Headache or Heartache?

Seriously. What kind of man would get stupid drunk with a girl and still not make a move? Gay Nick Stampfer, that's who.

Several pints into the evening he did successfully recite backwards the royal secession from Elizabeth II to Alfred the Great, yet he didn't so much as kiss me on the cheek.

So why didn’t I just kiss him? I’m certainly not the prim old-fashioned girl who won’t make a move. And the sad answer must be I must not have wanted it on some core level. Because after five pints on an empty stomach, if I’d ever thought for a minute about wanting it it I would have gone for it.

As it was, I got no action and a hangover like I haven’t seen the likes of in ten years. So bad I took off work today – granted, not the best situation, considering the state of things there since the announcement last week, but oh well.

And so it was just this afternoon as I lay in bed staring at the cracks in the ceiling plaster that Stephen called me. I can’t account for why I picked up this time any more than I can account for why nothing happened last night with Nick.

"I miss you," he said. Followed by words I didn’t realize I’d been waiting for months to hear, together and in the right order.

"I am so sorry."

But remember the context, Claire. He only called once he found out about Julie and Alan. He’s getting some of his own and he deserves to wallow in it for a while. Remember Claire, he picked Julie over you.

Which begs the question, which is the better option? The man you can't trust anymore or the one who won't even touch you?

For those of you keeping score, monk-like chastity edges out infidelity by a nose. A tiny little cold wet mouse nose.

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Nine Rooms updates every Tuesday - Gina - Nick - Claire - Alan - Joey

Mon Dieu

So the football match was...well okay, it was fantastic. I don’t know, Nick was SO much better! Maybe getting away from the responsibilities of the house is just what he needed (needs more of?...). It was like, that sparkle that I saw when we had dinner those weeks ago came back to the fore. He even dressed the part! (which makes me wonder, if he knows how to dress, which he clearly does, then doesn’t that mean he’s dressing intentionally bad the rest of the time? And is dressing intentionally bad better or worse than dressing unknowingly bad? And, am I or am I not unconventionally shallow?)

I kept nudging him, asking him questions about football, which I confess here – I knew most of the answers to already! - (my dad coached my football team when I was young, before I discovered art and kissed boydom goodbye). I was trying to coax Nick into putting an arm around me, holding my hand, something. He didn’t pick up. Or know all that much about football, as it turns out. (Not that I minded, I went along - he was too adorable, getting off on telling me all the rules, right or wrong, proud like he knew more than me – oh stop it, you know you do it too. If male stupidity wasn't adorable it would be the end of civilization.)

And it seems to me, now more than ever, that the true champions are honestly the ones who can make the best of things that come along and don’t dream their lives away.

Anyway. Blogging from work this morning so better keep it short before the boss gets back from coffee break. This morning’s big news was the French company Tele Matin is buying out TV Wow. They aren't saying anyone is in or out, but we all know enough not to dream ahead. Lisette (copy girl) is already on her way to fashion school.

I don’t know how to react. Honestly? I don't care. I was certainly never the little girl who dreamt of becoming a TV Listings editor (well what little girl does, honestly?).

Hell, here she comes...

Tonight at 19:30 on BBC One: Stacey's in for a double shock!

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Nine Rooms updates every Tuesday - Gina - Nick - Claire - Alan - Joey

Day of Reckoning

If there’s anything more difficult than coming to terms with a failed relationship – that dark day when you realize, something I guess like you’ve had this cut of glass embedded deep in your skin so long you’ve gotten a bit comfortable with the pain of it, and pulling it out is going to hurt like you wouldn’t believe but you know the skin will never heal if you don’t just brace yourself and get on with it – it’s when the failed relationship is with your best friend. And if a boyfriend is like a cut of glass, well that is – I don’t know. Shrapnel or something. Lisette (from work) said the motto went, "chicks before dicks". I love Lisette! I just wish there were room for the two of us under her rock...

All this coming on the heels of not engaging Julie in eye contact as she passed me on her way out of Alan’s room this morning. First she swoops down on The Ex (are they even still living together, I wonder? Does he know about Alan? There is no way I could get this information without breaking character as the ex who is above it all). And now she can’t even look me in the eye when she comes over to see Alan (an ex...well let’s call him an ex-"what-was-I-thinking") Maybe I should take out an ad to warn all the exes to be on the lookout for a short cheeky brunette with falsies. I can’t help but think the sadder comment here is on me, for having ever looked up to her.

And then there is mild, dad-pants Nick. He always wears a belt. Jeans with a belt. Lisette says baggy jeans are a good sign. I asked if baggy jeans with a belt were a good sign and she frowned and asked if he wore sneakers or loafers or slippers or what (Doc Martins). Her eyes lit up with that which gave me pause. I got a visual of brushing past her in the hall and not making eye contact.

I want to know more about Nick, short of giving him the impression I’m interested. He’s attractive enough, well-off enough. If he had more of a baby face the Beatles haircut might even work. So why is he single at - well and how much older is he? Alan thinks he’s a joke (but well, consider the source). I don’t get the impression he gets on much better with Joey. But everything about him cancels everything else out – he has sexy arms (that is, when they're not obscured by some starched-out shirt his mum gave him for Christmas, which she must every year in the same three colors) – but then a little (no, a lot) too London Tower with the "drugs" policy. And I can’t help but wonder, if in that moment of youth when the decision was made, he had just said, "Screw the belt, I’m going to splurge on designer jeans!" if he wouldn’t be happily married with a teenager right now.

He invited me to the football match this Sunday...he was cleaning the oven, wearing an apron (an apron) and bright yellow rubber gloves as I was leaving for work when he asked me – the way he asked was, well - somewhere right in between asking me if the oven looked clean and asking me to dinner. Of course I had to accept – three hours of potentially awkward small-talk is better than the perpetual awkwardness of living with a snubbed landlord with a demonstrated proclivity toward sulking and zero-tolerance policies.

I’m doing my best to keep an open mind. My mum told me once that before the blind date on which she met my father she had sighed to her girlfriends, "At least I’ll get to wear my new dress."

Yellow Rubber Gloves.
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Nine Rooms updates every Tuesday - Gina - Nick - Claire - Alan - Joey

Keep It Down

It's not the nicest thing hearing an ex-boyfriend having sex with your best friend who moved into the house you shared with someone else.

I'm not sure which bugs me more. Let's just lump it all together and say "reminders". These are reminders of things I could have done better. Things I should have known and a whole bunch of stuff I can't undo.

But really, maybe we need to look back before we can move on. Or maybe, just, there you go.

Nick's OK. He's a great cook. I don't let him know this of course because he'll sell the house to buy that Thai place. Over a meal we shared (don't ok?), I let him know that if he was back in the restaurant business he would miss being a landlord.

At least this way he can still cook for us and have the best of both worlds. He can't exactly charge rent to his diners.

"You'd be surprised," he said, "those business lunchers are pretty hard to shift on a Friday."
So a sense of humour and good in the kitchen.

Stop it. I know.

Just stop.
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Nine Rooms updates every Tuesday - Gina - Nick - Claire - Alan - Joey

You Can Pick Your Friends

I spent most of the week seeing friends. If I'm honest with myself, I would say I'm doing the thing anyone does two months after a break up and that's the long and ugly battle to gain custody of the friends.

Gina's found this girl called Nancy who could be her sister, which means that Nancy's mother is her natural mother. She showed me a picture and there is a resemblance.

I hope she's going to be OK.
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Nine Rooms updates every Tuesday - Gina - Nick - Claire - Alan - Joey

"Are You Happy?"

That's what the card said. In pink roses, my favourites. In his handwritten scrawl, all loops and typewriter a's. Not "I'm sorry", not "I love you", not "Missing you" - no. The man who jilts for my best friend me writes to ask me if I'm happy. Never seemed to bother before. Julie hasn't been in touch either, which to be honest bothers me slightly more, because I know what Stephen is like. He could charm the pants off anyone. God, my boss fancied him.

It was with this sympathy in mind that I called him. Julie answered the phone and I hung up. The bastard is still living with her. He was hedging his bets with the flowers.

Next thing I know I'm walking around the house with a bottle of wine looking for someone to drink it with on Saturday a three in the afternoon. Nine rooms can make you feel small.

Alan walked in right as soon as I opened the bottle. He seems to have a talent for timing. I was drinking two glasses of wine for each of his and poured my guts out even easier. He seemed easy to talk to as I told him the whole story of the break up. He was polite the whole time but a little uncomfortable. Why can't men deal with women crying?

It felt good to get things out in the open. They aren't a bad bunch of people in this house.

Anyway, another week. I need to get some fresh air.
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Nine Rooms updates every Tuesday - Gina - Nick - Claire - Alan - Joey

Whose Drugs Are They Anyway?

Nick's a dick. He honestly is. Last week he was talking about the drugs he found. "Drugs". He said "drugs". It was about £15 worth of hash and he calls it "drugs". Like Interpol would in a press release. I've just from an excruciating house meeting where he tried to show that although he disapproved, he was still cool. Disapproving is not cool, especially when you refer to "drugs" as "Mary Jo". Joey cooked some brownies loaded with hash and Nick three of the things before walking off and telling me a Joey and Alan again how cool he was.

Gina was out. She thinks she has found someone who can tell her about her real mother. Even I feel guilty thinking of someone else as her mother. Her mum was such a kind person and more of a mother than probably mine or anyone's was.

The ex sent me a text message saying he hoped I was ok. That means he's not. I don't care. OK, I care enough to write that I don't care. But that's about it.
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Nine Rooms updates every Tuesday - Gina - Nick - Claire - Alan - Joey