In this super introspective phase of my life, I realise how much of a creature of habit I am. As Relationship #4 begins to find its feet, like a clumsy, ridiculously long-limbed, newborn fawn, I find myself following a familiar pattern. With 27 rapidly approaching, maybe I'm beginning to figure myself out?

Stage One - Excited! (Status: COMPLETE): Oh gosh, someone new! Someone new who is lovely and into me and gives me the giddies! I thought we were just shagging, but now I think that, gasp!, you might be my, gasp!, boy, gasp!, friend! Gasp!

Stage Two - Alone Time (Status: COMPLETE): We are hanging out so much, but I don't want this to move too quickly - I think some alone time is in order. Excuse me while I get a bit moody and distant, leaving you confused and dejected, while I make no effort at all to explain my behaviour. Poor new boyfriend!

Stage Three - Jealousy! (Status: COMPLETE): Everyone you have previously shagged, and everything you have previously done, fills me completely irrational and petty jealousy! The thought of you doing those things makes me super annoyed! Did you like her more than you like me now? I bet you did. Grrr!

Stage Four - I obviously care for you more than you care for me (Status: POSSIBLY STARTED YESTERDAY?): the fact that you didn't send me quite as many e-mails yesterday, and chose to stay at home to catch up on things rather than play XBox with me, obviously means that you are not as crazy about me as I am about you. Of course you say that you were super busy with work yesterday, and that you had to stay home to at least wash some clothes so that you weren't walking around in dirty jocks, but I know the truth! You hate me! Gah, what a mistake I've made jumping into this so quickly, now my heart will be broken into a million pieces!

Stage Five - Settled (Status: NOT YET STARTED): I no longer get the tummy butterflies when I see you, and I'm over my pathetic fight for (perceived) independence, jealousy and self-esteem issues - now we're lovely and comfortable and I'm pretty much certain that this is Forever. Yep, this is Us, for the rest of our lives, and it's grand. I am going to sigh contentedly, a lot. Ok?

Stage Six - SELF-DESTRUCTION!!!! (Status: NOWHERE NEAR IT, YET): We've grown apart! I've been feeling this way for months but haven't told you! I'm going to let us continue on while I feel miserable and will fail to express it by bottling my emotions, as you're very aware by now that I'm a First Class Bottler. All up until it comes to a head, and we Call It Quits, which will be followed by several days of "I know this is for the best, but I feel so sad" non-stop crying.

And there we have it, my complete relationship life-cycle. History has shown that Stage Five will kick in at some point after six months, and Stage Six doesn't occur until the 2-3 year mark. Grim outlook, yes? I guess the aim this time round should be to break the pattern, so that Six never happens. And if I'm honest with myself I know that in the past I haven't put in the effort to stop Six from happening, for various reasons. And despite the idealistic outlook I portray in Five, I don't really presume that anything is Forever anymore.

Poor new boyfriend, ending up stuck with cynical old me. He doesn't know what he's getting himself into.

Because there's some stuff I can't tweet:

Since being single for the past couple of months (oh, I'm single now, by the way), I have had not one, but THREE of my male co-workers "have a crack", so to speak. This is not flattering. This makes me suspect that somebody is spreading rumours that I'm a super easy slutbag. And what bugs me the most is that these are guys who I considered to be good buddies, and who were apparently biding their time to try and eventually get into my frilly pants.

Ok, maybe more sensible than frilly.

Also, I experienced the wonder of being out with an Incredibly Beautiful Person the other night. I had come from work and was dressed in typical fashion, i.e. like a bum, and observed the activities with much interest from my spot against the wall, where I became completely invisible in her presence. It reminded me of that episode of 30 Rock where Liz Lemon goes out with a supremely beautiful man, who has no idea when he is terrible at things because he is constantly shown favour and given praise because he is beautiful. Kind of. It seems to work like this:

• Continual comments about her (very beautiful) appearance
• Men continually joking that she is their girlfriend
• Never having to pay for her own drinks
• Men making constant excuses to be near her and touch her
  

And so on. I thought about doing my hair nice, and putting on make-up, and dressing all pretty to see if it made a difference. For all of 5 seconds before I remembered that I really can't be arsed.

In other news, a friend and I are planning on a round-the-world trip for next August/September. I am 26, and should probably be saving for a house deposit. But travel is way more fun. Whoo!

As you probably know, the reason I started RAT and ditched the Old Blog was related to my ex. Specifically, I wanted somewhere else that I could write, that he didn't know about. So I tried to make this one as anonymous as possible, with no links or references to the old one, and thought that would be that.

So how should one feel when the ex mentioned has shown that he is actually reading this blog, by leaving a comment on one of the posts?

a) Indifferent. It's been a long time, so what does it matter?
b) Happy. Oh, so great to hear from you!
c) Incredibly annoyed. LKSDFLKJSDFLSDlkjslf#$#ljsdfk! [head explodes]

I guess I need a mop to clean up my head.

More back story is probably needed, but it is just frustrating after making such efforts to move on with my life, only to once again have another reminder of a time in my life when I wasn't particularly happy.

Call me crazy.

Sigh.

So I was on the bus home just a little while ago, and my phone started buzzing. I pulled it out of my bag and looked at the display, which read:

Ex-BF

Well, it was actually his name, but, you know. For the blog's sake. But not my most recent ex, but the one before that. The first ex. Who I haven't actually seen or spoken to in, oh, FOUR YEARS?

So I whigged out a bit. I couldn't help it. I like to think that I am a grown-up who can handle these situations, but obviously I am a sissy girlpants. I just stared at the phone, and then it stopped buzzing. He left me voicemail.

I hopped off the bus and walked home, wondering what it could possibly be about. Perhaps something had happened in his life and for some reason, he wanted to talk to me about it? Maybe he just wondered where we both were at after a few years? I listened to the message:

"Hi. It's Ex-BF, you might remember me. I was just curious to see if you still had this number. I still have it in my phone, for some silly reason. Anyway, bye."

Thoughts:

• I never noticed what a major bogan accent he has.
• He doesn't sound friendly in the slightest.
• WTF kind of message is that?
• Curious if I still had the number, how about "curious about you, how you're doing" etc.
• For some silly reason? Way to compliment a girl.
• TWAT.
  

And I felt really annoyed.

This is following the text message I received earlier in the week from my ex (the other one) which annoyed the shit out of me, too.

So I can conclude the following:

• There is something going on with the alignment of the planets, or the lunar cycle, or something, that is making people from my past get in touch with me.
• I am very easily annoyed (possibly because of planet alignment or lunar cycle).
  

MEANWHILE!

The girl sitting in front of me on the bus had the most ridiculous hair that I have ever seen. I wanted to take a picture of it, but there were too many people around me and it would've looked suss. Instead, here is an incredibly lifelike drawing.


It was a big, fluffy, knotty birds nest. She was young and hip though, and you see, this is why I will never, ever be a fashionable person.

Here is the spiel.

• Last relationship: ended badly. Very badly. Very super badly. This is what happens when you go out with somebody for two years when all of your inner bits keep telling you not to, and you ignore them, like the stubborn bitch that you are. But hey, these are my lessons, look how much I have learnt, etc.
• Foolishly, foolishly started going out with a boy Very Very Soon after the break-up. You see, because my last few months with the ex had been pretty much void of any happyfuntime, I thought I would do what lots of young, single girls in their twenties do, and find myself some happyfuntime. But then I discovered that he was actually quite smashing, and my efforts to be an absolute slut have once again been unsuccessful. Damn!
• I decided that not having my licence was altogether shit. So I went out and got it. And then I bought an old bomb of a car which has a squealy fan belt and a crumply number plate from where it smashed into another car, once upon a time. And I started driving it around all over the place and endangering innocent motorists and pedestrians with my P-plated enthusiasm. Though I am yet to crash into anyone or anything, so HIGH FIVE.
  
  (And hoo-freaking-rah for never having to get public transport on Christmas Day AGAIN.)
• I applied for, and was successful in gaining, a higher-paid position at work. Twice! And the lovely cash made me very, very happy, but what made me happier was that I hardly ever had to talk to twats on the phone! Joy! I have said for a while that this will be the last customer service-based job that I ever do, and I am one step closer to living the dream. Unfortunately, I still have to talk to twats at work, and I probably have several thousand pages full of blog fodder just in the agency temps who are constantly flowing through my workplace. Sigh.
• After going out for just under a year, Beardie (yes, Beardie) and I decided to co-habitate. This happened last month. And now I'm sharing all my stuff with A BOY. Ewwww.
• I missed blogging, and then I sort of forgot about blogging, and then I realised that I had no hobbies and decided to start blogging again. I am trying to get back into the blog frame of mind, where you can't help but look at any situation without thinking "I wonder if I could blog this?" Maybe I need to buy a shirt to remind me.

And there we have the entire last year of my life summarised by six dot points. How freaking depressing. And now that's out the way, let's move onto something far more exciting.

Give me a minute. I'll think of something.