AIM convo with close guy friend from home:
Me: roomie says ‘oh him! i love that kid.’ - aka she misses you
Him: I MISS YOU AND HER!!
Him: why did you ever leave my life!!
Me: you just rocked our night
Best thing ever! just smiles
Ok, a quick update. Soooo… as you all know, this Mr. Rugby did not have a name… until now. So Blondie and I have been debating the best way to find out his name. emails… fake drunken phone calls… texts… a lot was discussed but an email won out. We kept texting…
Feb 11 10:54pm
Mr. Rugby: Hey hows it goin? D footy was bad wigan lost. Wat u up to tonite? A holiday wud b gr8, Wher ru goin? What do u work as?x
Me: Hey! Sorry missed ur msg last nite. hope u had a good wknd. my holiday is in italy. Interview went well - marketing intern. London rocks! Drinks this wk? x
Feb 12 8:00pm
Mr. Rugby: Wkend was good, Wat did u get up to? So ru at uni in london. Just got bk from wigan d longest train journey. Drinks sounds good x
Me: Hey- im in a program thru Imperial. Do u have email? x
Feb 12 11:02pm
Mr. Rugby: hmm dont think iv heard of it. My email is MrRugby@lse.co.uk how come, Ru gonna send me something?x
So… I emailed him… basically saying texting costs a lot. Plus I told him I was free Wednesday and Thursday night…. and all because I wanted to know his first name. So i carefully just said “hey - yadayada etc” and signed it a quick with my name. I did this thinking he’d write back and just sign his name - and then i’d know it.
Well now isnt he a genius. While I am running all over the internet in search of his name at “the prestigous London School of Economics and Political Science”… I am looking for his name. All i have to go on is a first initial and his last name - very helpful- NOT. So anyways i check my email later and guess what - got an email. He FACEBOOKED me!!! Not very many colleges here have it so I was stunned. it was pretty awesome though. and he is hot! thank god lol. I thought he was but i was so out of it that night… I’ll email you some of the pics from his facebook. Of course the one night i didnt bring a camera i wished i had. (by the way, he isn’t from england, he is from Belfast) Oh, and his name? …well i know… but you can know him just as Mr. Rugby. *wink!*
Wednesday night I was all set to work on my paper for international marketing, which is due next week. Roomie was already working hard on hers. Usually, everyone goes to Walkabout for student nights on Wednesdays but from what I’d heard, no one was going out. So I resigned myself to my paper. Then two of my favorite girls from Arizona (met them in London) walk by dressed all cute and sexy… They were planning on going to Walkabout anyway with some of the College Boys. So after a little consideration and a little more tearing through the closets for clothes, I joined them for a little pregaming in the boys’ room. After my vodka and diet coke…. The girls and their other freakishly odd roomie nicknamed ‘Puddy,’ and I all grabbed the Tube for Leicester Square. Puddy was trashed off her ass for the first time in london…We had planned on getting to Walkabout (bar/club atmosphere) early so as to get a table. 9:30 was just not early enough. The College Boys arrived pretty quickly after us. Double screwdrivers all around and the search for the hott boys begins…
So the four of us girls walk around and drag each other to new groups of boys as we seek out the cutest ones. I met one pretty cute one. Spiky hair, intense dark eyes, a decent dancer. wow. I have to say I felt pretty dumb. I asked where he is from (a requirement for the game) and he says “Uganda.” I kinda smiled like ‘riiight.‘ And he gives me a funny look and goes, “Seriously. I’m here for university.” “But isnt Uganda really poor?” (yes i am drunk enough to say that. so i’m thinking: like extreme poverty? “Well, (kinda offended a bit) not all of it is poor. I’m from … (missed it. it was loud there!) … the capital…” Hmmm. my bad. He is obviously one of those less than like 1% of the population there that has some money. So…. snogging for a bit… He asks for my number, and I think I just handed him my phone. So that’s how I learned his name is Alfie. Yep. Alfie. So now… Thats England, Ireland, Uganda for the map… lol
Well… I’ve got to say while we were… umm ’snogging’… the College Boys we came with walked by. Oi! I’m a little embarrassed. I guess because I still have a bit of a crush on one of them. Sure they’ve heard snippets of the stories we all have to tell but I still was not keen on them seeing me makingout with a random guy. I mean come on! I have always been proud of the fact that I am the type of girl you take home to mom. *sigh* I prefer the idea of him not having witnessed the fact that I am just like every other girl in the room. damn.
So I very quickly make my goodbyes to Alfie and search out the girls again. Some 10 minutes into my search this really good-looking guy steps into my path. He is from France. A couple of words later and we’re kissing and I hear a laugh. We are in the middle of the dancefloor and who is towering over us but those boys again! The one I kinda like nudges me as I step back from the Frenchman, “hey, what happened to…?” At this he raises his eyebrows and nods in the direction of where Alfie had been. Wow I thought “my bad.” So, in an attempt to save face I walk away from the buff frenchman without a word to him to search, once again, for the girls.
I walk upstairs. I run into the same really cute guy like 4 times. We smile - it’s too loud to talk a lot - and exchange names. He is James from Ireland. He is blonde, maybe 5′9″, easy smile and built kinda like one of my best friend’s old boyfriends. Sadly, that was all we really got to say. His friends were constantly going one way and I was still searching for my ‘leaving buddy’* for the night. She was over the balconey chatting up some guy named Ryan (well, I thought that is what he said but it was hard to hear). So I went wandering. I just wanted to meet people. You know how you are when you’re waste.
I ended up back on the other side of the upstairs balcony feeling little bored. So I lean against this table because I am just a little tired and a random walks up. He is really fit! (’fit’ here means the same as hot in the states) He has a great jawline and cheekbones, blonde spiky hair, and also built kinda like that ex-boyfriend, only a bit smaller. He is really friendly. We start talking about the bar. He tells me he is on a rugby team (I love rugby!) and lives in London… and this leads to makingout. Of course. Eventually I explained that I had to go home since my interview was the next day.
Well, he wasn’t keen on my going home then or later at 1am, but eventually I made my way downstairs to find if any of my friends were still around. I didn’t want to leave without one of the girls. She had my coat check ticket - for Roomie’s coat. Yes i borrowed her coat, boots, and shirt that goes down-to-there, which is why I got so much attention that night. So I text her. You have to understand I really liked this guy. He told me a number of times through the night that he was having a blast and that I was “gorgeous.” Now what girl doesn’t like to hear that she is gorgeous especially when the guys really sounds like he means it? However, his hands, like every other guy our age, have ‘roaming issues.’ (I’m wearing a skirt) So I decided it was time to head home and chalked him up to another drunk ‘fit’ boy who I’ll never see again. Come on, I don’t make out with boys I expect to see ever again. Just imagine that awkward convo where it’s like ‘hey you again! ummm. so. snogging was fun.‘
So I call my leaving buddy again. My excuse to Mr. Rugby this time was that she and I had to go home together because she has my coat ticket. She can’t really hear me over the phone, and then she texts coming home so now i am really confuded. did she left? secondly, I find that somehow without my knowing he unhooked my bra. ok. now what? i finally leave a full 2hrs after i first told him i had to leave. He was uber insistent that we should go back to his flat. It’s is so difficult to say no when you’ve been drinking. I finally drag myself outside & he and exchange #s and I put my name in his phone book. Well… he never put his name in mine. So…. I don’t know his name…. at all. I don’t think I’ll ever hear from him again. oh well.
So I doubted i’d hear from him again, despite his constant, “what are you doing tomorrow night? Where will you be? We should do something.” I told him to text me. He told me to text him. pshh as if I’m going to text him. nope. So never see this guy again. kinda disappointed but oh well.The next day i get a text while i am with my dad. Hey how are u? Wat did think of last nite, I had a great time. It was our last rugby game of d season yesturday, My legs are killin. Are u doin nething excitn at d weekend? x
Then on friday he texts again Im goin up to wigan2 watch d football wont b back until sunday. Do u live in london? Wud u like to go out for a drink next week? x
I respond I’d luv 2 go 4 drinks ltr this wk. Let me know when ur free - i leave fri 4 holiday. x
To Be Continued… (hopefully!)
*Leaving Buddy = The girl you pick to go home with that night - Basically to make sure that no one goes home alone. except I always went home alone… everyone always forgot me at the bars. Or I guess you could say I always forgot to leave. oops!
I should prolly note here a very important piece of information, which will be important for the following posts…
Currently, there is a map. Initially it was just two girls I believe, but now all 7 of the girls we hang out with are involved. It really isn’t as much of a competition as it is a group effort to hit up as many countries as possible. How it works: We go to all these bars and clubs and always (well, not always) end up making out with these random (or not so random) guys. With all of our travels and with just how multicultural London is…. the boys tend to be from just about all over. The goal is to makeout with as many different countries as possible - each makeout warrants a star on the map. So I had England (FootballM) and Ireland (Mikey) and Roomie had the same countries (Bear and Rory). Between the other 6 girls involved they’ve gotten everything from France to South America… Now, please don’t think we’re sluts. Really we aren’t. Well, makeout sluts i guess. But as Kathryn pointed out, this is one time in our lives we can do whatever and not care about it. At home you give a ‘look’ to a taken boy and everyone across campus knows about it. That’s the problem with such a small college campus. But anyway…
Last.FM
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