Thursday, July 29, 2010
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
Happy birthday, Mermaid.
But no. It is not awkward in the slightest. He no longer hates me [although admits he DID hate me for quite some time], and we chat like we’re old friends. Cycling, horse riding, studying, work, hair [he is the ultimate metro man and I love it- he always smells amazing, he is clean and his hair is nice. What is not to love?] and, of course, love life. Turns out he knows EVERYTHING about me, from my tattoo to who I dated and where I’m working. A bit creepy [although the latter can be owed to his having a television.] We end up in Springboks. You know you will suffer from a stupid, irresponsible night for the next day [or week] if you end up there. There’s a fight at the door [of course] and we’re all ‘it’s good to see you, la la la’ and I end up sleeping over at his house.
Major facepalm! I’m waking up going ‘WHAT were you thinking? WHY do you do these stupid things????’ Self-loathing ensues.
After sneaking out with him [I do NOT need his family to be questioning me right now], I feel a rush of nostalgia. Nice car, driving by a stunning view on a perfect day, with this utterly gorgeous male. My mum is, of course, over the moon. And me? I’m still in the same clothes as the night before. But honestly, it was gooooooooood.
So, here’s a lesson: Never say never. Also, expect the unexpected. Read: always carry a toothbrush in your handbag.
Monday, July 26, 2010
There is only one break-up I have ever taken really badly, and that was when The Nazi very unexpectedly dumped me. I smashed a vase in my house [hard enough to chip the concrete wall], lay on the ground [in a ball gown, as this happened straight after a big event] and cried my make-up onto the floor. The next day I walked halfway to campus to hand in an essay, barefoot and puffy-eyed, with black streaks of eyelines down to my collar bones [still in said ball gown], before realising I was probably attracting more attention than I wanted to. I also disappeared for a few days, and when I returned I spent many a night drunk-dialing the poor guy, blaming him for everything that was wrong in my life. So, fairly soon after this break up I went on a bit of a drinking spree. Alone [obviously, otherwise it simply is not tragic enough], and strategically having just one or two drinks at each place. And when I say ‘each place’, I mean pretty much every liquor-selling venue in Stellenbosch. Needless to say when I landed up in Bohemia [ten hours later], I was fairly tipsy. And, of course, I called The Nazi. We talked, I got angry and stormed out, only to realise that my wallet was decidedly gone. I went back into Bohemia [where I had definitely last had it], but no luck.