out with the old, in with the – er – old… hmmm

No real point to this. Just rambling and getting things off my chest.

The Mechanic has been surpassing even himself in the sweetness stakes. Sickeningly lovely messages. There is a real sense of naivety with him though. Life just seems so much more simple when he talks about it. You know?

He says “come down to my 21st”. I have to rearrange stuff if I go. He simply says that he wants me to be there and it would be the best birthday present ever. All I read is “I am 20 and have no cares in the world”. Over and over. So, fuelled by a couple of pints of Star, I ask what his crowd is like? I mean, think about it. 120 miles is a long way to go, but especially long if it turns out that the girls all hate me because I swanned up one day with my hair straightened locks and London attitude and stole one of their most eligible bachelors from under their noses (even if I only turn his head for a few weeks). That sort of makes me chuckle a bit. I’ve never really felt glamorous or anything before. Similarly, 120 miles is a long way if there isn’t a crowd of friendly guys who’ll happily chat to a random bird and play drinking games. I reminded him: “you’ll be off doing that birthday boy hobnobbing thing that is expected of you, so I’ll need to entertain myself!”

Quick as a flash (well, by country boy standards): “My friends are alright. You probably won’t be able to get rid of me anyway.”

So, no excuse there. The other night he said something about when would we next see each other? I forget my response but he then said “if my bike was sorted, I’d see you in an hour and a half.” Speeding halfway up the country just doesn’t seem to be an issue, whereas for me it sort of is. There’s the hassle of getting the car (ok, so he has a selection to choose from on his driveway, and he’d pick the motorbike anyway). Then there’s the petrol (so, I dunno how expensive it is to fuel a bike but my VTS drinks gallons of petrol). Then there’s the nightmare that is exiting London and the fun that is the Wandsworth one-way system, not to mention Putney and so on (he’d have the fun of trying to get into London). Then there’s the risk of the M3/A303 being snarled up. Don’t want to even think about the rage that would rise in my body if I met a tractor on one of the roads down his neck of the woods… But he just “shrugs” it all off (a text shrug, if you get me).

Why does nothing seem to really bother him? I was getting all worked up about something, I forget what, and he just blew his hair up from off his forehead and calmly went through it step-by-step and blasted all the stress out of it. That is it!! I have worked it out. There is something very ploddy about him. Not in a nasty way. But he seems to take a situation and just work it out. I analyse everything. EVERYthing. The FM story gives buckets of evidence. The Mechanic just takes what comes and rolls with it. He said that he got cross once because a bloke in the pub was giving off about his Dad and his mates had to take him out of the pub and he then put a load of dents in the bonnet of his car, but he doesn’t seem to get riled about anything. He is just a “thoroughly pleasant chap”.

So, what do I do? I won’t be going down there today. I am still in bed for a start. I might rearrange what I have planned on the weekend of the bash and go down then, but I’m not sure I want to. I kinda like it as it is. I dunno if I want to go down there and turn a little fantasy romance into a reality. The more time we’d spend together, the more the shine would come off it. For now, he’s this big hairy bloke who I don’t really know, but who thinks I am pretty awesome. I don’t really want to lose that perception. A weekend down there would add meat to how unsuitable we are for each other and he’d possibly realise that I am a shallow, manipulative bitch. Now it is just nice.

Ooh, but he does have big arms… *swoon* And I don’t usually go for muscles.

I think tonight will see me drop into a couple of houseparties, one in Cla’am and one in Cesspit. Still undecided about FM tomorrow. JC last night (who remembered him from uni) almost fought FM’s corner. He said that at Cambridge, a little bit of confidence goes a long way. Pressed further, he pointed out that it’s full of very gifted, but rather insecure, people. Everyone there is just as intelligent as the next person. It makes you less special. You have to find other ways to stand out from the crowd. JC said that there is a small group of beautiful people and they keep to themselves, and the rest of them are just average looking like you and me. Where you and me would be able to shine through with our quick wit and brains, they’re all quick witted and brainy so they rely on other attributes, and he thinks that FM probably got ahead by being confident and attracting women that way. I said “cocky, you mean?” He disputed it. He doesn’t think FM is cocky, he thinks there is a difference between the two. I am still undecided. FM isn’t a looker in the classic sense, but he has SOMETHING that I like and it makes me really cross. He is an arse. Even when I am with him, I often want to punch him in the face because of some arrogant remark casually dropped into conversation and I look up and see his “aren’t I so cheeky?” grin and he knows it too – he’s trying for a reaction. But he is still my favourite. Damn. If we were all standing in a neutral place and you lined up FM, The Mechanic and Beardy and said to me: “you can have whichever one you want and be guaranteed that there’s no hidden agenda or lying. Pick!” I would go for FM and his weedy little sparrow chest and fluffy hair and little ears and bug eyes. He doesn’t have the long and complicated history that Beardy and I have, or the He-Man “I will protect you but am a gentle giant in private” thing that The Mechanic has got going on. He just snares me mentally. Hate it. Really hate it. I will not see him.

So I’m going to read all of The Mechanic’s texts from last night, lamenting how he wishes I lived nearer to cheer me up.

Happy New Year dudes. I sort of hope that 2008 will be less complicated than 2007. I suspect it won’t. Besides, if it was just think how boring the blog would be.

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