Abstraction becomes reality. ... An entire lifetime that comes down to this single frame of life.

Wearing a black tank top under a blue one, my newest Levis and one mouldy ‘white’ trainer sock, the other is a vaguely okay pink and multicoloured-striped sock.
Eating/Drinking nowt.
Hearing Jennifer Knapp – Martyrs and Thieves
Dreamt about cannae remember.
Currently reading the same book as before. Basically finished it though.
Present MSN name All you have to know about men & women: women are crazy, men are stupid. The main reason women are crazy is that men are stupid.
Talking to no one
Last text from BoHo
Word of the Day psalms

I have the least active love life than anyone I know. Seriously, I’m hearing The Sound of Music in the distance again, and I’m sure my t-shirt is getting itchy and… habit-y.
Every time I think there’s someone, it’s usually either someone who I don’t feel the same about, so someone who doesn’t feel the same about me, and very often the whole beginnings-of-a-relationship is in my head.
Every time someone knew comes along, I say it’s different this time, but is it ever?

I’ve been asked out, I’ve been flirted with, I’ve been kissed, I’ve been asked for a quickie (long story) and now there’s a new guy in my life, sort of, and I think he might even be interested. What I am worried about, however, is that I’m just not in love with the idea of being in love more than I am interested in him. Because, if it turns out I am, then it’s likely the whole thing is just turning out how I want it to turn out in my own head – and I’m just interpreting signals allllll wrong. I really hope I’m not. I really want this to work out.

This guy, Adam... he’s older than me by a few years, but he spent the time talking to me smiling and joking about as well as finding out how old I am and what I do. Yeah, it doesn’t sound a lot, but he initiated all the conversation (apart from when we exchanged names) and seemed pretty keen to talk. He’s a bartender. I’ll tell you this, either he’s just a really decent, friendly guy who just chats with anyone or he actually is somewhat interested. The thing is, at Pride Park, no one talks to you, or if they do, it’s solely work related and they just don’t ask you about yourself. The more I think about this, the worse I feel about it. I mean, I’m not trying to do an Imogen-stint over here; I am actually just pretty insecure. He’s a high-shelf t-shirt and I think my original idea ‘High-shelf. Don’t touch,’ was closer to the mark.

Pride Park is doing my head in. Mostly, it’s awful, but then there are some great bits too. Even the dodgy bits. Like the guy who more or less asked me for a quickie.
The issue is with that was that I was dog-tired and the only thing I wanted was to get home to get in bed, not with him as I sorta led him on to believe. I totally led him on and I really regret that. My only consolation is that he was too drunk or embarrassed to ever say anything to me if he ever saw me again, and remembered, of course.

Our conversation would have gone like this:
Him: Blah blah blah blah bullshit blah blah flirty blah blah.
Me: Cut the crap. Just ask me if I want a quickie.
Him: Do you want a quickie?
Me: No.

Then it could have been over and done with in seconds. But no, no, I would have to do it the hard way.
He started off nice, if flirty, and that was fine, because I didn’t have to deal with anything. It was a match day and he’d been invited over to the Mercedes table for some after-match drinks which I brought over to the table – rounds and rounds of them – so no one at that table could have been sober. Yet, to look at them, they all looked as sober as when they walked in.
When everyone had finally cleared off, he hung back and started asking me if I had a boyfriend (but didn’t wait for the answer as he wasn’t really that interested in what the answer was) as well as asking me how I was getting home before asking me if I wanted him to walk me home. For a start, it’s a heck of a walk and I knew he didn’t have walking on my mind. I didn’t know at that point how to get rid of him (which is odd, because I’ve used being ‘engaged’ as an excuse of not having to deal with guys before, which I find hilarious that it actually worked) so I just agreed with him and told him I’d meet him outside the main entrance once I’d finished cleaning up and then signed out. So he left and I thought furiously of what to do. I sorted myself out and got my stuff together and as I was walking back through the restaurant again, he came back in and asked me if I was still going to meet him. I said I was, but needed to be a couple more minutes. What I actually ended up doing was to go up two floors and take a back route out and down which took me out the side entrance and into a turn stile exit thingy. I waited there for my dad to pick me up, and he parked some way away from me. Thing was, the guy (who I may as well admit was fit – fit like you wouldn’t say no, except I would, but didn’t) was standing by the entrance just waiting for me, and so he would have seen me if I walked over to my dad’s car. In the end, I just legged it and told my dad to drive. Just like in the movies. Except there were no cameras and I was avoiding the sex scene as opposed to engaging in that as I would expect there to be in a movie like that. But I digress…

Last night I dealt with the perviest taxi driver ever (miles apart from the best taxi driver I ever had who I got into a discussion about suing Pride Park for not paying me for bloody ages – at the time, they hadn’t paid me at all) who called me ‘babe’, ‘gorgeous’, ‘sexy’, ‘honey’, ‘baby’ and ‘duck’ within about the first ten seconds I was in the car. I tried to make conversation, but he seemed keen on grossing me out, for example, I asked him how his night had been and he said it was better now he’d picked me up. He also told me that he once went out with a waitress and he kept telling me she was really hot. To be honest, I didn’t care and I tried to sidle up as far as I could to the window without actually just jumping out – which I have to say, took a great amount of self-control – and then he shut up for a bit until he dropped me off. I was so glad, but he watched me the whole time I walked up the drive and was at the door step, just smoking is cigarette and looking ever so slightly creepy, more pervy, actually.
I mean, I don’t mind getting male attention; usually it’s flattering, like the recent event in Big Blue with napkin-guy, but there was absolutely no need, I tell you.

I’m going to go for a bit and see if I can stop freaking about this Adam thing. My stomach is in knots right now. Meh.

Roger, over and out.