I’m feeling very evil Disney queen today. Very Hannibal Lecter. Very Sarah Michelle in Cruel Intentions – basically if you fucking cross me I will castrate you, fry up your testicles and make your mother eat them while you watch, all the while singing Friend Like Me in my best Robin Williams voice.
* Now that was some straight-up David Copperfield shit! *
I don’t know what has brought on this wave of irrational fury. Maybe when I made a list about what I would do if I had a vagina No.7 actually came true: Having a period that would put elephant placenta expulsion to shame, freaking out from the hormones and scratching some miserable bitches eyes out. That’s how it works right, Sissy Spacek?
Or maybe. Just maybe. It has something to do with the fact I had a shit second date followed by coffee with my ex.
The Second Date:
After some delicious drinks and dumplings with Mr. Sheffield, we relocated to a nearby bar in order to refuel. I love a bar with a bit of atmosphere: loud, but not unpleasant music, a raucous crowd and the type of environment that encourages you to lean in that little bit closer. Alas, with three other patrons and minimal privacy save for some dim lighting, the bar he chose left me more exposed than a priest in a playground.
I was however, once again, very impressed with his ability to include words like scopophilic, loquacious and esoteric in general conversation. But after a couple hours I kept wishing he’d swallow a dick instead of a dictionary.
* Lava, stop teaching her these big words before she choke on one. *
When we left the bar I decided we should grab some desert, mostly because I wanted after dinner snacks but also because the best gelato happens to be right around the corner from his house and I needed to use his facilities.
* It’s all part of the plan. *
We got back to his place, which was when things became particularly uncomfortable. He stood while I sat, he didn’t offer me a drink and I had to ask for a tour before finding it so awkward standing shoulder to shoulder in his tiny laundry that I loudly declared it was time to go home. Take the hint!
* I hate the fact that you wore a football jersey to dinner, because I hate football, but you can fuck me if you turn the lights off, okay? *
He walked me to the bus stop. I had to ask for bus money. That’s the end of that.
Lucky for him I’m over my sexy stealing phase.
The hardest part about coffee was trying to look like I’ve spent the last 6 weeks and 2 days listening to Independent Women by Destiny’s Child on repeat while working out.
* First, look gorgeous. Two – then totally suck up to famous authors. *
The conversation was very pleasant if not tinged with a bit of sadness and the realisation of how boring our current lives are. We caught up on friends and family stuff, but I laughed more in that hour than I did across two dates with Mr. Sheffield.
* I like a joke as well as the next fat person! *
You often look back with hindsight and view things a certain way; that your thought process was unemotional. That what you felt at the time was empowerment and confidence. But the overwhelming impression I’m left with is that I miss his friendship and now have to figure out if it’s possible to be friends with an ex. Or if I preempted me being OK with his general presence and decided to have coffee with him because I didn’t cry when I unblocked him from my Facebook news feed.
Ultimately I’m just going to have to decide what I want at the moment. I’m pretty sure on all fronts though that it is not a relationship. At least not right now. Especially when I get 50 shades of crazy at the mere hint of one.
* I just want someone who wants to hang out all the time, thinks I’m the best person in the world, and wants to have sex with only me. *
 Numbers one through seven: 1. Use it for storage (mostly stationary). 2. Make it talk, then stage a domestic between it and my belly button. 3. Give it a fun nickname like Princess Labia or Loose Lipped Lara. 4. Pretend I’m pregnant and spend a couple of hours on my back screaming and crying. 5. Feed it chocolate and then say to it “Look at yourself. You’re a mess!” 6. Be charitable and give my hymen to a good cause (Taylor Swift).
 I had a couple of one-night stands where I stole things like remote controls because I knew it would piss them off and they’d never expect me. The sexy part came about because I’d shimmy while I did it. But then I realised I was technically robbing people. So I stopped.
 Prince Eric and Joseph Gordon-Levitt’s gay love child