1) I got an email from my Mum today. She chose to send me a homoerotic calendar of extremely buffed and overly Photoshopped Rugby players barely covering their genitalia with towels, hands (their own) or, inexplicably, a turtle.
I'm still not sure why she thought I'd like that.
She was kind enough to comment that I was better looking than all of them.
She then followed this up by saying 'Oops - just tripped over my white stick!'
2) This afternoon, Ali emails me to say he's discovered my blog and can he read it. I thought I was being cunning by refusing to tell people who actually know me my website address. I didn't consider anyone being cunning (or that bored at work) to put in some very specific key words from our Brighton Weekender into Google.
3) Most irritating of all, my ex-girlfriend from NY (Ex because she lives there and I live here and we'd have to travel out to see each other until she became so involved that I felt it best to nip things in the bud this May because the whole thing wasn't practical) is coming to London over Xmas. I was pretty happy about this.
Ok, very very happy about this.
You see, Large Northern Flatmate won't be here, so there's an empty apartment, a larder full of chocolate, Christmas television, and the local bars and restaurants of West London at our disposal.
Plus lots and lots of sex. I've been thinking about that a lot.
I can't lie. Ever since she emailed me her arrival dates and said 'Let's meet up for a curry', I've more or less been walking on air with a perpetual grin. We were a good couple. We had great sex. Everything was brilliant.
Apart from the distance and her keenness - the two seem irreconcilable.
But still, the key word here is brilliant. This Christmas was starting to look brilliant...
Until an hour ago.
An email ~ Her new English boyfriend will be here too. He lives in NY though, so there's actually a future for the pair of them, although there won't be if my sexplans for that weekend were ever carried out. She had conveniently neglected to tell me about his visit. She had told me several weeks ago that she was dating a Brit, but sounded decidedly pessemistic about the whole affair.
But no, apparently she's getting used to the idea of him and thought she'd pop in and say hello to me while they swan about London as a smug fucking couple JUST LIKE WE WERE BEFORE I BECAME A TYPICAL BLOKE AND BAILED OUT.
NOW I WANT HER BACK BUT IT'S TOO LATE AND I AM GOING TO DIE ALONE. THIS IS WHY I HATE THE EARTH.