Amazing bullshit.

Oh what a waste of a weekend! What should have been a glorious weekend ended up such a disappointment. Well, at least I caught up with my DVDs backlog (“Fish Tank” – no, thanks; “Adventureland” – yes, please; “Alice In Wonderland” – watched in a completely sold-out IMAX – hmm okay but worth it just because of gorgeous, gorgeous Johnny Depp!)

Friday night’s dinner in Carluccio’s – always good, but kinda tiring when you end up talking about men, yet again. Dancing in Movida was non-existent and Jess and I left at 1AM. At about 2AM Jess jumped on a bus, which drove her to North London, while I was waiting for a taxi outside Punk. Highly disappointed in the evening at that stage but boy wasn’t I looking forward to the night with DB (who claimed to be “soooo tired” and just sent a taxi to collect me from the club).

Surprise, surprise, DB had a party of his own, of which I knew nothing prior to entering his flat. Champagne, drugs, scantily-clad girls in sky-high heels, you get the picture. By the end of Friday night DB asked two different girls to give him a hand job. I know, what a dickhead. We were then at a house-party hosted by two Canadian brothers (one of them was very cute and the other one extremely helpful – both of them highly compatible with me according to our horoscopes) – that would explain my premonition dream about Canada. Weird, right? So the extremely helpful one took me to his room and asked: “Why do you let him treat you like that?” Why, my point exactly. Apparently, DB claimed that I was his girlfriend (oh yeah, who would have known! But at that stage I was not excited at all about the possibility of being his girlfriend.) He claimed that he could have me anytime and encouraged boys to flirt with me so that I would not get bored while he was pursuing hand jobs. Amazing bullshit.

Anyway, long story short, it was 8AM on Saturday morning when DB and I returned to his flat. I was thinking of collecting my bag and swiftly escaping. He did not let me go; he literally squeezed me in his arms and blamed everything of drugs and alcohol and exhaustion, he was begging me for forgiveness (“You have to forgive me!” – reminded me of Carrie pledging Aiden to forgive her when she confessed she had been cheating on him with Big. I laughed.)

At some point I escaped.

To end this blog on a positive note, I finally received pink American Apparel Legalize gay t-shirt. And this is what I am planning to do tonight: wear it, eat crisps with hot salsa sauce and then green tea with profiteroles and watch “New Moon” and then maybe start on “Sex and The City” Season 3 until I fall asleep, teeth un-brushed.



Okay, kidding. I will brush my teeth.