Shit - blog is still here (again)! that last entry sounds dreadful - what a great resource it is to be able to read my thoughts from back then! it was obviously going to take a while to get over D's attempts to humiliate me. I feel very differently now: I understand that going as far as he did shows how much he cared (yeah, its sick but I guess that's how humans are), and I also feel much angrier about people treating other people badly. It is a measure of h0w much I've grown, and got over that trough of low self esteem from 2 years ago that I got up the other day and wrote an email to the guy I'd been seeing for a few weeks and with hardly any concern, sent him a Dear John. Which lay out quite clearly what I thought of his behaviour.

Actually, what he did was hugely funny. We were opposite the entrance to the Ivy, outside the theatre where we'd just seen Guantanamo. As is our wont, me and my friends were discussing the artistic merits of the staging of what were essentially intercut interview scripts, when he, raising him to his full six foot plus height and inclining his head slightly back to as if to give a better trajectory of a stream of gob, shouted at the top of his voice 'it's that fucking little shit in Downing Street you should be talking about'. John said something conciliatory at which he came up close to him and continued at the top of his voice, 'there's obviously nothing between your fucking ears'. There were probably around a hundred people standing outside the theatre and in groups further up the street. There was a couple of seconds after his outburst when there was absolute silence in that part of the West End - it was as if everyone had been turned to stone. It was highly entertaining, and there was a very small part of me which felt rather proud that I had brought this about. There was a much larger part of me which had suddenly found itself on the other side of a large metal door that had slammed down to cut me off from this person who was clearly mentally unstable. Hey - it was exciting when he tied me up and made me faint by pressing on my carotid artery, but that was only becuase I was convinced that it was taking place within the limits of the behaviour of someone who seemed like a pretty nice guy. Suddenly, the 'morbo' had slunk off and disappeared down Southampton Way.