"Where Do We Go (From Here)"

Now, I could rhapsodise on the true brilliance of The Dark Knight, but I haven't really had time to process it all yet. I may have to go back and see it again next week, just to appreciate the whole thing (I did the same with Prince Caspian a few weeks back and found I enjoyed it so much more the second time round). Let's just say right now that it's the film of the year.

So, complete change of tack, let's talk about me.

Yeah. My favourite subect.

So, I'm seeing this woman. Lot older than me. Slightly older than even Alison was. And we work together, which is so fucking awkward it is unbelievable. Because we met up and we shagged. That's the long and the short of it, she came round my house and we immediately got stuck into each other and then nothing. I asked her round a couple of times and she said no. Then she said she'd come round on the Wednesday night. But on Tuesday night, I got this weird text from her about me and my flatmate and how she didn't want to get in between us bickering, which is something we've never really done because the dopey fucker is never here - he much prefers the comfort of his mother's house. And then she didn't come round on Wednesday. I texted her and got no reply. Then I texted her on Friday and still got nothing. So here am I thinking that I'm somehow the most incompetent lover ever and God knows what else. Fuck, I'm paranoid enough without shit like this going down. And so at work on Saturday, a 9 hour shift when there's just the two of us in the shop, well, I don't exactly ignore her, but I'm not overly chatty with her. We walk up the cut and as we sya goodbye, I get the impression that she wants me to invite her in. But I don't, because I'm hurting. She's practically spent theentire week rejecting or ignoring me, so I think, "Fuck it," and I say goodnight, I'll see you on Tuesday, which is our next shift together. She walks off looking pissed. Later on that night, I get a text asking me why I'm giving her the cold shoulder. I reply, telling her the truth, that I feel she's been ignoring me. So she texts back and then through mutual agreement she comes round and we talk, get through a lot of the bullshit that was building up around us and I think, great, things are going to work out. Except they haven't. She was supposed to come round on Wednesday night, but she called it off, because she got invited out for a meal by one of her son's. Fair enough, says I. At least she told me about it. So we agree she's coming round tonight. Except she's not here yet. I texted her about ten minutes ago asking her if she's coming round and she hasn't replied yet. Fuck it.

So we come to the big crux of the issue: Why can't I get involved with someone who is even slightly normal?

Fuck fuck fuckity fuck.

So, instead of a nice evening in with a gorgeous woman and some wine I'm sitting here by myself, contemplating that last third of a tub of Ben & Jerry's ice cream in the freezer, watching Freaky Friday (the Jamie Lee/Lohan iteration, back from when Lindsay Lohan actually seemed like a promising actress and the alky/druggy slut that she was to become the second she turned eighteen was but a blip on the horizon - as Disney family films go, it's one of the better ones) and wondering what the fuck I'm going to do tomorrow when I go into work tomorrow and she's there and we have to spend 9 long hours together.

Christ. Take my advice, never get involved with anyone you work with. It's not worth the hassle.

So. Jamie Lee in a thong. It's not as horrific a prospect as it sounds. Despite her age, she's still quite shaggable. Admittedly, she's not anywhere near the height of her powers like she was in Trading Places or Perfect (one of the worst movies ever made but she looks so hot in it), but thongs in a Disney film? It's just on the interesting side of perverse, kinda like Daryl Hannah in Splash. But I might just watch something a little more... well, something with a little more oomph. I'm pissed off and in need of a movie with action and stuff getting blowed up. It's that sort of night.

Peace out.