I have run into the Brit twice randomly, on the same corner of the city, which happens to be right across from the building I work in.
Yesterday he mentioned he would stop by to visit my office after work. I worked almost an hour late yet he never showed up.
Any chance of going out with him has now disappeared. There's no way I'd accept his invitation at this point. It's been 3 weeks since the party where he asked me out and he's yet to actually follow through by making a date. And now he can't even follow through on the simple act of popping in to say hello.
Bah. The accent is totally not worth it.
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Cold Shoulder
My new BFF still hasn't spoken to me since I told her everything. I heard through FilmFestGirl that she and Boy are still together.
Oh well.
(Long expulsion of air from deep within my lungs)
At least she knows the whole truth. And that's all I can do about it.
More power to her. I really hope he doesn't hurt her again.
Oh well.
(Long expulsion of air from deep within my lungs)
At least she knows the whole truth. And that's all I can do about it.
More power to her. I really hope he doesn't hurt her again.
Monday, July 20, 2009
Love Conquers All
Lost love letter reunites couple after 16 years (AFP)
LONDON — A British man and his Spanish former sweetheart have finally married 16 years after they drifted apart, reunited by a love letter lost behind a fireplace for over a decade, reports said on Monday.
Steve Smith and Carmen Ruiz-Perez, both now 42, fell in love 17 years ago when she was a foreign exchange student in Brixham, southwest England, and got engaged after only a year together.
But their relationship ended after she moved France to run a shop in Paris.
A few years later, in a bid to rekindle their love, Smith sent a letter to her mother's home in Spain. It was placed on the mantelpiece, but slipped down behind the fireplace and was lost for over a decade.
The missing missive was only found when builders removed the fireplace during renovation work.
"When I got the letter I didn't phone Steve right away because I was so nervous," Ruiz-Perez told the Herald Express local newspaper.
"I nearly didn't phone him at all. I kept picking up the phone then putting it down again.
"But I knew I had to make the call."
When they were reunited, it was as if time had stood still, said Smith, a factory supervisor.
"When we met again it was like a film. We ran across the airport into each other's arms. We met up and fell in love all over again. Within 30 seconds of setting eyes on each other we were kissing.
"I'm just glad the letter did eventually end up where it was supposed to be," he said, after the couple married last Friday.
Copyright © 2009 AFP. All rights reserved.
LONDON — A British man and his Spanish former sweetheart have finally married 16 years after they drifted apart, reunited by a love letter lost behind a fireplace for over a decade, reports said on Monday.
Steve Smith and Carmen Ruiz-Perez, both now 42, fell in love 17 years ago when she was a foreign exchange student in Brixham, southwest England, and got engaged after only a year together.
But their relationship ended after she moved France to run a shop in Paris.
A few years later, in a bid to rekindle their love, Smith sent a letter to her mother's home in Spain. It was placed on the mantelpiece, but slipped down behind the fireplace and was lost for over a decade.
The missing missive was only found when builders removed the fireplace during renovation work.
"When I got the letter I didn't phone Steve right away because I was so nervous," Ruiz-Perez told the Herald Express local newspaper.
"I nearly didn't phone him at all. I kept picking up the phone then putting it down again.
"But I knew I had to make the call."
When they were reunited, it was as if time had stood still, said Smith, a factory supervisor.
"When we met again it was like a film. We ran across the airport into each other's arms. We met up and fell in love all over again. Within 30 seconds of setting eyes on each other we were kissing.
"I'm just glad the letter did eventually end up where it was supposed to be," he said, after the couple married last Friday.
Copyright © 2009 AFP. All rights reserved.
Saturday, July 18, 2009
Hell Hath Thawed
It's been a week and the Brit has yet to make good on taking me out to dinner.
The day after the party, I posted a comment on his Facebook wall about a hilarious thing he'd said at the party. To which he replied, "Oh God, I don't remember".
So I messaged him and asked him what else he didn't remember. He replied the last thing he remembers was talking to me about my band. That was waaaaaaaay early in the evening. He didn't remember how he got home. I told him I'd offered him a ride but he declined. I also filled him on the fact that he gave me his number and asked me out.
When he finally responded, he told me he'd been filled in on how he got home (shared a cab with 2 other cast members) and that yes, he'd love to go out with me. He sort of remembered that.
So I wrote him back and said I'd leave it up to him to arrange for us to go out.
And I've heard nothing since.
Satan must be happy the temperatures have returned to normal down there.
The day after the party, I posted a comment on his Facebook wall about a hilarious thing he'd said at the party. To which he replied, "Oh God, I don't remember".
So I messaged him and asked him what else he didn't remember. He replied the last thing he remembers was talking to me about my band. That was waaaaaaaay early in the evening. He didn't remember how he got home. I told him I'd offered him a ride but he declined. I also filled him on the fact that he gave me his number and asked me out.
When he finally responded, he told me he'd been filled in on how he got home (shared a cab with 2 other cast members) and that yes, he'd love to go out with me. He sort of remembered that.
So I wrote him back and said I'd leave it up to him to arrange for us to go out.
And I've heard nothing since.
Satan must be happy the temperatures have returned to normal down there.
Monday, July 13, 2009
Hell Hath Frozen
It must be cold for Satan these days. I can't figure out how or why it happened, but hell must have frozen over this weekend because a guy asked me out.
On Saturday night, I was at a cast party for the show that I house managed during the Fringe. I was surprised I was even invited, which I guess is a great testament of my ability to a) make friends; and b) run a tight show schedule.
During the run, I developed a small crush on the lead actor. He's tall, lanky, blonde, blue eyed and British. Oh you better believe it's the accent that I fell for. :) I also developed pneumonia, which resulted in my missing 3 of the shows.
And now, for the back story...
The last time I saw the Brit before the pneumonia KO'd me was on Monday night after the show. We all gathered at the Tranzac, as we did after every show, as that is Fringe headquarters and party palace. Each night there was some sort of dance party or special event. Monday was karaoke - need I say more?
My friend Gordon showed up and we decided to do the MJ classic "The Way You Make Me Feel" as a duet and humble tribute to the late King of Pop. Gordon got a little overzealous in his dance moves and crashed onto his knees about 3/4 of the way through. And that fucked the karaoke machine so bad it stopped dead and they had to take a few minutes to reboot it. The DJ promised he'd get us back up later.
So later turned into 2 hours later and by this point, I was feeling awful and was losing my voice a bit. I had quite a husk going on. Gordon and I were called back up and we decided to continue our tribute and do "Black or White".
This time Gordon behaved and we made it through the song. As I was coming down off the stage and wheezing a little bit, the Brit appeared before me.
"You were AMAZING!!!"
I squeaked out a thank you and before I knew it, he was crushing me in a hug. Awww. Cute. :)
After that we started dancing together. Every once in a while, he'd randomly hug me, and kiss me on the cheek. Double awww.
The time came for me to say my goodbyes as I had a super important meeting at the day job the following morning. He gave me yet another hug and kiss and said, "You are so wonderful." Triple awww.
Tuesday morning came and I ended up not at the important work meeting, but at the walk-in clinic being told I had pneumonia in my right lung. I called work and told them I'd been ordered to bed. I followed that up with a call to my boss at the Fringe informing him of my disease. So no show for me that night.
Wednesday & Thursday came with more bed rest on my part, and more confusion at Fringe. Was I coming back? How many more days did I need to rest? Would I be well enough before the end of the festival?
Turns out Friday was the magical day for me. I didn't go to the day job, and I slept for most of the day so I could make it through the shift.
When I arrived at the theatre, the cast was thrilled to see me back. Apparently all hell broke loose while I was away. The Brit was particularly happy to see me. The first words out of his mouth were, "I was worried sick about you." That was followed up with another wonderfully crushing hug. He then told me he feared he'd done something offensive to me at karaoke night and that's why I didn't show up on Tuesday. The cast didn't know why I was missing until Thursday!
At those last two shows, I noticed he was making effort to come visit me whenever he could. At one point during a costume change, he peeked his head around the corner, smiled and waved.
...long back story eh?
Sooooooo, I arrived at the cast party fashionably late. The Brit had yet to arrive. I brought some beer for everyone, which made me a mini hero of sorts. I chilled and talked with members of the cast and various friends/significant others. About half an hour later, he showed up.
Upon sight he gave me another one of his patented crushing hugs and declared how thrilled he was to see me. He also mentioned he didn't think I was actually going to show up.
From that point on, we were inseparable save the occasional pee breaks and smoke breaks (for him, not me). We chatted about pretty much everything. He asked me a million questions, one of which was, "Are you single?" I begrudgingly informed him that yes indeed, I was. He also asked if I've ever had a serious relationship. I told him about my ex-husband to which he replied, "Ooooh, a divorcee! How sexy!" That made me laugh. I've never thought being a divorcee was sexy in the least.
As the night wore on, he became more and more drunk. I gotta hand it to him though, he can really hold his alcohol. I saw him put away at least 10 beers. And the more he drank, the more he flirted with me. He sat on my lap at one point - that bugger weighs less than I do, I'm sure of it. He sat beside me and held my hand for a few moments - he's got really slender fingers. And he tried to crawl up my jeans. Yes, he tried. I was standing rockin' the bass on Rock Band and he crawled along the floor and his hands found their way up my right pant leg. He tried to stuff his head up there too but thankfully there was no room. And even more thankfully, I'd shaved my legs that morning!
Around 4:30am, I finally decided I had to go home.
I gave him a hug and said I'd had a lot of fun. As we pulled back, he looked at me and said, "We're friends now right?"
"Yes, of course."
"Well, since we're friends, we could get dinner some time. Or grab a pint?"
"Yeah, that sounds good."
"I'm so happy I met you! Is it totally rude of me to be asking you out like this?"
And that's when Satan pulled on a pair of long johns for the first time in, well, eternity.
He gave me his number, another few crushing hugs and off I went. I sent him a text message shortly thereafter so he'd have my number.
And now we'll see if he actually follows through.
On Saturday night, I was at a cast party for the show that I house managed during the Fringe. I was surprised I was even invited, which I guess is a great testament of my ability to a) make friends; and b) run a tight show schedule.
During the run, I developed a small crush on the lead actor. He's tall, lanky, blonde, blue eyed and British. Oh you better believe it's the accent that I fell for. :) I also developed pneumonia, which resulted in my missing 3 of the shows.
And now, for the back story...
The last time I saw the Brit before the pneumonia KO'd me was on Monday night after the show. We all gathered at the Tranzac, as we did after every show, as that is Fringe headquarters and party palace. Each night there was some sort of dance party or special event. Monday was karaoke - need I say more?
My friend Gordon showed up and we decided to do the MJ classic "The Way You Make Me Feel" as a duet and humble tribute to the late King of Pop. Gordon got a little overzealous in his dance moves and crashed onto his knees about 3/4 of the way through. And that fucked the karaoke machine so bad it stopped dead and they had to take a few minutes to reboot it. The DJ promised he'd get us back up later.
So later turned into 2 hours later and by this point, I was feeling awful and was losing my voice a bit. I had quite a husk going on. Gordon and I were called back up and we decided to continue our tribute and do "Black or White".
This time Gordon behaved and we made it through the song. As I was coming down off the stage and wheezing a little bit, the Brit appeared before me.
"You were AMAZING!!!"
I squeaked out a thank you and before I knew it, he was crushing me in a hug. Awww. Cute. :)
After that we started dancing together. Every once in a while, he'd randomly hug me, and kiss me on the cheek. Double awww.
The time came for me to say my goodbyes as I had a super important meeting at the day job the following morning. He gave me yet another hug and kiss and said, "You are so wonderful." Triple awww.
Tuesday morning came and I ended up not at the important work meeting, but at the walk-in clinic being told I had pneumonia in my right lung. I called work and told them I'd been ordered to bed. I followed that up with a call to my boss at the Fringe informing him of my disease. So no show for me that night.
Wednesday & Thursday came with more bed rest on my part, and more confusion at Fringe. Was I coming back? How many more days did I need to rest? Would I be well enough before the end of the festival?
Turns out Friday was the magical day for me. I didn't go to the day job, and I slept for most of the day so I could make it through the shift.
When I arrived at the theatre, the cast was thrilled to see me back. Apparently all hell broke loose while I was away. The Brit was particularly happy to see me. The first words out of his mouth were, "I was worried sick about you." That was followed up with another wonderfully crushing hug. He then told me he feared he'd done something offensive to me at karaoke night and that's why I didn't show up on Tuesday. The cast didn't know why I was missing until Thursday!
At those last two shows, I noticed he was making effort to come visit me whenever he could. At one point during a costume change, he peeked his head around the corner, smiled and waved.
...long back story eh?
Sooooooo, I arrived at the cast party fashionably late. The Brit had yet to arrive. I brought some beer for everyone, which made me a mini hero of sorts. I chilled and talked with members of the cast and various friends/significant others. About half an hour later, he showed up.
Upon sight he gave me another one of his patented crushing hugs and declared how thrilled he was to see me. He also mentioned he didn't think I was actually going to show up.
From that point on, we were inseparable save the occasional pee breaks and smoke breaks (for him, not me). We chatted about pretty much everything. He asked me a million questions, one of which was, "Are you single?" I begrudgingly informed him that yes indeed, I was. He also asked if I've ever had a serious relationship. I told him about my ex-husband to which he replied, "Ooooh, a divorcee! How sexy!" That made me laugh. I've never thought being a divorcee was sexy in the least.
As the night wore on, he became more and more drunk. I gotta hand it to him though, he can really hold his alcohol. I saw him put away at least 10 beers. And the more he drank, the more he flirted with me. He sat on my lap at one point - that bugger weighs less than I do, I'm sure of it. He sat beside me and held my hand for a few moments - he's got really slender fingers. And he tried to crawl up my jeans. Yes, he tried. I was standing rockin' the bass on Rock Band and he crawled along the floor and his hands found their way up my right pant leg. He tried to stuff his head up there too but thankfully there was no room. And even more thankfully, I'd shaved my legs that morning!
Around 4:30am, I finally decided I had to go home.
I gave him a hug and said I'd had a lot of fun. As we pulled back, he looked at me and said, "We're friends now right?"
"Yes, of course."
"Well, since we're friends, we could get dinner some time. Or grab a pint?"
"Yeah, that sounds good."
"I'm so happy I met you! Is it totally rude of me to be asking you out like this?"
And that's when Satan pulled on a pair of long johns for the first time in, well, eternity.
He gave me his number, another few crushing hugs and off I went. I sent him a text message shortly thereafter so he'd have my number.
And now we'll see if he actually follows through.
Sunday, July 5, 2009
This Sucks
It's been almost a year since my divorce was finalized. And two things haven't changed - I still don't have a boyfriend and my bangs still haven't grown out.
Nothing I do seems to make any difference in either situation. My bangs are stuck at chin length and there are no men in sight.
I do not want to die alone with shitty looking bangs.
And if one more person tells me I have to be happy about being alone, I'm gonna fucking cut their bangs and their boyfriend's balls off.
Nothing I do seems to make any difference in either situation. My bangs are stuck at chin length and there are no men in sight.
I do not want to die alone with shitty looking bangs.
And if one more person tells me I have to be happy about being alone, I'm gonna fucking cut their bangs and their boyfriend's balls off.
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