Retail therapy: bad for the wallet, good for the soul

So basically GBL and I spent one incredible night together. I wore a fitted black dress (so fitted it looked painted on) with diamante heels and gradually through the evening his arm was getting more comfortable around his waist. We had an amazing time, I loved it, I didn't do the typical chick thing and fire 100 questions a minute, I just enjoyed the moment (and so glad I did now).

Two days later I get a call from him, being evasive and talking trivialities. I couldn't bare his tip-toeing any longer and just decided to get to the point in the kindest way possible. So I gently asked him, "What's on your mind?" I don't think he was quite expecting this, but I'm hoping that at this point he realises that I don't act like most girls as I hate to do the norm. He became profusely apologetic and took all the blame for what had happened the night before. He apologised for his behaviour and for leading me on. It DID knock the wind out of me and because of the shock I really couldn't respond, which probably worked to both our favours as I saved him from the potential abuse I could have hurled at him, which would have soured our friendship. Instead I injected humour into the situation and tried to make little quips when I found my voice. I'm guessing at this point he really could not believe his luck that he could have been let off so easily. If I'm to be truly honest at this point it was because I'd left quite a bit of money with him and I didn't want to lose it!

After the phone call had ended, I was incredibly angry and upset. How could he have been sorry for what had happened? I treasured that moment, then he came and p!$ed all over it in spectacular fashion! No, I wouldn't let him do this. I'd make him sorry that he'd done this to me... and so forth. In all honesty, I realised the only thing hurt was my pride. GBL was someone who I had fancied - past tense - but I realised I still liked him as a friend, I really did. The fact that he wanted us to still continue to be friends, for me to not stop calling or talking to him, to not cut him out of my life, hopefully (and I really do mean that because otherwise I'll sound incredibly naive) meant that he felt the same way I did.

I also realised, he wasn't the one I really wanted, and therefore, not a loss to be mourned, but to turn into a friend to treasure. I woke up feeling much better, happier and of course in the mood to leave the house. So I did. However, whether it was down to some sort of deep, repressed anger or sadness, I found that my recently cleared credit card was going to resurface. I found myself walking to the Topshop flagstore on Oxford Street. Now normally I only walk into that place to buy earrings as I never find their clothes to be flattering or reasonably priced. Today, however, I walked in with an open mind and a brand new card, which brought about a brand new respect for the high street giant.

I could not believe that considering it was a Sunday, how comfortable it was to roam around the store and find some little treasures tucked away in the racks, how their bags were actually truly elegant and how their silky mini skirts looked so feminine. As I passed the Fairtrade section of the store my eye caught the sight of something truly brilliant. In the t-shirt section was the perfect garment that should be used as a 'pick-me-up' for all girls whose hearts have been broken, whose self-confidence has taken a hit, or who in general want to show their sentiments to the world. The t-shirt read "I recycle boys". It was love at first sight. That was the last item I put in my basket, and I think the best buy of the lot (I got a silk, mini skirt from the Kate Moss selection which puts it in a close second as everyone knows you need to be tiny to fit into that stuff - ego boost points galore with that one!). When I got to the counter, I realised that my poor little account was going to take quite a beating for this unscheduled bit of retail therapy, but I walked the high streets of London (and Soho) feeling incredibly proud and empowered. I knew that tomorrow I was going to wear this t-shirt proudly to university, to my meeting with my supervisor and of course through the streets of London.

If there is one thing I believe a girl must have in her wardrobe, it must be an attitude enhancing garment or confidence boosting one - ladies, I believe I've found mine!

PS. I'm posting that picture on my facebook profile... let's hope he has as much of a sense of humour as I do.

Looking up for directions

There are times when you sit on your own and you just feel isolated. You picture what the outside world looks like. It hasn't been that long since you last went out, but because you haven't been out regularly or have had that habitual contact with the same people, everything becomes a blur and does not count.

I never thought it would happen to me, but I've reached a point where everything is repetitive. It's scary when you finally understand just what American Psycho (the BOOK) was all about. The repetition, the people, the faces, the rituals... everything becomes routine. You try to break away and yet the thing you do to take a break become the same thing. I used to think walking from Wardour Street to Liverpool Street station was a nice break, listening to the music on my iPod, possibly snapping a few pictures on my camera. But things have become the same. It's scary how you realise that your life has a routine that you thought you were once happy with, but now become lifeless in.

I sit here going through my mobile, looking through the numbers, and with each name I come across there is an excuse not to phone them. They'll be too busy. They will wonder what I want. They'll be asleep at this time of the night. They won't be in the country. Then you realise that you don't want conversation, but just to listen to someone else's voice, because you're tired of hearing your own. It is your voice inside your head and you just want to open it up to someone else, listen to another person. The one or two people you try to reach out to are not available, and that's when it hits you... just how alone you really are.

I am still not sure how to take that. I.am.alone. I'm not sure if that is a bad or a good thing. Is it bad that I don't feel particularly affected by it? Is it good that I feel indifferent to it? Should I be depressed that I'm this apathetic to it all? Should I end it all? Jump off a building and see what happens? Whether I'll hit the ground or fly?

"God gave me style and grace,
"God put a smile upon my face."

I don't know what my goal is in life anymore. I lack true inspiration and I wonder if it has dried up. When I was fighting for my dreams I needed release and wrote. Now, I sit here and wonder, just what happens next? Will I ever snap out of it? Or am I just going to drift along?

I'm not looking for someone to save me, I'm looking for...