A-team, B-team

We played our first games in the University’s football five-a-side knock-out competition Our A-team lost 5-1, while the B-team (I played in goals) lost 7-0. We were 2 goals down within a minute.

Rowan has at long last finally made arrangements to go ‘see someone’. She and I walked up to the Health Center and she made an appointment to see Dr. Briars, who''s supposedly a top Harley Street psychiatrist. The appointment's on Friday: “The thirteenth,” she pointed out with a smile.

Her personal life is as complicated and lurid as ever. She and Katie have devised a little money-making scheme: because Katie owes Rowan money, Katie is sleeping with a girl named Mary over in Rousseau in exchange for cash and dope. Says Rowan, “They both seem to find it funny, but I don’t think it is. Still, some people won’t take advice, will they?”

At the moment she’s seeing Richard, a relationship she says has been progressing for “weeks and weeks.” Richard is gay, and has a thing going on the side with John. Richard tells Rowan she should regard John as his “wife,” with Rowan in the mistress position. Rowan is jealous.

Meanwhile she’s also thinking of getting involved with someone else also named John and who knows Richard. Rowan really fancies this other John, and John 2 can give her things that Richard can’t, (because he's gay), and Richard doesn’t give a fuck who she sees apparently.

Added to all of this is a mysterious Mr. X with whom Rowan's developing a fledgling relationship. Meanwhile John 2 suffers from emotional “instability,” Richard is “demanding,” Mr. X refuses to accept Rowan’s multifarious relationships, and Rowan herself has all her usual hang-ups. And she comes to me for advice?

“Morals do not come into it” she says. “I need lots of different things, and if no one person can give me all those things rolled into one then I’ll get them from lots of different men.” What could I say? She has such a knack for always making things as complicated as possible.

“At least it’s not boring; I’m quite enjoying it . . .”