I am so annoyed at Pete. In fact, I’m so annoyed at him that I’m going to reveal his identity. I said that I called Peter ‘Pete’ because he had a Canadian pin on his rucksack that looked like a Blue Peter badge. Well, he does have a Canadian pin that looks like a Blue Peter badge, but his real name is also Peter. Peter Fucking Hinder. He’s about six foot two inches with wavy hair that’s sandy coloured. He’s got a single freckle on his lower right chin, and he’s got a tattoo of a C-clef made out of vines on his left shoulder blade. He’s twenty four years old. Oh, and I’m totally annoyed with him.
I really thought we had something going. I know it was a weird long distance thing, but it was something. We were Skyping regularly, then he disappears. I hadn’t heard from him since before New Year. I tried to set up a Skype call, and I even emailed to say that I’d leave Skype on all night. That way, he just needed to get to a café, and he could call me anytime.
Nothing, I heard nothing.
So, I figured that maybe the internet cafés were closed during the holidays. I don’t know how these things work in Thailand. Assuming that he was just unable to contact me, I texted S (he’s been staying with her) and asked her to tell him that I called.
She texted me back to say that he’s left Chiang Mai to continue travelling; he’s in India. S talked to him yesterday. Right, so he has time to ring her but not me. I am not stupid; I totally know how this whole travel thing works. Hang out in a city, meet someone, have a holiday romance. For fuck sake, that’s how he and I got together. We were the holiday romance. But now, it’s too much trouble for him to keep it going with me, so he’s found some little tanned cutie with a rucksack and they’re probably going all tantric in India.
But you know what? I’m not the same girl I used to be. I’m not going to get hung up on some guy I met last summer. I’ve got more important things to deal with…like finding a place to live in Dundee.
In fact, I’ve found a flat…I think. It’s a one bed furnished in the West End. (I don’t know anything about Dundee neighbourhoods, but generally ‘West Ends’ are snazzy places to live.) I rang the estate agent to schedule a viewing, and he said they have two others that are similar. He asked if I’d like to see all three.
HP is doing the viewings for me. He’s going over to on Saturday to look at the flats, and he’ll let me know if they’re up to scratch. HP is such an amazing pal, and I so trust his judgement. I feel much better knowing that someone I trust will check out the place before I sign a lease.
Wow, it’s getting all so very real now. Stupid long distance hippy boyfriend is out, and grown-up life is in. I might actually be ready for this job.