I’ve been annoyingly busy of late. Which Eton Boy decided to point out to me ever so slightly maliciously after I’d spent the evening of the Cosmo Blog Awards rubbing his face in the fact that I was eating my body weight in Pizza in La Porchetta and he… was not.
‘Not blogging much at the moment though are you………….?’
Alright smart arse.
Yes, I do in fact appreciate the irony that the girl who writes about her crazy life in the West End is having SUCH a crazy life in the West End at the moment that she’s finding it rather tricky to find time to actually report said craziness to the blogosphere.
The thing is (insider info alert) the West End is a horrendous nightmare in the Autumn, purely due to the sheer quantity of STUFF going on. Shows are opening, closing, struggling to survive and just generally creating a lot of work for the theatrically inclined. The hours are long and the post show wine is very necessary, and so it’s natural that something’s gotta give. In this case, it happens to be my social life.
Well fuck that. Ritzi Cortez without a social life is like Harry Potter in contacts.
In theory I’ve made a conscious decision to limit theatre-going to once a week (admittedly, the day I made that decision I also tripped over my own feet in my haste to get my mits on tickets to The Last Of The Duchess in Hampstead but I digress). I will not be the girl who sleeps, then drinks coffee, then goes to work, then goes to the theatre, then drinks wine, then does it all again.
Time to throw a little fabulous back in.
So tonight, I’m donning a naughty Hallowe’en costume, and joining The Guru at The Hospital (it’s a club. Don’t have a cow) for a night of spooky festive fun. And men. And cocktails.
And I’ll be damned if I’m still stuck for something to write about in the morning.
Nicole, my kindred spirit in skinny jeans, had a good read of my blog about her conundrum the other day, and thank you all for the comments re her plight! A couple of days later I received this message from her on facebook:
Nicole is getting some seriously hardcore comments!! The good luck ones are nice lol, but the one that’s made me FURIOUS is the ‘just go and find a single man’ one. AS IF IT’S THAT FUCKING EASY???!! I’ve been looking for 25 years!!!!!!!! Who are these women who can just go out and get a man???? Am starting to think there is something seriously wrong with me. Not kidding.
Cannot BELIEVE the Hobbitt is going around telling people and then not even texting you back. And Short Shorts??! Wtf?! I give up, I really do. Good blogs though. Excellent.
Love you so hard xxxxx
I do feel the need to raise issue with this statement mind you; ‘Am starting to think there is something seriously wrong with me. Not kidding.’
Nicole, my darling; (I say this with love) you are not the first person in the world to get shat on by a bloke, it happens every day and it isn’t because there’s something wrong with you – it’s because there’s something wrong with them… and one in particular – git.
(I would like to take the time to mention that I’m not including any lovely men who read this blog in the above statement! Unless said bloke is a cheating scum bag. You never can tell… *cough* Mark Owen *cough*.)
Let me ask you this though – you read stories about girls/women meeting the loves of their lives and living happily ever after and wish you could be them, but would you ever want to be the leading lady in this story? I know I wouldn’t.
As I know from my own experiences with falling in love with total pricks, there is no way of saying this differently. I know you have to learn it for yourself, so I’m thinking that texting the bastard is actually the way to go. I hope that when you see him again you see him for what he is, but you probably won’t.