After a day of resting my poor foot Andrew and I decided to go to Hollywood. Not particularly searching for a party but interested by the prospect. We met my friend Samantha and her super cute actor friend for dinner.
Hollywood seemed unreasonably quiet after the VMA’s last night. The Chateau looked busy, Sunset Tower was rockin’. The SHLA just right. I have no idea where everyone was…but where ever they were I wasn’t with them.
We did, however, bump into Adele with whom I was uncharacteristically star struck.
She was surrounded by burly security men and has a booming, luxurious speaking voice, a huge presence. Like a tiny field mouse I told her how wonderful she was and she in turn asked if I had any Marlborough Lights.
My briefest brush with Adele.
Now, I am kinda sick of being told that I am name-dropping every time I tell you who I meet or bump into. It’s Hollywood! The town is packed with names. I am a small town British boy who, at those moments, wonders how he ever gets to have so much fun.
Whenever I tell you about who I meet it’s not to self aggrandize. I thought you might be interested? No?
I saw this: a very drunk woman wearing Christian Louboutin shoes being hauled into a limousine by her uniformed driver.
Vomiting over the very same shoes that would have paid most of my utilities for a whole month.
The driver looked understandably perplexed.
There seems to be some confusion about my state of mind at present. Just to clear things up: Despite my imminent trip to NYC to see Jake in court I am actually very content, happy even. Part of that happiness comes from being at peace with the idea that…I am unlikely to ever have another relationship. Ever.
Why? Because I am impossible…that’s why.
That doesn’t mean I want to have a million hook ups…I don’t. Let’s face it..I have always loved the fantasy more than the reality. A real person by my side? I can’t do it.
I know lots of straight batchelors my age.
As I said the last time I wrote my blog, having a boy friend would be like working in an office. Do you know what I mean? I am not that guy. Unemployable maybe? Probably. Unloveable? Well, probably not…but incapable of having a relationship. Incapable of accepting love.
I am listening to Adele. Remembering what it felt to be in love. Thank God that’s over. Like sticking your hand in the fire.
When I was a kid my Grandmother and I found a diamond brooch. She handed it to the police. All my life I couldn’t understand why she did that. Now I do.
Meeting Jake was like finding that diamond brooch in the street. It wasn’t mine to have yet I did not want to give it up. It was beautiful and sparkled in the night. But what’s a man to do with such a thing? I couldn’t wear it. I had to give it back. Unwillingly.
So, I am happy. Can you understand that? I don’t think you can.