"Au revoir..."

...to all the Frenchies. After Saturday night, I cannot possibly say anything else.

DJ Sasha was at Womb! For those of you who are unfortunate enough to be missing out on the wild world of electronica, he is probably the most famous progressive house DJ in the world. He came on at 1 and played a 4 1/2 hour set. The first 2 hours were fabulous, but then he went into some really deep trance, which bored me a bit for the rest of the night.

Deep trance... the music reflected how I felt about most of the night. The first 2 hours were fabulous as I was hanging out with M and R, my fellow Fat Boy Slim party-goers. But then I see a familiar face-- Frenchy 2 approaches us! He seems to be by himself, and he dances with us for a little while, but then he motions for us to follow him, and there is Frenchy-- wait, and Frenchy 3 as well...!? Yes, there I was, in the immediate company of ALL THREE FRENCHIES!!! AHHHH! I should have just run then.

Can it get any more awkward? Frenchy 3 was trying to dance with me, and behind us was Frenchy, seemingly unphased by the whole thing, and then Frenchy 2, off dancing with some J-girl. That pretty much sums up the rest of the night, though at one point Frenchy 3 escaped to the bar (I think he was getting tired of trying to seem like he was enjoying the music), and I was left with just Frenchy, who was still very obviously trying not to dance with me.

So how did I say "au revoir?" Frenchy is now back to London, and though we established at a Saturday lunch that we would remain friends, it's still hard. As he was leaving, he gave me a kiss and picked me up and held me really tight before saying, "Talk to you soon" and running away from the thought of "us" for another year. I, on the other hand, was saying a very comprehensive "au revoir," at least for a while until I get over him, because I can't continue e-mailing him every day if that is ever to happen. To Frenchy 2, well, we can still continue to be friends, I suppose, though in my head I'm saying "au revoir" to any possibility of us being anything more. And to Frenchy 3, we had to have "the talk." At one point while we were on the dancefloor, he blurted, "You are not over (insert real name here) Frenchy, are you?" And so we had a long talk at the bar, where I gave him a rather vague answer but then called him yesterday to clarify. "I am not yet over Frenchy, and please don't expect for us to be anything but friends." My third and final au revoir of the weekend.

So what shall I write in my posts from now on?! I have no more drama with men-- I have no more men! The most boring possible existence for me, though I should probably use this time to get myself sorted out. But what have I been doing for the past year-plus while I've been single?! I thought I was sorted out! Or perhaps I was unknowingly plagued with a long and bitter case of French fever. Anyone have any medication for that!?