16 January (part 2)
I stay in. Great. Bridget Jones’ Diary is on the TV.
Watch a bit of Celebrity Big Brother. Have binge and a purge. Damn. I didn’t want this to happen. Well, it hardly does these days. And I’ve been so good. I hope it’s going to be a blip. Keeping to the low GI plan is definitely helping.
The film makes me think about my ex. A barrister. The stiff one who wanted to marry me and looks exactly like Colin Firth. About my ongoing disaster of a love life. And then, inevitably, The Entrepreneur. He is not unlike Grant. Even the clothes and hair. Not as hot. But about a foot taller, thank God. The time I was convinced he would get back in touch again has been and gone big time. Maybe Claudia was right. It was a drunken text at most. Here’s me obsessing over its significance.
Go Bridget. When Hugh Grant’s character is lying in the snow asking her back.
‘If I can’t make it with you, I can’t make it with anyone,’ he says.
Is that how E thinks about me? I really hope so. But still. He hasn’t been in touch again so hardly likely.
She tells it to him. This is how I need to think too.
‘That’s not a good enough offer for me. I’m not willing to gamble my whole life on someone who’s… well not quite sure. It’s like you said. I’m looking for something that’s… more extraordinary than that.’
16 January (part 1)
The night of another date that wasn’t.
I’m supposed to be going out with this guy I met on the site for the rich and goodlooking. My antennai shot up when he wanted to change the date to tonight instead of Friday because he had to go to Spain for work. As he gave me a few days notice I accommodated.
He suggested 6.30pm at The Crazy Bear Goodge Street. Strange time. Didn’t sit well with me but, again, I’ll go with it. Maybe he wants to start early to spend more time getting to know me.
He confirmed at 3.30pm. Good lad. I still haven’t spoken to him though.
But this has just come in.
‘Excellent – see you there. I have to leave by 10pm to let friends into my flat – just so you don’t think I’m running off early! x’
I debate a response for… a whole 30 seconds.
‘That doesnt work for me. Im going to give it a miss.’
‘Are you sure? I told them I’d be back by 11 to let them in – apologies didn’t mean to mess things around. I’d still love to meet? x’
At least he recognised he’s messing me, or as he says ‘ things’, around. Twice now and we have even met. And why on earth would he arrange to leave a date at 10pm? So much for wanting to spend extra time getting to know me. I think he knew well in advance he was going to do this hence the early start time. It’s very likely he’s meeting another girl too. Ooh, just so much wrong with all of this. Beware. Remember Jewish?
He then calls. OMG. Nail in the coffin. A really unattractive northern accent. You know I LIKE accents. This is an apologetic, weak voice that happens to have a northern accent. Of course, I don’t answer. He leaves a message. He still wants to meet if not tonight another time. I’m sure he does. Well, I don’t. Messer. Selfish. I wasn’t really interested to start with…
15 January
I meet Jessica after work. We are supposed to be going to the cinema. We were originally supposed to be going out on the Southbank but she can’t be bothered. I can’t either so am secretly relieved.
A repeat of the cinema-gate incident with Sean last year ensues. And some. I’m at the ‘wrong’ one. Jeepers. There are two Odeon’s in Chelsea guys! She is at the ‘right’ one but it’s closed. Closed! We go for drinks at The Bluebird instead.
We sit at the bar. It’s cool in here. My new discovery is vodka and slimline tonic which I test drive tonight. Only 50 calories! Woo-hoo!
‘I don’t think you’ve ever given him the idea you are interested!’ she says when I tell her about the latest with Charlie.
‘Why can’t he just hang back?’ I ask about the other man in my life. I show her Sean’s message.
‘It’s because you mean so much to him.’
‘I just want some away from him.’
We then update on other news.
‘I’ve got a second interview at that agency!’ I tell her. The one I want to get, on principle, as Conor wants a job there.
‘That would be so good.’
‘I know. There are two gyms round there aren’t there.’ It’s near her work.
‘Yes.’
‘When do you have time to go? I don’t know how people fit it in with work!’
‘Weekend and evenings.’
‘I know that! It’s just this job is already taking it out of me.’
She smiles.
‘I need to work a four day week. I need three days to wind down.’
‘Poor R. You’re so delicate.’
‘I am!’
‘I told Conor about the black on his teeth.’
‘How did you tell him?’
‘When we were shopping. I saw it and told him he needs to go to a hygienist.’
‘Do you think he will?’
‘Maybe. It’s on his radar.’
‘He doesn’t care.’
‘He wants people to be interested in him. In a way that’s good,’ I say.
‘You’re on the opposite end of the spectrum… but he needs to know that girls don’t like dirt.’
I laugh.
‘I’m looking older,’ I say. Needing some reassurance.
Jessica looks at me intensely.
‘You will monitor me won’t you?’ I ask.
‘Ye-e-e-es.’
‘I look older. I’ve aged this year.’
‘No more than any other year.’ Wrong answer Jessica. She picks up my subliminal message.
‘You don’t look 16 now. More like… 21.’
‘Hmmm.’
‘You look hot.’
‘Do you like my gilet?’ I ask. Changing the subject. Secretly thinking maybe I could investigate options for having a facelift.
‘Yes. I was going to say… where did you get it?’
‘Asos.’
Thinking about the cultural night out that wasn’t I remember that last date I had with The Possible One.
‘That guy I went out hasn’t logged on since before the date.’
‘I think he met someone.’
‘I don’t.’
‘Maybe something has happened to him then!’
Trapped under the same rock as all of Claudia’s men.
14 January (part 3)
‘Hi, am really worried now. You are a very important person to me and i’m really concerned that we are not communicating. Hope you are okay, be nice to catch up – sunday? X’
Maybe you shouldn’t take your friends for granted then? Maybe you shouldn’t be rude to them? Of course I don’t say that. I cop out.
‘Im watching a very imp prog about dieting – i know! I think im going over to ricky sunday.’
14 January (part 2)
Sean is pissing me off. I’ve talked about this before. The latest is he sent out a group invitation to his birthday. On it is this guy – a friend of his – I slept with years ago. Let’s just say, he left a traumatic souvenir behind, not forgetting didn’t want to know after he’d got what he wanted. Aside from his 30th, Sean has never invited me out to his birthday. I think that’s rude in itself. I would prioritise him over someone in my group who had treated him like shit. We don’t speak about it. But this one is the last straw.
He sent a message earlier in the week referencing the group invitation. He called it a ‘stupendous gaff’ and that he had ‘uninvited the person’. That makes me seem like a loser whatever way you look at it. Did I ask him to uninvite him? Am I still bitter? Am I hung up about it this many years later? What if he doesn’t realise he is uninvited and turns up? I told him I couldn’t make it and wasn’t comfortable him uninviting people. How could Sean even make a mistake like that?
He’s just called. I’m watching The Big Fat Diet Programme. And I don’t want to talk to him. So I don’t pick up. He leaves a message. Something about how he hopes I’m not ‘hurt’. All a bit American if you ask me. Then. Then he follows with a text.
14 January (part 1)
Shit. I wasn’t expecting this. Today.
‘Hey rebecca,how was t weddin last wkend?snowy?lol.r u still up4hangin out this sat afternoon?let me know ur plans…itd be cool2 c u.xx’
No I’m fucking not up for it! And, no. Didn’t go to the wedding. Had a rage incident due to cancellations, snow, morons working at London Transport plus a monumental period. The guy I’m supposed to meeting tonight has asked to change this to Saturday as he has ‘to work’ in Spain. Working for a nutty bitch at her agency next door to my flat. I thought I’d seen it all. But this was actually has some kind of full on personality disorder. Seriously. Thank God I’ve got an interview at another agency on Tuesday.say this to Charlie. I know what I’ll do. He won’t be around.
Sorry crazy being at work! Cant make tom now but out in south bank tonight. Come!x’
‘Hey rebecca, yeh im busy at wrk also.i cant get down2nite im afraid-got a family meal.that sucks ur busy tmrw… ill give u call wen im up-we shud def hang out.xx’
Bingo!
9 January
‘Hey rebecca,enjoy ur weddin2day-did u get there ok?i wud say give me a call if u have ne probs.bt im not in ox2day…nxt wkend sounds awedsome,iv got a party on sat nite-how do drinks in t afternoon sound?we can hang out all afternoon if u fancy…xx’
Like water off a duck’s back. Charlie you pratt. All afternoon long, eh? What an offer. Hee hee. And thanks for inviting me to the party. I’m going to have to blow him out. He’s just not getting it. Literally.
8 January
‘Hey! Have a wedding tomorrow in Cotswolds tom which will be hell in snow i think! Cool. Have a date friday so free on sat. Must def go out!xx’
Yes Charlie. Note ‘go out’.
7 January
‘Hey rebecca, thx 4t linkedin recommendation,that was really gd of u.how r u doin?lovin t snow?im up in london nxt wkend-we shud meet up if ur free… drinks?xx’
4 January
‘Not… matey boy?’ Daniel gasps when I ask him who he thinks got in contact with me. I give him a clue repeating Sean’s Bobby Ewing comment.
‘Yes!’
‘Did you ask for your wallet back?’
‘No!’ I laugh.
‘You got him a wallet for Christmas didn’t you?’
‘Yes.’
‘You see. I remember.’
I smile.
‘You didn’t… reply did you?’
‘Yes. Just “Merry Christmas.”
‘He’s a prick.’
‘I didn’t want him to think… I’m bitter. That he got to me.’
‘Well… you’re a better person than me. I’d have… well, what do I know…’.
‘No! You’re always right.’
‘He just wanted see if he could get a girl round.’
‘Oh! I think he was feeling sorry for himself. When you’re single at Christmas you do start thinking.’
‘Why didn’t he do it the day before or the day after?’
‘It was his last chance to get in touch.’
‘Preying on people when they’re vulnerable.’
‘I think he’s going to get in touch again.’
‘You’re not going to…?’
‘No!’ I say before he finishes the end of his sentence. Lying.
About
‘When I grow up I’m going to marry a prince, Granny.’
Fast forward 27 years. I’m a hot, successful, kind and affectionate, officially ‘grown up’ girl-about-town. Still in search of The One. It’s New Year’s Eve and I’m in bed. Alone. Tanked up on Valium.
The quest has been active now for the best part of 20 years. I know he’s out there. I just need to find out where and how to find him. Things have got to change.
2009 is going to be my year. I just know it. So I have decided to document my experiences to amuse more than anything else. In so doing, the creative process may provide some kind of personal enlightenment and help face my demons too. And who knows. The journey may lead me to my prince. And where the chronicles begin.
