How Do You Solve A Problem Like Mia's?

Tiger is in his early 50s. I met him one night when I was out and about in town with Boy Bank Hunk and Stoner Boy. The first night I met him, he drank my piss out of a pint glass, but hey, thats a story for another post. Over the last year, we became good friends and when I was homeless earlier on in the year before I moved back to London, he let me sleep on his couch and gave me a job where he worked. I was grateful, he was an entertaining guy but his behaviour started to worry me. He would insist on sitting next to me all the time with his arm around me, tried kissing me a few times on the lips and always wanted to hold my hand when we were walking down the street. At first I didnt think much of it, then came the phone calls. He would call me up to 15 times a day. He had nothing to say to me, he just wanted to see what I was doing. He drinks a lot you see and has a tendency to want to see me when he is.

When I moved back to London, apart from Bambi, he was the only one that called me or kept in touch. I used to look forward to his phone calls and when I moved back to Barcelona a few weeks ago, he was one of the first people I wanted to find. My new apartment wouldnt be ready for another week and he let me sleep on his floor so I wouldnt have to fork out for a hotel.

The first few days were brilliant but then he would drink and become annoying. He's an alcoholic as I mentioned and Im trying to be a good girl. In a town where the beer is cheaper than water, its easy to get hammered every day. I wanted out. I moved apartments and started work. Whenever I saw Tiger, I always made sure I spoke about men I had met whilst I was out. I hoped that he would finally understand there was no way in hell we would be together.

He knew The Womanizer and kept asking me why I didnt want to be with him when he knew he could treat me so much better than TW ever did. I politely made my excuses and avoided the topic. We went out to dinner one night where he sunk two bottles of red wine and pulled my boob out of my dress. He insisted we look like we were together when the reality of it was I looked like a whore he had got off the streets. What else would you think of an old greying man with a young good looking woman?

I flirted with the waiter and made sure Tiger saw it. He kept calling me a tart and asking me how many of the people we knew had slept with me. Over and over again I kept asking myself why I was friends with him and when he tried to make me feel like I owed him something for letting me sleep in his apartment I lost the plot.

Over the next week, I avoided his phone calls or barely spoke to him. Then one day, I went mad when I found out that he had sold my laptop for half the price because he needed money when he was meant to be looking after it. As I told my friends about what had happened I questioned myself again. Why was I friends with him?

One night I went out with a mutual friend of ours who brought along The Russian. Tiger had spoken to me about him before and I had instantly liked the sound of him. Over drinks, I fell completely head over heels in lust with him. The next day Tiger called me up to say he had heard I had met The Russian and it sounded like I had a good chance of being under him by tht end of the week.

A few days later, I called The Russian the night before my birthday and asked him if he wanted to take me out. That night, we went out with a few of my friends and eventually we decided we both wanted more. As the night turned into morning and I fell asleep in his arms, Tiger kept calling me wish me Happy Birthday. I left The Russian's house and went to go see him. As we sat down, I made it a point to get my point across that I was with someone else now and he couldnt behave the way he does.

I thought I had made myself clear when I told him I was with The Russian. He asked me whether I had fucked him and what was going on. I left quickly, telling him I had to go meet some friends. Later that afternoon, I went with The Russian and my friends to Gava, just outside of Barcelona for a party pool to celebrate my birthday. While I was there, I had 3 missed calls from Tiger.

Not sure why he was calling me, I told The Russian to pick up and talk to him. They knew each other and I explained the situation to him. He agreed with me that I wasnt imagining it and I had a right to be concerned. Over the course of the evening, he called twice again and when The Russian answered he called back again hoping to speak to me. Just before 10pm he called and asked if he could sing Happy Birthday to me down the phone. As he finished, I asked if he wanted to speak to The Russian and he hung up on me.

The next morning when I switched my phone back on, I had 4 missed calls from him. He called again a few hours later screaming down the phone for ignoring him the night before. He was drunk and couldnt understand why I was ignoring him. As I told him I was with The Russian, he flipped and started threatening to tell him lies about me and what I had been up to. This was one man who didnt like what was going on and was going to do everything to make sure I wasnt going to stay with The Russian for too long.

He just didnt get the point that he is over twice my age, is an alcoholic and will never be with me.

Who said that you had to be famous to have a stalker...has anyone else had a problem like this before?

Back to Basics...

So enough with the moaning, its now been 5 days since my accident and I´ve already taken the cast off and have been partying all weekend. Yes, I know, I was moaning and bitching about being in so much pain but I´ve found the solution. A great little mixture of weed, booze and painkillers. I´ve been hobbling around like an eejit but its actually worked to my advantage...Ive had tons of cute guys asking me why I´ve got cuts on my face...shame I can´t do anything about it. Back to story time and it´s time you meet my new man.

This is the story of The Hot Russian.

I was meant to stay away from men remember? I promised myself I would move to Barcelona and concentrate on me. Get a new job, make new friends and not make the same mistakes I did last time, falling for someone within the space of weeks and not doing my own thing. All was going well until Tiger mentioned this Hot Russian he knew. He was a younger, hotter, slightly more insane version of Boy Bank Hunk and well, I always had a soft spot for that boy. I harassed Tiger to invite the Hot Russian out. I knew he wouldn´t, purely because Tiger wants me for himself and knew that I would want the Hot Russian and I always get what I want.

One night I made him call the Russian in front of me and when he asked I grabbed the phone. Tiger was right, he sounded hot on the phone but as they always say...cute on the phone, add a stone. I told him to come out, he was busy that night but I was trying to persuad him otherwise. I told him to keep the next night free, knowing that I had already made plans and wasnt going to meet him.

A week later and I needed some guy I knew taken care off and so I called up a friend of mine who normally deals with shit like that. We arranged to meet up for a drink before we went to pay a visit to this guy so I was in a pleasant shock when he turned up with a friend of his...who was stunning gorgeous and happened to be The Hot Russian. As I stood there, half trying to flirt with him, half trying to remember that I was furious with this twat that needed to be slapped around a bit, I realised why Tiger didnt want me to meet him.

After the whole ordeal, we went back for another drink, we ignored our friend and flirted in the most innocent way possible. As we left the bar and the boys walked me to the cab, The Hot Russian put his arm on the small of my back when we crossed the road. For a girl whose had men that treat her life shit, I melted. I couldnt stop smiling to myself and the next morning when Tiger called me and mentioned The Hot Russian, my heart skipped a beat. Apparently, he had taken a fancy to me and Tiger was sure that I would be underneath him by the end of the weekend.

It was my birthday weekend...and I couldnt think of a better way to celebrate.

The One With The Hit And Run

I was too happy wasnt I? I'd finally moved back to Barcelona, got a gorgeous flat near the beach, met the most amazing guy who for once doesnt treat me like shit and then what happens? I get hit by a car.

I went out on Tuesday night with one of my girlfriends. It started off with an intercambio drinks thing in town where people meet up to pratice their Spanish and English. This was the first time we were going and I was VERY excited. Afterwards we went back to mine for dinner and then headed out to my favourite bar for a drink or two. At 2am we decided to leave and go our separate ways. As we said goodbye and I went to cross the busy road, I saw a bright light coming towards me and then bang!

I was on the floor.

I got up. Only a month earlier I had been knocked off my bike in London. I was fine, I told myself. I was more embarassed about the fact that I had been hit by a car rather than the fact that I couldnt feel the left side of my body. A crowd surrounded me, I couldnt speak. As I sat there with my head in my hands, I realised that I could of just died. Panicking I tried to think of who to call....and thats when it hit me. No one. Im all alone in this town. Bambi's in Ibiza, I dont talk to The Womanizer or any of his friends anymore and Ive decided to cut Tiger out of my life. I called The Russian, crying down the phone, I told him I'd just been hit by a car.

Shocked, he said he would be there ASAP, he was on the other side of town where he had just moved to and I knew he had a busy week ahead of him. As I sat there, surrounded by a group of Catalan people looking after me, I felt an sudden urge of homesickness coming on. I didnt understand a word anyone was saying, a man sitting next to me kept freaking out and wanted me to go somewhere with him. I thought it might of been the driver but later got told he had already driven off after he had hit me. As the police and ambulance turned up, I spotted The Russian walking towards us. The look of shock on his face said it all, I had cuts all over my arms and face and I was bleeding everywhere.

As they wheeled me off into the ambulance, I saw him telling me to answer my phone. Within seconds he was calling asking where they were taking me so they could follow. It was now just past half 2 and he looked shattered. I told him to go home, I was gonna be a while, I needed x rays done on my jaw and leg. I needed to be cleaned up and as he argued his case, I realised how unbelievably amazing he really was. This was a man I had only met a mere week ago, a man that I had only really spent 2 days with before the accident and yet here he was trying to look after me. Any of my ex's would of run half a mile in the opposite direction. The irony of it all was that The Russian would always cross the street making sure he was in the direction of the oncoming traffic with one arm on my back and the other holding my hand.

As I sat in the hospital wondering my fate, he texted me every half an hour to see if there was any progress, eventually he fell asleep and when I left I texted him what had happened. At half 6, I hopped out the hospital with a broken meta tarsal in my left ankle, damaged tendons and cuts and bruises.

Yesterday was spent at home, pretending to work but getting bored by the lack of freedom. Watching back to back DVDs and bitching about the fact that I couldnt eat because of my locked jaw. My desire for food has gone out the window and for the first time in 5 years I smoked weed hoping it would make me feel hungry.

Unfortunately I now have a job where if I dont come in, the whole place falls apart. This morning I had to come in, not only because Im needed but also because I need to pay the rent at the end of the month. I cant walk properly, I can barely walk and I came in stoned and have continued to smoke at my desk.

Im drugged up on a mixture of meds, making sure I dont have some freak OD and earlier in the day I was thinking about topping myself off. I finish work in 10 minutes and Im hoping tomorrow isnt that bad.

Whereever the bastard is that hit me and ran, I hope hes burning in hell.