MONDAY: Mark. There was a lot of drinking. Some of it with his boyfriend, who runs a restaurant I've never heard of. Ended up sitting in a flat at 3am with a BBC3 Celebrity (yes, I am aware of the tautology). When Mark's boyf wasn't looking he squeezed my bum. Which wasn't confusing at all.
Dropped into my fave bar (Site), which is in the process of shutting down. It's taking longer to die that Peter O Toole, and with less booze. My favourite Latvuanian barman was there - smacked off his head on some chemical or other. Mark kept on asking him if he was a rent boy.
TUESDAY: Brad. Saw Calendar Girls. I cried a lot. Discovered that Brad thought I'd done a runner halfway through the film, when all I was doing was emptying my tiny bladder. Wow. Never realised how easy it is to play mind games with the insecure. There was, alas, only kissing. Brad says he isn't ready yet to "take things further". Seethe. Even Princess Di put out on the third date. The irritating thing is, he's quite lovely.
WEDNESDAY: Phil. Texted to say he might not be able to make it - he's hungover. Am looking forward to a night in with a lust it's dangerous to speak about.