Don't leave me high

Another week passes with a shameful lack of posts on my part -- not for lack of wanting to update, just struggling for the opportunity.

Tuesday was San's 25th birthday -- don't listen to her, she'll claim it was her 23rd, which is an improvement since she's been 21 every year for the past four years. I gave her one of her birthday presents last Friday night, in a bar after work. She'd been complaining that she needed a new moleskine notebook, so I bought her one and some pencils made from genuine recycled Chinese newspapers. She was suitably pleased.

We had actually been supposed to go to a comedy club last Friday. Because of the time when she stood me up and I spent all night at the Covent Garden comedy club on my own, it had been agreed between us that she would take advantage of the 2-for-1 ticket offer at the Jongleurs comedy club, and take me there to make up for it. Except she kept forgetting to book tickets, and by the time she asked me to do it for her last Thursday it was too late. So instead we went to my favourite bar in Shoreditch and drank imported Portuguese lager, at least I did.

But Tuesday this week was her actual birthday. San had invited her various friends, and it annoyed me that she was sulking about some people not being able to come. I told her it felt a tiny bit insulting to the people that had made it. I bought a sexy new shirt for the occasion, and a super-skinny black tie like an indie rocker. When we arrived at the bar in Covent Garden (the location's geographical similarity to the earlier mentioned comedy club is only a coincidence) and people all arrived San soon stopped sulking.

Even though this is mainly about San's birthday, what matters here instead is my night. I greeted San's close friends that I've known through the years -- they were pleased to see me, and it was nice to see them and it wasn't long before San's friend Jill arrived. I don't think anyone reads this that ever read my diary-x back when Jill featured in it. The whistlestop history of Jill: First she is San's friend. Then she and San both seperately come to the conclusion they are bisexual. San's awakening was helped along by me, fool that I am. I also encouraged her towards Jill, I thought it would be hot. It was not so hot when San cheated on me with Jill. it was not so hot when Jill tried to get San to leave me for her. I sort of resented Jill for a while, without ever having met her. Then I did meet her and felt like I was sort of in love with her, and told San that I admired her strength cos I would have left me for Jill. But I've barely seen her over the years and so the crush has died out.

I wasn't sure what I'd feel when I saw Jill on Tuesday. As it happened, I didn't feel much of anything. Jill was quiet, almost hostile, I think she felt a little bit out of place since she doesn't much know San's other friends and I couldn't think of a single thing to say. I did try and make conversation briefly, but after Jill told me she had been "in a big pit of despair" I figured maybe she just didn't want to talk to me. Strangely enough, Jill became a completely different person later in the evening when her boyfriend arrived -- I think he's a new boyfriend, and maybe she'd just been nervous about seeing him.

During the night I talked to a few of San's friends, and some of her family -- a highlight has to be where I called her younger sister fat, and now she hates me. It's not like it sounds; I think I moved a plate out of her way and she made some comment to me like was I suggesting she was fat. I thought it was a joke, and responded yes, that's exactly what I was saying and that in fact the night was tough love for her, and we'd decided to tell her that. She got stroppy, I realised she thought I was serious and tried to explain but she just brushed me off. I have since emailed her to say I am sorry, I wasn't serious, it was a stupid thing to say and of course I don't think that. But I don't think she's going for it. So that's a whole lot of fun.

There's a picture of me and San together, taken on her 21st birthday. Her real 21st birthday. San is happy -- and slightly tipsy -- and smiling into the camera. My head is on one side, and I'm looking into the camera but not smiling. I don't often smile in pictures, mainly because I don't like having my picture taken. But I know now what the emotion is in my eyes -- San is having a nice time, and I'm pleased she is, but I feel like I'm on the outside. I don't have a problem with it, but I don't feel connected.

I don't remember how much I drank that night, but I didn't ever feel drunk -- there was always a strange coolness, and the drink didn't touch it. As evenings go, it was nice enough for me and San enjoyed herself. Her friends enjoyed themselves, apart from the two who aren't talking and ignored each other all night, but despite this have both reported to San how ghastly it was with the other there. I don't understand girls at all.

San's going out again tomorrow, although she hasn't decided where as yet. I'm going up north for some family thing -- relatives renewing wedding vows or something of the sort. I'm sort of glad that on this quiet Friday night when San is somewhere out drinking cocktails, and my friends have all gone on holiday to Spain together, I have stayed sober, gone swimming.