to be way too late to make it to this evening's run, but even though I was unable to leave my flat until 6:40 PM, I decided to make a run for it anyway.  After all, the weather was freezing cold, so it wouldn't be the worst thing ever if I missed the run, right?

To my surprise, when I arrived at the pub, everyone was still there, and they were just putting bags away down in the basement of the pub.  Roofie's Brother arrived just after me in fact, although with Sister Fister arriving at around the same time too, so I just shrugged, realising that although it was nice to see him, there was no way I was going to get a chance to talk to him.

I joined up with Cookie outside, and teased her about how cold it must be given that she was wearing long sleeves and gloves, whereas she normally runs in just a t-shirt.  Goodness it was frigid outside this evening!

We set off on the run and I kept up reasonably well for the most part, except at one turn in the City where I completely lost the group.  I stood there on the corner with my iPhone for a bit, trying to figure out where we were to run directly back to the pub, but as I was standing there, the group ran right back by me!

So I picked up the trail again, and ran all of the way back to the pub with the hare, joining up with Roofie's Brother and one other guy to run the last stretch along the river.  Had a good run when the other guy knew about a secret passageway running through a shopping mall, and so had the most surreal experience where we found ourselves running down carpeted hallways in this office/shopping centre, until we popped up back right near London Bridge station.

We got all of the way back to the pub, where I got the most excellent surprise when I saw Matt standing outside the pub.  I bounced over to him like a bunny rabbit, I was so happy to see him.  And the best thing was that he seemed equally delighted, even as I nearly tipped us both over with my enthusiastic hug.  One of the things I love most about Matt, is that he's always as happy to see me as I am to see him.

Cookie then went and got drinks for all three of us, and we went over to sit at a coffee table in the corner and chat.  Kind of weird honestly, to be sitting down at the hash, but it was good to get a chance to talk and catch up with them.

In the end, I spent my entire evening talking with just Matt and Cookie.  I did at one point glance around and spotted Roofie's Brother trapped in a corner with Sister Fister, but I didn't bother to make an effort to go talk to him.  Right at the end of the evening as he was leaving, he spotted me and made a bit show of blowing kisses to me from across the room, but that was really it for the two of us.  Kind of a shame, I can't quite figure out why that one died on us...

Cookie and I stayed for a half pint more each before deciding to call it an evening and head home.  It was such a cold night and it had been a fun run, but now we really wanted to go home and warm up a little!

American Comedy

I didn't do anything on Saturday beyond meet up with the Tall South African for coffee and then go to the gym.  The Tall South African had been in Italy on vacation this past week, and had finally returned and wanted to see me.  It was funny, because when I met him at the coffee shop, he immediately greeted me with a genuine, "You know?  I really missed you."  I had to laugh and smile, because as nuts as he makes me sometimes, I had really missed him too while he was gone.

Of course, he's up to his old tricks, hooking up with a stewardess on the flight on the way home (he left the details vague, saying it would be un-gentlemanly to say too much, but yet, "I'm not quite sure what the technical definition of joining the mile-high club is, but I'd definitely say I have a shot at membership after that flight".  Oh boy...  Although it makes me wonder, who are these women who will do things like that, on public flights, with men they have just met?

I was supposed to meet him at a party later that evening, but I just couldn't be bothered to go, which is how I got a phone call from him in the morning on the train back home.  Which, given that he'd been supposed to return home the night before meant he'd found a reason to stay in London overnight (and a place to stay).  I was endlessly amused as he talked about the girl he'd hooked up with (who due to her religious values had at least managed to stay somewhat well-behaved), and his plans to potentially see her again.

At least this one has a personality, which is a funny new discovery he's been making lately, that girls need to have personalities for him to be attracted to them.  Which as he points out, is not entirely a good thing.  As he said, "It used to be that as long as a girl was fit, I was good to go.  But now that's not entirely it anymore.  For instance, I ran into another girl I'd hooked up with a bunch recently last night, and then realised...she's incredibly annoying!  No way I can stand her now!"  Ah, all part of growing up, I suppose.

I eventually had to beg off with him as I was running late to meet Sweetheart, which made him ask me what was going on between the two of us.  I told him honestly that there was nothing, that our relationship was incredibly platonic, almost to the point that it was slightly discouraging.  I mean, Sweetheart has slept with so many women that he's lost count, and yet he's always such a perfect gentleman with me.  And I know why, it would ruin our friendship if we hooked up, and yet still...  It shows you how much the Tall South African was curious however, as he never asks about my personal life.  Mostly because he's just too self-centred, but I'm not sure I want to encourage any further interest in knowing what's going on with me.

When I got to the bar where I was due to meet Sweetheart, I was surprised to find that it was closed up tight, as though it were completely out of business.  As I pulled out my phone to call him about this, I saw that I had a few texts from him about this.  I called him anyway, and he directed me to a second location, the W Hotel in Leicester Square, to their bar on the first floor.

I got there, spotted him as I walked down the hallway, and greeted him with a solid kiss on the lips as I said hello.  Yeah, we're platonic, but we've still got that at least.

The venue was kind of cool, although the drinks, at £12.80 a pop, did make my eyes water.  We were joined by a few other Americans who Sweetheart had apparently met the previous night at a University of California reunion drinks thing.  A few nice girls, and a good-looking black guy who I took notice of from across the table, but since he'd arrived with another girl I assumed they were a couple, and didn't think much more of it, even though I noticed him catch my eye as we sat across the table from each other.

I did have a neat experience when as we were all sitting having our drinks, across the bar I spotted a guy who looked kind of familiar.  He looked a lot like a guy I'd gone to college with, who I now know lives in California and works for Google.  I kept doing double-takes, trying to figure out if it was really him, until finally my curiosity overcame me and I went over to say hello.  It was him indeed!  We sat and chatted for a little while and it was great to catch up, and just cool the way that you can run into people you know all over the world like that...

Sweetheart then came and found me to say that we needed to settle our bill and get going to the show we were attending, a comedy performance by an American comedian about being an American living in London.  That had been the impetus behind this entire day actually, this idea that we would have an "America Day" to do all sorts of American things in London.  So we took our crowd of Americans and headed to the theatre for the show.

When we arrived, the girl who'd arrived with the black guy left, making me realise that they had just randomly arrived together, and didn't actually know each other at all.  I then would have liked to have sat with him to get to know him better, but in the end I just ended up sitting with Sweetheart, not a bad second choice.

The show started badly, with most of the laughs being the awkward laughs you give someone who is bombing spectacularly, but in the second half it improved somewhat.  The guy definitely needs to work on his act, however.  Not quite sure if it was £10 worth of entertainment, but overall it did give us a few laughs.

We then went out to the Sports Cafe for dinner and to watch the NCAA "March Madness" tournament.    I was starving at this point, and could hardly wait to eat.  I found myself sitting next to the attractive black guy, who turned out to be really interesting.  He grew up speaking Czech as his first language, he has 7 siblings (only one full brother, and then his parents divorced and re-married and had more kids each).  One side of the family now lives in Paris, and throughout his life he's lived in Paris, Hong Kong, and Africa.  Overall, it was a really enjoyable conversation and we exchanged numbers at the end of the evening, although that was mostly because everybody was at this point.  In truth, I got the sense that he was much more into the girl who he'd been sitting with at the comedy show, as he spent a lot more time making sure he got her number right.

In truth, I realised that although he was enjoyable company, I wasn't that into him, but I more wanted him to be into me just for the self-confidence boost, to prove that I could be attractive to men.  I really feel like I just haven't been getting any attention lately.  So he was 27 and had a kind of loud, funny laugh, and I probably wouldn't have been that interested in him long-term, but it was still a bit discouraging to be passed over.  The ego sometimes needs a boost, you know?

As the entire group was saying good-bye to each other outside, Sweetheart gave me a kiss on the lips to say good-bye, and the attractive black guy suddenly exclaimed aloud to the assembled masses, "Hey, you two just kissed each other on the lips as well!"  Which a comment from the other girl revealed that he had tried to kiss her on the lips to say good-bye, but she had ducked him and kissed him on the cheek.  And so now he was pointing out that other people do kiss each other on the lips to say good-bye.  Then again, we understand each other a lot better about this than other people who have just met.  Ah well, this is why it will always be Sweetheart at the end of the day...

An Evening with Italian Guy

On Wednesday, I got a lovely surprise when Italian Guy sent me a message out of the blue saying, "Hey there. I will be at the club on Friday, hope to see you there xx".  Apparently coming as the guest of the girl I'd met the last time we were out, who I'd really liked, and so he invited me to join them.  Although as much as anything, I think he just saw an excuse to see me and so wanted to take advantage of it.  

I got to the club right around 7, which turned out to be perfect timing, as they had also just arrived.  I got a drink and joined the group, and we all sat around chatting.  I spent quite a bit of time with the girls of the group, although thankfully due to people getting up and moving, I eventually found myself sitting and chatting with Italian Guy.  

It was interesting to talk to him, as I had never realised quite what a worker bee he is.  He apparently started working while he was still a teenager, and actually put off university for a year because he was earning so much money working.  But then at age 19 he decided he actually wanted a degree, and so while continuing to work full-time, he took classes at LSE from 6-9 PM each evening.  After graduating, he moved on to Goldman, got married at 25, had a kid at 27 and another at 29, and was divorced by the time he was 31.  And now that he's only two years older than I am, he's a managing director at GS while I'm still spinning my wheels in middle management.  On the one hand, he grew up early and worked his tail off, and look where it got him:  Divorced with two kids.  On the other hand, I'm in awe of his ability to work hard and get results.  One thing that cannot be denied is that I've been lazy...and I get to go out a lot more than he does.

We also had fun talking about the infamous GS Elevator Twitter Feed, which he said around the office they are desperate to find out who it is.  He thinks half of it is fake, but he says some of the quotes could definitely be real.  All I know is that it's some pretty hilarious stuff.  

We finished the evening with our heads huddled together, just talking and chatting and enjoying each other's company, as we always do.  He'd been going easy on the drinks all evening as he had to go see a specialist in the morning for something to do with his son, and so finally begged off to go home early.  

I stayed on a bit, where the group was unfortunately joined by some deathly dull older men, who didn't quite seem to realise how much they had gate-crashed our group, nor how boring they were being.  And of course, all of the polite Brits in the group couldn't quite seem to figure out how to tell them to get lost.  In the end, we talked about grabbing some food at Automat, but basically just ran away in the end.  As it was, I caught one of the last Tube trains home, making it back around 12:30 AM and calling my brother to chat for an hour.  At least one advantage to coming home late!

And then in the morning, I woke up to a sweet little message from Italian Guy.  "Hey thank you for your lovely company as usual last night. See you soon xx"

My Scottish Lawyer friend had asked me at one point when I was up at the bar what was going on between the two of us.  I explained with a sigh that we are just good friends, and that's it.  But of course, the truth is that we both want to on some level.  It's just that he's divorced with two kids, AND he smokes.  No way do I want to get involved in that mess.

Yet, I really do enjoy his company.  Very glad to see he feels the same.  At least let's see if we can manage to spend some more time together, as it's always such a pleasure...

St. Paddy's Run

Late in my work day, I was surprised when a familiar name popped up on chat, asking me if I was going to be at the run that evening.  It was DM!  I hadn't heard from him in ages!

I assured him that I would indeed be there, and then at the end of the work day, got changed for the run.  Since it was a St. Patrick's Day run, we were all to be wearing green.  I had a bright green shirt from a hash run ages ago, although they'd messed up the order and given me a men's shirt, which hung really shapelessly on my body, I hate how it looks.  Ill-fitting, I usually only have it for the Young Dutchman to sleep in when he stays over.  Yet, I couldn't deny that it was the perfect colour for the run, so along with a green ribbon in my hair, I wore it, figuring I'd have to deal with shapeless, ill-fitting running kit for one night.

When I got to the run, Matt was there, which was a great surprise.  I always love seeing Matt.  It was funny too when he asked if he could borrow a pair of gloves, after I'd already loaned him a pair of gloves two weeks ago.  He thought he'd left them at home, but a last-minute check of his bag revealled that he still had them!  Made me laugh, that Matt got to borrow my gloves from himself...

Roofie's Brother also showed up too, which was a great surprise.  When greeting me hello, he went for a kiss on my lips, I thought we were still doing cheek, so it got messed up slightly.  No worries, I figure we'd sort it out when we said good-bye..  I talked to him a bit about the move, although he didn't have too much to say about it, other than that he didn't have many things so it had all gone rather quickly.

We ran into each other a few more times throughout the run at various stopping points, where he moaned that he'd under-dressed for the weather, as it was colder out than anybody expected that evening!

We finally made it to a drinks stop near the end of the run, but I didn't see Roofie's Brother at all.  I'd been running with Matt when we got to the drinks stop in the park, so we stayed and chatted for a bit, and then finally I walked back to the pub with Matt and Lex, despite never having seen Roofie's Brother at the drinks stop.  When I got back to the pub I realised why, as he was already back there.

He was already chatting with The Blonde and a few people, and then I found myself stuck at the bar getting pints for myself and Matt (with the world's slowest bar service).  Then a few more people came up to me to chat, and Sister Fister arrived from who knows where...

Once I saw Sister Fister arrived, I figured that my opportunities to talk to Roofie's Brother would be limited, so I texted DM to say, "We're back!  Come play with me!!"  Indeed, he arrived shortly after in response to my text, and teased me about not texting him earlier to join everyone at a drinks stop near the end of the run.  I pointed out that he would have looked quite out of place wearing a suit in the middle of a park with a bunch of runners, and anyway, those drinks had been disgusting, tasting mostly like mint mouthwash.

I spent quite a while talking to DM about citizenship (hard to believe we both arrived in the UK at the same time six years ago), his travels in Brazil, and mutual friends in common.  He asked if I'd heard from an old flatmate of mine, the person who actually introduced us (as he was friends with her ex-boyfriend).  I confessed I hadn't spoken to her in a while, to which DM gave me the surprising news that he'd heard from her ex-boyfriend that she was six months pregnant!  Goodness, I need to be better at keeping in touch with people...

As I was talking to DM, Roofie's Brother came over and stood next to me, and it was weird because we kept bumping into each other and touching each other, standing in close contact like we always do, yet while he kept up a conversation with the guy he was talking to, and I of course felt like I couldn't not talk to DM...

We moved downstairs for the circle and I continued to chat with DM, kind of amazed as usual that I think I'm one of his closest friends, despite how rarely we keep in touch.  It's strange, but I get the sense I'm one of the people he's known the longest, and one of the few who always responds to him.  He's actually weirdly shy in that he takes small slights way too personally, so it takes someone exceptionally outgoing to constantly reassure him.

Wearing green in the circle post-run

We did have an interesting conversation about how he'd seen his father recently, and his father kept talking about when he was coming back to Australia, except that DM was unsure that he could ever really ever live in Australia again, as much as he missed the sunshine.  He was also quitting his job again (how many jobs has that boy had in the time I've known him?) to go travelling, again, this time to Costa Rica.  Except of course his work wanted him to stay on, and sort of not acknowledging that he'd turned in his notice, putting him on long-term plans past his contract end date.  As per usual, the guy really has no idea what he's doing...

Despite his obvious enthusiasm for seeing me, about midway through the circle he told me that he was leaving to go out with some random guy in Soho for the evening (hence the suit).  I was kind of surprised that after making such a point of seeing me, he was leaving, but then again, I've never really understood DM's fondness for me in the first place.  Kind of hilarious when I think back to that first night in a bar six years ago, the mutual friend who introduced us had suggested we date.  I wonder if we'd still be circling around each other so much if we'd taken up her suggestion six years ago...

With DM now gone, I figured that this might be my chance to talk to Roofie's Brother, except Matt was there and obviously keen to talk.  We actually had quite an in-depth conversation about uncertainty at his job and worries about his career, and he told me what a relief it was to talk to someone about it, as apparently I'm the only person he's told.  Not even his live-in girlfriend knows.

Which made me think of something Sweetheart had been telling me when we were out on Friday, that he didn't think Matt and his girlfriend were going to last long-term.  Which surprised me, because they are both such lovely people.  And for cripes sake, they've been together for years and have even bought a house together!  Except they still haven't gotten married, and this isn't the first time that Matt has felt more comfortable talking to me about something than he has to her.  It's all a bit of a puzzle...

Then, after the circle ended, Matt wanted to dash off home, at which point I figured I might finally get to talk to Roofie's Brother.  Except no, now The Blonde wanted to talk to me!  Argh!!

Still, I know she'd wanted to talk about the latest guy she was seeing, who in the usual pattern of The Blonde, she's managed to find fault with.  A brilliant guy, who by her own admission she really enjoys spending time with, except she thinks he's got a not-very-posh accent, isn't quite career-driven enough for her (in that he has no concerns about money, or where his might be coming from), and has the irritating habit of getting into bed entirely naked, without even something to undress once they get there.  As she said, "We've only been dating a few weeks, and yes we're sleeping together, but it's a bit presumptuous, don't you think?"

To add a spanner into the works, she met up with an ex-boyfriend last Sunday, and apparently suddenly remembered why she'd found him so attractive in the first place.  The chemistry, the attraction, the je ne sais quois...it was all still there.  And so the ex had kissed her and wanted to get back together, so now she's sort of dating both at the same time while she figures out which one she prefers.  At least she said to me, "I'm only going to sleep with one at a time though, as I figure overlapping on that isn't a good idea."  At which point I had to shake my head and think (to myself), "At least you have SOME standards, my dear..."  Goodness, that girl really has slept with too many people.

Anyway, all of this drama was interesting enough, but all I could think about was that across the room, Roofie's Brother was surprisingly not being monopolized by Sister Fister for once, and I'd love to get a chance to talk to him before the evening was over.  I mean, I was already a bit surprised that he hadn't come over to talk to me, but perhaps he didn't want to interrupt a girly chat.

Yet The Blonde wasn't letting me escape, constantly holding me in conversation, leaving me to think, "You're the one person who actually knows about this and who knows I might want to talk to him!  Why on earth are you trapping me here like this, every time I try to get away you keep pulling me back in!"

And then to my distress I saw that Roofie's Brother was leaving.  Well, at least he'd come over and say good-bye, right?  Our good-bye kisses are what I have always enjoyed...

Nope, he just dashed right out without even pausing, much to my surprise.  I wrote him a cute (I thought) message about it before I went home, which he didn't respond to until midway through the following day, even though I knew he'd seen it sooner.  To which I got the most lame response about how he needed to run home, an excuse that he couldn't do drinks until after Easter, and then the kicker sign-off, "Have a good day."  Who on earth says "Have a good day" to a crush?  Hmmm...maybe he doesn't like me as much as I thought.  I was so annoyed, that I just never replied.

Boys...when they're not confusing me, they're just being lame!

Grand Slam Rugby Loss

I'd insisted that I needed to go out to the gym today, but as I didn't get there until much later than I should have, I was late getting back, and hence was running about 10 minutes late to the rugby.

I wasn't the only one however, as I ran into Sweetheart as I stepped off the train at the final station, making us both laugh as we realised we'd been on the same train for the entire journey.  He wrapped an arm around me and held onto me the entire time as we walked through the station, which after last night was rather sweet.

We arrived at the pub, and one of the first people I saw was Matt, so I went and gave him a hug, and just ended up standing with him for nearly the entire game, trading off buying pints, as we always do.  Not much time to talk and catch up though, as we spent much of our time yelling at the screen and at the game.  Going into this game, the thought had been that if England were to win it, we would have won every game of the tournament, completing a "Grand Slam".  Within minutes however, it was apparent that the ref was incredibly biased, constantly calling penalty after penalty on England, even when I could have staked my life on the fact that Wales was at fault.  In the end, it was a tragic result, with England losing to Wales, 30-3.

At least we had cheap pints to console ourselves with, as two of the guys had purchased discount cards that we all collectively used throughout the afternoon.  And plus, it was just good to see everyone and catch up with them.

I spent some time chatting with The Blonde, who ran into the brother of a guy she once lived with in the pub, but it took her ages to remember his name.  At one point she found herself standing with me and a guy we all call "Angel", an absolute giant of a man, and talking about the guy she'd one lived with, saying, "The thing is, I can't remember if I ever actually slept with him.  I mean, we definitely made out and things, but I can't quite remember if we ever actually had sex or not."  She seemed quite genuine in her puzzlement, which then led Angel to simply say, "If you really can't remember, that means you have slept with too many people."  I was glad he was the one to actually say it, but goodness knows I was thinking it...  I'm always a bit alarmed by people who claim to have no idea how many people they've actually had sex with.  Because at the end of the day, what does it really mean if you can't even remember?

I'd said to a friend of mine from Oxford who I'd been trying to catch up with for ages that she should meet me after the game at this pub, and I was thrilled when almost exactly at the time she said she would arrive, I spotted her from across the pub. I hadn't seen her in at least a year, so it was a real thrill to finally get to catch up with her again.

She got us some more cheap beers, and we stood around, chatting and catching up for a bit.  Turns out that she'd been dating a Kiwi guy for the past three years, and they'd been living together and talking about having kids and everything, when two months ago he suddenly announced to her as she was making dinner that he was leaving her, that he had all of his bags packed and a cab was waiting for him outside.

You occasionally hear about these things happening, but you can't quite fathom what it must be like to be the person in that situation.  My German Oxford friend said that she'd had absolutely no inkling that anything was amiss, that after three years she thought they had a really honest, open and communicative relationship.  In fact, she said her only clue was that in retrospect, he'd really been tidying up for the month previously, as he cleared through and packed up all of his things in preparation for his big good-bye.  And she said, "Here I thought he was being so nice and finally cleaning up for once, but in reality it was because he was starting to move out when I didn't even notice."

The strange thing is, that's now the third friend I know personally that's happened to, and so many more I've heard about through others.  I wonder when I helped Joel move out, was this what it seemed like to his live-in girlfriend at the time?  Did she have no idea that there was trouble, until the day she came home to find him with bags packed, ready to walk?  Do these men have no concept of what it does to the women they leave behind?

In this case, he apparently flew back to New Zealand, and she hasn't heard from him or spoken to him since.  She doesn't even really know if he's still alive, or how she could even get word to him if she needed to.  Wow.  It almost makes me glad that I haven't spent the past three years dating a guy like that, as although I do miss not having a regular boyfriend, at least I haven't been left going through a trauma like that.

At this point, I got a pleasant surprise when I spotted a very late arrival, Roofie's Brother!  A little bit tipsy and happy on beer, I went up and gave him a kiss hello, and was pleasantly surprised when he hugged me and then kept an arm wrapped tightly around me to talk to me for a while, holding me in close to him.  It almost made me want to ask, "Oh, so this is still on?"

Alas, I didn't get to talk to him for as long as I would like, as he was dragged away as usual by Sister Fister. It's strange, because I'm not sure if she means to be such a wrench in the works, but I've noticed that she's very possessive of "her boys", Roofie, his brother, and Angel.  Although she has no romantic designs on them herself, she's one of those girls who is never really comfortable with her male friends talking to other girls.  I guess if it's one of your only sources of male attention, you hate to give that up, but it's really not being much of a good friend, really.  Goodness knows I get irritated when the Tall South African hangs around me too much when I'm trying to talk to guys, I think it's sort of your obligation to give your friends freedom to flirt with the opposite sex.  At least when I'm out with Joel or with the Young Dutchman, I actually think I'm quite a good wing-woman, and give them space to chat up girls when they need it.  As I do my female friends when they've met a cute guy.  Really, it just seems to be poor form to monopolize people's attention so much.  Particularly after Sweetheart told me how little patience he has for her any more and how much he actively dislikes her, I find that my excuse was, "I should be patient with her because everybody else is", but if they aren't really, why should I be either?"

So it was a pity when far too soon, Roofie's Brother was dragged off somewhere else, but at least he gave me one last usual, lovely, solid kiss on the lips good-bye.  And it made me smile because it's not even like my little pecks with Sweetheart, but a real kiss that makes me tingle, every time.  Ah, but how every time I just find myself wishing for more..

Finally at around 10:30, the crowds seemed to be moving on, and I saw an opportunity to get home at a reasonable hour, so I left with Matt and Cookie.  (They apparently had one drink more when they got home to Clapham, which Matt told me later really put them over the edge, but I was wise and cut off all my drinking at that point).  A good day out with great friends, even if England did lose the day.  Ah, until next time...

Movie Night with Sweetheart

After last night's late night, my cold was still knocking me sideways, and I wasn't sure how I was going to make it to the rugby that afternoon.  I managed to drag myself up to the gym, but was quite relieved as I came home to discover texts from both Lex and Matt saying they weren't going to rugby.  By the time I texted Sweetheart to say I wasn't going either, he texted back, "Already ahead of you..."

But later in the evening he called to ask, "Did I want to come over and watch a movie?"

Although I was tempted to stay in to try to rest up and recover, a part of me was also suffering from a bit of cabin fever, and I just wanted to get out of my flat for a bit.  So I said sure, through on jeans and a sweatshirt, and hopped on a bus over to his.  Quick journey, I was there in 15 minutes flat, and got to see his new place.

A charming little one-bedroom flat, perhaps not quite as nice as his old place, but with a back garden that I'm sure will be nice in the summer.  He gave me a quick tour, and then microwaved some dinner for us as I settled down on the couch while we picked a film.

Through his amazing streaming set-up, we were able to rent a film on-demand, and picked a weird French film called "Rust and Bone".  Kind of strange plot, where this guy who is a single father travels to his sister's house in a town near the shore (why he was moving or where the kid's mother was is unclear), and gets a job as a nightclub bouncer.  One night he meets a woman who is a trainer of killer whales at a Sea World-like show when she gets into a fight at the club.  We then follow her the next day where she is involved in an accident during the show, and loses both of her legs at the knee.

After she gets out of the hospital, she calls the nightclub bouncer (because if I'd ever been through a traumatic accident, the first person I would call would be some guy I'd met only once a few months previously), and even weirder, he shows up to go out on sort of a "date" with her where they go swimming in the ocean.

They strike up this sort of friendship, she the girl with no legs and he the single dad (who is doing kind of a rubbish job at that, as he forgets to pick up his son at school because he's having sex with a random girl he met at the gym).  The leaps in the storyline were getting kind of hard to follow, to be honest...

Then the legless girl and this guy start sleeping together, which then meant I found myself watching these incredibly awkward scenes with lots of naked people with Sweetheart sitting right next to me.  Not cuddled up on the couch right next to me, thank goodness, but still weird.

In the end, this guy takes up professional fighting, runs off abandoning the legless girl and his kid for a while, but eventually after an accident with his kid, he comes back to the legless girl and the new family lives happily ever after.  I really don't understand foreign films sometimes.

After the movie, we sat around talking for a while about all sorts of random things, like his ex-girlfriends and what they did to become exes, before I finally realised it was late and I was tired, and also that I was sick and needed to go home.  Sweetheart still gave me a kiss on the lips to say good-bye (dangerous way to pick up my cold), and I made it home in the freezing and bitter cold.  Good to get out of the flat though, and fun to spend a night at Sweetheart's...

Scouse Wedding

On the steps of St. Paul's Cathedral

After last night's late night out, I was absolutely dragging to try to make it to a wedding at St. Paul's Cathedral by 2 PM.  Which you wouldn't think would be that hard, but I was exhausted...

I got held up as well by Joel calling me, unfortunately in a mood to chat, as he himself was on his way to his own sister's wedding.  Lots going on there, but I was almost relieved when he got cut off by the train (he was on the Underground to Earl's Court), so I had to cut our conversation short when he got cut off.  When he texted to say he would call back shortly, I replied that I was on my way to a wedding myself.  Which got me the reply, "Surely time for ours soon? X ;-)"

Such comments secretly drive me nuts, because my Joel's own admission, there is nobody who understands him better, nobody who is wiser to him or more perfectly suited for him, than me.  But of course, Joel has no attraction for me as a woman, I'm just the eternal friend.  So it kind of bugs me in a way, when he makes jokes like that about what a perfect match we are, even when we both know he'll never act on it.  As Joel himself has often said to me, "I have too many male friends."

My little tête-a-tête with Joel had me running so late that when I arrived at St. Paul's, it was mere minutes before 2 PM, and I found myself making a frantic dash through the cathedral looking for the chapel where the wedding was due to be held.  Luckily, with the invitation in my hand, the church wardens, who normally have the job of keeping people out of restricted areas of the chapel, saw me racing and coming and helpfully kept pulling back velvet ropes and pointing, saying, "The wedding?  That way!"

At last I skidded up the aisle and plopped myself into an empty seat right next to Lex in the midst of a group of everyone from our running club.  I was pleased to discover as well that I wasn't even the last person to arrive, when Sweetheart walked in a few minutes after I did, and took the empty seat on the aisle next to me.

The wedding was lovely, a classic Church of England service, which meant that everyone was talking way too much during the signing of the registry (something never done as part of American church services), but overall some lovely hymns and singing.  I always enjoy when the congregation gets to sing at the wedding.

The bride and groom coming down the aisle at the end

After the service was over, we took a few photos out in front of the church, and then everyone made their way down to the river front, where we found ourselves on a boat for a short river cruise and speeches.  Despite not having had a hangover when I woke up in the morning, the constant motion of the boat made me feel slightly ill, so I didn't drink anything the entire time, but just tried to avoid my stuffed ears, cough and cold.  I found myself talking to girls who have slightly shrill, high-pitched voices at the best of times, but now they were truly unbearable with me sensitive, stuffed ears.

I also found a funny effect when the groom came near, as I've always thought he had an "off" smell, like he didn't launder his clothes enough, but since I usually see him at our running club, I just assumed he was one of these guys who didn't wash his running kit as frequently as he should.  (A common offence among men).  To my surprise, even in his wedding finery, I was assaulted by the same smell, making me realise it must just be a general odour about him.  And with his bride cuddling up to him and everyone else not seeming to mind in the least, it suddenly occurred to me:  Was I the only one who smelled that?  It's always been so powerful, as nice a chap as the groom is, I've never been able to spend very long talking to him.

Which makes me wonder, "Is there an odour about me that everybody else can smell?  Or that only certain people can smell?"  It was really all kind of a strange and perplexing discovery, to realise that your sense of smell is so far off from everyone else's.

At last I managed to escape over to where Kitty, her boyfriend, and the Ginger Lawyer Guy were, and I had a fun time talking to the Ginger Lawyer Guy for a while about his dates.  He goes on quite a few, apparently, and it was kind of a relief to discover that a nice chap who everybody likes seems to have equally as bad luck on dates as I often do.

At the reception venue

Then it was time for the speeches, which were a great surprise, as normally these things are to be tolerated, but to a person they all had us laughing our heads off.  The father of the bride started, and his wasn't bad.  Followed by the Maid of Honour, who did quite a good job, then the groom who got a few zingers in there, to finally the Best Man's speech, which had us absolutely doubled over in laughter.  Admittedly, at quite a few points as the Best Man told some truly embarrassing stories, we thought, "Thank goodness it's not our grandparents listening to this!" (the stories involved picking up transvestites in bars), but I will remember that speech for some time for being one of the funniest Best Man speeches I've ever heard.  And what made me laugh is that I'd never heard anyone with such a funny accent like the groom, until the Best Man started speaking and he sounded exactly the same.  So there's the Scouse accent for you!

At last the boat docked again, and it was with quite a bit of relief that I found my feet on solid ground once again.  I'd truly been feeling ill on the boat, so I was relieved to be able to get out and walk around a bit as we went in search of a pub for some dinner.

Because in a tradition that seems exclusive to English weddings, there had been an "A List" and a "B List" at the wedding, and so only some of us were invited to the actual wedding reception and dinner, whereas the rest of us were fine to come to the wedding and to a drinks reception later after dinner, but we were left on our own for food in the afternoon.  Everything I've ever read about etiquette has stated that this is the height of rudeness, but the English seem to accept it as some sort of allowable custom, so I guess there was nothing to do but go along with it.

We walked around for ages trying to find an open pub, before settling on one that was actually a ship docked on the water.  We got some terrible food and a few drinks, and then sat around talking about marriage, whether we wanted to get married, and taking bets on whether people we knew would get married.  I also had quite a long chat with Ginger Lawyer Guy about his job, which was really interesting.  A really good chat to get to know him a bit better, really.

Dancing at the reception

Finally after dinner, we returned back to the reception venue to join everyone for drinks.  At this point I was tired and thinking I would stay for only one more drink, particularly after I realised that it was a cash bar.  Well no wonder the bride and groom hadn't worried about inviting all of these extra people to the evening drinks reception, if they wouldn't even have to pay for it.  Again, the customs of the English baffle me at times.

Somehow however, I found myself having drinks with Cookie and then being pulled onto the dance floor until the last dance at midnight, at which I insisted that I was going to go home and catch the last Tube.  Except somehow I then got dragged with the crowds to the hotel bar where all of the out-of-town guests were staying, and had even more drinks.  I asked for a beer at that point in the hopes of having something more watery, particularly after the tequila shots came around.  So much for a quiet early night after last night!

At last, I saw Sweetheart signal me from across the room that he wanted to call a cab, which I nodded in agreement to gratefully.  It was past 2 AM by this point, and I was nearly tripping over myself with drunkenness and exhaustion.  So once I'd said my good-byes to the bride and groom, I went over to Sweetheart and just snuggled up in his arms while we waited.  It's funny, because I often try to avoid being too inappropriately close to Sweetheart at times (I'm never quite clear on the boundaries of our relationship), but tonight I was just too tired, and unlike so many, he just smelled so nice and manly and his arms were so comforting and strong.  And the lovely man that he is, he just held me until our cab arrived, at which point I just snuggled up to him for the journey home, until I was safely back at my flat.  So exhausted, such a fun day, but what a long night!

1920's Ball at the RAC

I suppose in the end it was a good thing that Roofie's Brother couldn't make it to the ball with me.  As I still haven't managed to shake this cold, and after a hectic day at work, I found myself running an hour late to the ball.

I missed the pre-dinner drinks entirely (after a cab ride that I eventually calculated took just as long as hopping on the Tube would have), and arrived just as everyone was sitting down to dinner.  Although at least I arrived on time for dinner, which is more than I can say for my dinner companion...  After Roofie's Brother had to cancel on me, the Young Dutchman begged that I should take a guy from his work, who we'll call "Google Guy".  Perhaps not my first choice, but I needed to bring somebody, so why not?

This guy however, did not show up until two-and-half hours after the event was due to begin, arriving halfway through the main course.  I was absolutely mortified.  The staff kept coming over to ask if he was coming, everyone else at the table was constantly asking where my guest was, and it really was looking like I'd totally been stood up.  At the start of dinner, when I spotted the Young Dutchman and Kellogg Boy arrive at their table, I went over to ask where on earth their friend was.  "Coming soon, in 20 minutes or so..."  Jeepers, why can't this guy manage to show up on time if they can?

With the Young Dutchman and Kellogg Boy

Finally however, the guy did arrive, although I positively fuming at this point, and didn't speak to him at all until the dessert course.  Because just as long as we're being critical, this guy, instead of being in white-tie as promised, showed up in a black suit with a pre-tied black bow-tie.  I later learned from Kellogg Boy that Google Guy had told him at lunchtime today that he was going out to buy "white-tie", which he thought was quite simply "a white tie".  Not even a bow-tie!  And so they had to explain to the guy that this wasn't going to work, that he needed to wear a dinner jacket and black-tie at least...

I'll make allowances for the fact that not everybody lives in this weird, rarefied world that I do, and would instantly know what white-tie is, but this is a guy who is supposed to be smart and cultured.  Except he can't be bothered to show up on time or dress appropriately.  I was so embarrassed ..  Last time I ever let the Young Dutchman convince me to take one of his friends anywhere!

Finally over dessert, we broke the tense silence of our stand-off, because we sort of had to talk, right?  At which point it suddenly became obvious to me why the Young Dutchman is friends with this guy, as in the course of conversation it became apparent that his family is as rich as Croesus.  Originally from Honduras (I think?), he lived on the Kings Road in Chelsea and his family had a house in Italy too.  I don't know why the Young Dutchman does this, where he gets drawn to wealthy people, regardless of whether they are the types one would truly want to be friends with.  Kellogg Boy and I often love to joke about this, how the Young Dutchman will make "connections" as much as he will make friends.  They don't last for long, but it's really a characteristic that should have alerted me by now to the fact that if the Young Dutchman vouches for someone, it doesn't really mean anything at all.

The trick is, of course, figuring out how much you have to bother getting to know these people, given that they will usually be gone in short order.  If it's a girl, that's easy, as they rarely last more than 2-3 weeks.  With guys, it's tougher, as some of them have continued to stick around much longer than I would have anticipated (like Painfully Shy Guy).  Normally I would totally disregard this guy, except that he seemed to be friends with Kellogg Boy, which gives him somewhat more "sticking" power.  So I figured I had to be at least friendly, even if I didn't truly need to go out of my way for this guy after his disastrous first impression.

We did at least have a somewhat interesting conversation about US Basketball, and we switched the conversation into Spanish for a while, which I was relatively comfortable with, although I switched it back into English before we could talk about topics too far outside of my vocabulary comfort zone.  Still, he praised my speaking ability, and I had to admit that I found him very easy to understand.  So apparently my Spanish isn't that bad...

After dinner, the dancing started, although I mostly spent time standing around talking to people (as let's face it, I know everyone).  I got quite the pleasant surprise when the Wild Welshman came over to say hello, as I can't remember the last time I saw him in a social context.  He told me that I was looking lovely, in such a genuine way, that I was truly flattered.  Kind of as though upon seeing me, he had been reminded of how beautiful I can be.  Very sweet.

Kellogg Boy then came over to find me, saying that I needed to stop drinking water and drink a "man's drink", and so we were going downstairs to the Cocktail Bar to find such things.  We were joined by Google Guy (the Young Dutchman was of course off somewhere, likely pursuing something blonde), and as we walked out of the ballroom, Google Guy comments that he's found it surprising that when he mentions the Young Dutchman or Kellogg Boy to people, nobody has any idea who they are.  Well duh, of course not, as the two of them are stuck at work all of the time!

So I made a joke that he was asking about the wrong person, that of course nobody knows the Young Dutchman or Kellogg Boy, but rather they all know me.  And just as I said that, at the top of the stairs appeared Italian Guy!  And as soon as he saw me, he flung his arms wide and said, "My lovely, I've been looking for you!"  I raced into his arms with a wiggle and a yelp, I was so happy to see him.

Turns out that he and a bunch of the boys from the Carlton had been out at dinner this evening, and they'd retired to the RAC for drinks, because Italian Guy had promised me that he would come find me.  So I took his arm, and we went downstairs to join the rest of the crowds.

Once in the cocktail bar, I lost Kellogg Boy and Google Guy, as I was grabbed by many people who wanted to say hello, including Carlton Rapper Guy and the American, among others.  Although the best part was how Italian Guy kept holding on to me, and declaring to the crowds at large, "This is my absolute favourite bird in the whole wide world."  When somebody told him that it was inappropriate to call me a "bird", I just laughed and told him, "Well then I guess I'm your best girl then."  To which he looked me deep in the eyes, and with a smile only the two of us really understand, grinned and said, "That you are..."

Someone even put a glass of champagne in my hand, and I talked to other people for a bit, but that drink paled in comparison to the moment when a hand appeared from over my shoulder and wafted a drink right under my nose.  I could smell it before I could see it, and my face lit up with delight.  "Old Fashioneds!"

Kellogg Boy laughed at my thrilled reaction, and as bad as it sounds, the smell of the whiskey was heavenly.  And then he explained to Google Guy that I have a family reason for drinking Old Fashioneds, and that I was one of the coolest people he knew.

We went back upstairs for a little bit, I found myself sharing a dance with a random guy, and then when they shut down the dance floor, I walked out with the Wild Welshman and his girlfriend.  She was obviously drunk and behaving a bit strangely, although he seemed to be tolerating it as well as he could.  It's funny how some people go for types I wouldn't have originally predicted, but as long as they seem to work out...

We then retired down to the Long Bar and I got pulled into conversation with tons of random people, all of the way until it was suddenly 3 AM.  Where on earth did the time go?  At least my original goal for the evening, of avoiding going to Annabell's with Italian Guy and the others, turned out to have been a success.  The Blonde had been wanting to go, but I really just had no interest.

I then called for a cab, although my normally reliable cab company took ages to show up, so much so that although I called them at 3 AM, I didn't get into the cab until after 4 AM!  And then was not home of course, until 4:30 AM.  Lesson learned, just get a more expensive cab in the future and get home quicker!

At least once I was home safely, I messaged Italian Guy to let him know I was home safe and how much I had loved seeing him.  To which he replied, "Hey lovely, I made sure I came and found you. A's was great fun but I was in real trouble at the end."  Definitely glad I didn't go then!  

St. David's Day Ball

St. David's Day costumes

I need to learn to start defending my precious nights in.  I don't know if it's the lack of Diet Coke for Lent of what, but I'm really tired these days, and I need more nights off.  Just time to go to bed early and get some more sleep.

After last night's late night return from Cambridge, I slept in for a good portion of the day, and then spent much of the day on the phone with people.  First to call was the Young Dutchman, doing our usual weekend check-in call a day early, and just chatting with me for quite a while about work (his only real topic of conversation these days), although interspersed with stories of Dublin and plans to go to Las Vegas in April (for work, of course).

Everyone at the ball

He also told me a bit about the guy that I'm now taking to the RAC Ball next week.  Much as I had started to fear would happen (since he hadn't mentioned his enthusiasm for the upcoming event), I had finally pushed Roofie's Brother for an answer to whether he could make it or not.  I'd really been hoping that the event would be a chance for the two of us to spend some alone time together, to have a chance to talk and figure out what was going on with us without the audience of a million people we know.

Yet, it was not to be, as he wrote to me with an excuse of how his sister was insisting that his nephew's first birthday party had to be the actual birth DAY, which meant he was going to have to go down to Bornemouth on Friday to work from there, to be there for the birthday party.  Reasonable enough excuse (and he had warned me that he had a family thing he would need to get out of), but still disappointing.

Everyone in costumes

The Young Dutchman sorted that one out however as soon as I mentioned it to him, saying within moments that I was now going with an awesome guy he knew from his work, who even owned white-tie.  I'm rather curious about who this paragon will be, as sometimes in the past, the Young Dutchman's take on who is "awesome" has been a bit different from mine.  Plus, the Young Dutchman so rarely thinks of me as a single girl, he's never alert enough to set me up with single, attractive men.  So I'm going into this expecting a short, sweet-but-already has a long-term girlfriend guy as my date.  The Young Dutchman is just rather clueless like that, but you never know, he might surprise me...

In costume with The Blonde

After I had enjoyed our lengthy chat, I called my sister-in-law to talk for a while while she packed for a weekend trip to Maine, and my niece insisted on getting on the phone with me for a while.  It was super-cute, as while I had expected to just hear a lot of heavy breathing on the other end of the phone (toddlers don't always seem to understand that you can't hear them), I instead got a charming listing of all the toys she was taking on the trip with her.

Right as I was hanging up with my sister-in-law, I got another pleasant surprise when Joel called, to actually talk for a decent length of time.  Had a good time talking to him about his latest relationship (I can't believe it, he wasn't even single a week!) and Joel giving me a talking to about my own choices in men.  I think he had an astute observation when he noted that they're all like puppy dogs, who follow me around eagerly, but after getting the affection and attention they need, bound off without actually committing anything to me.  As much as I hate it, I think Joel might be right, that I need to force the issue a bit more.  As Joel said, "When you walk into a room, everybody loves you.  There is nobody that you're avoiding, who you don't want to see again.  Which actually is part of the problem.  If you've taken risks and pushed guys to step up their game, you've risked rejection and there are people you won't want to see again.  The fact that you're happy to see everyone at every party you go to is part of the issue.  They get all the joy of seeing you without ever having to commit to you."  Sounds kind of weird, but I think he has a point.

With The Blonde's date

Finally after I hung up with Joel, I talked to my parents for a while, and then dashed off to go to the gym for a bit, before I needed to come back and change to go to this St. David's Day Ball that The Blonde wanted me to come to.  I quickly threw together an outfit that could perhaps be considered a costume, and made my way to the venue.

The Blonde and the new guy, in costumes

The champagne was liberally poured, which was helpful as I was talking to all of the random people who were there.  A few faces I recognised, many more that I didn't.  We had champagne for nearly two hours, before we went upstairs for some more food and drink.

There were some funny activities, like leek fencing (rather ridiculous but hysterically funny), and a St. David's Day cake.  I spent most of my time talking to The Blonde and her new guy, who it was hard to believe she had only known for a week, as they were so acting like a long-term couple already.

St. David's Day cake

He seemed nice, not personally my type (too much of an army bloke, not the intellectuals I prefer) but I could see him being a good match for The Blonde.  It was actually rather cute, how much he doted on her, and what a good sport he was.  After all, what man would agree to get dressed up in a pink Georgian costume for a girl he'd known less than a week?

Plus, as I was being frequently stuck in the "third wheel" position, he was really game about talking to me for quite a bit.  I did find myself in conversation with an American guy later who was clearly a bit taken with me, but he was just too rude to the serving staff (making some snarky comments about the girl pouring champagne) to really be tolerated.  I never understand why people don't realise that being mean to the help doesn't make you look posh or sophisticated, it just makes you look like an arse.  (The Blonde's new man, to his credit, was absolutely lovely and gracious to the help, making jokes with the girl pouring his champagne every time she came around.  Good mark in a man).

Random guy who changed into a banana costume before leaving to go to another party

Finally at 11:30 pm, The Blonde was clearly game to continue the evening's party, but I'd really just had it, and so slipped away.  Time to go home while I still had the chance, as I needed some sleep!

Trip to Cambridge

Twice a year, at the Club we make a trip up to Cambridge and to Oxford, as a bit of a recruiting trip and to promote the club.  Today was the day of the Cambridge trip, so although I hadn't checked it with my boss, I slipped out of work a bit early and caught the train up to Cambridge, trying my best to work on my iPhone for the entire trip.

When I got to Cambridge, I ran into a chap I recognised from the committee, and we were able to share a cab up to Senate House, which was quite convenient.

Once there, the cocktail party started soon after, and I did my usual rounds, chatting to groups of students and talking up the club.  Working the room, the way I always do.

One of the staff came and found me for my speech at around the midpoint of the evening, and so I gave a short-but-sweet talk, hitting on all of the main points about the club, and hopefully it was well received by the crowd of 300.  I don't know, I think I'm pretty good at public speaking in that I don't get nervous (why everyone loves to make me give speeches), although I still could learn a few lessons from politicians who are so adept at "winning over a room".  Still, everyone in the crowd praised me later on a good speech, so hopefully I did an okay job.

After the event ended, we all went to a local restaurant for dinner, where we had to race through our meal to make the last trains back from Cambridge to London.

Still, we had some lovely champagne before dinner, scallops to start, then nice big juicy steaks for a main, and then after the first crowd left for the 10:30 train, we had some plum and pear crumble, with muscat wine for dessert.  (I had been starving, so I was quite delighted to stuff my face).

Then, just in time to catch the train, the Assistant Secretary, one of the younger guys at the club and I all went to catch the train.  The young guy almost immediately fell asleep on the train, which since we were catching the last, slow train of the night, was kind of annoying.  However the Assistant Secretary and I kept up a good patter of conversation, and as he mentioned something about taking "a person" out on a date the next night, it suddenly clicked with me:  The Assistant Secretary was gay!  I can't believe I'd missed it previously, but suddenly everything in his manner became hugely obvious to me.  No wonder I've never seen him out with a cute girl on his arm...

While I was sitting there regretting not having taken the earlier and faster train, the young guy woke up from his sleep long enough to suddenly vomit all over himself.  Oh my God, that was mortifying.  Because here this kid had vomited in front of a member of staff, and also since he was with us, it's not like we could just discretely move away from him, we had to sit there with him and try to clean him up.    Ewwwwww....gross!

Once we got back to London, the Assistant Secretary parted ways with us, I think relieved to escape the stinking vomit of the young guy, who I was now still stuck with.  I managed to get us both onto a night bus, and then actually got involved in a friendly conversation with a random guy and his girlfriend, in the way that is only possible on a London night bus.  At least they were more fun to talk to than the smelly guy next to me!

Finally, once we were almost entirely across London, I put the young guy on the bus for the last leg of his journey, and made my own way the rest of the way home.  At least I was lucky in that the Tall South African was awake at 2 AM, so I texted him the entire way home.

Once I was home and had flopped into bed, I heard my phone ringing, but since it was past 2 AM and I was pretty certain it was just the Tall South African, I let it ring.  I was just too tired to talk at this point.  What a long day and an painful trip home!