Singletondom Sucks

So, today I reserve the right to be a hermit and wallow.

It's a year today that Conan went back to the UK for good and I have been (technically) boyfriendless. And according to Sex And The City, revirginised. Hmm...not too sure how I feel about that!

The strange thing is that at the time, standing at the airport, waving goodbye and watching the plane leave, and explaining to Mum how the pilot was getting into the circuit and all the checks he was doing (!) I didn't cry. Which for anyone who's met me for five minutes knows is a major thing! I'm always crying! I guess I just didn't want to acknowledge it then, but I had a feeling that that was it. I would never see him again. Creepy.

I still miss him terribly though. Although, it's not really him that I miss, rather than the amazing character he created. His ego was right; he was an amazing actor. I guess I now know what it must have been like for Vivien Leigh and Joan Plowright being married to Lawrence Olivier!
He really did create my version of the perfect man though.

And it seems I am one of those pathetic women who actually needs a boyfriend to be happy. However, I claim that I need a boyfriend for my health! As the only time my depression goes away is when I am in an happy relationship! I was initially disgusted with myself for not being a stronger, more independant, who needs a man, woman. But I would rather be pathetic than put up with the scary thing known as depression.

Damn Chris Zampese! It's all his fault. Finding out I was one of four women he was seeing absolutely devestated me and I haven't been the same since. And of course the theatre world is a small one and he's in charge of photos and the programme for Annie, so I had to put up with seeing him and smiling at the camera he was holding on Saturday. Grrr. Really don't need that!

However, after Chris, Conan came along, and poof! Depression gone. Until Nichola. Poof! Depression back.

Is it because men in the theatre world are teased about being gay so much that they have to prove their manhood by seeing as many women as they can at one time? Hence, why I'm swearing off actors. We can't be trusted. But it's men more than women who can't be trusted. No woman I know in the theatre does this. But I can name several men.

So since I found out about Nichola, I have been out with three guys. Two said, not really into a relationship but am really keen to have you as a bonk buddy. The third may have been thinking the same but I don't know. He just wants to be friends, but I have't heard from him in awhile, so who knows. A shame really, coz I quite liked that one.

Now, if I were blonde and pretty and walked around with half my clothes missing, I betcha I wouldn't have this problem. I'm really hating skanky blonde bimbos at the moment, since it seems that this is what men think they want. Elegance, class and grace mean nothing and if you're not a slut they don't want to know ya.

Gee, I wish I could have been around in the 1950s instead. Not just for the decent, well behaved young men, but the only fears one had were communism and nuclear bombs! Now it's gangs, drug fuelled violence, rape, savage dogs, war, terrorism and who knows what else. I don't even feel safe walking from my car to my front door when I get home late at night.
Horrible, horrible world.

Ok, rant over.

You've probably learned more than you ever needed to know about me! My apologies.

There will be a quiz on Friday.