125 ml * 3 * Champagne =

very very tipsy.

hahaha so last night, I met up with two girls from the course and we had drinks at Hakkasan London. It was lovely.

Lovely trying to clean up the blood stains on the carpet. Lovely trying to wash my hair, shave and ultimately, put my face on in a matter of an hour. It was lovely doing all of this after gyming it and burning close to 800 calories.

Sigh.

I've decided that champagne is my new best friend. Cocktails are not only your thighs best friend (meaning my enemy), but champagne, good champagne i.e the likes of laurent perrier, is very low on the cal counts. Ladies, I know 83-100/glass seems alot but compared to 600-1000 for cocktails...yea.

Three glasses, and I was buzzed. Three glasses, and I was set back nearly 40 pounds. 45 with cab. Ugggggggggh. The money BURNS in this city. BURNS.

Anyway, apparently I lost weight. In fact, one of the girls actually mused that I was turning into an anorexic...if only she knew.

Granted, I was wearing heels. But still, it's nice knowing that weight loss is now visible. My recommendation to anyone...go to the gym and just eat vegetables! Seriously, it works wonders and my goodness, my waist has like visibly diminished. My legs toner/leaner etc.

So the conversation went on to the boys in our course, and how immature they all were. With the exception of the frenchmen/irishman (adonis, this lovely well connected french lebanese gentleman whom I shall call Cache, and this other lovely gentle irishman whom I shall call Shamrock), the average mental age for the guys in our course is 5. Maybe 8-10. Immaturity reigns the day, and I swear, all of these guys are under the impression that if any of the girls chat with them, clearly we are in LOVE with them. Fuckkkkk. Is this high school? Grade school? a sand box even?

Prince Akeem is not only a tool, but a stuck up one at that. No need to mention mr. whats-his-face who went all apeshit on me at the end of january...and then there is the Crab, self-involved socially inept oxbridger, who is incapable of talking about anything...that doesn't eventually relate back to him. There's a slew of other really irritating kids, but I'm too lazy.

Of course, there's this petite Taiwanese girl in my class, who I think likes Prince Akeem and has been judgemental of me since the "make out" session in December. Apparently, because I'm wild when I party, that obviously means I shouldn't be the studious, buckling-down, responsible person. Thanks for the claustrophobia Madame, I love being boxed into a stereotype. I don't really care if people judge me, but please, for gods sake, keep it at bay. Don't bring it to my doorstep!!!

I've realized this year, that it's not only hard to trust people, but I should seperate my party animal ways from, well, everyone else in the class/work. I need a good set of folks to party with, a good set of folks to drink with, and a good set of competent folks to work with. So many groups, so little time.

Anyway. I went out for St. Patrick's day last week with Comrade, his sister and his friend...and I'm not sure what to make of this. When the topic got onto my staying here in London, finding a job etc...I get this from Comrade:

"Yea, you need to find something. I really want you to stay here."

Now, if Marilyn were to say this, heck if Angel were to say this, I get it. They're not only good friends, but my female friends. Now...Comrade on the other hand...what to make of this? He has a girlfriend, I know, and I will not interfere and have maintained a good arms-length distance from Comrade, but still.

That was sweet, and was nice, and so many other things...

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. FUCK.

I know I can't say this, but this is the only place I can say this...I think, the more time I spend with Comrade, even as little as it is, I'm falling for him. I really am. First it was him, this his friend the Russian(it's been well over three weeks since I've heard from him, which means he isn't interested), and now...back to Comrade. He is quiet, but dignified. Like an air of intellectualism, but modest/humble...and well, dignified. From the way he dresses to the way he carries himself...it's just classy.

FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK.

UGH

Belle