Something exciting (and vaguely alarming) has happened. Joe gave me a ring yesterday (not that kind, it's only been a month!) to tell me that he in fact had something planned. As in, a magical, mystery, actually executed plan, with STAGES, missions and clues. How amazing! I find myself both highly intrigued (and a little turned on, to be honest) at the thought of what he has up his sleeve. So far, he has revealed nothing, apart from these 4 pinpoints:
If pulled off, this will be a spectacular surprise. If one thing goes wrong, the whole thing will be completely ruined
Phases 1 + 2 out of 3 have already been confirmed
It is apparently something I have mentioned in passing, that I really want to do.
I must meet him at a certain location at 5:20 on Friday, and give him a strawberry lollipop. It is supposedly IMPERATIVE that the lollipop is red and strawberry, and I must NOT FORGET IT. The whole mission will fall apart if I don't bring it, apparently
Isn't that BAFFLING??! I've spent literally all day trying to figure out what the lollipop is for. He did say he had to "call in a few favours" - maybe it is payment for a mate. Maybe we need it to placate a small child? Or - *gulp* - maybe it's a secret signal, like the one given by Judas Iscariot. Maybe there's a sniper waiting on a nearby roof, and this is his unsubtle way of dumping, kidnapping or executing me! Shit.....
Nothing from real life to report - I went bowling last night with Anne and some college friends I've not seen for years, which was cool. Bit boring after a while when we ran out of things to talk about, and reverted to exclaiming over our terrible/brilliant bowling skills. I spent 10 minutes excitedly ranting to Anne about Joe, only for her, out of nowhere, to tell me she'd been dumped. Oops. Apparently he thought "it wasn't going anywhere." After only 3 months? Do me a favour. He must've found someone else, the knob.
Afterwards, on a sheer whim, I rang Joe and asked for a lift home - even though I could've rang Mum - just to see him and offload. God knows why, but he agreed to, and drove out to meet me. Didn't quite fancy going home yet, so we stopped at a pub on the way. We nursed our pints and ended up in an in-depth conversation about our significant exes, what cunts they were, exactly what they did and what happened to us to have truly earned the title "broken-hearted" in the past. Strangely, it was rather nice. I mean, I felt like crying (at both of our tales) but somehow, through telling this story, it felt like he trusted me. The feeling was mutual, anyway. God, I don't half get talkative when I'm infatuated.
Oh, and the excellent news is my cystitis has finally gone. Thank fuck for that - never mind the agonising pain and embarrassing infection, I would rather eat my own kneecap than drink that soluble sachet shite again.
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Current Mood: knackered, for a change
Current Music: "The Day we caught the Train" - Ocean Colour Scene
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