Older and olderer

Happy Birthday to the sexiest man alive, Michael Vartan of Alias and Never Been Kissed fame. See, he's so gorgeous he gets a post all for himself. *drools*

Revelations 1:7

Today's post comes after yesterday's and it is therefore a lot earlier than I expected but I have news. Well, I'm not saying it is good news, but it's news all the same.

I've just finished dinner with the guys and we had chilli mince and salad. But this isn't the news.
After dinner, we stayed in the dining hall and a few of us were talking, so how we go onto talking about nakedness and sex eludes me, but I know that K started it. K discussed her disappointment at the fact that her and G did not have a bath together last week. The three guys at the table sat mouths agape, not believing their luck; they were able to talk about sex without the scorn they would normally receive with 'other' girls around.
The guys asked if K had ever done this before. Answer..? Yes.

When she had stayed in the Hilton Hotel last year with two friends Lisa and Lily (names have been changed to protect my identity. hee!) the three of them shared a bath together, "soaping each other" and "comparing the sizes of body parts". Moments later she proceded to divulge how she had kissed one girl and touched "on purpose" other girls' breasts. Two girls to be exact.

K seems to believe she is setting precedent for all girls everywhere and that her existence is but the example of all of mankind. That or she's just compltely ignorant. Right now? I'm yet to decide finally.

Soon after, she announces two things about girls (and because K has said it, it just has to be true).

We're just naked in front of each other all of the time. It's just what we do.

Every girl is slightly homosexual. It's a known fact.

I don't know whether I'm upset that she believes this wholeheartedly or that she encourages others to believe it. I'm not going to say whether this is true or not because I feel like I cannot speak for the whole of womankind on this issue. I'm not worldly enough and cannot prescribe to having the same feelings as such a large consensus of women.

However, if you know someone like this, tell me and I'd be happy to base my assumptions on them...

Speaking of (faux-)romance, here are some lovely songs:

Sia - Breathe Me (buy album)
Toby Lightman - Slippin' (buy album)

I am like the internet. I am not a truck.

I was going to write in this blog yesterday but it wouldn't have been right. I was not in the right frame of mind. My subconscious had painted a scowl on my face and I was grumpy most of the day. Most of this mood was as a result of the internet being broken as the internet is a series of tubes. Isn't that right, Ted?

Since, I wrote on this blog last I can only express the passing of time in oxymoronic terms: a lot has happened and only a little has happened. I've been to London, finished an essay, signed up to be student representative for my course and picked my dissertation topic. These things are menial and don't seem like much but they are. In the next few days I must choose where I would like to go to in the US for my year abroad; this is both daunting and exciting.

My neighbour, the infamous K, maintain her openness and insists on telling me things that could only make me bored or uncomfortable. I have been recently told by a boy friend (not a guy, this one is a boy and is immature in his behaviour, but I digress) that guys do not talk, as assumed, about their personal lives and their sexual escapades. They are much more elusive about their attitudes and behaviour around the opposite sex and keep their thoughts to themselves. I'm assuming these are the nice guys, the male version of "Betty" when you're choosing from Betty and Veronica. But maybe it's harder when you're friends with all the nice guys (and I use 'nice' loosely), so the transition from friend to girlfriend has to be as a result of the realisation of reciprocal feelings, not just an infatuation. But again, I digress.

On the train back from London, I get a call from one of my neighbours asking when I'l be back. I say in a few hours and in the background I can hear the voice of doom. Anyway, K relays a message to the person on the phone, G, to tell me.

G: K said to say she loves you.

I don't when it's the best time to say this message but it sure isn't on the District line. Hesistantly, I reply 'ok' and say I'm getting off the train in a second. Which isn't true because there are about 20 mins between Hammersmith and Victoria, but this lie was ok, right? Because I have no problem sleeping at night. Later when I'm back, with no prompt K meets me at the door in a towel and again insists on helping me from the door to my room, carrying my bag.

Then, in the week she discusses the slow gyrations of sexual intercourse with her boyfriend.There is fine line between knowing your friend and knowing everything about them. If only I could sit her down and draw it for her.

Jarvis Church - Fine Line (buy album)
Jenny Lewis With The Watson Twins - Handle With Care (buy album)

*Songs uploaded onto YouSendIt and should be up for 7 days.

How much is too much?

It has just occured to me that this blog appears somewhat like Ben Elton's film Maybe Baby. Where I am Hugh Laurie's character secretly writing about my friend. Yet, to justify my actions, I must say that it does seem that my life comes without the complications. I have no attachment to her and so I am writing as an outsider, so to speak. An abstract observer.

Also, I must reveal I am not the warmest of people. I don't do big hugs. I'm not all that affectionate and so when the time calls for me to be so, I'm a little reluctant. I've lived in a self-manufacted shell almost all my life.

I've spent my formative years watching people while they lied to, cheated on and betrayed each other so the trust thing, it doesn't come naturally, but I'm trying to act unnaturally, I swear... No, wait, this isn't me. I think I'm channelling Veronica Mars here.

Anyway, K came back again today after the average student extravaganza weekend at her boyfwend's... I'm half asleep but she implores that I go in a talk to her as she has food. Sure, that like a magnet for me, right... cos I'm black?

So I go in and we're eating chocolate fingers and her shopping is sprawled out across the floor. I sit down on the edge of the bed and she reveals what she has perhaps been bursting to tell me, she had unprotected sex and her boyfriend.. you know, inside her, accidentally.
I think I've got quite good at this speechless thing, because I'm just sitting there, glancing around the room, hoping this is the end of the conversation.

What my eyes notice first is the carton of eggs, acting as a table for the contraception leaflet she has and the condoms she got free from the nurse. Really! You just CAN'T make this stuff up. Then she delivers the killer line.

I think I was pregnant this weekend.

Hmmm. Ok.

We'll leave it there for today kids. Have a great week.

Communal activities

One more thing K did...

She asked me to have a bath with her.





















I had no idea what to say to that... What do you say to this? Huh?

Not quite a continuum. It's a bit more ... spaced out.

Saturday morning is just a repeat of the Wednesday, Thursday and Friday previous as I have no class. But sitting at my desk this morning... this week has been more interesting and scary to say the least. In my college, another teacher lives next door to me. I would say she's my neighbour but htis term implies some sort of familiarity and 1. she's hardly ever here and 2. she's ... i don't know. But I'll explain. For my safety, I'll call her K.

After a pretty good football session on Monday, I came back home to take a shower. I could hear that K was in after the racket she was making in her room, her daily ritual of moving her room around. Anyway, I'm out of the shower and walking back past her room to mine. When she opens the door, she's standing in a towel too.

K: At last, I can have my shower.

Me: Oh. Right.

K: Can I be cheeky and ask you for a favour?

Me: ...Depends.

K: Oh, you look so pretty with your glasses off and your hair wet.
Me: Oh. Ok.
(Was I being propositioned?)

K: Can I use your phone to prank my boyfriend so he'll call me back?

(At this point she adjust her towel but she opens it - so i blind myself - and then closes it.)

Me: Let me just get it.

This was the worst for that week. Plus, I've known her for one month. ONE MONTH!

On Tuesday, she wanted to hump my leg (aka dance with me).

Wednesday K said her boyfriend would let her have sex with another girl because another girl could "give her what he couldn't". Then she proceded to ask me if I'd ever fancied another girl.

Friday night, K came back from her bf's only to say that on Thursday she'd had the "best sex of [her] life and [she] almost c***", then asked if we were at the stage where we could "borrow each other knickers" because her Victoria's Secret stuff was in the wash.

Then, she went back to her boyfriend's. And I am free.

In other news:
Grey's Anatomy was great this week and no show makes me cry like this one. Callie and George are done. (Boo hoo!) Addie was awesome as was Cristina, and Burke was a fool. Apparently Isaiah is too but eh! Whatever!

Veronica Mars is hitting an average start this season. I want it to pick up, and hit its stride like I know it can. But it still includes all the LoVe shippy goodness. For now...
Regina Spektor's "Fidelity" was the closing song on the episode.
Go buy the album at Amazon: Begin To Hope

Enjoy your weekend everyone!

Somethings in the way of (me enjoying myself and) things in town

This year I've been set with a pretty sweet timetable. I have one hour of class on a Monday (Early American Literature) and Tuesday I have 5 hours straight, from 1 til 6. After that, I'm free. I've got nothing. Nada. Zilch.

However, this year I signed up to teach English to some Japanese students and so these classes run from 8 until 9 in the evening. It's pretty cool that I managed to get this position and I'm not trying blow smoke up my own a** here but there's got to be something good if I got through the interview.

Anyway, today is Thurday and a tiring one at that. My friend Maryann and I went into town this afternoon and went shopping. Not proper shopping but "bits-and-pieces" shopping. In Whittard's I bought the sweetest tea, it's a strawberries and cream tea and it taste like heaven.
But back to town, we went to get something to eat so ended up eating out at West Cornwall Pasty Co. So its pretty quiet outside and the sun is shining so we got the pasties to take out and we ate at a bench near by. Then things got weird.

First the pigeons and swallows and all the other silent and fast birds were swarming past us. Not quite eagle circling but ... almost. Then some dogs started sniffing around, a bunch of drunkards were waiting for us to leave some leftovers, cyclists sped by, cars drove past, came back and parked in front of our bench. Oy! It's not even a main road.

And this is in Canterbury. Is nothing sacred anymore?

The Opposite of the End

Thus begins this blog.