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Loads
to talk about. A long telephone chat with The Architect. I went on a date with her in Glasgow once before she got a job in New York. She was on her way to a "movie theatre". Make your mind up. A cinema, in proper English.
She told me a fascinating tale about a man she was sort of seeing when she met me. She borrowed his phone to look at an email, and the crafty bugger didn't log her off. He then read some of my emails to her, and Googled for me. Then he stomped off in a jealous huff. He refuses to admit that he looked through her emails, whilst using information he could only have gleaned from having done so to taunt her.
Feeling pissed chatty afterwards, I rang Kim. I don't know what love is, but she's not having an easy time at all and I felt a physical flowing of affection to her on the phone and yearned to put my arms round her. Is that love? What is love? It seems to mean either, an acceptance of the diminuition of sexual desire as the financial advantages of being able to buy the house you couldn't buy singly increase; or, liking your children and building this into a big thing that has to be rehearsed in the Guardian every Saturday.
But mainly, Vicky. I regret my last sentence though. Sounds a bit matron ooer.
I feel I'm being laughed at, not with, here.
14 comments
I hate “we shall always be friends” from a girl. I used to hear it a LOT. More bleaker words have never been spoken.
Do you have an iPhone 4S? Perhaps you can ask Siri what love is. We, of flesh and blood, cannot answer. Perhaps a machine can.
Spotted the same words.
“we shall always be friends” = a polite way of saying “Piss off and die”
Kim?
The Architect?
Mags?
Do you employ a PA to keep some sort of recored of who is doing waht to whom?
Mixture of *envy* and *unrequited lust*
No, not laughed at, but let down gently I think.
I haven’t got an iPhone, and wouldn’t buy something with a name that mixes cases out of principle. Best that I know where I am early on I suppose, as the F-word rears its ugly head for the nth time.
I don’t keep a PA, I keep a blog instead. But the thing is, I’m not actually doing anything with anyone at the moment.
The Architect is dead nice, even at 3000 miles west. We have decided to keep in touch a bit more on the phone. I didn’t realise how cheap it is to ring the USA from here.
Right I’m off round Kirsty’s to sort her out by doing a bit of humping. She’s having a new freezer delivered.
UPDATE: An email lands from someone else from the dating site who I swoppped a couple of messages with before Mary-Ann burst on the scene and made everyone else’s emails look insipid. No pictures though…
WARNING: No pictures = face like diseased warthog in terminal stage of syphilis
I understand that women in public life might *have* to keep photos hidden for safety reasons. Could well imagine someone would think it funny to print blowups of a profile and post it all round the school playground one night, but there’s a facility where you can keep them private and only let specific people see them. Maybe she just needs to suss me out a bit more.
Oh God what a fag all this is… I much preferred just snogging Vicky down the local.
“The Friend Zone". There’s no going back. At least you got a decent snog out of it. Onward.
well……….as patti might sing:
Love is a banquet on which we feed
but what I want to know is….why…oh why…does one always fancy the one not interested and the one who’s mad for it….one just wants to run away from????
Yes DF, onward. Wouldn’t mind another snog with her though.
YAH: That question is a source of much frustration and regret. But onward, saying “fuck, fuck, fuckity fuck,” as we go :)
Anyway, she doesn’t know the difference between “complement” and “compliment", so it wouldn’t have worked anyway.
I’ve hit 300000 views you know.
I was going to mention her spelling error too.
He reads her emails!! Guy needs to grow up - and if he is upset then.. tough he should…er grow up…
I never read my other halfs stuff - not my place, and I trust her to tell me what I need to know and if I don’t need to know that is just fine with me
We’ve had a slight difference of opinion on this subject in the comments section in the past :)
I’m completely with you on this. Frances went through my phone once after I left it at her house, and that was it, the relationship ended.
Didn’t help I suppose that my phone is mainly full of sexts with Denise, but that still doesn’t excuse it.
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