I get the feeling my life is on a loop.
Why do I never spot the large "REPEAT" bars before I crash into them?
Let's recap:
Breakup [with Sweet Ex (2004)/GB (2009)], then a shorter fling-thing (quite intense) [with Pinocchio (2005)/BBB (2009)], another nausea-inducing break-up and straight onto the rollercoaster of fetish clubs, lesbian kisses, married boys, dirty pirates, phone sex buddies, not-so-sure's (but ok company), internet dates and long-distance rekindled romances.
The only difference being that in 2005 I fucked all of them when the opportunity arose, and now I don't. Which is more fun, as I feel less confused and guilty, my sheets are cleaner and there's always room for one more.
I am no longer willing to stretch my comfort zone, lower my standards or expand my tick-list to include undesirable habits or appearances, so I just cream off the best from the top.
I can snog Mr Adult Playground, have Strawberry Boy go down on me in Ginger Boy's mansion, go to the theatre with Tennis Boy, have Sunday walks with Veggie Boy, visit the fetish scene with slave boy and my Bi Friend, and enjoy the resulting banter during home-cooked dinners with my 'platonic boyfriend', Jake.
OK, I have days where I am horny as hell, but I just stay up late so I'm too tired to masturbate and the urges go away. Then I have saucy dreams about faceless strangers, or familiar faces in odd circumstances.
Went to the races on Saturday with Jake, Nicola and Tennis boy. Apart from Jake everyone lost more money than they won, but it was fun nonetheless and the weather was gorgeous.
Being the argumentative types, judgemental Nicola challenged feisty Jake over his looming divorce whilst Tennis boy and I commented on the sunset.
Back at mine, Tennis Boy helped me set up some flatpack furniture, the others went home. Suddenly my buzzer went.
I had exchanged some texts with a friend who suggested dropping in later with another girl and her flatmate, to which I said yes but that they'd have to bring some food as all that was on the agenda for the night was laziness and watching a DVD.
So I opened the door to find not only the three girls, but also two Swiss boys I'd never met before.
"Remember the surgeon..." one of my friends whispered to me, and I looked up at them blankly. "I wasn't expecting anyone else" I told her, and opened the door to my flat fully so they could take in the chaos of bits of wood and screws strewn around the hallway behind me..
"We are just putting up a wardrobe" I told them, "it's not really a party..." - which they clearly expected, judging by the bulging bags of crisps and alcohol they were carrying.
I'm not sure how this bit of miscommunication occurred, but it worked out well for me. Whilst the boys busied themselves with the flatpack, the surgeon putting the screws and other bits in tidy rows according to their size, us girls sat in the lounge with wine and pizza. 
