2004-02-16..1:55 p.m.

Right. So last week when I went out and got VVVVVVVVVery drunk, I also accidentally shagged inappropriately.

I neglected to mention it last week because it wasn�t so much the HOTT sex either as the drunken and boring. He did try, I�ll give him that much; however there was simply no chemistry at all and I�m not particularly into him and, really, I was just looking to get off. (Drop the double standard, sometimes the vibe just doesn�t cut it)

In any case, about halfway through I give up any illusion that I was having a peachy keen time and spent the rest of the �episode� bouncing around, waiting for my cue to orgasm, thinking You're not Drummer Boy. He's better than all this, he could kick yo' ass. Dude, what do you think you�re doing. Worse, The next morning (I wish I could be kidding, but am SO not), he starts being all affectionate and cuddly and it was really pissing me off because all I wanted to do was sleep and so in the breathiest, huskiest morningafterthenightbefore voice I could muster told him I'm not usually like this, but this morning I have all the powers of affection of a dead cat. And then I rolled over.

You may well think I�m a bitch, but come on. Unsatisfying sex and he wants to *snuggle*? What is he, a girl?

Speaking of which, what the hell is this? I�m far too hung up over the Drummer Boy. I even got post-Drummer Boy bluesy during the Broken Family concert because of one song that reminded me of him playing (dig that drum solo) made me just think about how much I wish he weren�t in New York. And Paul (the Northampton bloke who I met the same night as I meet Drummer Boy) was irritating me too. Bottom line, not Drummer Boy. Want Drummer Boy. Miss Drummer Boy. Won�t tell Drummer Boy because dreadfully impractical.

In general highly unsettled and grumpy, and fucked off because now this week (or rather, since Thursday) guy has been pretty much avoiding me, which is pretty 6th grade of him* seeing as we work in the same building. We usually get on really well, so despite the poor show, I think that I am mature enough to overlook it (re: never speak of it again and pretend it never happened for sake of shared cig breaks) and so should he**.

Moan moan moan. Grumble grumble argh.

On the plus, Wales won in the rugby (why is it always �the rugby� and not just �rugby�? You�d never say, The Leafs won in the hockey. Actually I don�t think you�d say, The Leafs won in hockey, you�d probably just say, The Leafs won the game. And even then we�re talking hypotheticals.) this weekend in a phenomenal trounce over Scotland. A friend of mine postulated last week that Wales� chances as strong contenders for the 6 Nations cup would only be possible if they won their first match, and that was highly unlikely. Well my dear, they have and they are.

Tigermilking at the Betsy Trotswood was fantastic Saturday night! Went with Flatmate Jo and her boy posse who are lovely and always a good laugh. Got talking to one of the DJ�s, Stephano from Italia, who didn�t have any Essex Green or the Loves, but DID play Sleep the Clock Around by Belle and Sebastian!!! My favourite song by my favourite band. (Rash sweeping statement, but Belle and Sebastian possibly my favourite band of all time. They�re just so hoopy and feathersoft happy, but then you listen to the lyrics and realise they mean business. Cynical, conniving, beautifully-balanced esoteric business.) I went positively loopy and was grooving happily along until my poorly foot got mildly trampled and had to pull out whereupon I got talking to a rather hep dude who speaks German, has read James Bond AND is in a band called Nemo! Love love love indie-rock boys.

Getting my hair cut Thursday, huzzah! The shag-mop that currently sits atop my head will soon be replaced by sleekness and style. I'm very excited, though not throw-myself-down-stairs excited.

meep

*not that I was sexually active in 6th grade nor would I recommend it, rather I meant '6th grade' with regard to playground politics and potty tantrums.

**so unrealistic. Let the mocking commence.