The evolution of gym kit

I go to the gym a lot. There really is very little else to do up here. I've never really been a gym sort. The first time I went they had to show me what everything was because I had absolutely no idea. I'm not really a sporty person, or I suppose I wasn't a sporty person a few months ago. My life up here may be very quiet but it's allowed me to affect a transformation which has been reflected in my P.E. kit

Outfit 1 - my first gym kit

As you may notice the shoes are, well shoes. The shorts are 'I must have been drunk when I bought these' and the t-shirt, well actually the T-shirt is okay. Basically it says 'I'm new to the gym'.






Outfit 2 - Starting to get some of the right gear
After my first visit I realised I needed to get some at least mildly sensible trainers. I was still wearing shorts that were almost trousers (honestly what are they for apart from to give you a stupid tan). The trainers were far lighter than my normal shoes and marked the beginning of me starting to a bit mental on the cross trainer (Elliptical for the American readers). I would burn about 200 calories in 10 minutes on it.



Outfit 3 - It's all white
I switched a slightly lighter t-shirt and got some of those special trainer socks. I happened to be out doing some shopping at lunch time and thought I'd get some actual clothes for the gym rather than just going in some things I had lying around. At this point I managed to burn 300 calories in 10 minutes on the cross trainer. My trousers started to get loose and my shirts fitted differently.





Outfit 4 - At last sensible shorts
The gym lady said that 300 calories was extremely good going for ten minutes (she couldn't do it). I was really starting to enjoy the gym experience I wanted to beat that. After really pushing myself I burned 340 calories in ten minutes on the cross trainer and decided that I'd aim for 700 in 20 minutes. I also started a new program of weights lifting twice what I did before. I sleep better and feel amazing after going to the gym. no-one ever told me that after going to the gym you would be off your face on endorphins.

Outfit 5 - My first vest
At this point I'm going to the gym every day, without fail. Even when I'm hungover. My first 20 minute run on the cross trainer lets me hit 600 calories, a few days later I push myself as hard as I can and I hit 678 and feel sick. I go and buy a vest, the first one I've ever owned that's not part of a fancy dress costume. I look very different and I've lost about 10 kilograms and put on muscle everywhere. The next day I hit 703. I've done it. The gym staff are amazed and my take my picture to put on the wall.

The next target is 1000 calories in 30 minutes. I'm not sure if I can do it, but I'm going to try. My knee is fine now, occasionally it still feels a bit weird but I'm stronger than I've ever been.

I don't know who I'm doing this for, I suppose myself, it really helps me relax but I'm rather looking forward to the next time I take my shirt off and a girl is around. she will get a pleasant surprise. I may still be a fop but I'm not built like one anymore.

Time to do stupid things

I haven't worked out when my blogging time is, which is why I've been a bit rubbish at updating. It's not a great excuse but it's a true one.

I've spoken to the Albert bridge girl a few times since the lunch. She laughed a lot on the phone, when I wasn't even being that funny. I'm taking this as a good sign, but I'm not getting too hopeful. I have however been managing to play it cool, which is rare for me. I don't do cool terribly well.

I think the problem is that playing it cool, is very much like not being interested and that just seems wrong. This is a source of comedy for me at least - I'm writing again - even thinking about doing a show. My job just doesn't stimulate me as much as it used to, and there just has to be more to life than well, a cottage.

That isn't to say I don't like the cottage, but I just don't think I should be here yet. I should be in London, or something. And not just because there are girls there who I like stomping across bridges with, but because there is life there. Proper life, the life you can't predict and that constantly surprises you. I need change, radical changes which means I'm going to have to do some radical stuff.

Yes, I'm fixing to do something stupid.

Something stupid on Albert Bridge

I think I'm dancing toward something stupid. The weekend was one of highs and lows but for me the pin-sharp moment was on Saturday at about 5pm.

I was walking across Albert Bridge in the rain, sheltering under an umbrella with a woman. She asked why I was walking so slowly and I said I was just enjoying the moment. It was cold, I was late for something else and I'm not even sure that she likes me in that way, but for the length of a bridge I was terribly happy.

Choose your own adventure Louche.

I have a few options this weekend. It's like a choose your own adventure book.

1) Stay in house whole weekend writing stuff I should have finished years ago. Clean cottage, do washing. Wake up on Monday with everything ready for the week ahead but with a vague feeling of 'is this really what I spent all week looking forward too?'. This is how I spend a lot of weekends

2) Date on Friday in the tiny town set up by a chum at work. On Saturday go clubbing with people from work (all girls) and see what the charms of the local town are on a normal weekend. On Sunday go for long hike with chum from work (male).

3) Go down to London for long weekend. Catch up with lovely London chums, then have lunch with girl who is so pretty I can't really talk to her (she has asked me). Possibly have first date with someone else work people are trying to set me up with. Toy with the idea of Christmas shopping but decide to do it online instead. Come home tired but at least feeling I did something with my time off.

4) None of the above.

The dangers of pork

I've been neglecting this blog of late, so much so that I fear social services may take it away at any moment and rehouse it with some foster posters.

At the weekend I went to London for a bash. It was marvellous. The tube was broken so I had to walk through London in the rain to get to the party. I didn't mind though, because it was a lovely stroll. Almost every street I walked down had a memory tied to it. First dates, last dates, chance encounters, drinking adventures and even quiet moments.

The party was good too, a load of old friends that I've sadly rather fallen out of touch with, well apart from email exchanges. It was by anyone's standards a lovely reunion. I ended up crashing at chums place and then meeting another chum for breakfast and then ambling off for a first date. The date wasn't a huge success, but it rounded off a pretty good weekend.

I miss London, and I'm resolved to return, which is I said to my boss that I wanted to see about a transfer to the London office. I do enjoy the people I work with but I just don't know anyone outside of work up here and so it's a but dull in the evenings to say the least.

I think, if I was settled down, cottage life would be fine but since I'm not it's not quite right. Instead I'm stuck eating vast amounts of pork as a source of entertainment. I ate so much tonight that I had to wobble down to the wine shop to get some port otherwise I would be dead, FACT*

I need a new hobby.

*Not actual fact

The worst line ever

There is a line us chaps fear more than any else. It over-shadows 'I'm pregnant', eclipses 'I want to talk about where this is going' and makes 'we need to have a talk' seem like something from a greeting card.

This line, feared by men the world over is.

'Let's just be friends'

I got hit with it last night, from Ms Pencil Skirt. She'd still like me to take her out to the Wolesley, but just as friends. Oh really.

This was after yet another day at work where I performed miracles and then got abuse. I think we can mark yesterday as one of the worst Tuesdays I've had in a long time.

On the plus side, I think I've just found a load more stand-up material.

Let's hear it for feminists dressing like ladies

I had a date on Sunday. It was lovely, and definitely worth the 200 mile round trip (I really do live in the wrong place). It was great because we went somewhere (Tate) and did something (Look at art) and I had so much fun that I can't really remember much about the show.

The girl is a feminist, which is essential for me, I can't abide simpering submissive types. Once you've had fem, you won't date men? No that doesn't quite work. Anyway, proper feminist but not in a hair shirt sort of way, she was tottering about in a pencil skirt with excellent lippy. She was dressed like this because she likes it.

I have to say, that speaking as a straight chap the rise of the whole 1940s burlesque trend has been very appealing. Especially when adopted by slightly fiery types with strong views on gender equality. Ding Dong

Adventures with trains

I'm off an adventure today. It's just too boring up here so I'm going down to London to absorb some culture with a girl.

The date yesterday was okay, I mean pleasant enough but there wasn't really any sparkle. I suppose my mind was somewhere else, and that somewhere being plotting being in London today.

I've got out a spiffy suit, and even more spiffy shirt and possibly the world's greatest hanky. Oh yes, I'm going to be massively overdressed for going down to London but then that's half the fun.

London

I went down to London for a party with some old work chums. It was supposed to be a party open to loads of people but in the end only about a dozen turned up. It was ace though. It's been almost years since I last got drunk with that crowd in a bar. I miss them.

I miss London too. Even though the cottage is very lovely at the moment. I just feel like I'm coasting, which probably isn't a totally bad thing - I've got a job. So it's a good sort of coast.

I've not been proper drinking for a while, and so the next day I was pretty broken. Even a shower at work didn't help that much - and my new show gel smells like Jolly Rancher.

I was in the gym pre-shower on the cross trainer. I wasn't going to go mad or anything I just thought I should go as part of the program to try and make my knee less wonky. The gym lady ask how I was and so I said hungover before carrying on with working out.

After I finished my work out I got given a pamphlet about alcohol abuse and a table to fill in recording how much I've been drinking. It was a bit much, but the gym lady is harmless and terribly earnest. I'm not going to fill in, that's cos I'm a rebel yeah?

Not much else to report really. I've got a load of new stand-up material which I'm slowly turning into a routine and today I've got a date, although I'm not sure I want to go now. I've met someone in London. We've got a date arranged and everything.

I think I need to go to London more often, it's just a shame that the train costs more than a flight to Europe. I hate public transport.

Jack the ripper on twitter

Through a hole in the space time continuum I saw some famous tweets of yore. Before the whole closed I managed to cut and paste a few of them.

Jack_the_ripper

is feeling spring heeled. Might go out again tonight. I can't stop LOL!!!11!!!

@Police you can't catch me. Hehehehehe

Went out anyway, did something naughty, again, hope no-one notices.

Want to go out tonight, but can't.

What a night LOL!11!1!!1!1!

Going to #Whitehall tonight can't find black bag or knives.

Feeling a bit stabby

Everything is great in America

Until I agreed to cycle to Spain I was, and well I still am thinking about trying to get a job in the States. I'm not sure if it's even possible but where I am now seems like a bit of a small pond, if that makes sense.

America has always been a land of wonder and opportunity every time I've gone there I've not wanted to come back. So perhaps I should make the next logical step? I'm sure every chap has dreamed of getting a steamer to the states and landing with only a few suits rolled up in a carpet to his name.

So I'm writing up my C.V. as I need to at least see what is out there, and yes before you ask, there might be a girl in America who I've been chatting with, but as I've said before anytime I've done outlandish things to impress a girl it's worked out. Not often with the girl, or actually rarely with the girl but the end it's improved my life.

I rather like the fact I've got two different plans now, both involve girls and both are mutually exclusive. Also neither girl knows I have plans.

2010 Should be exciting.

The next stupid plan - Spain.

I have just agreed to cycle to Spain. Yes a girl is involved. It's for charity (which is what normal people use as an excuse to do stupid things) but mostly I'm going because she is hot.

Actually she is a bit too hot. Last time I met her I couldn't really hold a conversation with her because I fancied her so much. Instead of saying witty things about topical events I sat quietly with my hands in my lap. In hindsight it was funny, but at the time it was painful.

So anyway, under the guise of perhaps being to talk to her again I've agreed to spend two weeks cycling to Spain at some point in July. Now I just need to get a bike, and well, the fittest I've been in my entire life.

All of this and she probably thinks I'm a bit simple. Oh well, it will probably be fun and even if it goes terribly wrong it will make a good stand-up routine.

Bringing Silly back

This post has got a bit serious of late, and so that's going to change. I'm going to start being silly again. Silly is good.

I'll just start brewing another coffee and then try and flex the nonsense muscles.

Patterns in life

I've noticed a few patterns in my life now. Things that repeat themselves so often that they are practically rules.

1) If I see an outlandish item of clothing I like, I should buy it. There will always been an occasion in the future when it is exactly the thing I need.

2) When making an important decision, it shouldn't be based on a careful weighing up of the facts. Just think which option will allow you to meet more lovely girls or meet a specific lovely girl again. This is the result that will make you the most happy in the long run even if the thing with that specific girl never happens.

3) I need to have more than two ideas for rules to make it a proper list.

Expected Week / Actual Week

Here is the week I expected to have
Monday - Second date with leggy Policewoman
The first date was fun and she had been texting me lots about what we were going to do.
Tuesday - Performance Review
I've been doing my job well, super well. I had a page full of things I've done that no-one else can. This should be two hours about how great I am. I have no life really apart from work so I've been giving it my all.
Saturday - Party with work people
Some of the sales girls asked me to a birthday party. Since I had a car now I thought I'd go along to say hello.

Here is the week I actually had
Monday - Stood up by Policewoman
Tuesday - Awful performance review where I was given the impression that I'm only just doing my job, all good stuff ignored.
Saturday - Car blew up on way to party, now broken and will cost more to fix than it is worth. I've had it less than a week.

The danger of ham

I'm trying to write something difficult, well to be exact I'm finally getting around to writing something I should have done ages ago but since I'm really supposed to be setting up my council tax payments I thought this might be a better thing to do.
I'm also cleaning the house. You can tell when I'm writing something hard because the house is spotless. Currently the house still has some spots but they are fast disappearing.

Now I'm writing this instead of writing the thing I should be writing, arrgh.
Anyway, I used to have a system for writing. I'd get up early, brew some mind bendlingly strong coffee and sip it while bashing away furiously. For really hard stuff I'd put some jazz on, nothing with words in it though, otherwise they would start appearing it what I was writing. Occasionally I'd take breaks to brew more coffee or make some poached eggs on toast. I managed to squeeze out a book doing that.

The thing is I don't really drink coffee anymore, I rather drank too much of the stuff and it was making me ill. Decaf is all well and good but it doesn't make your face tingle and mind move faster than you can type, so I'm trying to find other things to help me write. Other treat foods so I can train myself that 'this is writing time.'

Today I got a huge hunk of ham, as part of my experiment to find writing food. You know one of those cooked ones that looks like something Asterix would eat after duffing up some Romans. It was extremely nice, so nice I did a little dance while eating it, but it also made me sleepy, and thirsty and now I want to drink wine and have a nap.

I've got some other foods to try out, those funny little expensive chocolate puddings that lonely people eat instead of having sex and some very thin biscuits. Biscuits seem to get better the less of them there are.

I'm hoping that one of these will become my new culinary muse and I can finally do that work. It's definitely not ham, Ham is tasty and a good rewards after fighting legionnaires but it's not right for when you have to churn out 1500 words before you will allow yourself to go to the pub.

So kids, I suppose the lesson in all of this is don't ham and write.

Relationships with Rashomon

It's weird how two people who were in the same relationship can have entirely different views on what happened. Even when both of you were there. Isn't it?

This isn't in reference to anything specific, it's just an observation.

Being Bowser

In the late 80s and early 90s there was a convention in computer games. At the end of a level, or a series of levels there would be a boss. This boss would have to be defeated to progress through the game.

The boss would be impressive looking, but they would always have a weak point so they were more of a puzzle than anything else. Some would be invulnerable apart from a special point or others would require you to attack a specific point that would let you damage them. Bowser was a classic one of this, whole parts of my childhood were spent working out where to hit him with a turtle shell.

That's what I'm like. I'm mostly healed but if I hit my knee even moderately hard then, well I'm caused to swear an awful lot, for a long time and possibly roll around on the floor. I hope this goes away as I do tend to bounce off things as I make my way through life.

A sofa makes a house a home

Yes I've been rubbish not posting. I don't know why, I'd like to say because I've been entertaining my brother but mostly I think because I've been having a bit of a 'what's it all about' moment. I hope it wasn't birthday related but it might be.

The birthday was good. Small but good - I had a lot of last minute cancellations. We got a vast amount of strange booze, and drank it while messing around with one of those rockband games which was a great ice breaker. This continued until it was time to go to the slightly rubbish local club for some dancing.

We lost some of our party at this point because they were so drunk and they had to go home. The remaining people of the group danced, performed magic tricks (no really) and drank more. Much much later we returned home for some slow cooked pork and more band related nonsense.

The next day was spent in recovery watching films and eating more slow cooked food. It was a good day.

My brother has been here a week now and it's been great fun. I've even brought a sofa so people can lounge properly. I had no idea how important sofas were but now my house feel like far more of a home. Of course I got a vintage sofa set from the 1940s and so the downstairs room is now edging towards looking like something from The Chap. I've even got a new haircut to match it.

Louche-mas Eve

It's my birthday tomorrow.

Here are previous birthday related posts.

2008 - mostly about how nice my girlfriend was.

2007 - pleased with a new pith helmet

2006 - Hungover

I'll post something more in a bit but I'm feeling a bit spaced out after work.

Parallel Dating with zombies.

Today has been strange. It started off strange because I had no sleep. I had to stay up, well all night to make sure that some stories got posted for something pretty important. They were posted and we managed to get nine hours ahead of the rest of the world on some news. That was a good thing.

I made it into work, just, but I was in a daze the whole time. I don't think I've ever been that tired without being hungover in my life. It was made worse because I had to be extremely focused during the night, and that I haven't been sleeping brilliantly since the accident. I've been a zombie today.

Anyway, I had an important meeting at 2pm. It happens once every couple of weeks and I'm by far and away the most junior person in the room. I'm there because I know what I'm talking about with stuff and so I back up my boss when he gets quizzed. Well grilled would be more accurate, these meetings normally take the format of us getting verbally beaten up by a range of different people. I don't enjoy them that much, the only way to avoid getting a sack beating is to spend days before planning and re planning stuff. It's a lot of homework.

This one didn't start off well because I wasn't at 100% to say the least and my prep had been a bit sparse. The usual pleasantries were exchanged and then the grilling began. Then about half way through I said something, in passing that made it all change.

We had been set this almost impossible target of something to do, and without realising in the last month we had got mostly there. This changed the entire format of the meeting and suddenly someone else was getting grilled and I got to sit back and day dream about how early I was going to go to bed.

This was only a day dream as I have a date tonight, this is a first date with a scientist based in Cambridge. We are going to go for hot chocolate. Non-drinking dates are the new getting smashed on wine.

Also the Policewoman has said yes to a second date which is excellent. I like the Policewoman. I still don't really feel right about this 'parallel dating' but I just can't be bothered with waiting months while someone sorts their head out. Gosh, I wonder what could have caused me to adopt that attitude.

I'm being positive about it though. After the first date with the Scientist, I've got to meet up with the Teacher and the horsey lady and perhaps the Historian. Although that last one is less likely since a smashed up bike makes popping down to London a bit of a trial.

So while I may be single and slightly crippled for my Birthday, things are definitely looking up.

The thinking chair

Being a bit of a cripple is annoying. By crashing I've managed to make it so I can't do any of the things I like. I can't ride bikes, I can't ride bicycles, I can't go to the gym. It is rubbish, really quite rubbish.

I think this might be the thing that finally drives me to going to the art centre and finding something to do in the evenings that doesn't involve drinking. I need some hobbies, something to be passionate about. I also still need a cooker, which may end up being a birthday present to myself. Or at least a 'expenses cheque turning up' present to myself.

Today I hit my knee on my desk, that was extremely painful so I sort of jerked my head and now I have a hurty knee and an achy neck. I really should be put down for my own good. It's the nicest course of action.

I need to go on another grand adventure, or at least begin planning one. At the moment I just seem to spend whole evenings sat in my single comfortable chair thinking about things too much. No good can come of that.

River related japes

You know it's been a good date when you learn two new ways to break the law. Did you know 'obstructing electricity' is an offence? Also if a chap decided to steal another chaps punt for some river related japes that would be piracy? Yes, actual piracy. It's almost worth the time. Almost.

Speaking of hard time the date was fun. Not a trial at all. We went for a hot chocolate together and strolled around Cambridge (twee, nice buildings, lots of people with cameras). We talked about all sorts of things, it was terribly pleasant and rather silly. I like silly, silly is important to me. She was tall, wearing a beguilingly short skirt and had extremely good hair.

After a few hours it was time to amble home, I dived onto the train and made my way back to the cottage. I think I'd like to see the Policewoman again, but we shall see I suppose. Either way, I've got another first date to arrange with a vaguely horsey woman who also lives in Cambridge this week.

I don't really want to be seeing a bajillion people at once, I'm just being efficient that's all. The moment I sart seeing one in anything even resembling a serious fashion this nonsense will stop, until then, I want to meet as many people as possible to increase the chances of meeting someone special. It's all about the odds isn't it?

It's going to be a busy week.

Dating on painkillers

I'm off to Cambridge today. I've got a first date with a Policewoman, yes the date-fest is on-going. I always find that first dates are the most exciting, it's the high-stakes date, and I suppose they are a bit like job interviews. Both people are assessing the other one for suitability and previous experience.

I'm still fairly crippled but I think I can do this. Yes it's stiff upper lip time. Think of England and all that.

I went to see the Doctor yesterday and got a five minute assessment (yes you are lucky, eat more painkillers, give it time) and a twenty five minute lecture on the dangers of motorcycles.

The rest of the day was a bit of a blur, frantic working, and then a train home. Getting the train is lame but it does give me more time to read lovely books from the Woo. Right, I have to go and select some socks for my date.

What colour best says 'while my views may often seem conservative I'm actually a liberal and the increased powers given to the police service trouble me' in a sexy way?

Learning about pain

I hurt. A lot. If anything it's getting worse. About to able down to local GP for a House style examination of why I'm so hurty. It's pain-tabulous.

I'm not sure why it is getting worse but something that happens while I'm asleep - which could be as simple as lying on my back - means I wake up not feeling too chipper.

It is lame. I could do without this.

The crash wasn't my only stupid thing I did this week, while spaced out on painkillers and wine it suddenly seemed to be like a good idea to go for a drink with Chuck. It was her idea I should add. It was actually quite entertaining, and yet it definitely proof that I'm over her. She is far too mad for me. Far too mad. This didn't stop us kissing, oh god I'm such a spaz sometimes.

In other women news the girl I had a couple of dates with last week email me to say she couldn't see me anymore. It was actually very nice of her. Tell you what, since the best blog are about truth, I will post the Dear John letter.

'Hey Louche,

How's things? I just wanted to write you and explain my somewhat erratic behavior this weekend. The night before we went out this guy who is a close friend whom I've been interested in for a long time told me he broke up with his girlfriend because he likes me. This came as a complete shock to me because I really didn't think that was ever going to happen. I think you're a really awesome..and hysterically funny...guy and I'm sorry that I can't go out with you any longer. Anyways, I hope you don't mind too much. It was really great to meet you. Hope your birthday goes well!

Cheers,

NYC Girl'

So there you go, it's been quite an eventful week.

These are not lucky socks

I had a crash today. I tried to break and the tyres just wouldn't grip. I hit something fast, very fast. I then flew with the bike and did some cartwheels. Then I landed, a considerable distance down the road.

I should be dead, or have broken most of the bones in my upper body. Instead I slightly scratched my knee and bruised my back. It's a miracle. The medics said so. I'm relatively unhurt. I've always had supernaturally good luck, but I don't want to push it too far.

So I think I've given motorcycling a good run, and I've done some amazing things on them but I've used up my luck and so this is the end of motorcycling and I. I'm going to keep my smashed up helmet as a reminder of how close I came to not being me anymore.

The option of booze.

I think my poor little mind has been a little fried after the last few days because it's not used to going quite so fast around corners or away from traffic lights. The cause of all this frantic stimulation will be returned by the end of this week and I'll return to relative normality, I hope at least. I shall miss it though.

Anyway, on to other matters, specifically women. I have been going on a lot of dates, more are lined up. Although I always feel a bit guilty going dates with a range of different people at the same time. Nothing has been said to make it exclusive or anything like that but it still feels weird. Needs must and all that, and so I've been covering thousands of miles all over the country to see a range of women. That makes it sound like I've been house viewing, which I suppose is close.

This riding around gives me lots of time to think, I mean apart from when I'm going 'bloody hell I can't believe I can go around a corner that fast' and so I've thought back on other dates. Booze has been a key point of these days, so it's been weird to not have booze as an option when meeting people. Not unpleasant, just different.

It's amazing how many adventures have started with 'lets get another round of cocktails' or 'I've heard the rosé is excellent here'

Gay thought for the day - Gay Best Friends in books

So many characters in chic-lit have a gay best friend, as in almost all of them, but why is the gay-best-friend always the same type? You know, probably very pretty, slightly bitch an well dressed.

Why is it never a bear or a muscle mary? Or even a chap who just happens to like other chaps, it's always a screaming stereotype.

Girls are weird

French cake 1 - Blues 0.

I've been feeling a bit blue for the last few weeks. I wasn't sure why, but I just didn't feel tip top. Today it all changed, and I think a part of it was due to going to the gym again for the first time in weeks.

It was a rather sweaty gym visit, the air conditioning was broken. Luckily I had the gym to myself so no-one had to witness me on the cross trainer for the first time in weeks. I pushed myself moderately hard but I didn't go mad. It was enough to let me feel marvellous for an entire morning of management training (v. David Bret, but also useful).

When the management training was over I jumped onto the bike and powered down to London. I managed to cover 2 hours worth of distance in 1 hour and fifteen minutes. I've now covered about 600 miles on the dream bike and I really get it now. It was fine before, and I enjoyed it but now I understand it. I was absolutely scything through traffic on the way into London. I was even a bit sad when I finally arrived at my destination.

I dropped the bike off at the car park, scamped up to my old work to say a hullo and catch up on things. This was a bit of a mixed experience because while it was lovely it did remind me of everything I missed about working in Soho.

At about 3ish I had arranged to meet up with the date. This was a new girl, I'd not met her before so it was quite exciting waiting for her to appear. She has just arrived in London so we strolled around and I showed her a few secret restaurants and other useful things. After our feet were tired we stopped for tea and French cakes in Soho.

With the cakes out of the way we said our goodbyes and parted and I hopped back into the bike and caught rush hour all the way home. This was perfect for me as it allowed me to play some more on the bike. It's weird how much fun heavy traffic is when you are on two wheels rather than four.

The ride home started off fairly sensible and then went a bit mad. I'm home now and I'm still tingling and feeling, well a bit fighty. A good ride does that to a chap.

What a brilliant day.

Some facts, I suppose.

I think blogs are best when they are honest. So I'm going to be terribly honest about some things. This is in no-way connected to the fact that I'm at home and a bit bored.

1) I am attracted to the way people move, not really the way they look. Pictures are all well and good but it the way someone moves that does it for me. I think it is about the quickness of movement, but I can't describe it more than that. It works for chums as well.

2) That being said, I have a nearly fatal attraction towards unsuitable women. I really do have awful taste. At least I'm consistently bad though. I can't help myself around striking, tall, fiery but probably emotionally damaged brunettes.

3) Even when mashed I've got reasonably good judgement, anything bizarre that has happened while drunk has typically been the beginning of a good adventure. I've got a good drunken homing instinct too. But, when I'm feeling fruity all reasonable logic goes out of the window. I don't approve of this, and it has got me into trouble.

4) Something about the way I act with women brings out the worst in them. I don't know what it is, but I'd love to correct it. By worst I mean all the stereotypical mad woman stuff. I'm sure it's not all me that causes this, but it has to be part of it. I need Cesar Millan to come and show me what I'm doing wrong, I bet it's something like projecting the wrong sort of energy or not being Alpha enough. It's not all bad I have scores of lovely, extremely close female friends which I adore so I can talk to women, you know properly.

5) The weirdest things upset me. An ex once said, while breaking-up with me 'I sometimes get the impression that you do nice things because that's what you should do, not because you want to.'. That still haunts me.

6) Sometimes human behavior utterly baffles me, actually I can be more precise with that. Sometimes female human behavior utterly baffles me. If a man is being weird towards one of my female friends I can tell what is really going on with 100% accuracy. Women sometimes do things that just make me need to sit down and stare at the wall.

7) I've read somewhere that most chaps imagine what women they see in the street look like naked, I imagine what they'd look like better dressed. I can't help myself. Once I've worked out the look I'm never quite sure what to do with this information.

8) I'm not terribly good at confrontations. You know fights and things. I wish I was, when someone does something a bit iffy I tend to simmer on it for a decade or two before saying anything. On the plus side if someone annoys me I'm good at making them 'dead to my eyes', I should definitely list 'holding a grudge' on my C.V. as a strength.

9) I once took a large amount of magic mushrooms, without realising quite what sort of effect it would have on me. I spazzed out for a whole evening and ever since then I've loved forests. I don't think I'll ever do anything like that ever again because it had such a radical effect on me.

10) I don't like going to gigs. I rarely like the music, and even if I do it's too loud and I don't think it's worth damaging my ears over. If there was a quiet gig, and they played only the songs I wanted, in the order I wanted and I could skip them if I wanted, that might be okay, for a bit. It worries me that I can't understand why other people like gigs so much, it really does.

11) When I really like someone I tend to ignore all the reasons why I shouldn't go out with them, these reasons only come to light after things have ended.

12) I thought this was going to be a more interesting post when I was walking back from the shops, I'm not so sure now.

Date two - Are girls the cure?

We had a second date. It was good, we both laughed, the events were spur of the moment and engaging and yet, something wasn't quite there. It might have just been that I was knackered, or perhaps, and this is more troubling. I'm so used to being mashed when fist connecting with someone that it feels weird to not break the ice with a cocktail or two.

I've not become sober or anything, it's just that riding down means no boozes for me. I don't know about this one, which isn't to say things are bad. On paper she is excellent, which sounds damning and that's not right either. She is spiffing, I think that I'm just feeling a bit weird at the moment and a girl isn't the cure if that makes sense.

Would this mean I will be messing things up with a terribly nice girl just because I'm not right in the head? I don't know. I'd hate to do that again.

Day 462: Ate some jam, morale is high

It was fun. It really was. The date nearly didn't happen because I felt really unwell at lunch time - my boss tried to send me home but I resisted. It seemed important that I went on this date.

So I borrowed some fever reducing drugs off a co-worker and jumped on the bike. The ride down was so-so, some what brisk. The bike I have for the next two weeks is. Well it's related to Piqued BB and so I arrived in London in record time. I took a slightly stupid route to the restaurant because I skipped a turning but I managed to get there with three minutes to spare and not be too bad. The drugs were still working.

She was a little bit late and we had that slight moment of awkwardness where you are both trying to work out if the other person is a mental. However by the time the wine list was out of the way we were talking nonsense about angels sneezing and the rest of the evening was great. At one point she laughed so much she was nearly sick and so we had to get her a glass of water and give her a time out.

Eventually we scampered off into the night, her back to her house and I jumped back onto the bike and zoomed home.

Riding a motorbike in London is great because you get to skip every queue, it's like being on the VIP list for traffic lights. Riding a faintly ridiculous sports bike in London is something else. What I'm trying to say is that it was a lovely date, but riding the bike home was also one of the high-points.

Admittedly when you get outside of London it's a bit boring, but crossing London is lovely. So yes, I arrived home fine, slightly damp (the last 5 minutes were in the rain) and then fell into bed. The next day I was feeling weird again so I took the day off, I still feel a bit weird but I think it's mostly stress more than anything else - work is a bit mad at the moment.

It was lovely to go on a date though, I'd forgotten what fun that was. Oh and the subject line is the punchline to a joke that caused the girl to need a time out.

The madness of Chuck

Today was long and slow. This is because I had almost no sleep (my fault). Silly Louche. So I had to slog through the day just trying to hold it together until I could get home and go to bed. I need to pick out my look for tomorrow, but that shouldn't take long.

Chuck emailed me today to apologise for 'nearly banging your door down'. So not just a load of text messages but also smashing on the door. Lawks, that's borderline frightening.

The upshot of this is that I'm going to shave off the Elvis style sideburns, they are just too potent. I'm not ready for this level of responsibility.

P.S. Why do some women act like this? I mean she really 'had me' for a while and then she very thoroughly smashed me to pieces. I've moved on and now she wants attention?

Resisting Elvis

This weekend was surprising. I was dreading going to Skegness. A depressing holiday camp near the sea but not on it. There is nothing to do there apart from eat rubbish food and drink. I wasn't looking forward to it. I think the main problem is that event is organised by people who don't ride motorbikes so they don't get what is fun about bikes.

Anyway, we arrived, got very drunk danced like loons, talked to girls and some of the group did some light vomiting. What was actually quite good fun. I had my own holiday apartment so I could retreat from the party at will. Which was nice because the other apartment was like a zoo.

The second day involved some light duties (riding about and then judging something) before it was time to become Elvis. I spent ages shaving to get Elvis sideburns and then finally it was time to get into costume. The jumpsuit was very cool, as it not warm in the slightest. It always was rather revealing, but was silly and that's what counts.

We scampered out into the night, with one person dropping out before we even got into a club because he had drunk so much while getting ready. The entire club was full of people in costumes, and I had a good time dancing away.

Then Chuck appeared, I of course was civil yet distant and we spoke briefly about things of no concequence before our groups moved to different night clubs. I briefly saw her again later in the night but we didn't talk. I didn't think much of it apart from being pleased that I'd managed to be civil.

Finally I went home and crashed asleep and when I woke up I had two 'booty text' from Chuck. I had a bet with someone at work that she would try something like this, I even got the hour right. Girls are so rubbish sometimes.

I didn't reply to the text messages, I don't to any of the ones she sends me, but I expect I'll get an email about it today. With emails I reply to anything work related but everything else is ignored. In a way I feel sorry for her, it must be hard to resist Elvis.

On the plus side she did mention she is leaving in November so that's great news. And I have a first date tomorrow in London. I'm not sure quite what I'm going to do with transport. If I ride down it will be far quicker and easier but I can't drink, but riding means I don't have to worry about the last train or any of that nonsense.

A list of things I like more than girls

I live a simple life these days. So I'm concentrating on things that are more pleasant than having a girlfriend or a girl who isn't your girlfriend but who demands all of your time.

Anyway here is my current list of things I like more than girls:
Scrambled egg and jalapeno sandwiches
Riding motorbikes
My new bed, although that's mostly due to the mattress
A well cut suit
The feeling just after a sneeze
Sleep
Toast

Oh and in other news I've got a work thing this weekend. I have to go to a dull part of a country for a big event and judge somethings. Chuck will be there. I am not looking forward to it, although I think if I pack some more top-notch sandwiches it might just be a bit more tolerable.

Work update

So yes, a bit more depth about things that are going well. The chief of these is work. About a month ago I got given the job my boss had. He has been moved off to something else. I also have been put on some sort of management training program.

It's been going really well, almost a bit too well really as I've noticed a couple of the chaps are a bit weird around me now. I hope this will pass, but it is a bit strange.

The cottage is aces, I really enjoy being on my own. It's still not complete, I could do with a sofa and a few other bits and bobs but it's definitely on it's way.

The rest is a bit crap, I've not got the hang of this country living and so most evenings I just tap away on my computer or go to bed early. I've been going to the gym a lot, it seems to be my reaction to break-ups. So I'm in the best shape of my life, but there is no-one to show off my new shape too. What a shame eh?

Still perhaps tomorrow I'll suddenly work out how people meet people in the countryside. It's strange, I had no idea I'd be so crippled socially without a constant stream of parties to go to in Soho.

The return

I went somewhere else for a while, but it didn't feel like home. So I'm back. I'm back because I've been doing this for years and it seems wrong that stuff about my dad has to be kept behind closed doors now.

lots been happening, but in short while my career is going wonderfully my social-life is an absolute train-wreck. Actually that would make it sound vaguely engaging at least. It's not that. Oh no. It seems I'm not very good at making friends outside of Zone 2.

Two steaks is more than enough for any man.

My younger brother was supposed to be visiting this weekend but a complete transport breakdown caused it to get cancelled at the last minute. This is sad as I was looking forward to him coming over to see my new place.

It's a shame, but ultimately it's probably a good thing. In a few weeks I'll have a fridge and a cooker and other things to make the house a bit more habitable and ready for guests. I don't even have a bed for myself yet, let alone for guests. Still even with that view it's a shame my brother wasn't here for the weekend.

I got the news that he wasn't going to appear after I'd returned from a big shop to get things to eat while he was here, since I don't have a fridge I had no choice but to eat it. Two large steaks later and I was feeling a bit strange.

This wasn't enough of a weird feeling to stop me going to a friends engagement party. I zoomed over on the bike getting lost about a dozen times, I have yet to perfect the art of checking the route on the Iphone and then actually remembering it. Hopefully it will come in time.

The party was good, low key and polite rather than a drunken mess, which surprised me but I suppose people have to grow up eventually. I stayed on the soft drinks and then rode back. The ride was excellent, it was dark, I chose a route that was all wiggly roads. Including a bit through a forest that was a bit magical and I had music playing so for an hour or so I was completely in the moment.

Absolutely no thinking about girls or any of that nonsense just concentrating on getting the next corner absolutely right. It was almost a shame to arrive home, but I did and went to sleep with radio 4 quietly whispering in the background.

I've got no real plans for today. It's weird, I've completely reverted to my single life style again. Vast empty weekends punctuated by the occasional visit to see chums or ride just for fun. It's not a bad lot really.

The table cloth of regret

I had a drink with Chuck last night to see if we could work things out. Things weren't worked out but my god I tried. I was grown-up and everything. I think sometimes people don't actually want things to fix even though they say they do. I didn't know things were completely broken until about midnight.

The whole evening was like a mental boxing match, for moments I'd win her over and then she would circle back to the bad telephone conversation and it would start all over again. At one point we even parted ways and said goodbye, and as I was walking up the hill to go home she called back to me asking how much port I had left.

This sort of stuff continued in the house. She would swing wildly between being flirty and then sat on the other side of the room. In the end she got a cab home, and I was quite clear that I had quite enough female friends thank you very much and so I doubted she would get to join them.

Of course I'm sad that it is over, especially since I tried so hard to keep things going but there is a happiness in knowing where you stand, even if it's in a bad way. I can move on now.

Oh and I wasn't going to invite her back to my cottage, but I'm glad I did. I thought it was a sanctuary away from her, but it's also a reminder of what she missed out on, she said as much.

I had no idea a carefully chosen table cloth could be a weapon.

New place

I'm in. It is good. The decoration is a bit Spartan, because, well I don't own that much furniture. Still It makes the cottage look nice and large.

I've brought some blinds, so I have a measure of privacy which is nice and I think once I have a fridge and a cooker I'll feel very moved in indeed. Not having a fridge is okay, you just stay away from dairy things a bit more, the lack of cooker is a bit more annoying. It's a Sunday, I'm reading the papers while listening to radio 4 and the only thing missing from this scene is a large chunk of meat slowly roasting in the oven.

Well there are a few more things missing, like a table, but that's not the point. I've got a bit of an easy day planned today, I'm going to go and buy some pipes so that I can plug in the washing machine and perhaps one of those draining board things. It's amazing how many little things you need to make a house work.

It's all rather fun getting them together though. I wouldn't say I'm exactly house proud but I am strangely pleased with my 'duck egg blue' blinds in my bedroom, or actually 'the master bedroom' to be exact.

That's another weird thing about living on your own. Your stuff can go anywhere. I'll never have to have the sort of conversation where someone, usually a girl says:

'Do we really want the sofa to go there?'

Someone at work has already tried to move in with me, but I said no. I said it politely of course, but he is a bit of a berk and I moved here to have a place on my own.

It's a bit strange at first, I've always lived with other people and I've always been the lodger, or at least the flatmate who has been there the least amount of time. This means that you don't have dominion over the telly and you have to ask first if you want to have chums over for port.

I never felt like I could really relax, where as now I can. This is my space. Roar

Bags of fun

Everything I own is in garden bags ready for the great move later today. It's a bit like being homeless, except, because I bad at giving notice I'm currently renting two flats. What a spaz.

I'm not a fan of moving house but this one should be relatively painless. It's not a huge distance and I don't have quite as much stuff as I used to have, although it appears I still own more than I think.

Yesterday I inspected the new place with the estate agent and we talked over all the points that were wonky. There weren't that many as the flat has been well looked after. It made me realise how spartan the new place is, which I suppose is the very definition of 'unfurnished'.

I have to work out the order of things I can't do with out, because I can't afford to buy everything at once. The current thinking is.

Right away
Bed (If I get an inflatable one it can be used in a spare room when I get a real bed)
Fridge (Although now I'm thinking this can go lower down if I can find a nearby shop that sells ice)
Cooker (there was one in the flat but at the last minute the previous chap took it).
Cups and plate set (Morning coffee is a sign of civilisation)
Knives and forks (See above)
At least one pan (I'll get more over time)

Soon
Washing machine
Curtains
Some sort of table
Chairs to go around the table

Quite soon
Cocktail cabinet
Sofa
A real bed
Hatstand
TV
Iron
The rest of the things a chap should have.

I'm quite looking forward to slowly decorating the place, I think as long as I can make food and I have somewhere nice to sleep I'll be okay. If I get a few collapse-able boxes I can use them as a temporary measure to store clothes. Then when I have real clothes storage places the boxes can go in what is going to be my study. See I've got it all worked out.

I'm learning stuff already and I've not even moved in. How come all white goods cost at least £100 pounds? Why is even an awful sofa so expensive?

Keys

I get the keys on Monday. This fills me with glee. The idea of being able to decorate somewhere entirely based on my tastes is mind boggling. I should have done this months ago, although I probably couldn't have afforded too. The deposit was huge, but luckly I had a bit of cash saved up. It's gone now, but I do have a house. WIN.

Yesterday was my company riding assessment. We have to be taken out by some police chaps and they say what they think of our skills. I was concerned about this as a black mark would mean that I wouldn't get to play on fun bikes.

It went well, the chap was impressed by my skills and he caught me a couple of things that have dramatically improved my riding. I'm now faster, and safe than ever before. Hurrah for knowledge.

I'm in Devon at the moment for my Mum's birthday. I'm also eyeing up more things to take back to the new place. It's completely unfurnished so I'll be living a strange life until I get the simple things like a fridge or a bed.

Oh and I'm thinking of starting a new public blog, but I'll let you know where it is if I do.

New flats

I looked at some houses today, yes houses not flats. It's weird that you can rent a whole house for the cost of a damp garden shed in London. I've even found one I quite like. It's got three bedrooms, which is a touch decadent but the reason I like it is that it has a vast front room, and that the back garden is just begging to have bikes parked in it. I shall sleep in the main bedroom, the second one shall be reserved for guests and the third room will be a walk-in motorbike clothes only wardrobe. I don't think girls will even be allowed in that room.

It's exactly the sort of place that a man about town could host a party or two. It's pretty cheap too, actually the least expensive place I looked at today. The only downside is that they want two months rent as a deposit and then a month in advance. That's quite a lot of dosh to hustle up. I suppose I'll have to see if I can manage it.

The flat is completely unfurnished which is weird, and also exciting. I'll need to get a bed pretty sharpish but then the idea of having a place to myself is very appealing. Very appealing, and with the extra rooms, should I decide to get extra flatmates, I can.

I would talk about the Chuck stuff but it's a bit too depressing. It really is. I can't imagine things getting better so I think I need to resign myself to moving on. Ho-hum. Still a new house is a great way of getting started I suppose. Nothing like a new house for a new start.

Onwards and upwards.

Fug and flats

I spent most of the weekend in a fug. I'm entirely sure why, but it was there. I did everything I could think of to battle the fug, I ate well, did things I like but it was there like a damp blanket.

Yesterday I went to the gym first thing in the morning and that seemed to help. It made me feel extremely good for a while and then I sick in the afternoon. I think this might be because I may have got a little bit addicted to coffee. I've given it up for a few weeks but I had some on Sunday as part of the attempt to de-fug. It was delicious, absolutely splendid but on Monday I had a head-ache, hold and cold flushes and the hairs on my arms were standing up.

Of course it could just have been another weird illness, there are loads of them floating around at the moment. It seems people are constantly unwell with things that might not be swine flu but could be. Yes, perhaps that's why I felt so awful yesterday. That's far more pleasant an option than coffee addiction.

Or actually it could have been that I had gym rage and pushed myself a little bit too far. I broke my personal record for burning calories in ten minutes and I think I hadn't drunk quite enough water before that. Also I went for a very disappointing meal at lunch time, so it could be that as well.

So it's not really coffee's fault, don't blame the marvellous black liquid.

In other news I'm looking at flats now. Well houses actually, for less than it cost to rent a room in London I can rent a reasonable two bedroom house. I don't need a second bedroom but I do need proper parking for a bike and that seems to only come with places with two bedrooms.

I've never lived on my own, so I'm not sure if I will agree with it or not, but part of the reason for moving is to be in the same town as all my chums so if anything I will have more of a social life.

Steak night

So I should probably explain a bit more about what happened on the evening when I saw Chuck. She was emailing me about work stuff and I was keeping it 100% formal and work related. This threw her a bit, so much so that she asked if we could go for a drink after work.

After thinking about it very carefully I agreed to go for an orange juice before I went to the gym. I was wearing the wonder tie at the time so I was feeling safe.

I arrived slightly late, with my gym bag over my shoulder. I would say my attitude was cool, perhaps even frosty. I was there out of curiosity, I think.

Anyway she started talking about stuff, and fairly quickly got into apologising. She also revealed that she wasn't stressed about work, she was stressed about us breaking up. It was nice to hear her say sorry, I didn't expect that.

The point at which I thought perhaps it was worth giving it another go was when she said she had been wearing the silly rings I gave her (the pirate one and the butterfly one) on her building pass. I asked to see it, and yes the rings were on it.

That was a very sweet touch, and for that I agreed to give it another try. We're not fixed yet. I think it's like an Airfix model that has gone a bit wonky. It's not mended, but we know where the glue is.

Yes that's about it for now. No dates are planned or anything like that, but we have an accord, like a non-aggression patch.

In other news I cooked a steak this weekend and it was double aces. I've decided that Chinese Night is dead, long live Steak Night!

Three unexpected things happened today

1) I got offered my boss's job

2) I got invited to the Playboy Mansion for a party

3) Chuck asked me to meet her for a drink after work and she did the one thing I'd never expect. She said sorry.

I also wore a tie to work, these events may be connected.

Chuckgate (continued)

I had thought Chuckgate was over, another sad moment in a life that will in time be turned into an amusing anecdote, but I was wrong.

The moving on process had begun, I ditched a load of stuff, cleared out my phone and then I updated my Facebooks status, well actually I was fiddling with it to see about blocking people, like Chuck so that they don't see what I'm up to. In hindsight I should have just de-friended her but I thought the privacy settings would be enough. I was wrong.

I updated my status to being single, which I thought was, well to be expected really and she sent me a frantic email at work about it asking what was going on. She sounded really hurt, and again I'm baffled. If someone does everything they can to push you away, why should they expect you to stick around? If the answer is 'because they are women' well, I'm joining the gays.

Aside from that not much else to report, I've become an almost full time gym bunny but since I go to deal with stress I think you can draw a fairly simple conclusion from my daily visits there to exhaust myself.

It's weird though, since I've stopped fighting for Chuck's attentions I'm happier than I've been in months. It was weirdly stressful in the latter stages because I never knew where I stood with her. Oh bum, now I need to go to the gym again.

I've seen this all before.

Chuck emailed me twice today, and then sent me a text message late at night. She was acting as if we hadn't had several very unpleasant phone calls. Behavior like this is just so predictable. Now that I know that she is doing an A I could show how the next few months is going to work out with a map. It would be boring if it wasn't so tragic.

People at work have remarked how happier I seem, and I am because I have a bit of certainty in my life again. I like knowing how I stand with people, and if the result is negative at least that's a result. I'm not sure if this makes me a bit mad or just a pragmatist.

It was an office affair that got out of hand, that's all. I thought for a while it was something else but affairs like this are relationship equivalent of smack. They are consuming and in the middle of it you forget everything else. When you stop and look around you realise your life is in tatters and you weren't even you anymore.

On the plus side, if I am doomed to repeat myself I'll meet a fiery Latina next. So I should probably dig out my Spanish books again.

The healing power of chainsaws.

I went to Devon, well actually I went to London first and then to Devon. I could have got the train to London but I decided to ride down on the bike and then across to Devon, using London as a handy half-way stop to break the journey up.

London was fun as always, it reminded me again what I miss about it. I think I would have a different opinion of London if I lived in a lovely cottage somewhere but since I live in a sort of sub-Peckham type area it's looking pretty good right now.

It was fun visiting the London office, it's where magazines that *everyone* has heard of are made, international brands. They are the fun names, and I'm sure they get invited to some great parties but their offices are pretty dull. Or perhaps I only ever visit during quiet times when everyone is hungover and wants to die.

After the meeting I was taken out for lunch by the chap who invited me down and then I shot across London to meet a chum and talk TV show ideas. I pitched a couple more and then went the other way across London to Devon. Crossing greater London was fun, although I still felt a bit wrong filtering past a police car. The outer regions were less so, it just went on forever and ended up taking about four hours to get home - about the same time it takes to go direct.

I was delighted to be back and sat down with my Mum and talked about everything that had been going on. This helped me reach the conclusion that Chuck was very much messing with my head and being awfully strange. While I had done some silly things, it was nothing to justify this level of behavior. In short, everything was based around the fact that I dared say 'no' to her once.

The rest of the weekend was spent going on long bracing walks at the seaside, chopping things up with axes and chainsaws and eating cakes. There really is nothing like a bit of work with a chainsaw to lift a chap's mood

I felt much better afterwards but on returning to Peterborough my mood has lowered a little bit. I think I need to re-arrange my room to make it different and I'll definitely be clearing my desk at work today - it's littered with ticket and things from when we dated.

I'm sad that the relationship is over, there were some absolutely lovely bits, there really were, but I'm more sad that I managed to get myself in a situation with someone almost exactly like A, again. The similarities between the two are actually a bit alarming. It's like there is some factory churning them out. I can't decide if I'd like to visit that factory or not.

On the plus side, I'm good at getting over people. I dug out my smoking jacket, and lucky brogues so I'll be fine in before you can say 'party circuit'.

Healing cakes

I have been put in an untenable situation. Chuck wants me to fight for her forgiveness, and yet if anything I think she should be fighting for my forgiveness. It's as if the person I fell in love with is gone.

The person treating me like this is someone else, that's the only way I can explain what is happening. It's a sorry state of affairs indeed.

Anyway, I've had enough - I said I'd decide by Friday and I've made a choice, ooh, three hours early. That's it. FIN.

Tomorrow should be interesting, I'm going down to Heat magazine to talk to them about the Interspaz. One of the chaps in the London office has decided I'm good at the Interspaz and so now he is using me to get other people excited about the Interspaz, or something.

Post chat I'll zip across London (bikes are good for that) to meet up with a TV chap to expand on a couple of ideas for shows I've had. One of them is bound to land one day. Then I'll zip back across London (see previous comment about bikes) and off to Devon to recharge my mental batteries, they've taken quite a kicking over the last few days and so I need to regenerate.

I also need to eat some cakes, proper Devon cakes.

The Tempest

Life really does appear to be circular. I sometimes think we are doomed, or blessed to relive the same situations again and again. I mention this because while the date with Chuck last night was lovely and wonderful it reminded me of dating A.

Yes A, the girl at work from a few years ago who I allowed myself to get messed around by so much. Chuck even looks faintly like her, well not exactly but she has the same colouring. Understandably this troubles me.

The date was lovely. I picked her up on my bike, we zoomed over to the outdoor theatre in the grounds of a stately pile. We just had enough time for a quick Pimms before taking our seats. The production was excellent, the performers were good in a thespy way and the set design was just the right side of well made. In that you could see the joins but it just made it more real.

I've never seen the Tempest before so I enjoyed not knowing what was going to happen next and so I feared for the characters from one moment to the next and was completely and utterly caught up in it. Chuck would occasionally whisper things in my ear, in a ridiculously breathy way which made my spine tingle and the whole experience was lovely. It really was.

Then I gave her a lift home, going extra slowly for safety and we parted with a chaste peck on the lips. I asked her when I could see her again, and she said 'lets play it by ear'. I was under instructions to text her when I got home, which I did and we exchanged a few more texts before I fell asleep. It was nice.

It was also horrible, because it seemed wrong. I do understand that I clearly said exactly the wrong thing just before going on holiday and that was very badTM and I had done a couple of silly things before then, which were also very badTM but I didn't do them to be bad. My intentions were either honourable, I was trying to talk about my feelings on a deeper level than I ever had before or talking about something that was bothering me. I'm just not very good at grown up relationships so occasionally I say something in a way that is less elegant than it should be.

And so after the day of the very badTM thing, I went on holiday and while I was away Chuck went on some dates and yet when I returned I was the bad person who got dumped? She said she spent the dates talking about me but still it feels wrong. I've said sorry for what I did, and I understand what was wrong about what I did but it hasn't satisfied her.

I've battled for Chucks attentions once before from another chap, I didn't feel good about it and I just don't want to go through that again. I just don't know if that is a a reasonable expectation. I get the impression that she wants me to fight for her again as some sort of punitive course but if she is going to see other chaps then, well, I don't want any part of that.

re-reading this post it's hard to make her sound nice, she is nice, or at least she was when I first met her. I wish I had blogged more of our few weeks of dating because they really were magical.

I can't believe I've got myself into this situation again.

Good Egg, Bad Egg

I tend to see things in one of two ways. I'm a black and white sort of chap. People are either good eggs or bad eggs, you don't get, well Curate's Eggs in my mind. Although I suppose a Curate's Egg isn't quite right either.

I think perhaps, or actually since talking to a good friend, I know this isn't ideal. It's a simplified vision of the world. People are complicated, life is complicated.

I've also had the whole girlfriend thing explained to me by the same friend, and I now know that if I'd just talked to her say four weeks ago, none of this would have ever happened. I get it.

People date at different speeds, it's as simple as that. I don't know why I couldn't see it before but I get it now. Of course this isn't a silver bullet, which is why at 3am I'm on the interspaz writing gibberish instead of being asleep.

Needless to say it's a bit of a tough time over at Chez Louche at the moment.

Oh and in 'amusing only because it happened to someone other than you' news. My boss had a meeting with me today to ask me if I was Dyslexic. A combination of jet-lag and Chuck related issues had caused me to include a couple of spelling mistakes something I wrote and so now at work they think I'm Dyslexic.

I did explain the situation, apart from the Chuck bit, so perhaps they get it now.

Confucius say 'girls are trouble'

Chuck emailed me today. It was about the tickets to see Shakespeare that had been booked months ago. We were supposed to go on Thursday but she has a friend coming up, so she wondered if I fancied going on Wednesday.

I didn't even think we were going anymore because of Sunday night but, well, I don't know. Anyway, we agreed on Wednesday and I thought I wouldn't hear from her until then, but she emailed me again.

And again, asking about how my day was going and letting me know she didn't sleep well last night either. How am I supposed to reply to that 'well it's your fault' or perhaps 'good'?

I am lost as to wait to do or say. I think I'd like to get back together with her, but I don't want to encourage this sort of behavior - me as this demon figure - when while I said something silly I didn't go on any dates while I was away.

Oh look she is phoning. She called to see if I was okay, this was good. We talked about some stuff, this also good. I was a bit distant because I'm so confused, and then we started talking about the less good stuff. This I think was a good thing because, well it needs talking about.

We discussed each other's positions (trying to gain a bit of empathy) and, for a moment I thought we were making progress and then it went all wrong, again over a chance remark.

I'd say I'm decidedly less inclined to want things to work at this point, this may change when I've had some sleep but for now.

Girls are trouble.

Dates

The more I think about the dates thing the more it is getting to me. So yes we weren't going out, but it's not like I was going on dates, or doing anything naughty, even in Vegas.

Thing is, I've always held the view that if someone cheats just tell them to bugger off. I don't want to tell Chuck to bugger off, and we weren't really going out but is that just me rationalising things in a way to continue seeing her?

I don't know anymore, and yes I am awake at 4am and I suspect it's not exclusively because of jet lag.