Being friends?

Sorry, its boring I know, but another diary post has to be gotten off ones chest...

The big BDay night went well up until the final hour, which saw another argument between me and AnnE. She and DPSyc had come up to the Stol and we were all gunna stay on the floor around a friends house. D still didn’t know that we had been seeing each other – A had said previously that she didn’t want to tell him to avoid any house awkwardness. This was bothering me a bit as it meant we were still not open in the house- she would, for example, scurry out of my hug if she heard D coming down the stairs. Most of my better friends knew about us and I thought this weekend would be a good time for him to find out. Anyway, AnnE had arrived first. I made an effort to look after her, kept an eye out to make sure someone was with her and went over and talked to her if she was on her own. The drink flowed and eventually everyone seemed to be having a good time. I had gone up to the DJ to ask him to play The Killers' Mr Brightside at midnight as my Birthday came in, but at the last second decided to leave it to fate. 10 minutes later everyone is laughing at me as I do a fucked off dance to Maria Carey's version of All I Want For Christmas Is You. A and I suddenly find ourselves alone – D was off somewhere so I grab her and we have a really good kiss. I hug her and everything feels great.

Much like the young guy in the police drama, who is doing his last drugs bust before heading back to Law School to support his young family, it is all too predictable which way it is going to go.

We dance some more and D comes back. I back off and get my drink. The songs pass and I get bored. I eventually ask her if it’s a good time to tell D about us, but she cant hear me. I grab her hand and take her to a corner, but she still cant hear. I take her outside, where she can hear, but doesn’t listen to me and thinks im being jealous like last week* and having a go at her for dancing with D. I explain I only want to be alone with her so we can kiss, but that I also think its time we told D so we wouldn’t have to be secret. Probably 5 or 10 minutes pass, but we are not progressing. The floor seems to shake a little as she says that its over between us.

I protest but shes sure. I ask for a reason. She says that people always split up. She doesn’t want to fight with me and that if we keep going out we will split up and it will be awful. I was so nice to her last week when she was ill that she realised she doesnt want to lose me. She only wants to be my friend as friends can last forever. I tell her that’s stupid and that people do stay together - that people definitely don’t stay together if they break up before they’ve had a chance of going out properly. Shes asks me to name 5 couples who have stayed together and I give her them without missing a beat, but it does no good.

People start leaving the club, walking past us as I try to talk her round. Toast walks past with some friends and gives me a knowing look as we low five goodbyes. D comes out with Meg and C-Unit. I say to them all that me and A have been going out, but that she has just dumped me. I count at lest 4 tumbleweeds blow past. I turn to D and say 'sorry I didn’t tell you sooner'. They suggest we go back to the flat. I go to get my coat and Anne comes too. She says she doesn’t want to lose me as a friend. This hits a nerve and I tell her to fuck off. We get back to the guys and I check my watch, its 2.35 – ten minutes until the last night bus back to my folks’ house. I say im going to get it, and that D and A should go back to Meg’s as planned. I walk off but A follows me. She doesn’t want to leave it like this. As the kebab queues diminish, and the last few drunks leave the street, it goes on and on. She doesn’t give a better reason than not wanting to lose our friendship when we break up further down the line, even when i suggest a few to her. We soon stop communicating. The layers of arguments become so thick that we are barely touching the cake.

Thinking about it now, she is probably right – we have argued or talked about arguing more than we’ve had fun over the last fortnight, and that isn’t really the foundation for a long term relationship. I can see that logically, but in my heart I still want to make things work out. If she really wants to be friends so much she shouldn’t have kept trying to pull me this year when she was drunk and I was seeing the Twin and LEA. Even when we talked soberly about getting together there was no mention of the friends-being-lost problem. Meg asked me the next day if she thought it might be the case that she was only interested when it was secret and exciting. I hadn’t ever thought that, and don’t really now, but the last paragraph, at least, paints that picture.

What is blindingly obvious is that there are other reasons that she is not saying. I would really like to know them, just so I can take them onboard – they might help me out in the future.

The next morning I wake and feel wholly rubbish. I look around my room and recognise my bedroom as the one at my parents house. The memories of the above flood in and I hope it’s a bad dream. I remember walking A back to the flat and then walking about a park in Clifton wondering where it had all gone wrong. Eventually I got a taxi home and had a good chat with the driver about what had gone on. The texts soon start rolling in from around the country from friends wishing me a happy 30th and hoping that I had a good night out. Among them is A saying shes ‘sorry very very sorry’. I pin some hope to this and over the next day and a half we exchange a few texts- me asking if we had really split, her replying that she was sorry. I eventually phone her to ask her if there is any future for us. I need to know. She says that there isn’t after what I said. I don’t remember what I said but she doesn’t want to go back over it.

So here we are again. Dumped twice in 3 months. I had made a resolution last year to make a greater effort with girls, to take more chances, and it has worked well. But its not a nice feeling to get dumped, especially for a shit reason. Everyone said it was a bad idea to go out with a friend and a housemate, and my current hesitation to head back to the flat serves as fairly conclusive proof that everyone was right again. Despite this, under the same circumstances, I think I’d have to do it again – You’ve got to try these things out for yourself.

There are, however, some positives. I only slept 3 hours on Sat night worrying about this. I managed 5 hours last night, and with the definitive closure gained in conversation today my head feels a lot less like a Spectrum trying to load up Vista, so I might well do the 8. I got over LEA – I certainly dont hate her anymore – and ill get over AnnE. I haven’t even cried this time. Maybe we can even be friends. Don’t get me wrong- I will miss the hugs, and id like a better reason off her when I see her, and I really hope she tries to pull me again at some point so I can tell her to fuck off - but it is obviously for the best if she doesn’t want it, so I will get my shit together and move on. I can plan holidays now, ive got some motivation to train hard and I will not have to worry about her or her problems so much. The biggest positive was realising my friends will be there for me. Meg and C unit took me out the next day even though I barely said a word and C was completely open and philosophical on his previous lost loves as I gave him a lift home. JB and Barbie were on the phone to me straight away and Pman made me laugh out loud for 5 minutes with this text (following on from a ‘cheers for coming, I got dumped at end’ - type effort from me);

We both had a brilliant time! Sorry about AnnE but my brief assessment was nice tits, bad attitude so I think you’re better off without. I hope you don’t somehow get back together and end up married now.

The blogTV show, ‘Living with my ex in the same flat’ will begin in the New Year.

Merry Xmas y’all.

*her dancing and flirting with some cocks last week were The Truth - star of the last post.

I have finished...

...downloading and watching Prison Break. Its worth a watch, but is no 24. I have become slightly frustrated by the fact that the writers’ strike in the US has stopped both Prison Break and Heroes in mid series. I always assumed (quite naively, admittedly) that the writers would write the scripts for the whole series before they started filming. The reality seems to be that they write it on the hoof, giving them the flexibility to kill off old, and bring in new characters as the ratings demand.

...all the hard training for the Bath Half Marathon this Sunday. Just a few sprint intervals to do this week and I’m good for another go at getting under the magic 1h30mins.

...giving my first lecture. 10 years ago I was an undergrad in the same lecture hall. Last Weds I was teaching at the front. A nice moment.

...a year of blogging. Probably a month or so more in truth, but I was definitely in Hong Kong this time last year and remember writing about it, so I’ve made it through a whole year. Go me.

...over analysing what is happening / going to happen with the Twin and am just trying to enjoy what does and does not happen. ‘Date’ #4 last weekend of a slowly developing, but at least partially promising ‘relationship’.

...hoping that I will get someone into my room before the end of the month. The flat by the sea has worked out, but at the cost of two weeks with both rents. Thinking back I seem to remember saying that id happily do this if we got to live there so I guess I will get over it. The room mate hunt worked well to get a very promising 'random' into the flat, but has so far been unsuccessful in getting someone to take over my room at H-Bombs.

...laughing at Bristol Rovers 5-1 defeat to West Brom in the FA Cup. Just.

...this post.

The flat by the sea...

I had a 6 month changing moment last night. Psyc had another row with H-Bomb in the week which I overheard the end of as he shouted ‘well I think you probably should as well’ down the phone as I went for my shower at 7.45 am. Far too early to be talking, yet alone shouting. On the back of that he got motivated to flat hunt, with the plan being that he, one of his course mates and me will get a 3 bed flat/house and live without the wrath of the Bomb. He found one that sounded really good- three
double bedrooms, furnished, and was ready to move into as soon as- which was no small achievement in the Plym. Me and Psyc viewed it yesterday, with Helen, the Lettings person, at about 5.15.
The best thing about it is was its literally a stones through from the sea- the views are of gardens and the sea, and I stood on the seafront, as the sun was setting and marvelled at the possibilities of early morning swims, fishing, and balmy summer evening barbeques. Then we went in the flat and it got even better- the living area was 3 times the size of where I am now, and there will be half as many people. There was a decked terrace where my Brazil hammock would make afternoon chill out sessions a dream, and it had 2 power showers, a dishwasher, and a separate dining room with a roof beam to do pull ups on. There was also a single bedroom that I imagined we could either use as a study, or rent out cash-in-hand to some of the visiting PhDs we get at work for a few months a year- this would make it slightly cheaper than H-Bombs abode, with an order of magnitude more advantages. The only problem I could envisage would be deciding who got what rooms; there were two were large but normal doubles, and one that had its own floor, ensuite and separate mini roof terrace. I couldn’t stop smiling as thoughts of summer evening parties, making a herb garden, and renting a huge TV swirled in my head.

Psyc was just as keen. We are very different people, but get on well and have an understanding that I lack with the rest of my current housemates. He was sure that Aro, his Portuguese course mate would be equally thrilled, and set off to give her a lift to show her the area.

This morning Psyc comes down and shows me a text from Aro saying that after sleeping on it she’s not sure about the place, and whether we would like to go and look at a house in a different suburb.

So annoyed!

Shes not even been in there yet! My summer house dreams may be in tatters. Psyc has said he will try to convince her today, or else we could try and get a third person in. I’ve never done that before but it must be fairly easy? I’m so sure I want to live there I would happily pay the extra rent for a month or two until we found someone else.

On the drive home from our viewing I said to Psyc that it feels like something has to go wrong- we surely can’t be this lucky?

Well maybe it has. Aro, who are you and what are you doing?

Bomb Fallout V's Metal Fatigue

So the H-Bomb, that bitch of a so-called landlady, has disconnected the house's Broadband and TV supply from Virgin. This partially explains my lack of posts over the last few weeks and fully explains my lack of watching Dave- the freeview channel that was excellent. You don’t miss these things until they’re gone.

I went to a gig in Liskard last night. A friend is an engineer, and he works with a load of old guys who have a band doing classic rock - occasionally bordering into metal - covers. Their name, Metal Fatigue, is quite simply brilliant on at least three levels. We got a minivan over to the next county and felt like minor celebrities as we talked with the band at the bar while the locals looked on at us whispering 'that’s the lot who've come over from Plymouth, that is'

I've always been one for trying to appreciate new music and bands, and dont own a lot of music that wasn’t released in my era. It’s not because I don’t like AC/DC, Pink Floyd, Led Zeppelin etc, but just because I don’t relate to the people singing it as well as I do to the more up to date bands. With all that said, there was a moment last night when I was stood in the bar, 5 pints of Tribute down and I was struck by what an absolutely brilliant song Wish You Were Here is by The Floyd. Maybe it was the beer, the setting, my emotions or soomething else, but I thought it was purely fantastic. I’ve listened to it about 6 times this morning already and although I've now got the hangover, rather than the enhancement, of fresh alcohol to interpret the words, it makes me think deeply about what they mean to the guy who wrote them, and especially what they mean to me.

The test of time is the hardest of all to overcome.

...which Metal Fatigue's valentine song (to the tune of Slade's 'So here it is Merry Christmas') probably won’t:



Good fun though.

The H-Bomb went off

Looking back now, it feels like the argument was inevitable, but I’m still surprised at its severity. I don’t enjoy conflict with people - I try not to get wound up about anything - but sometimes you have to make a stand. Sometimes you’re forced into a corner by a cold hard bitch and you have to engage just to avoid being bullied.



As soon as we began talking the loose comments piggybacked their way on to the end of an otherwise civilised sentence. The replies contained their own munitions, sometimes hidden in a pause, sometimes on full display, but they all hit their target. Once you’ve set off on this path it’s a slippery slope. Your momentum carries you forward to places you don’t especially want to go. Voices get raised, people are talking over others and neither wants to back down. The noise conveys no meaning but defiance. Any fragment of reserve that was in place at the start has been washed away by the rushing blood and all that remains in its place is instinct. Instinct from ancestors that lived in a wild time, when they had to fight to survive. Soon the insults weren’t camouflaged. They were clear. Rude. Excessive.

A very slippery slope.

My housemate, Psyc, was involved to. He remained calmer than me, despite receiving some heavier flak. I was amazed at how annoying the H-Bomb, my landlady, could be when she went off but I’m still a bit surprised and disappointed in myself for getting so wound up. That said I don’t regret anything I said and think that she deserved it. Some things need to be said.

After 15 minutes, with no progress made, the H-Bomb said,

“Im terminating this meeting, and will be serving eviction notices on you two”

Her fingers were pointing at Psyc and me.

Evicted.