Something like a 1/4 life crisis!
It all started about 10days ago. I was having a horrible, stressful, deadline-filled week and I was pissed off. So I finished my work on the wednesday and felt it would be a very good idea to go get absolutely slaughtered at the infamous UCLU Sports Nite at the union and then Roxy (note: Ultimate Frisbee isn't really the Sports Nite-type so we rarely turn out to the drunken madness of team drinking circles).
So I go out and proceed to lose my legs, I dance with the rowing lot and hang out with cute-but-probably-dickhead guys. Inhibitions are non-existent and that's when I meet Mamun at the bar.
411 on Mamun:
3rd yr guy from Kuwait, cute and stubbly but (OMG!) not much taller than I am. Does War Studies at King's (note: UCL archrival).
So after some intimate dancing he gets my number and I proceed to then swing off a cute TALL rowing guy for a few songs.
Next morning: hangover. But I have a new number in my phone from Mamun asking me on a date.
So I go and have coffee. We chat, I realise we have little in common (well .. music wise, etc) but he's so interesting, well-travelled and exotic. He's also reasonably cute, for a short-arse. He mentions he drinks quite a lot, but I brush it off and decide to play the whole thing off.
But after some more coffee and drink dates later (more me meeting his friends then him meeting any of mine) I realise he drinks a lot. And I hate the drunk Mamun. And what's worse is he seems to be a lot more attached to me then I am to him.
The drink is bad and it borders on lairyness, which I personally can't stand.
So I met him for coffee with the idea of calling it off. I remember how pissed off at him i was after some particularly bad drunken behaviour. But we started this wonderful intellectual conversation about the Saddam verdict and I get all wrapped up again.
And I walk away with a vague sort of promise from him that he'll try to drink less.
Number of days to adulthood (AKA: 21st Bday): 7 and a bit.
Life sorted out?: no, it's in an indecisive scramble.
So I go out and proceed to lose my legs, I dance with the rowing lot and hang out with cute-but-probably-dickhead guys. Inhibitions are non-existent and that's when I meet Mamun at the bar.
411 on Mamun:
3rd yr guy from Kuwait, cute and stubbly but (OMG!) not much taller than I am. Does War Studies at King's (note: UCL archrival).
So after some intimate dancing he gets my number and I proceed to then swing off a cute TALL rowing guy for a few songs.
Next morning: hangover. But I have a new number in my phone from Mamun asking me on a date.
So I go and have coffee. We chat, I realise we have little in common (well .. music wise, etc) but he's so interesting, well-travelled and exotic. He's also reasonably cute, for a short-arse. He mentions he drinks quite a lot, but I brush it off and decide to play the whole thing off.
But after some more coffee and drink dates later (more me meeting his friends then him meeting any of mine) I realise he drinks a lot. And I hate the drunk Mamun. And what's worse is he seems to be a lot more attached to me then I am to him.
The drink is bad and it borders on lairyness, which I personally can't stand.
So I met him for coffee with the idea of calling it off. I remember how pissed off at him i was after some particularly bad drunken behaviour. But we started this wonderful intellectual conversation about the Saddam verdict and I get all wrapped up again.
And I walk away with a vague sort of promise from him that he'll try to drink less.
Number of days to adulthood (AKA: 21st Bday): 7 and a bit.
Life sorted out?: no, it's in an indecisive scramble.