Choosy lesbians choose Iceland

Just now home. Decided to take the late afternoon train instead of the sleeper. Candy and HP are in the lounge playing a new game she got her hands on from work. Oh, and Katie is no where to be found. So despite me dragging a suitcase full of her shit across the country, she didn’t keep up her end of the bargain and be a proper cocki-blocker.

I texted Katie to find out where she was and this was the response:

Me: Where the fuck are you? You had a job to do.
Katie: Did you bring me my stuff from home?
Me: Yes, but why aren’t you here?
Katie: Because those two are boring and I went out.
Me: Who are you out with? You don’t know anyone.
Katie: None of your business.
Me: Did you stay with them at all?
Katie: For part of the day on Saturday. But they are soooooo boring. Total losers. Not into gaming.

God that girl does my head in. Now I can’t be sure that nothing happened between them, but at the moment they are so engrossed in that game I’m not picking up on any vibes between them. Unless they’re good at hiding it. God. What is going on.

Right, to get my mind off this, I’ll get you caught up on my weekend:

Saturday was spent with mum getting all the forms signed and all our paperwork sorted. And I spent Sunday with Donna and her partner. It was exactly the weekend I needed. Saturday mum kept my mind off things with her drama, and Sunday was spent with wine and tapas (Donna’s girlfriend is an amazing, actually an A-MAY-ZING, cook).

We talked about life in London, how it’s hard when you’re not making loads of money, but it’s still really a great place to live. There’s so much free stuff to do, and they said it’s the sort of place where someone’s always up for a day in the park (good weather) or an Iceland dinner party (where it’s a cheap dinner party with all the food bought from Iceland, as Donna said, ‘Choosy lesbians choose Iceland.’)

I was kind of sad that I the relocation to London never panned out. Yeah, I was totally stressed about it at first but then the more I thought about it, the more I wanted to move. Then again, there was no way I could get HP to come with me, and obviously I couldn’t leave him behind. We wouldn’t have lasted a long-distance relationship, we’re barely lasting a no-distance relationship.

Donna is my best friend and I knew she would be honest about HP and I. She said that on one hand, she didn’t think that HP is the type to cheat. He is different from all the other shits I date. Then again, she added, ‘You do pick absolutely douche-bags. Maybe he’s just been a douche-bad in hiding.’

I don’t know.

Donna also has this wonderful ability to be as frank and honest as possible without even realising it can be rude. Since I had meetings in London on Monday morning, I decided to stay with Donna and her girlfriend that night, so they called some mates around for wine and nibbles. The last guest had left and I realised how content I felt. It had been a long time since I enjoyed a relaxed night of casual conversation with friends. I miss having friends that can just pop around at any time. Lately I’ve been feeling quite alone in Dundee.

I said this to Donna and here’s her response, ‘If you’re feeling this way then so is [HP]. That’s probably why he’s hanging out with [Candy]. He just wants to get out and meet some new people. It’s not his fault you don’t want to be a part of it.’

It hurt, but it was the truth.

Then she added, ‘You’ve been in yoga pants and looking pretty scruffy all day. If you look like this all the time, maybe that’s why he’s lost interest.’

I was quite taken back. ‘What does my appearance have anything to do with it? I shouldn’t have to doll myself up for a man. I thought, of all people, you’d agree with me…’

‘It has nothing to do with him being a man. You should always make some sort of effort for the person you love. Yes, there are days I will bum around looking horribly scruffy, but how would Mandy feel if I acted that way everyday? She’d think I didn’t care.’

God, I hate when Donna’s right. I really should go out there and try to show some interest. And maybe I should run a brush through my hair first.

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