Regrets, I've had a few (...but probably not what you expect)

About a year ago, I was in a dilemma over a guy, lets call him Bert. Basically there was a drunken flirtation, which could have led to something, but me being my usual dense self didn't realise until days later.
I regretted not doing anything at the time - another missed opportunity - especially since I had no means for contacting this guy. So I did what any normal psycho would do... tracked him down on facebook!
Aah facebook and the endless stalking opportunities that it provides...
After maintaining about four days of facebook surveillance, I decided to send him a message:
"I may be wrong about this but i keep thinking that you asked to come back to mine last friday. If you did and I said no, I hope you didn't take it personally. It's not you (I actually think you're quite fit), I'm just not that sort of girl. If you didn't and this is just a figment of my drunken imagination, please ignore this message (which i will deny sending anyway)"
Now most people reading this are probably cringing for me, but I don't regret this. I can actually read this message and laugh, and actually feel a sense of growth....as this is A LOT less psycho than a previous escapade
Different guy and sober flirtation, but still my usual dense self. With this guy, lets call him Ernie, I met him exactly once, at least I had spent some time with Bert before the drunken night of almost-debauchery. Anyway, after a couple of hours of sober flirtation, I realised that another opportunity had been missed.
He said: "Maybe I will see you here again"
My response: "I only usually come here once a year"
DUH! This I regret! And any normal person will regret what followed - correction, no normal person would do this!
Firstly, I found him on facebook, which was quite easy as he has an unusual name. But he had like government-level security settings, you couldn't poke or send a message, not even add as a friend. Plus there was no access to any information, just an out-of-focus pic and his name.
After months of facebook surveillance, in the vain hope that he would change his settings, I got creative. Facebook is not the only web-based stalking tool. I'm not going to reveal my methods - do you seriously want more psycho internet-based stalking activities? But I found his address - crazy enough I know, but I actually used it, to write to him. That's a whole bucketful of crazy right there. He then emailed back, I took this as a good sign. However, the main purpose of his email seemed to be to enquire: "how (the hell) did you get my address?" I should have taken this as a sign that maybe my contact had frightened him somewhat, and that it would probably be a good idea to dial down the crazy. No, honesty is the best policy, lets relay to my frightened stalkee the extreme lengths I have gone to. His response -  a polite reply, which contained his intention to never return to London again... I think that might be code for "I have taken a restraining order out on you, you raving lunatic!"
I do not regret this though, in fact it is a running joke between myself and a select few.
So yes, I have a few regrets, but it has consistently been the things I haven't done, the missed opportunities. The things that I have done, no matter how certifiable, I haven't regretted and (so far) they have caused me no harm. So my advice to you, embrace your inner crazy... but I'm clearly insane, so only you can decide whether you're mad enough to follow that advice.

A Pregnant Pause

Travelling home from work on the bus and I overheard a mobile phone conversation (what did we do for travel entertainment before mobile phones and the ability to eavesdrop on one side of a conversation and imagine how the other side is going? Highly entertaining if your imagination is anything like mine!)
Anyway, a young woman was on the phone and exclaimed "I've never been so happy to get my period!" I didn't need to hear anything more to know exactly what the conversation was about, and also to understand how she was feeling. Many women reading this have probably gone through the same thing, where you feel like dancing triumphantly through the streets because you have your period. Meaning that the thing you have been dreading for days has thankfully been dodged!
For those of you lucky enough to not have experienced this, let me give you the benefits of my experience...
Mine started earlier than most, lets just say that there was a "contraception mishap", so there was a slight worry at the time. But my bedmate assured me that there was no risk, so I forgot about it.... that was until my period was due, and didn't come.
Two days late... it's probably stress, work has been manic!
Five days late... work is crazy, my routine has gone haywire, it has probably affected my cycle!
Six days late... I must have counted my days wrong, I must be due tomorrow. No, I've counted right. No, this can't be happening! Out and about, I'm seeing babies everywhere, and I swear that they're looking at me, like they somehow know. This is driving me nuts, well more nuts than usual!
Seven days late... Ok this is serious, I have never been this late before. I find myself googling "early signs of pregnancy". Weirdly, one sign is a constant need to pee - because in the first couple of weeks of pregnancy, the womb starts to expand in preparation and presses on the bladder in the process. I'm someone who can usually hold it quite well, but not recently. Ohmigod, I think I am. Ok, if I don't come on tomorrow, I will buy a test.
Eight days late... Still no period - why is this happening to me?!?  I buy the test, from the supermarket. The supermarket? Really? Of all the places! But it's done, and I conveniently hide it in my trolley under my work bag. Well, what if I bump into someone? If I am, I can't keep it. So people can't know! So glad I hid it, as I do bump into not one, but two people. I get the test home, without anyone seeing thanks to my stealth skills, and just stare at it. After all that, I can't even bring myself to take the test. I'm too scared to.
Nine days late.... I have been to the toilet more than ten times since buying the test - still can't face taking it. I reason to myself that there's nothing I can do about it (if I am pregnant) before the weekend. So I will take the test on Friday night - yes, I know how to party!
Ten days late.... I'm so tired - crap, that's another early sign, an overwhelming feeling of fatigue. I start googling local abortion clinics and reading about the procedure. I can't keep it, but can I really go through with an abortion?
Eleven days late... I'm convinced that I'm pregnant, and it's all I can think of. I can't focus on my work, I'm a total space cadet. Go to the toilet - can't believe I need to go again, damn you increasing womb! But all my Christmases have come at once, oh sweet relief! "Yes!" I exclaim gleefully, outloud, in my work toilets. Yes, 'cause that's not weird. Hope no one else is in here, or if there is that no one heard that. For the rest of the day, I can't stop smiling. People probably think I'm on drugs, I'm smiling so manically! I don't care. I'm not pregnant. I couldn't be happier. I feel like I can press play on my life again!

creeps and weirdoes

I realised when I was quite young that I had a "talent" for attracting weirdoes... I could be out with a group of friends, and the clearly socially-inept freak that everyone was avoiding would always single me out for their very own brand of special attention. In my youthful innocence, I was always polite, not wanting to upset and offend... this usually resulted in being plagued by unwanted attention!
As I grew older, and my sarcasm and cynicism developed (the sarcasm more than the cynicism), I learnt that I had to be cruel to be kind - as in I had to be cruel to them in order to be kind to myself! So I armoured myself with a wide variety of blunt and sarcastic comments, which has often worked to great effect. But this is a prevention and not a cure, and so I have often questioned "why me? why do these freaks always single me out for attention?" The modal answer (most popular answer - for the non-Maths whizzes) has consistently been:
"Your warm smile and friendly nature....they view you as someone too kind to reject their advances!"
So what now? Do I go around with a gloomy look, the typical trademark look of all londoners?
Plus add to that a new dimension to this dilemma, what if the freak is someone you work with?
This is my current predicament. I say work with, we don't work together, just in the same place. So I've gone back to being polite, because I don't want to get a reputation as a bitch. But he seriously creeps me out...
So what should I do? This is the thought that has been keeping me awake this week, and any advice would be very gratefully received...