Saturday

I was holding it tighly with my shaking hand, trying to adjust it in the perfect direction.
When it was over, I waited, anxious, and feeling even more nauseous.
Two minutes later, a single line appeared, and I let out a scream of joy which wouldn't have been out of place in the bedroom.
Thank God, I wasn't.

My period had come two days earlier and had vanished that same afternoon for an obscure reason, visciously reminding me of the condom accident two weeks ago.

So, that morning, decided to come to terms with that awful suspicion, I pulled myself together and went to buy that pregnancy test.

My Italian friend Martina, staying on my futon for the week, heard my screams of relief and I had to explain why I was singing Oh happy day in the kitchen.
She's no one to judge, seeing that, back in the day when we were still schoolmates, she called, begging me to go and buy her a morning after pill. It was 7am on a Saturday morning, I was on my way home from a China White night with Shakira, and was wearing nothing but heels, a skirt and a sparkling top. After getting the "you-slut" look from the Boots cashier, I made Martina buy all my drinks for a whole month...

This time, we decided to celebrate my non-pregnancy with MariJuana (her again), and spent the whole afternoon downloading music in the kitchen.

So, I completely forgot to sort out the accomodation problem I knew I was going to face after my date with Hihes that same night.
As I said, Martina was staying in my room, and couldn't possibly sleep in the living room because my "dear" (see the irony there) housemate's stupid cow of a mother was also staying over for the week-end.

And after a few drinks in Brick Lane with Hihes, I couldn't bring myself to tell him to make his own way home.
So we shared a cab back to The House... To find Martina in my room, and the mother in the kitchen, finishing the stock of wine we stashed under the fridge when we knew she was coming...
Such a good look!

I told the mother to piss off when she drunkenly asked if she could see what my date looked like, but she still made a point of stumbling in the living room to steal a glance. Do I need to precise I'm not a great fan of the woman?
But she saved the night by letting us know her passing out in the kitchen with loud snoring.
Martina got the sofa in the living room, and Hihes and I got my room!

Hihes...
I wish I wasn't such a cynical commitment-phobe. Everything is just perfect with him, but I can't help thinking that something is going to turn awfully wrong at some point.
We have the same interests and can spend hours talking about everything.
He's smart, terribly handsome, and strangely doesn't behave like a player. And he's the only guy I've been dating in a long time that I could actually proudly introduce to all my friends.
He's GREAT in bed, even if he's serioulsy impairing my sleep quota...
And incredibly sweet.

As I keep telling Stella, I simply can't believe my luck.
He's invited me to all his gigs, keeps asking me how long I'm planning to stay in the UK for (I wish I knew darling...), tells me I'm beautiful, and even invited me to spend the week-end at his parents' house.

I mean, isn't it every girl's dream to meet someone like that?
But now I've written it down, I think I know what's wrong: it's all going too fast for me.
I'm not the greatest monogamist one could come across. I still find it amazing I haven't slept with anyone else since we met.
The only time this happened, I was madly-deeply in love.
But I can't be in love with him yet, can I? And I know I'm not. We've only known eachother for what, three weeks? And I find it weird someone could sincerely like me after such a short time spent together.
I'll just try to wait to see what happens, and will try not to freak out in the mean time...