What stalks around...

Great. OG is stalking me while I am stalking (in vain) French Guy.

I treated OG like shit and he's only wanting more, while (if I'm being really honest with myself), French Guy is more or less treating ME like shit, and as a result I am dying for him to turn around and would litteraly jump in his pants as soon as he bothers calling me. And now, seeing the intensity of my stalking, he knows it. Great.
Why are human beings so twisted?

At least, I am being a civilised stalker and only send my text messages at appropriate times, which is more than what OG could say.

Had I had him on hand, I swear I would have ripped his head off, when I received yet another text message from him at 7:58 on Sunday morning. What was he thinking?

As far as I am concerned, Sunday mornings are for one to sleep through one's hangover caused by three nights in a row of really heavy drinking and loads of partying.

So much heavy drinking indeed, that I swore I wouldn't approach anything known to contain any sort of alcohol, at least until Thursday. (It's wise to set sensitive goals)


Last Thrursday (the 14th of Febraury, just in case you live on Mars), Stella, Brooke and I went out around West London as a F*ck Valentine's girly night.
As a result, I am now tagged all over Facebook with one different cocktail in each hand, (two different cocktails on each picture) pulling most ungracious faces, as a tribute to what I thought was the most disgusting day of the year.
Oh yeah, this, and coming up to any stranger I could find, telling them how pathetic I was, since I had two "boyfriends" but was spending VD getting hammered with my girlfriends.
Nice and grown up.

I spent the rest of the week-end visiting friends up in Birmingham, and visiting Birmingham and its nightlife as well.
At the risk of sounding like a closed-minded Londonner, insensitive drinking was the only way forward if you wanted to cope with being in a club up there. Or maybe my friends just didn't bring me to the right ones...

Anyway, I am looking forward to my first week-end in London in quite a while.


And I really don't know what to do of Z, who called me and who with I agreed to "get together and go out". Shit.