100th Post

I suppose its something to celebrate, and although I've fallen short of last year's word count by a significant amount, I'm still going. Its Sunday afternoon and in ten hours I'm overnight bussing to an airport where we'll catch a few hours of sleep before winging south. Spain is my next stop, I must say its hard to be excited about in an emotional sense. Mentally I am looking forward to it.

I missed him then on Friday, and slowly my self-assurance faded away into pessimism. By the time night fell I was sure I had read things all wrong. Down to G's for dinner and discussion, we ended up through two bottles of wine and down familiar steps to underground madness. Turned into quite the fabulous night, with two hilarious running jokes coming out of it. Transcribed here for my own posterity:

Guy - Do you live here?
G - Yes. I live on this couch. This is my bedroom.
Guy - Um... Really?
G - Yes, you are in my bedroom. Please get out.

And, my guide to getting rid of sleazy men who won't stop touching you on the dance floor, no matter what you say or how evil you look.
Guy - *attempts some come on*
C - I don't think that my boyfriend would appreciate me dancing with another guy
Guy - *continues to attempt come on, doesn't get a hint*
C - Um... go away
Guy - *somehow thinks this means 'please touch me' and does so*
C - *convinced this man is slow in the head* Don't touch me. If you want to lose something this is a good way to go.
Guy - *backs off but forgets twenty minutes later after attempting to pick us up in the toilets, and returns to touch some more*
C - Ok Muffin. What part of 'Fuck Right Off' do you not understand?! I will literally break your shit OFF if you ever touch me again.
Guy - *turns to his friend as if to say, 'what's up with that girl? Jeez' and continues to dance like an idiot, watching G and I to see if we're lesbians and if we were going to make out, because of course that's the ONLY reason to explain why we didn't want to kiss him or his nasty friend*
We didn't.

Surprising about all this was how, despite regular use of the 'my boyfriend' line to discourage unwanted suitors, it was the mouthing of that word that got my mind racing. I actually wanted it to be true, and after his vague comments discouraging me from picking up any Spanish men, I wondered if perhaps that was where things were going.

And since then I've vacillated, between security and insecurity, nonchalant and neurotic. After my early night was interrupted by a long(ish) text message signed with a kiss, I couldn't help myself when the big smile crept across my face. Right now I can't wait to see him again, and luckily for me I get to spend the interim fortnight in the sunshine!

Adios!