Dear Diary,
So I have returned! Technically, it was yesterday, but because it's been so busy (or I've just been so lazy) I've had to leave it till tonight to enthrall you with my Highland adventures.
Oh, and just to warn you, I left with 5 Scottish Missions:
THE 5 SCOTTISH MISSIONS
1. Hear someone say my name in a Scottish accent
2. Try Haggis
3. Photograph someone in a kilt (must NOT be a tourist attraction)
4. Kiss/sleep with someone Scottish
5. Get someone to say "There's been a MURDERRRRRR!" 'Taggart'-style.
FRIDAY
Where to begin? Well, Friday might be a good place, as that was the start of it all. Had to be up at the crack of dawn to take delivery of the new double bed (sadly, not for me). Naturally, the delivery men didn't arrive till half 12, by which time I was flapping around, lobbing things into my suitcase, and trying to hurry them out - which made them decide to try out Shaun's magnetic darts board. Twats.
Frantically executed a speedy hair-dye (accidentally dying the edges of my glasses and face orange in the process) which actually turned out looking alright. Even left for the tram on time. Things were looking good! Until the tram decided it was a perfect time to test their emergency brakes. But even so, I miraculously arrived at the station on time, after legging it through the city centre, suitcase in tow.
Arrived at the platform sweating like a bitch and panting like a dog in heat - still, surprisingly, on time. Showed my ticket to the inspector, who calmly assured me I hadn't missed my train. And that is when the entire weekend went spectacularly wrong.
He stared at my ticket for a few minutes, and then informed me that the ticket, the one I bought the day before, in advance, which I assumed was an open-dated return, was in fact only valid for the day I'd bought it, i.e: yesterday.
I stared at him for about 10 solid seconds. And then I said the word "SHIT" so loudly he visibly flinched and a group of passing people turned and stared.
I'm not proud of it, I mean, there were CHILDREN present. I had to spend FORTY FRIGGING QUID on another return ticket, and there was no way I could argue or beg my way out of it, not even with heartfelt pleas of "I only have £60 ALL WEEKEND!" I even started panicking and crying right in front of them (not even on purpose, believe me) as I handed the cash over, and all they could do was look highly uncomfortable and offer me a complaints form. So I was left to trip dazedly down the stairs, stand on the platform, crying silently yet hysterically to myself, and wondering what the hell I was going to do in Edinburgh with £20. Texted Alice and Mum, who surprisingly didn't tear me a new one, but suggested I borrow some money off Alice, which she would replace with a cheque in the post. Alice agreed. So, with a sense of shame, embarrassment and slight relief, I was back on track.
Got to Edinburgh only an hour later than I would've arrived, gazing in wonder at the highlands and beauty surrounding the train and listening to Scottish music to get in the mood. Sadly, all I had was one song by The Procclaimers. Met Alice, who it was WICKED to see..... until we walked the INCREDIBLY long route to her flat, haha. First impressions of the city - absolutely stunning, churches, castles, views and hotels as far as the eye can see, and about 7 takeaways on every street. My kinda city! Arrived at the flat, met her lovely flatmates (The two "P"s, one Scottish, one Irish = 7th heaven, accent-wise) and crashed the hell out, watching TV, nosing round Alice's room and generally exploring. Ordered pizza off the Internet (THE INTERNET!! PIZZA!! Yeah, you heard me) and watched the "Skins" finale while our stomachs internally exploded. To paraphrase Superhans from "Peep Show" (ironic, as he was actually IN the "Skins" finale) "I wanted to kill myself just so my body could avoid the sheer fucking hell I was about to put it through this weekend....."
Went out to a student bar soon after (me in my Flashdance top) while I stared around in wonder at the:
a) Students. My GOD, I've missed that lifestyle.
b) Scottish people. Everywhere. Speaking Scottish.
c) Green Beer. Yep. Exactly what it sounds like.
Met Geri, a friend of Alice's (Scottish Missions 1+5 completed) who managed to wangle us tickets to a show called "The Improverts." I was going to an Improv show! In a theatre! In Edinburgh! How could this weekend get any better?? So we ambled off round the corner (after an impressively quick downing of cider and black - I'm getting good!) and soon, I was sat in a theatre for the first time in about a year, watching students prat around making funny shit up for an hour. And I'd never been happier. The show was brilliant, and the actors hilarious. The whole performance was basically what first year at uni was like, on my course. Good times (*tears up*)
Went for a drink afterwards but soon our yawns were becoming too obvious to ignore, despite my fluctuating moodswings ("Let's go out!" "Ohhhh..... I'm so sleepy..." "Let's carry on drinking!!" "Ohhhhhhh..... tired..... my eyes.....") so we decided to pack it in and headed home.
SATURDAY
Woke up in quite possibly the comfiest bed in the world about half 11. Sigh, THIS is what my life should be like..... Dossed around for a bit (I read my book, Alice Internet-ed) and had some toast before heading out on our first Edinburgh adventure - ie: shopping. My god and sonny Jesus. We went EVERYWHERE.
I bought:
Fruity Incense
Wooden incense ash-catcher
2 bracelets, 1 multicoloured, 1 matching the Cheryl dress
My feet were nearly BLEEDING by the end of the afternoon, but damn, it was worth it. We stopped off in Burger King for lunch (yessssssssssss) and took a peek in Ann Summers - which housed some ridiculously attractive lads all jostling each other and looking at props for a stag do. Mmmm..... straight Scottish men in a sex shop...... Walked back and crashed the hell out in the flat, showing the girls our purchases, listening to the Chillies (have resolved to buy or download "Blood Sugar Sex Magik") and generally having a rare old time doing absolutely fuck-all.
Hoisted ourselves out of the stupor to visit the notorious chippy to get tea - and let me experience my first battered meal. I was given two sausages, and when I say "battered" I mean they had the SHIT battered out of them. The batter literally formed a shapeless mass around the sausage. I picked it up with the tips of my fingers and still ended up greased up to the elbow. God, I love Scotland. Sat with the girls and watched "The Simpsons," before going to get ready. Unfortunately, and this was the real bitch of the weekend, I'd forgotten to pack any going-out shoes, so had to borrow Alice's low ones. Still the dress made me smile, as it is the Cheryl Cole dress - with the combination of GHD's straightening the SHIT out of my hair and mixed Cosmos.
Soon we were all gathered in the lounge, with the addition of Rowetta - another uni friend (who I got a slight girl-crush on for the evening, typical). At my suggestion, we ended up playing "Roxanne," - a notoriously terrifying drinking game I picked up at uni.
"ROXANNE" - THE DRINKING GAME
Rules: Split into two teams (preferably boys vs. girls) of equal numbers, or as close as you can get.
Find an Ipod or CD with "Roxanne" by Sting on it. Plug it in, and set the track going.
Everytime he sings the word "Roxanne" - the girls (or Team 1) drinks. Everytime he sings the words "Red light" - the boys (or Team 2) drinks. As you can imagine, when it gets to the bridge where he does nothing BUT sing those words, it gets understandably messy VERY quickly.
So after Round 1, we were all, as you can imagine, ridiculously giddy and warm-faced. God, I love that game! Loved it even more when one of the girls (having been on the phone for an hour) entered the room and decided she had to "catch-up". Cue much moaning/giggling as "Roxanne" was set on repeat......
Eventually set off to the club, where we got in free and got cheap drinks all night (one of the girls knew one of the barmen). The club was A-MAY-ZING, playing the cheesy music I unashamedly love, lights set at WILDLY flattering shades, and gorgeous Scottish blokes EVERYWHERE. We made straight for the dancefloor to shake ass for 2 hours, with cheap drink breaks in between. THIS is what my life should be like!!
After a while, I sweatily made my way to the bar, and ended up standing next to a guy stood alone, to avoid the masses. Stood waiting for 5 minutes, getting steadily harrassed by a pleasantly (but annoyingly) drunk girl dressed as a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle who seemed determined to tell me about her sprained ankle ("I'm a Teenage mutant INJURED turtle! D'ya GET IT??!") After she left, the guy - who was really VERY good looking - smiled wearily at me, and we started chatting. Somehow, my Cheryl-yet-secretary-style dress seemed to change my personality, as I tried out a new flirting technique I'd never attempted before. I simply asked about him, and did ABSOLUTELY NOTHING ELSE. I asked what he was studying, what he worked as, who he was out with (his friends, who abandoned him) and all manner of things. I didn't tell him what I studied, I didn't tell him why I was in Edinburgh, I didn't tell him about "Roxanne." I simply talked about him, with the occasional hair-touch and subtle gaze-at-his-mouth. Why have I never DONE this before??!
And that, dear friends, is how I ended up in a club, in a city miles from home, getting 3 -THREE!! - drinks bought for me by a gorgeous Scottish guy. And yes, he knew the same barman, so they were all cheap. Good times!
Sadly, I realised too late that I'd been gone for about an hour, and got a bollocking off Alice for disappearing. Fair enough, it was fairly stupid of me - I really don't think about things sometimes. It's strange, I think too much about things I shoudn't, and then completely ignore or forget the things I SHOULD. Hmmm..... Maybe I should visit Paul McKenna. This CAN'T go on.
After some more lovely chatting, Dan (for t'was his name) confusedly helped me accomplish 2 missions (1+5) before suggesting we hit the dance floor. And THAT, dear friends, is how, after a few minutes of dancing closely and with much smiling, I accomplished Scottish Mission 4. Eventually had to leave, as typically, that was the night the clocks went forward, so we all got kicked out an hour early. We stood in the coat queue, Dan standing behind me, while I, in demure-looking-secretary-in-vixen-mode (*Snort* I wish!) let my hands do some slight wandering behind me....... while he had his mouth on my neck. Mmmmm. I fucking love Scotland. Not to mention I've discovered a handy talent - being able to undo a fly button with one hand, behind me, without even LOOKING. I am a GENIUS!! I wonder if that's a skill I could put on a CV? Well, if I wanted to get a job the EASY way, I suppose.....
I'd like to say that when we got outside, I gave him a little kiss and joined Alice to head home, during which I did nothing to embarrass myself or remember in horror the morning after. But, as we know, this is me. And however unintentionally, I don't always follow the rules.....
We got outside, Dan being very lovely (and rather pleasantly, not pushing or anything) and suggesting we go back to his. And I'm ashamed to say, despite being in another city, I was considering it. Well, Alice had already said I could, if said paramour lived nearby (seems I am quite predictable after all!). Sadly he lived with his parents, and there was no way in hell I was taking him back to the flat. So after 10 minutes of anguished pondering, Alice getting steadily more annoyed and Dan even suggesting we took a "walk" (at 3am?? Do me a favour....) I decided to leave him with a kiss. Just as well really, I took a different handbag out with me and forgot to transfer the condoms from my purse. Subconcious, anyone?
Anyway, this is where the hell began. In the excitement of pulling a sexy Scot, I'd forgotten to go to the loo before leaving, and was now faced with the agonising task of walking the 30-minute journey home with a beachball full of urine inside myself. I shrieked, I bobbed, I bounced. I took my shoes off and did that horrific clenched-knees walking. I even put my hand in my coat pocket and tried to hold myself without looking like a public fiddler. BUT NOTHING WORKED. I don't think I've ever needed a wee that badly in my LIFE, I was literally nearly crying with the pain. Although I somehow managed to accomplish Scottish Misson 3. And this is where I sunk the lowest I've ever sunk. God knows I've done some stupid things in my life. I've got into debt, slept with strangers, tried weed and had a STD/pregnancy scare. But this was by far the most embarrassing. There's no nice way to say it, so I might as well just come out with it:
I pissed down an alley. Behind a skip.
And do you know the worst bit? I checked up both ends of the road that no-one was coming. And just when the coast was clear, the fucking group of friends who'd walked past the alley TURNED ROUND, and started walking down it. And there was NOTHING I could do - I was mid-flow and it was one of those 55-second-long ones where you just CANNOT STOP. Needless to say, I yanked my knickers and tights up the second I was able, and calmly strolled out from behind the bins, adjusting my coat and trying to smile blithely at the passers-by who were staring at me in disgust.
Me: "Evening!"
Gang: "Umm......"
Me: (*walks off really quickly*)
Girl: "Oh my god, what's that.....?"
Me: (*thinks*) "Oh no, no, NO........!!!"
Guy: "Hahahaha!! Spew-age! Spew-age! Spew-age!!"
Me: (triumphantly gives Gang the finger and strides away*) "Hahaha! They think I threw up behind the bin! When I actually peed behind it! I win!!"
By far the most "Peep Show" moment of my life.
The journey home was a lot easier after that. We weaved through the remaining streets. I started singing "Pour some Sugar on me" to myself at the top of my voice and taking photos of random things. We got into bed (I don't even remember getting into my PJ's) and I spent a few minutes desperately trying to apologise to Alice before conking out.
SUNDAY
Woke up on Sunday feeling pretty annoyed, as someone had obviously come in the room while I slept, poured glue in my nose and ears, and hit me over the head with a particularly heavy Sporran. Had those glorious moments when things start coming back to you, causing you to bury your head in the duvet and wail with sheer horror at what a cretin you were. Had a brief moment of pride upon realising I had not gone home with Dan, but as I said to Alice - "What if my answer to actually finally having an orgasm lay with him??" Ah well, what if..... Apologised again, but thankfully it turns out she wasn't as pissed off as I thought, just annoyed that I took so long to decide what to do.
Went for the most magnificent, massive (and possibly first) fry-up I've had in a year, accompanied by Haggis. So that was Scottish Mission 2, and therefore all of them, completed! Although I can't say I'm a fan, it was all mushy and gross. And I couldn't stop picturing where it came from. Oh well. I called it Angus and took a photo, to prove I'd done it.
After the stunning hangover cure, we discovered another one - walking through the city up to the Castle on the most fantastic sunny day imagineable. Looked over the whole of Edinburgh with the wind blowing through our hair, and wondered what it would be like to live this kind of life, instead of the one I have. Gosh, I really need to stop travelling so much, it just makes me wistful.
Walked through gardens and parks full of daffodils (stopping for an obligatory frolic) before journeying back through town. We got drinks and sat outside a church, watching the local chavs, or "NEDs" (Non-Educated Delinquents) as they're called in bonny Scotland. We talked about sex for a while - shocked myself with the realisation that I've only enjoyed it 3 times, and that I only see it as successful if the MAN comes, AND also spend most of the sex waiting for it to be over - EVEN IF I'M ENJOYING IT AND LIKE THE PERSON I'M WITH. My god, I really am impatient, aren't I? Well, that and the fact that I just can't let go during sex. I never can. If I'm not panicking about my body and wondering if I'm pleasing the guy, I'm just thinking about other stuff and wondering how long before it ends. Is that bad?? Surely one shouldn't be bored during the wonderful act of love-making (or fucking, depending on the type of sex being had)? Shouldn't you just be focusing on the sheer pleasure you're giving each other? Meh. I don't know. Maybe I've just not experienced that chemistry with anyone yet.
After these afternoon revelations, we went to Tesco for ingredients, and I cooked tea (as a Thank You for the money-lending). Am ashamed to admit, I was incredibly proud of my signature meal. We ate Creme Eggs for pudding, and watched "The Thomas Crown Affair" - gawping at Pierce Brosnan. Watched "Lost" with one of the girls, and packed the rest of my stuff with a heavy heart. And scribbled some goodbye messages for the girls on the communal kitchen whiteboard.
MONDAY
Up bright and early, as Alice had a doctors appointment. I gathered my scattered belongings (about 90% of which were bangles and bracelets)whilst listening to the Chris Moyles show and gazed around for the last time before being ushered out onto those beautiful - and now familiar - streets. I actually got a lump in my throat. Had a goodbye hug at the traffic lights, before I was left to wend my way to the train station, staring around me as if I'd never see anything again, with "Bittersweet Symphony" on my Ipod. Wellllllllll, you have to play that as you're strolling along a city street! Grabbed a Burger King breakfast since I was about an hour early, and read my book. Got a Subway for lunch as soon as I arrived back home (I know, I'm gonna weigh a metric ton after this weekend) and headed over to Auntie's flat/office.
That was quite cool, I just did some Data Entry for a few hours. She kept her promise to help me with the MJ tickets, but sadly the website was run by a bunch of fucking liars. When they said "2 for £170" they apparently meant £170 EACH. Plus £60 comission. And £10 postage. You do the math(s). So I've sacked that off for the time being. Something will work out, it always does.
Got home to meet our new houseguest for the next few months - our cousin Damien. He's over from Switzerland, working down the road from Mum, so his wife emailed to ask if he could stay with us - hence, the new double bed in Shaun's empty room. Jammy bastard. He seems nice - I've met him before, but I'm not surprised I don't have much of an impression of him, he's incredibly quiet and keeps to himself a lot. I didn't even pester him with questions or talk at him like I usually would. Well, fair enough, he's probably slightly uncomfortable in our house. Still, it's something new. Dad seems pretty chuffed at having another man around the house, considering he wasn't too keen on the idea to begin with.
I'm not that pleased about it, to be honest. I'm not ANNOYED at him, or anything like that - it's just gonna be slightly uncomfortable, I reckon. Or it could be fun. Who knows?
And thus ends one of the best weekends EVER. I don't half love all this travelling and re-living the student life for a few days, not to mention seeing old friends. It really made me wish my life was better at the moment. Not in a depressing way, just pondering, like.
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Current Mood: knackered
Current Music: "Wisemen" - James Blunt
Tuesday, 31 March 2009
Friday, 27 March 2009
Grrr....
Dear Diary,
If there is one thing in this life that really fucking annoys me, it is this:
When the two people you really really like (Gary and David), almost to the point of madness, are online at the same time - and NEITHER or them talk to you.
On the bright side - EDINBURGH TODAY!!! And I had two very nice dreams last night - one involving me "stroking" David at a sex club while other people were watching (and chatting, bizarrely), and the other involving me, Kyle, and a blowjob. Except, in the dream, he was the exact same size and shape of a roman wax candle (ie: very thick, very round, and very massive). But I still managed! I guess having a big mouth comes in handy sometimes......
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If there is one thing in this life that really fucking annoys me, it is this:
When the two people you really really like (Gary and David), almost to the point of madness, are online at the same time - and NEITHER or them talk to you.
On the bright side - EDINBURGH TODAY!!! And I had two very nice dreams last night - one involving me "stroking" David at a sex club while other people were watching (and chatting, bizarrely), and the other involving me, Kyle, and a blowjob. Except, in the dream, he was the exact same size and shape of a roman wax candle (ie: very thick, very round, and very massive). But I still managed! I guess having a big mouth comes in handy sometimes......
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Thursday, 26 March 2009
Pre-Edinburgh update
Dear Diary,
Today was shockingly positive. Was dragged out of bed by Mum, as I had to go and look like a mental by trekking down to Lidl for 9am (that's the 2nd early morning I've had this week, what's HAPPENING to me???) to pick up a computer screen.
Sadly, they were doing a promotion on computers too, which meant that the scene was absolute CARNAGE. Grown adults were yelling at each other, blaming the cashiers - I swear I saw someone shoving someone else. There was a short Jewish bloke who'd apparently been there since SIX IN THE MORNING, and point-blank refused to move his trolley, as he was first in the queue. For fuck's sake, it's a COMPUTER. The cashier actually looked relieved when I only asked for a monitor - I gave her a big smile and told her to ignore the imbeciles. Good deed for the day! Maybe..... Felt very pleased of myself for getting the last one, and hearing the joyful tone in Mum's voice upon telling her - so rewarded myself with a Maccies breakfast and a McFlurry. Fuck it, it's nearly the weekend! Mum said she owes me - hopefully that will remunerate itself in the form of £20 before I leave tomorrow, heh heh.....
Had another good steady morning shift at the pub (earned even MORE tips than yesterday), despite the big-eyed wanker who kept trying to talk to me despite me walking into other rooms, blatantly reading the paper and serving other customers in an attempt to avoid him. And he admitted he was trying to get me drunk the night I went on a post-dumped-memorial bender. Euuuuurgggggh. Anyway, jumped on a tram after that and was whisked straight into town to pick up my EDINBURGH TICKETS!!! Well, might as well get them in advance, eh? Save queueing tomorrow. And I REALLY sound like an old biddy now, so moving on.....
Decided not to go home straight away but strolled in the sun through town, looking in shops. Bought a hot chocolate (it was sunny, but DAMN cold!) and sat on a bench in front of the grass, watching the fountain and listening to "Bolero" on my Ipod. Yes, I'm a geek, but we should all take our pleasure where we can get it, right? It just so happens that mine involves being massively pretentious......
Cooked my first ever fish pie for tea, which went better than I ever could've expected. Had a good workout at the gym (Cutie nowhere to be seen, hmph) and chatted to Shaun again. His mates came over too. From what I could hear from outside the door (finding clothes to iron and pack) it sounds like he's been getting some action over there. Yikes. Oh well, at least he's having fun. Although it's not a good feeling to know my brother's getting more than me. Or to know ANY aspect of his sex life, to be honest. Oh god, he'd BETTER have used the condom I packed him!!
Been exchanging excited texts with Alice all day - mostly telling each other how excited we are. There have been constant references to a "feast" - I'm expecting to put on about 8 and a half stone this weekend. Apparently, if it'll fit in a fryer, the Scots will fry it. THAT INCLUDES PIZZAS.
PIZZAS.
PIZZAS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Fried PIZZAS!!! Can you IMAGINE such a world?? Not to mention I'll be surrounded by Scottish accents all weekend!!! (*slips off into David Tennant-filled daydreams*) And it sounds like Alice has A LOT planned. Have packed for all eventualities - mostly nights out, and have of COURSE included the Cheryl Cole dress, as it's my aim in life to find new places to be seen in it. Yeah.......
Right chaps, I'm off to bed. Got to be up at 7 frigging AM to sign for a delivery, "due between 7am and 2pm." I know what'll happen, I'll sit up from 7 till 10, and the minute I think "Bugger this, I'm off to dye my hair" they will show up, while I stand in front of them looking like I've been massacred (The dye is red, in case you were wondering). God, I hate early mornings......
Oooh, almost forgot to mention - I got an email today from a ticket site: the cheapest Jacko tickets I could find for the same night that Kyle's going (we always said we'd go together, it just can't be done any other way!) are £180 for 2. That's £90 A TICKET!!! That's cheaper than ANYWHERE else at the moment!! There is the small problem of me not really being in possession of £180, and why they can't just sell them singly. And the fact that Mum refused to help me out, after much begging, pleading, and forfeiting birthday presents for the next ten years.
Until Auntie rang, asking me to go help her for a few (paid) hours at work on Monday. Naturally said yes immediately. Except my tongue ran away with me, and next thing I knew, the words; "I'll do it..... but I MAY have a favour to ask in return......" came out of my mouth. Oh god. Still, I was very polite and level-headed, not begging, whining, or using the words "rich auntie" or "favourite niece" - and I made it clear that whatever I made from flogging the second ticket on Ebay would of course be hers, as people are clearly willing to pay over the odds (would obviously keep a LITTLE of the profit myself, I'm not STUPID!). Anyway, she's said she'll think about it and get back to me as soon as possible, so fingers crossed!!
God, this might actually work. There's still hope!
In case you weren't aware, I'm off up (very far) North tomorrow, so beware of the monster blog upon my return, dear pilgrims! (In other words - I'll write Monday)
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Current Mood: excited (via sleepy)
Current Music: "Big Yellow Taxi" - Counting Crows
Today was shockingly positive. Was dragged out of bed by Mum, as I had to go and look like a mental by trekking down to Lidl for 9am (that's the 2nd early morning I've had this week, what's HAPPENING to me???) to pick up a computer screen.
Sadly, they were doing a promotion on computers too, which meant that the scene was absolute CARNAGE. Grown adults were yelling at each other, blaming the cashiers - I swear I saw someone shoving someone else. There was a short Jewish bloke who'd apparently been there since SIX IN THE MORNING, and point-blank refused to move his trolley, as he was first in the queue. For fuck's sake, it's a COMPUTER. The cashier actually looked relieved when I only asked for a monitor - I gave her a big smile and told her to ignore the imbeciles. Good deed for the day! Maybe..... Felt very pleased of myself for getting the last one, and hearing the joyful tone in Mum's voice upon telling her - so rewarded myself with a Maccies breakfast and a McFlurry. Fuck it, it's nearly the weekend! Mum said she owes me - hopefully that will remunerate itself in the form of £20 before I leave tomorrow, heh heh.....
Had another good steady morning shift at the pub (earned even MORE tips than yesterday), despite the big-eyed wanker who kept trying to talk to me despite me walking into other rooms, blatantly reading the paper and serving other customers in an attempt to avoid him. And he admitted he was trying to get me drunk the night I went on a post-dumped-memorial bender. Euuuuurgggggh. Anyway, jumped on a tram after that and was whisked straight into town to pick up my EDINBURGH TICKETS!!! Well, might as well get them in advance, eh? Save queueing tomorrow. And I REALLY sound like an old biddy now, so moving on.....
Decided not to go home straight away but strolled in the sun through town, looking in shops. Bought a hot chocolate (it was sunny, but DAMN cold!) and sat on a bench in front of the grass, watching the fountain and listening to "Bolero" on my Ipod. Yes, I'm a geek, but we should all take our pleasure where we can get it, right? It just so happens that mine involves being massively pretentious......
Cooked my first ever fish pie for tea, which went better than I ever could've expected. Had a good workout at the gym (Cutie nowhere to be seen, hmph) and chatted to Shaun again. His mates came over too. From what I could hear from outside the door (finding clothes to iron and pack) it sounds like he's been getting some action over there. Yikes. Oh well, at least he's having fun. Although it's not a good feeling to know my brother's getting more than me. Or to know ANY aspect of his sex life, to be honest. Oh god, he'd BETTER have used the condom I packed him!!
Been exchanging excited texts with Alice all day - mostly telling each other how excited we are. There have been constant references to a "feast" - I'm expecting to put on about 8 and a half stone this weekend. Apparently, if it'll fit in a fryer, the Scots will fry it. THAT INCLUDES PIZZAS.
PIZZAS.
PIZZAS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Fried PIZZAS!!! Can you IMAGINE such a world?? Not to mention I'll be surrounded by Scottish accents all weekend!!! (*slips off into David Tennant-filled daydreams*) And it sounds like Alice has A LOT planned. Have packed for all eventualities - mostly nights out, and have of COURSE included the Cheryl Cole dress, as it's my aim in life to find new places to be seen in it. Yeah.......
Right chaps, I'm off to bed. Got to be up at 7 frigging AM to sign for a delivery, "due between 7am and 2pm." I know what'll happen, I'll sit up from 7 till 10, and the minute I think "Bugger this, I'm off to dye my hair" they will show up, while I stand in front of them looking like I've been massacred (The dye is red, in case you were wondering). God, I hate early mornings......
Oooh, almost forgot to mention - I got an email today from a ticket site: the cheapest Jacko tickets I could find for the same night that Kyle's going (we always said we'd go together, it just can't be done any other way!) are £180 for 2. That's £90 A TICKET!!! That's cheaper than ANYWHERE else at the moment!! There is the small problem of me not really being in possession of £180, and why they can't just sell them singly. And the fact that Mum refused to help me out, after much begging, pleading, and forfeiting birthday presents for the next ten years.
Until Auntie rang, asking me to go help her for a few (paid) hours at work on Monday. Naturally said yes immediately. Except my tongue ran away with me, and next thing I knew, the words; "I'll do it..... but I MAY have a favour to ask in return......" came out of my mouth. Oh god. Still, I was very polite and level-headed, not begging, whining, or using the words "rich auntie" or "favourite niece" - and I made it clear that whatever I made from flogging the second ticket on Ebay would of course be hers, as people are clearly willing to pay over the odds (would obviously keep a LITTLE of the profit myself, I'm not STUPID!). Anyway, she's said she'll think about it and get back to me as soon as possible, so fingers crossed!!
God, this might actually work. There's still hope!
In case you weren't aware, I'm off up (very far) North tomorrow, so beware of the monster blog upon my return, dear pilgrims! (In other words - I'll write Monday)
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Current Mood: excited (via sleepy)
Current Music: "Big Yellow Taxi" - Counting Crows
Wednesday, 25 March 2009
Slight depression
Dear Diary,
I bloody HATE the Job Centre!!! Just to get that out of the way......
Pub Quiz last night was actually not bad - we came 5th. What gives me more vicious thrills than anything is seeing Anna's parents (who Mum says have always looked down their noses at me since I was a kid) looking at me in shock, when I know the answers to loads of questions. You can almost see them ITCHING to say "How do YOU know that??" Well fuck you guys, I guess when you spend the years believing your perfect Teacher-Assistant daughter is cleverer than the Struggling-Writer friend, you're bound to get a shock at some point. Actually, hang on, that sounded big-headed. But you know what I mean. Plus it helps that I read like a MOTHER - you just pick stuff up.
The second I got up to go to the bar, Anna practically blazed fire trails across the floor to join me - and ask my assistant in analysing EVERY SINGLE LITTLE THING her boyfriend has said or done (or not done) in the past week, ranging from name-dropping his female friend to reasons why they can't hang out this week. Again, I'm no expert, but I at LEAST know one universal fact: Nagging...... is NOT attractive. EVER. Nor is constantly pestering him and asking why you don't spend more time together. Or, god forbid, asking why he doesn't talk about his FEELINGS.
.....................................
IS SHE FRIGGING INSANE???!!! She's only been seeing this guy THREE MONTHS!! I don't care if he's the sweetest, most mild-mannered guy on the planet. I don't care how "intimate" or "solid" they are, it just ISN'T DONE. She was even talking about marriage and moving in together. And apparently SHE HAS MENTIONED THIS TO HIM. I mean...... THREE MONTHS, PEOPLE!!!! What the HELL??! Over keeness, much? Jesus.....
Anyhow, I answered and advised with all the skill (and "interested face") I could muster, whilst wanting to just grab her and shake her like a polaroid picture. I am all for love at first sight. I even believe it could happen to both people at the same time. I'm a hopeless romantic, and love all that stuff. But I at least know the universal rules. Whether from an inntuitive female inner-knowlege or mis-spent youth reading glossies, who knows?
Today wasn't too bad - had my first ever morning pub shift, which was strange but plesant. Made WAY more tips than usual, and the Landlady even let me clock off an hour early for my Job Centre appointment.
Now then.
I FUCKING HATE THE JOB CENTRE!!! OK, so it was nice and very customer-friendly. And for the first part, all I did was sit and verify everything I'd said in the phone call. But by the time I got to the second part, I was starving and bursting for the loo, not to mention being interviewed by one of the dimmest women in the NorthWest. After 45 minutes my stomach was rumbling and my kidney's pulsating, as "Jean" sat making ENDLESS spelling mistakes, blatantly not knowing one end of the computer from the other, and waffling on about how she got her job, why she loves her job, and the personalities and habits of her husband, three kids, and their hamster, Brian.
By then I was ready to gnaw my own hand off out of boredom/hunger, but eventually signed and verified everything, promised to put in the effort, and got ready to leave - excited by my new motivation and ambition. Until I turned back, just to check, and asked how much I got.
"Forty-six pounds"
"Oh, great! A week?"
"No, a fortnight."
"..............................??????"
FORTY-SIX BLEEDING QUID A FORTNIGHT??? Who the HELL could live off THAT??! OK, I suppose the fact that I live with parents and don't have children to support or rent to pay probably contributed..... but STILL!! Apparently my pathetic little "4 hours a week" job counts as "Part-time employment." Fucking hell!! I give up. I really do. Why the HELL didn't I just LIE??!! Probably illegal, but fuck it, I'd have got more! Actually, thinking about it, that's probably what they call "fraud".......
Tripped off home in an angry daze, wondering what the hell I'm going to do now. Apart from endlessly send off fakely enthusiastic letters in the vain hope of getting a soul-crushing job that will probably REALLY annoy me......
Evening wasn't much better. Was cheered up briefly by a series of increasingly excited/exciting texts from Alice about this weekend. Shit, should probably start picking outfits and packing, come to think of it..... Until tea time came. Mum, clearly not grasping the concept of me cooking tea for a week so she could put her feet up, hung around ALL the way through, looking over my shoulder, poking her nose in, criticising at every turn and telling me exactly where I was going wrong. I was only making chicken and veg, for frig's sake. I nearly threw the ladle at her and shouted; "You know what? I'll leave you to it, you obviously don't need me here." Thankfully, I didn't.
It turned out nice in the end, anyway.
Had a call from baby brother again - who's now demanding the second half of the money I owe him from ages ago (£130. Fuck! Fuck! FUCK!!!!) Bad news is, I simply don't have it. More bad news, he told Mum I owe him, which shows he means BUSINESS. Even more bad news, this means I have to come up with the money pretty damn quickly before she suspects anything. And even MORE bad news - this means that he's spent all his money and is pretty much living off noodles and working for his bed. Shit...... What's he going to DO?! He can't really GET any skinnier, he'll DIE.
Topped off the evening with a trip to the gym. Wasn't getting into it AT ALL tonight, but was distracted by a skinny cutie, who I've seen a few times, and always catches my eye. It happened again tonight - a LOT. I'd be staring aimlessly round the room, and then look back and he'd be looking at me. Don't get me wrong, I liked it. And I got to practise my "stare at crotch and then look up startled-rabbit-style" looks and smiles. Meh, probably doesn't mean anything. Chances are he's most likely thinking:
a) "I wonder where she got that Led Zeppelin t-shirt?"
b) "By CHRIST that's a red face!! How is she still ALIVE???!"
c) "Shit.... why does she keep looking at me? Do I KNOW her?! Oh my god, what if it's someone who knows me but I don't recognise them?? Keep looking, try and figure out who she is....."
Spent an hour online, staring psychopathically at Gary's picture on Facebook, willing him to start chatting to me. I know, I'm a twat. Even cracked and sent a message asking about his status.... to no reply. What a cunt. What kind of limp-dick parody of a man comes on all hot and heavy, working someone up for weeks, promising all sorts and then just not only stops talking to them, but also IGNORES them?? The absolute dick-tard, knob-licking, man-boobed, colon-sucking, wank-stain SCROTAL SACK!!! I hope he gets raped with an artichoke. A BIG SPIKY ONE.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Current Mood: aggravated, frustrated and isolated
Current Music: "Crazy" - Alanis Morissette
I bloody HATE the Job Centre!!! Just to get that out of the way......
Pub Quiz last night was actually not bad - we came 5th. What gives me more vicious thrills than anything is seeing Anna's parents (who Mum says have always looked down their noses at me since I was a kid) looking at me in shock, when I know the answers to loads of questions. You can almost see them ITCHING to say "How do YOU know that??" Well fuck you guys, I guess when you spend the years believing your perfect Teacher-Assistant daughter is cleverer than the Struggling-Writer friend, you're bound to get a shock at some point. Actually, hang on, that sounded big-headed. But you know what I mean. Plus it helps that I read like a MOTHER - you just pick stuff up.
The second I got up to go to the bar, Anna practically blazed fire trails across the floor to join me - and ask my assistant in analysing EVERY SINGLE LITTLE THING her boyfriend has said or done (or not done) in the past week, ranging from name-dropping his female friend to reasons why they can't hang out this week. Again, I'm no expert, but I at LEAST know one universal fact: Nagging...... is NOT attractive. EVER. Nor is constantly pestering him and asking why you don't spend more time together. Or, god forbid, asking why he doesn't talk about his FEELINGS.
.....................................
IS SHE FRIGGING INSANE???!!! She's only been seeing this guy THREE MONTHS!! I don't care if he's the sweetest, most mild-mannered guy on the planet. I don't care how "intimate" or "solid" they are, it just ISN'T DONE. She was even talking about marriage and moving in together. And apparently SHE HAS MENTIONED THIS TO HIM. I mean...... THREE MONTHS, PEOPLE!!!! What the HELL??! Over keeness, much? Jesus.....
Anyhow, I answered and advised with all the skill (and "interested face") I could muster, whilst wanting to just grab her and shake her like a polaroid picture. I am all for love at first sight. I even believe it could happen to both people at the same time. I'm a hopeless romantic, and love all that stuff. But I at least know the universal rules. Whether from an inntuitive female inner-knowlege or mis-spent youth reading glossies, who knows?
Today wasn't too bad - had my first ever morning pub shift, which was strange but plesant. Made WAY more tips than usual, and the Landlady even let me clock off an hour early for my Job Centre appointment.
Now then.
I FUCKING HATE THE JOB CENTRE!!! OK, so it was nice and very customer-friendly. And for the first part, all I did was sit and verify everything I'd said in the phone call. But by the time I got to the second part, I was starving and bursting for the loo, not to mention being interviewed by one of the dimmest women in the NorthWest. After 45 minutes my stomach was rumbling and my kidney's pulsating, as "Jean" sat making ENDLESS spelling mistakes, blatantly not knowing one end of the computer from the other, and waffling on about how she got her job, why she loves her job, and the personalities and habits of her husband, three kids, and their hamster, Brian.
By then I was ready to gnaw my own hand off out of boredom/hunger, but eventually signed and verified everything, promised to put in the effort, and got ready to leave - excited by my new motivation and ambition. Until I turned back, just to check, and asked how much I got.
"Forty-six pounds"
"Oh, great! A week?"
"No, a fortnight."
"..............................??????"
FORTY-SIX BLEEDING QUID A FORTNIGHT??? Who the HELL could live off THAT??! OK, I suppose the fact that I live with parents and don't have children to support or rent to pay probably contributed..... but STILL!! Apparently my pathetic little "4 hours a week" job counts as "Part-time employment." Fucking hell!! I give up. I really do. Why the HELL didn't I just LIE??!! Probably illegal, but fuck it, I'd have got more! Actually, thinking about it, that's probably what they call "fraud".......
Tripped off home in an angry daze, wondering what the hell I'm going to do now. Apart from endlessly send off fakely enthusiastic letters in the vain hope of getting a soul-crushing job that will probably REALLY annoy me......
Evening wasn't much better. Was cheered up briefly by a series of increasingly excited/exciting texts from Alice about this weekend. Shit, should probably start picking outfits and packing, come to think of it..... Until tea time came. Mum, clearly not grasping the concept of me cooking tea for a week so she could put her feet up, hung around ALL the way through, looking over my shoulder, poking her nose in, criticising at every turn and telling me exactly where I was going wrong. I was only making chicken and veg, for frig's sake. I nearly threw the ladle at her and shouted; "You know what? I'll leave you to it, you obviously don't need me here." Thankfully, I didn't.
It turned out nice in the end, anyway.
Had a call from baby brother again - who's now demanding the second half of the money I owe him from ages ago (£130. Fuck! Fuck! FUCK!!!!) Bad news is, I simply don't have it. More bad news, he told Mum I owe him, which shows he means BUSINESS. Even more bad news, this means I have to come up with the money pretty damn quickly before she suspects anything. And even MORE bad news - this means that he's spent all his money and is pretty much living off noodles and working for his bed. Shit...... What's he going to DO?! He can't really GET any skinnier, he'll DIE.
Topped off the evening with a trip to the gym. Wasn't getting into it AT ALL tonight, but was distracted by a skinny cutie, who I've seen a few times, and always catches my eye. It happened again tonight - a LOT. I'd be staring aimlessly round the room, and then look back and he'd be looking at me. Don't get me wrong, I liked it. And I got to practise my "stare at crotch and then look up startled-rabbit-style" looks and smiles. Meh, probably doesn't mean anything. Chances are he's most likely thinking:
a) "I wonder where she got that Led Zeppelin t-shirt?"
b) "By CHRIST that's a red face!! How is she still ALIVE???!"
c) "Shit.... why does she keep looking at me? Do I KNOW her?! Oh my god, what if it's someone who knows me but I don't recognise them?? Keep looking, try and figure out who she is....."
Spent an hour online, staring psychopathically at Gary's picture on Facebook, willing him to start chatting to me. I know, I'm a twat. Even cracked and sent a message asking about his status.... to no reply. What a cunt. What kind of limp-dick parody of a man comes on all hot and heavy, working someone up for weeks, promising all sorts and then just not only stops talking to them, but also IGNORES them?? The absolute dick-tard, knob-licking, man-boobed, colon-sucking, wank-stain SCROTAL SACK!!! I hope he gets raped with an artichoke. A BIG SPIKY ONE.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Current Mood: aggravated, frustrated and isolated
Current Music: "Crazy" - Alanis Morissette
Tuesday, 24 March 2009
Moving on up
Dear Diary,
Well, for once, something good has happened! Two things, actually.
1) Yesterday I cracked and phoned the JobCentre - and it turns out I'm eligible for Job Seeker's allowance. Woo-hoo!! Nothing to be proud about I know, but fuck it, I've got nothing else to lose now. So I have an interview tomorrow to discuss my claim - and apparently they help you find work based on your skills! Sweet.
2) Landlady called - I've got a day shift tomorrow instead of the usual night shift. You know what that means, don't you? NO CLEANING-UP!! And I've got an EXTRA shift on Thursday. So an extra £20 next week, then! I might just go completely and utterly nuts and pay a trip to Primark!
All in all, quite a better day than yesterday. Mum was clearly due to have Aunt Irma in town, as she spent the whole day yelling at me, fuming about the state of the house (we've got a RELATIVE coming, not the frigging Queen) and getting frustrated with Dad...... The only amusing thing (if there was one) about the whole day was that it wasn't the messy house, Dad's "incompetance" or me being a lazy shite that pushed her over the edge - it was not being able to use the Internet. She actually shouted "FUCK!!!" at one point, for the first time in all the years I've been her daughter. I didn't know whether to collapse from shock or rupture my spleen laughing.
I was damned glad the day was over, to be honest. She was starting to drive me batshit crazy. Even when I've taken on the task of cooking tea for a whole week, she hung around me all the way through, questioning me, pointing out my complete incompetance and generally criticising me at every single opportunity. For fuck's sake..... I actually made an excuse about wanting to get a magazine, walked to the nearby corner shop and bought my body weight in chocolate. Felt strangely better, and not full of guilt for once......
Just getting ready to go to the usual pub quiz. Anna is being UNBEARABLE at the moment - constantly ranting about her wonderful boyfriend. Apparently he has a female friend he's never mentioned before. And hasn't been seeing too much of her (Anna) recently, because he "has loads of work" to do. Now, I don't mean to stray from my own side and put down my sex - but from what she's told me, it sounds like she nags him constantly, asks him why he doesn't talk about his feelings with her, and questions him about his friend constantly. I mean, COME ON!!! I don't claim to be a man-expert, having only ever had one boyfriend who dumped me 3 months in, but I at least know SOME common man-sense!! Jesus.....
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Well, for once, something good has happened! Two things, actually.
1) Yesterday I cracked and phoned the JobCentre - and it turns out I'm eligible for Job Seeker's allowance. Woo-hoo!! Nothing to be proud about I know, but fuck it, I've got nothing else to lose now. So I have an interview tomorrow to discuss my claim - and apparently they help you find work based on your skills! Sweet.
2) Landlady called - I've got a day shift tomorrow instead of the usual night shift. You know what that means, don't you? NO CLEANING-UP!! And I've got an EXTRA shift on Thursday. So an extra £20 next week, then! I might just go completely and utterly nuts and pay a trip to Primark!
All in all, quite a better day than yesterday. Mum was clearly due to have Aunt Irma in town, as she spent the whole day yelling at me, fuming about the state of the house (we've got a RELATIVE coming, not the frigging Queen) and getting frustrated with Dad...... The only amusing thing (if there was one) about the whole day was that it wasn't the messy house, Dad's "incompetance" or me being a lazy shite that pushed her over the edge - it was not being able to use the Internet. She actually shouted "FUCK!!!" at one point, for the first time in all the years I've been her daughter. I didn't know whether to collapse from shock or rupture my spleen laughing.
I was damned glad the day was over, to be honest. She was starting to drive me batshit crazy. Even when I've taken on the task of cooking tea for a whole week, she hung around me all the way through, questioning me, pointing out my complete incompetance and generally criticising me at every single opportunity. For fuck's sake..... I actually made an excuse about wanting to get a magazine, walked to the nearby corner shop and bought my body weight in chocolate. Felt strangely better, and not full of guilt for once......
Just getting ready to go to the usual pub quiz. Anna is being UNBEARABLE at the moment - constantly ranting about her wonderful boyfriend. Apparently he has a female friend he's never mentioned before. And hasn't been seeing too much of her (Anna) recently, because he "has loads of work" to do. Now, I don't mean to stray from my own side and put down my sex - but from what she's told me, it sounds like she nags him constantly, asks him why he doesn't talk about his feelings with her, and questions him about his friend constantly. I mean, COME ON!!! I don't claim to be a man-expert, having only ever had one boyfriend who dumped me 3 months in, but I at least know SOME common man-sense!! Jesus.....
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Monday, 23 March 2009
Window-ledge thoughts
Dear Diary,
Last night I had a lovely flashback to the days when I was on my Writing course. I was doing writing exercises ALL the time, we were taken away to the country to be inspired, and I thought I knew exactly what I was doing with my life. But I digress..... There's actually a funny story to be had before I tell you about the flashback:
It was about 2 in the morning after a little "me-time" - which, itself was really annoying, as I kept getting distracted by having the "Bolero" in my head, which consequently made me think of Torvil and Dean. SLIGHTLY distracting, although I wouldn't kick Dean off the ice..... Mmmm. Anyway, afterwards I was breathing slightly loudly, and fearful of the parents hearing me, I whipped open the window and stuck my head out, so they wouldn't hear me. There I was, minding my own business when I heard a rustle from next door's garden. Worrying about burglars, I looked down, only to see what was presumably my next door neighbour's daughter's boyfriend there - having a fag. Until he started glancing around, as if looking for something.
And then I realised I was still breathing - heavily and loudly.
After I'd triple-checked that he'd gone back in, I opened the window as far as possible and made a sort of makeshift seat, by putting a pillow under my thighs and dangling my legs over the window ledge. Scary, but cool. Anyway, I sat there for ages, not even feeling the cold, until I decided to do one of those exercises we did in first year - I can't remember the name, but it's where you write down, TRUTHFULLY, every single thought you have over a 5 minute period. No skimping on the details, every last gory warts-and-all thought that pops into your head. Luckily had a notebook nearby, so here are the results (you can judge them for yourselves). Everytime you see italics, just imagine the song is playing in my head.
"Pleasant Valley Sunday" - The Monkees
"This is gay"
"I'd love to be a cloud..... and just go places without worrying about travel sickness. Or money."
"I wonder how many people in all those houses are having sex right now?"
"I wish I could see some stars to wish on"
Sex
"I wonder if the writers/creators of the "Saw" films ever go to sleep at night thinking; 'Christ, we are some SICK individuals!!'"?
"I wonder if anal sex is really as painful as everyone makes out?"
"Pick it up" - Dem Naughty Boyz
"This is really pretentious"
(*looking West*) "There's a feeling I get as I look to the West..... what song was that? Oh right, Stairway to Heaven. What a tune"
"Stairway to Heaven" - Led Zeppelin
"If I spent ever hour of every day of every month practising for a whole year...... could I ever play the guitar like Jimmy Paige?"
"Yes man"
Sex with David
"Black or White" - Michael Jackson
"I think my favourite film of all time is Austin Powers"
"I love Mum - but why does she have to be such a constantly nagging bitch? Does she get off on it??!"
"What's Belle de Jour up to these days?"
Sex with Gary in a hotel room
"I can't believe he's not even texted, the cock-end. I want to punch him in the middle of his face"
Dark Side of the Moon
"Was that REALLY a hanging Munchkin in the Wizard of Oz?"
"FUCK, I've eaten too much today. I'm gonna EXPLODE!"
"I wonder what certain people find sexy about being defacated on? Do they never stop and think; 'Fucking hell! This is RANK!!"
"I totally wanna go see that Lesbian Vampire Killers"
"Will I ever get to experience proper lesbian sex?"
Lesbian sex
"I really wish I could see David again"
David sex
"I wonder if Kyle's also been obsessively wondering about what happened last week? God, I wonder what his reason for doing it was? I wish I could read minds. Actually no, because then someone could read MY mind and see all the horrible, bitchy, mean and also completely deviant sexual thoughts I have. Yikes."
Watching 'Coupling' and eating a pizza in bed with Gary
"Gary. Eugh. Fuck that deep-fried dick-monger. He can go shag his mum."
"Welcome to England" - Tori Amos
Sex on a piano
Pretty Woman
Sex with Kyle
"Argh, NO!!! Get out of my head!"
"Wow..... there is nothing that feels better than taking a really deep inhale just as the wind starts blowing"
"Maybe I could start my own cult"
"I wonder how old Charlie Chaplain would be if he was still alive?"
"Fuck, how the HELL am I gonna afford Edinburgh? This..... will KILL me"
"I wonder if Danny Wallace is on Twitter?"
"God, I hope I'm eligible for Jobseeker's allowance. £46 a week!! Sweeeeeeeeeeet. Although slightly demeaning..... having to sign on the dole. I've actually become Robert Carlyle. Man, that was a brilliant film! Us Brits really do make some classics....."
"Who would win in a fight between Russell Brand and David Tennant? Yes, one's from Essex and the other's from Scotland..... ooh, tricky one. Plus they're both skinny fuckers, but if they properly fought..... maybe in oil..... heated oil......"
Skinny man-sex
"Bolero" - Ravel
My god, I wish I was Torvil so I could skate so closely and perfectly with Dean. That would be a sweet life. I bet Torvil and Dean would have amazing sex, all moving together in sweet, sweet harmony. Actually, they probably DID have sex, maybe once, back in the 80's...... yeah, there's no way they didn't hit that."
Sex on ice
"Why am I so warm and snug? It's blowing a frigging gale!!"
"God, I wish I was back in Liverpool. Or France. When will things get better for me?"
(*sticking out foot and looking at it*) "Eeeeee, I can't BELIEVE that's how the whole Kyle thing started, with touching feet. WILLINGLY. What the HELL got into me?? Shit, LOOK at it! Feet aren't sexy! Actually........ maybe mine aren't THAT bad...... gonna have to face the fear sometime......"
"Aaaaaaaaaaaaargh, getting cold. Go back in! Abort! Abort!"
"If I just let go and fell backwards straight into the bed, would it actually hurt?"
"I wonder if they'll ever do a film where Bond DIES??! How would they have him die? Maybe it's a horrific accident where he face-plants the door after one too many Martinis...... No, it's Bond. It would HAVE to be heroic. And moving. Something that would have people talking about it for years."
"The L Word finale was the lesbian, 2009 version of The Sopranos finale. What an absolute dry-hump that last season was. I could've done better, and I'm basically shit."
"I wonder if, one day, the 'incidents' and 'tension' between me and Kyle will build to the point where we actually fuck each other??"
"I wonder if Lee ever got a new job?"
"I'm not in love" - 10CC
"That has to be one of the most gorgeous songs ever"
"I wonder what a male 'dry orgasm' feels like? Oh my god, weeeeeeeeeeird....."
Ejaculation
"Kyle's actually tasted quite ni...... no! NO! NO!!!! Don't even THINK IT!!!!"
"What year will Corrie stop running?"
"Did you REALLY just think about Corrie after SPERM?? What is WRONG with you??!"
"I think we both know the answer to that...... you haven't been laid PROPERLY since last May!!"
Sex with David
"Aw man. Why the fuck did things turn out so shit? I should totally go back and tell him how I feel."
"Noooooooooooooo, men NEVER like to be told that you like them. It makes them feel uncomfortable and wrong."
"Goddamn him. Fuck that annoying head-fuck motherfucker. I hope he gets punched in the neck."
"Shit, getting cold. Sleep time."
So there you have it. I've come to the conclusion that I am an absolute sex-fanatic headcase who thinks about stupid trivial things TOO MUCH.
My god, I need to see Paul McKenna or someone. I can't go on being this kind of person. No-one likes an obsessive pervert...... do they?
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Current Mood: grumpy
Current Music: "I'm not in love" - Tori Amos. She COVERED it!! What a find!
Last night I had a lovely flashback to the days when I was on my Writing course. I was doing writing exercises ALL the time, we were taken away to the country to be inspired, and I thought I knew exactly what I was doing with my life. But I digress..... There's actually a funny story to be had before I tell you about the flashback:
It was about 2 in the morning after a little "me-time" - which, itself was really annoying, as I kept getting distracted by having the "Bolero" in my head, which consequently made me think of Torvil and Dean. SLIGHTLY distracting, although I wouldn't kick Dean off the ice..... Mmmm. Anyway, afterwards I was breathing slightly loudly, and fearful of the parents hearing me, I whipped open the window and stuck my head out, so they wouldn't hear me. There I was, minding my own business when I heard a rustle from next door's garden. Worrying about burglars, I looked down, only to see what was presumably my next door neighbour's daughter's boyfriend there - having a fag. Until he started glancing around, as if looking for something.
And then I realised I was still breathing - heavily and loudly.
After I'd triple-checked that he'd gone back in, I opened the window as far as possible and made a sort of makeshift seat, by putting a pillow under my thighs and dangling my legs over the window ledge. Scary, but cool. Anyway, I sat there for ages, not even feeling the cold, until I decided to do one of those exercises we did in first year - I can't remember the name, but it's where you write down, TRUTHFULLY, every single thought you have over a 5 minute period. No skimping on the details, every last gory warts-and-all thought that pops into your head. Luckily had a notebook nearby, so here are the results (you can judge them for yourselves). Everytime you see italics, just imagine the song is playing in my head.
"Pleasant Valley Sunday" - The Monkees
"This is gay"
"I'd love to be a cloud..... and just go places without worrying about travel sickness. Or money."
"I wonder how many people in all those houses are having sex right now?"
"I wish I could see some stars to wish on"
Sex
"I wonder if the writers/creators of the "Saw" films ever go to sleep at night thinking; 'Christ, we are some SICK individuals!!'"?
"I wonder if anal sex is really as painful as everyone makes out?"
"Pick it up" - Dem Naughty Boyz
"This is really pretentious"
(*looking West*) "There's a feeling I get as I look to the West..... what song was that? Oh right, Stairway to Heaven. What a tune"
"Stairway to Heaven" - Led Zeppelin
"If I spent ever hour of every day of every month practising for a whole year...... could I ever play the guitar like Jimmy Paige?"
"Yes man"
Sex with David
"Black or White" - Michael Jackson
"I think my favourite film of all time is Austin Powers"
"I love Mum - but why does she have to be such a constantly nagging bitch? Does she get off on it??!"
"What's Belle de Jour up to these days?"
Sex with Gary in a hotel room
"I can't believe he's not even texted, the cock-end. I want to punch him in the middle of his face"
Dark Side of the Moon
"Was that REALLY a hanging Munchkin in the Wizard of Oz?"
"FUCK, I've eaten too much today. I'm gonna EXPLODE!"
"I wonder what certain people find sexy about being defacated on? Do they never stop and think; 'Fucking hell! This is RANK!!"
"I totally wanna go see that Lesbian Vampire Killers"
"Will I ever get to experience proper lesbian sex?"
Lesbian sex
"I really wish I could see David again"
David sex
"I wonder if Kyle's also been obsessively wondering about what happened last week? God, I wonder what his reason for doing it was? I wish I could read minds. Actually no, because then someone could read MY mind and see all the horrible, bitchy, mean and also completely deviant sexual thoughts I have. Yikes."
Watching 'Coupling' and eating a pizza in bed with Gary
"Gary. Eugh. Fuck that deep-fried dick-monger. He can go shag his mum."
"Welcome to England" - Tori Amos
Sex on a piano
Pretty Woman
Sex with Kyle
"Argh, NO!!! Get out of my head!"
"Wow..... there is nothing that feels better than taking a really deep inhale just as the wind starts blowing"
"Maybe I could start my own cult"
"I wonder how old Charlie Chaplain would be if he was still alive?"
"Fuck, how the HELL am I gonna afford Edinburgh? This..... will KILL me"
"I wonder if Danny Wallace is on Twitter?"
"God, I hope I'm eligible for Jobseeker's allowance. £46 a week!! Sweeeeeeeeeeet. Although slightly demeaning..... having to sign on the dole. I've actually become Robert Carlyle. Man, that was a brilliant film! Us Brits really do make some classics....."
"Who would win in a fight between Russell Brand and David Tennant? Yes, one's from Essex and the other's from Scotland..... ooh, tricky one. Plus they're both skinny fuckers, but if they properly fought..... maybe in oil..... heated oil......"
Skinny man-sex
"Bolero" - Ravel
My god, I wish I was Torvil so I could skate so closely and perfectly with Dean. That would be a sweet life. I bet Torvil and Dean would have amazing sex, all moving together in sweet, sweet harmony. Actually, they probably DID have sex, maybe once, back in the 80's...... yeah, there's no way they didn't hit that."
Sex on ice
"Why am I so warm and snug? It's blowing a frigging gale!!"
"God, I wish I was back in Liverpool. Or France. When will things get better for me?"
(*sticking out foot and looking at it*) "Eeeeee, I can't BELIEVE that's how the whole Kyle thing started, with touching feet. WILLINGLY. What the HELL got into me?? Shit, LOOK at it! Feet aren't sexy! Actually........ maybe mine aren't THAT bad...... gonna have to face the fear sometime......"
"Aaaaaaaaaaaaargh, getting cold. Go back in! Abort! Abort!"
"If I just let go and fell backwards straight into the bed, would it actually hurt?"
"I wonder if they'll ever do a film where Bond DIES??! How would they have him die? Maybe it's a horrific accident where he face-plants the door after one too many Martinis...... No, it's Bond. It would HAVE to be heroic. And moving. Something that would have people talking about it for years."
"The L Word finale was the lesbian, 2009 version of The Sopranos finale. What an absolute dry-hump that last season was. I could've done better, and I'm basically shit."
"I wonder if, one day, the 'incidents' and 'tension' between me and Kyle will build to the point where we actually fuck each other??"
"I wonder if Lee ever got a new job?"
"I'm not in love" - 10CC
"That has to be one of the most gorgeous songs ever"
"I wonder what a male 'dry orgasm' feels like? Oh my god, weeeeeeeeeeird....."
Ejaculation
"Kyle's actually tasted quite ni...... no! NO! NO!!!! Don't even THINK IT!!!!"
"What year will Corrie stop running?"
"Did you REALLY just think about Corrie after SPERM?? What is WRONG with you??!"
"I think we both know the answer to that...... you haven't been laid PROPERLY since last May!!"
Sex with David
"Aw man. Why the fuck did things turn out so shit? I should totally go back and tell him how I feel."
"Noooooooooooooo, men NEVER like to be told that you like them. It makes them feel uncomfortable and wrong."
"Goddamn him. Fuck that annoying head-fuck motherfucker. I hope he gets punched in the neck."
"Shit, getting cold. Sleep time."
So there you have it. I've come to the conclusion that I am an absolute sex-fanatic headcase who thinks about stupid trivial things TOO MUCH.
My god, I need to see Paul McKenna or someone. I can't go on being this kind of person. No-one likes an obsessive pervert...... do they?
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Current Mood: grumpy
Current Music: "I'm not in love" - Tori Amos. She COVERED it!! What a find!
Sunday, 22 March 2009
Weekend shenanigans
Dear Diary,
Crikey, for someone who does very little these days, I really do take the piss with this blog, don't I? Having said that, I'd give anything to be out having a life, but hey, then I guess I wouldn't write as much, would I? Hmmm.... So, what has yours truly been up to this weekend?
FRIDAY:
Was not bad. Walked down to the Job Centre, again revelling in a fine sunny day. I'm ashamed to say, I did leave with a leaflet in my hand - but I have the number to ring and now know what to do, so everything's cool. Deliberately wandered around the whole village to stay in the sun as possible - it made me smile how much the village has changed, but still remains the same..... Saw a girl with a lollipop wearing my high school uniform, which made me smile nostalgically. So I went and bought a lollipop of my own - I reckon you haven't lived until you've walked in the sun with a lollipop! Bumped into an old friend, who was looking alarmingly gorgeous.
Went back to the Trees in the evening to claim my wages - and wages there were. Fina-fucking-lly! Decided to stay and piss it away on a few drinks, chatting to Marie behind the bar - who, it has to be said, was very distant with me. Shit, has she heard something about me slagging off her Twattish Boyfriend?? Fucking hell, it's nothing nobody else is saying. And I've said it all to her face before, anyway. AND she's agreed with me. Apparently he's being good to her now. Let's see how long it lasts.
I can't give you a full explanation of why I hate him, we'd be here all night. I'll just show you a conversation I had with Marie about a month ago:
K: "I don't get it - he yells at you, he treats you like shit, he goes off and kisses other women but goes crazy if a bloke so much as LOOKS at you. He gets angry when you talk to other men, and has made you cry about a zillion times....."
M: "Yeah....."
K: "And I hope you don't mind me saying, but....."
M: "No, I know, he's not even that good looking."
K: "Marie, I'll be frank - has this guy got a dick the size of King Kong??"
M: "No."
K: "He must be one HELL of a shag then!"
M: (*pause*) "No....... not really."
K: "......................%$^*&£$?????!!!!!"
M: "He's not even that good at foreplay..... I pretty much have to tell him what to do."
K: "ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS????!"
Why the HELL is she with this lad?? Jesus Christ almighty, I despair. God knows, I love women, but DAMN, we can be a pretty hopeless bunch sometimes. (I am a prime example......)
Anyway, sat at the bar for a few hours. Julie told me I wasn't working on Saturday this week after all (GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!). Chatted to a Hugh Laurie-a-like (NB: don't ever TELL them that, for some reason they don't see it as a compliment. God knows why, I think he's gorgeous!) for ages, who was pretty pissed, but very attractive, and wearing a grey cardie. What an odd sentence. Attempted to chat him up, but he eventually left. Note to self: Never EVER do the chatting up. Got the bus home after 2 drinks, sent a text to Gary, biting the bullet and asking him for a drink on Saturday night - ending with the words: "Don't worry, this is not a pissed-up booty call text!" Hmmm. So often have I read that men just want women to say what they're thinking, and just be frank. But can you imagine if I'd ended the message with; "I want to kiss your face, nibble your ears and eat your sexy man-nipples"?? No chance. He didn't reply anyway.
Got home pissed and grumpy, and watched "What lies beneath" with Mum. Finished a bottle of white wine together. It was cool - must have more Mother-Daughter film nights more often. Oh, and I told her about my hours at the pub being dropped - she was surprisingly reassuring.
SATURDAY:
Was quite cool. Got up nice and early (*groan*) to go into town with Mum, in preparation for her dinner party - which I was now attending due to having Saturday night free. Took a wander round the fish and meat market, which I LOVE, all those fantastic smells, sights, colours and noises. Markets really are the greatest multi-sensory places in the WORLD. God, I sound like a creative writing exercise, but it's true. Plus, I LOVE my fish and meat (no obvious jokes, please!)
Spent the afternoon watching the rugby with Dad before running down to the shops to get a Mother's Day card and some flowers (yes, I'm a bad, dis-organised daughter). Kyle phoned on the way home - had a lovely chat, mostly about Mother's Day and where to try hunting for MJ tickets.
The dinner party went down a storm. I sat in the lounge and watched "Notting Hill" and ate what felt like 3 helpings of everything. And marvelled at the comedic genius that is Rhys Ifans. Who DOESN'T love that Pandora's Box joke.....?
Had to go to bed pretty early - felt so full I though my kidneys would rupture. And food doesn't even GO near the kidneys! That's how bad it was......
Oh, forgot to mention - Gary replied to my text in the morning, he was working Saturday night and couldn't come out. But what pisses me off is that everytime he's said no because of work - he never once suggested another time. He clearly isn't as interested as he makes out. Right, fuck him. That's it, I'm out. I'm done trying with him. If he wants me to come over, if he wants me full stop, he can fucking well BEG me. Balls to work, I've been blown off 5 times (and not even in a good way), that to me is a pretty fucking clear hint that it's not gonna happen. I'm finished chasing him, he's missed his chance. If he sends me about 28 texts and messages asking me, then fine, I'll go. But until then, he is DEAD to me.
SUNDAY:
Today was nice. Was shouted out of bed to go to Auntie's house for lunch. Had a quick shower and wore my Cheryl Cole dress with matching killer heels. Wrote the card and presented it (with the flowers and a hand-made gift-card procclaiming that I will cook all meals for a week) to Mum, about 5 minutes before we were hustled out the door. Yes, I'm dis-organised. Not to mention cheap (*bows head in shame*).
Anyway, got to Auntie's and had a gorgeous roast dinner. It was AMAZING to see Grandma again....... even if she didn't think I'd lost weight. Ah, the older generation and their speak-your-mind attitude, how I love it! After the meal we sat chilling out, listening to Bob Marley, watching the footie and playing games. All in all, a pretty sweet day!
Shaun rang when we got home, it was AWESOME to speak to him after so long. He seems fine, moving on to the next place soon.....
Watched Dancing on Ice with Mum. Ray won, which I was pretty chuffed about. Yes, I get jollies off his accent, but at the end of the day, he was the best skater. He moved like poetry! (Mum disagrees, but then, no-one in my family likes Scousers apart from me)
SO, now I'm lying in bed, knackered and full. And Gary's popped up online, shall I wait and see if he talks to me? Or will he realise that hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.....? (*sinister eyebrow-raise and moustache-twirl*) HA! Just let him TRY and talk to me, I'm gonna be frostier than a snowman's left testicle.
(What's the betting he probably won't speak to me now? I'm gonna be SO embarrassed if that's the case......)
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
PS: He didn't speak to me, the cunt. Men are such dick-faces.
Current Mood: fuller than a pregnant woman's bladder
Current Music: "You do something to me" - Paul Weller
Crikey, for someone who does very little these days, I really do take the piss with this blog, don't I? Having said that, I'd give anything to be out having a life, but hey, then I guess I wouldn't write as much, would I? Hmmm.... So, what has yours truly been up to this weekend?
FRIDAY:
Was not bad. Walked down to the Job Centre, again revelling in a fine sunny day. I'm ashamed to say, I did leave with a leaflet in my hand - but I have the number to ring and now know what to do, so everything's cool. Deliberately wandered around the whole village to stay in the sun as possible - it made me smile how much the village has changed, but still remains the same..... Saw a girl with a lollipop wearing my high school uniform, which made me smile nostalgically. So I went and bought a lollipop of my own - I reckon you haven't lived until you've walked in the sun with a lollipop! Bumped into an old friend, who was looking alarmingly gorgeous.
Went back to the Trees in the evening to claim my wages - and wages there were. Fina-fucking-lly! Decided to stay and piss it away on a few drinks, chatting to Marie behind the bar - who, it has to be said, was very distant with me. Shit, has she heard something about me slagging off her Twattish Boyfriend?? Fucking hell, it's nothing nobody else is saying. And I've said it all to her face before, anyway. AND she's agreed with me. Apparently he's being good to her now. Let's see how long it lasts.
I can't give you a full explanation of why I hate him, we'd be here all night. I'll just show you a conversation I had with Marie about a month ago:
K: "I don't get it - he yells at you, he treats you like shit, he goes off and kisses other women but goes crazy if a bloke so much as LOOKS at you. He gets angry when you talk to other men, and has made you cry about a zillion times....."
M: "Yeah....."
K: "And I hope you don't mind me saying, but....."
M: "No, I know, he's not even that good looking."
K: "Marie, I'll be frank - has this guy got a dick the size of King Kong??"
M: "No."
K: "He must be one HELL of a shag then!"
M: (*pause*) "No....... not really."
K: "......................%$^*&£$?????!!!!!"
M: "He's not even that good at foreplay..... I pretty much have to tell him what to do."
K: "ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS????!"
Why the HELL is she with this lad?? Jesus Christ almighty, I despair. God knows, I love women, but DAMN, we can be a pretty hopeless bunch sometimes. (I am a prime example......)
Anyway, sat at the bar for a few hours. Julie told me I wasn't working on Saturday this week after all (GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!). Chatted to a Hugh Laurie-a-like (NB: don't ever TELL them that, for some reason they don't see it as a compliment. God knows why, I think he's gorgeous!) for ages, who was pretty pissed, but very attractive, and wearing a grey cardie. What an odd sentence. Attempted to chat him up, but he eventually left. Note to self: Never EVER do the chatting up. Got the bus home after 2 drinks, sent a text to Gary, biting the bullet and asking him for a drink on Saturday night - ending with the words: "Don't worry, this is not a pissed-up booty call text!" Hmmm. So often have I read that men just want women to say what they're thinking, and just be frank. But can you imagine if I'd ended the message with; "I want to kiss your face, nibble your ears and eat your sexy man-nipples"?? No chance. He didn't reply anyway.
Got home pissed and grumpy, and watched "What lies beneath" with Mum. Finished a bottle of white wine together. It was cool - must have more Mother-Daughter film nights more often. Oh, and I told her about my hours at the pub being dropped - she was surprisingly reassuring.
SATURDAY:
Was quite cool. Got up nice and early (*groan*) to go into town with Mum, in preparation for her dinner party - which I was now attending due to having Saturday night free. Took a wander round the fish and meat market, which I LOVE, all those fantastic smells, sights, colours and noises. Markets really are the greatest multi-sensory places in the WORLD. God, I sound like a creative writing exercise, but it's true. Plus, I LOVE my fish and meat (no obvious jokes, please!)
Spent the afternoon watching the rugby with Dad before running down to the shops to get a Mother's Day card and some flowers (yes, I'm a bad, dis-organised daughter). Kyle phoned on the way home - had a lovely chat, mostly about Mother's Day and where to try hunting for MJ tickets.
The dinner party went down a storm. I sat in the lounge and watched "Notting Hill" and ate what felt like 3 helpings of everything. And marvelled at the comedic genius that is Rhys Ifans. Who DOESN'T love that Pandora's Box joke.....?
Had to go to bed pretty early - felt so full I though my kidneys would rupture. And food doesn't even GO near the kidneys! That's how bad it was......
Oh, forgot to mention - Gary replied to my text in the morning, he was working Saturday night and couldn't come out. But what pisses me off is that everytime he's said no because of work - he never once suggested another time. He clearly isn't as interested as he makes out. Right, fuck him. That's it, I'm out. I'm done trying with him. If he wants me to come over, if he wants me full stop, he can fucking well BEG me. Balls to work, I've been blown off 5 times (and not even in a good way), that to me is a pretty fucking clear hint that it's not gonna happen. I'm finished chasing him, he's missed his chance. If he sends me about 28 texts and messages asking me, then fine, I'll go. But until then, he is DEAD to me.
SUNDAY:
Today was nice. Was shouted out of bed to go to Auntie's house for lunch. Had a quick shower and wore my Cheryl Cole dress with matching killer heels. Wrote the card and presented it (with the flowers and a hand-made gift-card procclaiming that I will cook all meals for a week) to Mum, about 5 minutes before we were hustled out the door. Yes, I'm dis-organised. Not to mention cheap (*bows head in shame*).
Anyway, got to Auntie's and had a gorgeous roast dinner. It was AMAZING to see Grandma again....... even if she didn't think I'd lost weight. Ah, the older generation and their speak-your-mind attitude, how I love it! After the meal we sat chilling out, listening to Bob Marley, watching the footie and playing games. All in all, a pretty sweet day!
Shaun rang when we got home, it was AWESOME to speak to him after so long. He seems fine, moving on to the next place soon.....
Watched Dancing on Ice with Mum. Ray won, which I was pretty chuffed about. Yes, I get jollies off his accent, but at the end of the day, he was the best skater. He moved like poetry! (Mum disagrees, but then, no-one in my family likes Scousers apart from me)
SO, now I'm lying in bed, knackered and full. And Gary's popped up online, shall I wait and see if he talks to me? Or will he realise that hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.....? (*sinister eyebrow-raise and moustache-twirl*) HA! Just let him TRY and talk to me, I'm gonna be frostier than a snowman's left testicle.
(What's the betting he probably won't speak to me now? I'm gonna be SO embarrassed if that's the case......)
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
PS: He didn't speak to me, the cunt. Men are such dick-faces.
Current Mood: fuller than a pregnant woman's bladder
Current Music: "You do something to me" - Paul Weller
Thursday, 19 March 2009
Sun is shining
Dear Diary,
Today was a WHALE of a day! Just kidding. But in all seriousness, I would like to share some well-researched knowledge with you. No doubt you already knew it. No doubt you think it all the time. No doubt that it may not be as profound as Churchill's speeches or as shocking as Einstein's revelations, or even the twists in the "Saw" films. Maybe you already know this, maybe you don't. But damn it, I'm-a gonna share it with you anyway. Are you ready? Here we go:
The sun........ makes EVERYTHING better.
Let me just pause to look mystical and wise for a second (pointless, I know, as you can't exactly SEE me). I'm fully aware that I sound like some pretentious flower-child, and the truth is..... maybe I am. But think about it! All I did was walk in the sun, and it felt like the most glorious, life-affirming thing I've ever done.
Out of sheer boredom and cabin fever, I took a walk down to the village to get some hair dye (I did a shocking job of the last one), find some Sign Language books in the library (I found two. But my bloody fines stopped me taking them out) and cancel my direct debit to the RSPCA (heartless, I know, but I have a POUND in my bank account. You do the maths!) But walking back, the sun was beaming down, it was one of those hazy days, and just for those lovely 15 minutes, I felt like I didn't have any problems whatsoever. They all became material, and I started seeing things differently and feeling 20 times better. ABOUT EVERYTHING!!!
Yes, I'm living at home, and yearn to break free. But I have the protection of my family and a roof over my head. I have endless supplies of ingrediants to learn how to cook with - a luxury I could only DREAM of, a year ago. Yes, it was going to be a while before I lived my dream and made it to France. But it's a COUNTRY, it's still going to be there in a few month's time! (Unless I get VERY unlucky and we suffer some kind of seismic incident where the continent plates shift and break apart) Yes, I am swamped with unemployment with an overdraft and student loan to pay off, in trying times. But for now, I was walking along, listening to music, gazing at the sky, breathing in that lovely smell that comes with a sunny day and smiling every time the wind blew. And yes, that's corny, but there are plenty of people in the world - how many were as lucky as I was then? I'm sure in certain awful places, there are people who've never even SEEN the sun. I tell you something - for nothing but a piece of nature, the sun sure makes you think about things.......
Until I nearly walked straight into a lampost. But I'll just pretend no-one saw me......
Anyway, the rest of the day was as nondescript as ever. I cooked tea, which received my second 10/10. Yeah, you heard me. I learnt several more sign language phrases online. Dad took me to the Trees to get my wages, only for them to have been delayed AGAIN. For fuck's sake. They're APPARENTLY coming tomorrow. BULL. SHIT. I've got a shift on Saturday, if I don't have them by then, I'm fucked. I have an Edinburgh ticket to book!!
No word from Gary..... Apparently my last entry was a little misleading - just to make things clear, I was NEVER going to sack Paris off to go hang out with him, it was just one of those crazy moments where he said something and I temporarily thought "Oooh! Idea!" But no. Not seriously. I wouldn't even cancel France for David Tennant. I may be a ridiculous human being, but not to THAT extent. And the calling a week-long booty call "romantic" was ironic...... even I'M not that naeive.
Tomorrow I'm off to the Job Centre. They can shove leaflets at me all they want, but this time I'm not LEAVING until I'm signed up to receive JobSeeker's allowance. This time I'm going into battle sober, and damn it, I WILL be claiming my £46 a week. Fuck you, establishment!!!
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Current Mood: rested
Current Music: "Pick it up" - Dem Naughty Boyz. TUNE!!!
Today was a WHALE of a day! Just kidding. But in all seriousness, I would like to share some well-researched knowledge with you. No doubt you already knew it. No doubt you think it all the time. No doubt that it may not be as profound as Churchill's speeches or as shocking as Einstein's revelations, or even the twists in the "Saw" films. Maybe you already know this, maybe you don't. But damn it, I'm-a gonna share it with you anyway. Are you ready? Here we go:
The sun........ makes EVERYTHING better.
Let me just pause to look mystical and wise for a second (pointless, I know, as you can't exactly SEE me). I'm fully aware that I sound like some pretentious flower-child, and the truth is..... maybe I am. But think about it! All I did was walk in the sun, and it felt like the most glorious, life-affirming thing I've ever done.
Out of sheer boredom and cabin fever, I took a walk down to the village to get some hair dye (I did a shocking job of the last one), find some Sign Language books in the library (I found two. But my bloody fines stopped me taking them out) and cancel my direct debit to the RSPCA (heartless, I know, but I have a POUND in my bank account. You do the maths!) But walking back, the sun was beaming down, it was one of those hazy days, and just for those lovely 15 minutes, I felt like I didn't have any problems whatsoever. They all became material, and I started seeing things differently and feeling 20 times better. ABOUT EVERYTHING!!!
Yes, I'm living at home, and yearn to break free. But I have the protection of my family and a roof over my head. I have endless supplies of ingrediants to learn how to cook with - a luxury I could only DREAM of, a year ago. Yes, it was going to be a while before I lived my dream and made it to France. But it's a COUNTRY, it's still going to be there in a few month's time! (Unless I get VERY unlucky and we suffer some kind of seismic incident where the continent plates shift and break apart) Yes, I am swamped with unemployment with an overdraft and student loan to pay off, in trying times. But for now, I was walking along, listening to music, gazing at the sky, breathing in that lovely smell that comes with a sunny day and smiling every time the wind blew. And yes, that's corny, but there are plenty of people in the world - how many were as lucky as I was then? I'm sure in certain awful places, there are people who've never even SEEN the sun. I tell you something - for nothing but a piece of nature, the sun sure makes you think about things.......
Until I nearly walked straight into a lampost. But I'll just pretend no-one saw me......
Anyway, the rest of the day was as nondescript as ever. I cooked tea, which received my second 10/10. Yeah, you heard me. I learnt several more sign language phrases online. Dad took me to the Trees to get my wages, only for them to have been delayed AGAIN. For fuck's sake. They're APPARENTLY coming tomorrow. BULL. SHIT. I've got a shift on Saturday, if I don't have them by then, I'm fucked. I have an Edinburgh ticket to book!!
No word from Gary..... Apparently my last entry was a little misleading - just to make things clear, I was NEVER going to sack Paris off to go hang out with him, it was just one of those crazy moments where he said something and I temporarily thought "Oooh! Idea!" But no. Not seriously. I wouldn't even cancel France for David Tennant. I may be a ridiculous human being, but not to THAT extent. And the calling a week-long booty call "romantic" was ironic...... even I'M not that naeive.
Tomorrow I'm off to the Job Centre. They can shove leaflets at me all they want, but this time I'm not LEAVING until I'm signed up to receive JobSeeker's allowance. This time I'm going into battle sober, and damn it, I WILL be claiming my £46 a week. Fuck you, establishment!!!
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Current Mood: rested
Current Music: "Pick it up" - Dem Naughty Boyz. TUNE!!!
Wednesday, 18 March 2009
Continued.......
Dear Diary,
Just returned from shift at the pub - both depressed and chuffed in equal measures. Depressed because afterwards the Landlady and I started a little chat. She very vehemently exclaimed that she didn't think I should be working there - not because I'm bad, but because she thinks I'm "wasted" (Metaphorically, for those of you who thought I was unprofessional enough to turn up to work pissed). She said that after going to uni and getting a DEGREE, she didn't want to see me stuck in a pub all the way into my 30's. She's got a point. Although I didn't REALLY feel it was polite to mention that I just saw it as a filler, an easy way of getting money. Also told her about my plans for France - which I hadn't exactly been forthcoming about till tonight. Her reply? Don't bother.
Right, OK, let's just take my hopes and dreams and throw them away in one sentence, shall we? But upon discussion, she had an alarmingly valid point - £1000 will NOT last me that long in a capital city, France is affected just as bad, and therefore it will be INCREDIBLY difficult to just walk over and get a job (THIS is why I should actually watch the news - I thought it was just England that was fucked), and most of all, as she put it, this is not just some fairytale. I can't just run away and live the life of my dreams, all butterflies and sunshine and literary genius evolving in cafe's and fields. I'll just be one girl, walking around on my own, not knowing what to do until my money dwindles and I have to return. And then what? My grand will be gone, and my jobs sure as shit won't be held open for me. BOLLOCKS!! Maybe I shoud've thought this through.....
On a cheerier note, I made over a fiver in tips (it's the Jennifer Beals top. Definately) and manage to hold whole conversations with the 3 deaf punters who come in every week. Actually, don't think I mentioned - I looked up British Sign Language online last week and taught myself a few basics. Just thought it would come in handy..... and it did! Had a nice, if slightly hindered, little chat, while the other (hearing) punters looked on, suitibly impressed, and I felt a little glow of happiness and good deed-ery. Have decided to take a Sign Language course, or gain at least some qualification - it'd be a handy skill to have, and would look wicked on a CV. Not to mention there's probably at LEAST a few jobs going somewhere in that field - I mean, how many people these days would be willing to learn Signing from SCRATCH??! Well, apart from small town ex-students with lust for languages and time to kill......
I've just realised, I never told you what happened with Gary. Well, "nothing much" is the honest answer to that question - just another online chat. Started off with "Hi gorgeous," which is as sure a way as any to get my attention, so naturally, we were off. He asked me why he wasn't informed of my trip back to the city - um.... maybe because it was only one night and I was too busy having a BEAST of a catch-up with a best mate? Well anyway, carried on, until halfway through the (slightly naughty) conversation, he revealed that he was in fact in the library...... SAT NEXT TO ZARA. Jesus!! Do men have NO CONSCIENCE??! Apparently she couldn't see his screen, but needless to say, I was bloody careful after that.....
Started chatting again after he got home - once again getting hot and heavy. Call me unimaginative (which, considering what I want to do, is probably the WORST thing you could call me) but I was starting to run out of sexy things to say after MONTHS of the same thing. Clearly not a problem HE experiences, he has the David-knack of simply being able to type a mere sentence on a screen...... and turn my knees (and other parts) to jelly. The long and short of his conversation was that he finished uni in 3 weeks, and invited me to come over - the reason being that I REFUSE to go now, as one of his flatmates knows Zara, and I couldn't risk her seeing me with him. But if everyone had LEFT........ Clearly the hotel idea won't go anywhere - and I could imagine it'd be a pain in the arse anyway, not to be able to roll out of bed and whack a DVD on, or make a sandwich. Not that that's what I do post-coitus, but you know what I mean......
But then a very strange thing happened. I told him about 6 months in France, and his response was "Awww, what? Why?" So I replied; "Why not? Why would I possibly stay in England?" His reply? "So you could come round here and spend every day riding me."
Now hold up.
What in the bloody frigging hellfire was THAT supposed to mean??? He's suggesting I sack off my trip to France to go spend time with him? First of all, why would he say that? I'm sure he knows we're both only in this for a shag (Unless he's not.....?). Second, that's a fairly romantic (well, kind of) thing to say, I mean, he mentioned a few weeks! Normally men can't wait to get away once they've ejaculated. What's up with that? Unless he was exaggerating or joking. But still! Can't say I didn't get a little excited at the thought. Oooh, maybe things will work out after all! Maybe we'll end up together and happy, and spending all our days doing deviant sex and only getting out of bed to earn some money or get a pizza! Sounds like a sweet life......
It's so annoying how crazy he drives me (Ugh, that sentence looks WEIRD grammatically.....). Everytime we have these "chats" I just want to grab him - preferably by the balls - and shout; "Why don't we stop talking and fucking well DO something about it??!" Ugh ugh ugh. I'm just a big ball of anxiety, confusion and frustraion at the moment...... and Friday night didn't help things. I'm going crazy as it is, stuck here, and I want to get out. Even if - like Friday - it's just for one night.
I get paid tomorrow - I'm literally on the brink of finding out his address, jumping a train and turning up at his with 155 condoms and a bottle of cider. WHETHER HE LIKES IT OR NOT.
Shit. Must calm down, don't want to look like a man-rapist.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Current Mood: sleepy
Current Music: "Kissed by a rose" - Seal
Just returned from shift at the pub - both depressed and chuffed in equal measures. Depressed because afterwards the Landlady and I started a little chat. She very vehemently exclaimed that she didn't think I should be working there - not because I'm bad, but because she thinks I'm "wasted" (Metaphorically, for those of you who thought I was unprofessional enough to turn up to work pissed). She said that after going to uni and getting a DEGREE, she didn't want to see me stuck in a pub all the way into my 30's. She's got a point. Although I didn't REALLY feel it was polite to mention that I just saw it as a filler, an easy way of getting money. Also told her about my plans for France - which I hadn't exactly been forthcoming about till tonight. Her reply? Don't bother.
Right, OK, let's just take my hopes and dreams and throw them away in one sentence, shall we? But upon discussion, she had an alarmingly valid point - £1000 will NOT last me that long in a capital city, France is affected just as bad, and therefore it will be INCREDIBLY difficult to just walk over and get a job (THIS is why I should actually watch the news - I thought it was just England that was fucked), and most of all, as she put it, this is not just some fairytale. I can't just run away and live the life of my dreams, all butterflies and sunshine and literary genius evolving in cafe's and fields. I'll just be one girl, walking around on my own, not knowing what to do until my money dwindles and I have to return. And then what? My grand will be gone, and my jobs sure as shit won't be held open for me. BOLLOCKS!! Maybe I shoud've thought this through.....
On a cheerier note, I made over a fiver in tips (it's the Jennifer Beals top. Definately) and manage to hold whole conversations with the 3 deaf punters who come in every week. Actually, don't think I mentioned - I looked up British Sign Language online last week and taught myself a few basics. Just thought it would come in handy..... and it did! Had a nice, if slightly hindered, little chat, while the other (hearing) punters looked on, suitibly impressed, and I felt a little glow of happiness and good deed-ery. Have decided to take a Sign Language course, or gain at least some qualification - it'd be a handy skill to have, and would look wicked on a CV. Not to mention there's probably at LEAST a few jobs going somewhere in that field - I mean, how many people these days would be willing to learn Signing from SCRATCH??! Well, apart from small town ex-students with lust for languages and time to kill......
I've just realised, I never told you what happened with Gary. Well, "nothing much" is the honest answer to that question - just another online chat. Started off with "Hi gorgeous," which is as sure a way as any to get my attention, so naturally, we were off. He asked me why he wasn't informed of my trip back to the city - um.... maybe because it was only one night and I was too busy having a BEAST of a catch-up with a best mate? Well anyway, carried on, until halfway through the (slightly naughty) conversation, he revealed that he was in fact in the library...... SAT NEXT TO ZARA. Jesus!! Do men have NO CONSCIENCE??! Apparently she couldn't see his screen, but needless to say, I was bloody careful after that.....
Started chatting again after he got home - once again getting hot and heavy. Call me unimaginative (which, considering what I want to do, is probably the WORST thing you could call me) but I was starting to run out of sexy things to say after MONTHS of the same thing. Clearly not a problem HE experiences, he has the David-knack of simply being able to type a mere sentence on a screen...... and turn my knees (and other parts) to jelly. The long and short of his conversation was that he finished uni in 3 weeks, and invited me to come over - the reason being that I REFUSE to go now, as one of his flatmates knows Zara, and I couldn't risk her seeing me with him. But if everyone had LEFT........ Clearly the hotel idea won't go anywhere - and I could imagine it'd be a pain in the arse anyway, not to be able to roll out of bed and whack a DVD on, or make a sandwich. Not that that's what I do post-coitus, but you know what I mean......
But then a very strange thing happened. I told him about 6 months in France, and his response was "Awww, what? Why?" So I replied; "Why not? Why would I possibly stay in England?" His reply? "So you could come round here and spend every day riding me."
Now hold up.
What in the bloody frigging hellfire was THAT supposed to mean??? He's suggesting I sack off my trip to France to go spend time with him? First of all, why would he say that? I'm sure he knows we're both only in this for a shag (Unless he's not.....?). Second, that's a fairly romantic (well, kind of) thing to say, I mean, he mentioned a few weeks! Normally men can't wait to get away once they've ejaculated. What's up with that? Unless he was exaggerating or joking. But still! Can't say I didn't get a little excited at the thought. Oooh, maybe things will work out after all! Maybe we'll end up together and happy, and spending all our days doing deviant sex and only getting out of bed to earn some money or get a pizza! Sounds like a sweet life......
It's so annoying how crazy he drives me (Ugh, that sentence looks WEIRD grammatically.....). Everytime we have these "chats" I just want to grab him - preferably by the balls - and shout; "Why don't we stop talking and fucking well DO something about it??!" Ugh ugh ugh. I'm just a big ball of anxiety, confusion and frustraion at the moment...... and Friday night didn't help things. I'm going crazy as it is, stuck here, and I want to get out. Even if - like Friday - it's just for one night.
I get paid tomorrow - I'm literally on the brink of finding out his address, jumping a train and turning up at his with 155 condoms and a bottle of cider. WHETHER HE LIKES IT OR NOT.
Shit. Must calm down, don't want to look like a man-rapist.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Current Mood: sleepy
Current Music: "Kissed by a rose" - Seal
Confusion afoot.....
Dear Diary,
Yesterday and today I pondered several things:
Do you REALLY need a permit to work in France if you already live in the E.U and just want a waitress job?
Is there REALLY an amount of drink large/strong enough to turn a gay man straight for a night? (Or just 10 minutes....)
Will I EVER get 1000 songs on my Ipod?
Until I leave the country, will things EVER get better?
Will Tori Amos EVER stop being mind-blowingly fantastic?
Is there EVER a possibility of me getting Michael Jackson tickets?
HAVE I lost weight???
WHY, after getting nothing good for months (oh, you know what I mean!) am I suddenly inundated with chat off one particular flame?
And WHY, if he wants to do me as much as he says, and is the one with a job and a student loan, have we not gone to a motherfricking HOTEL yet???!
Ahem. An innutitive person would say I had quite a...... pondrous day yesterday. I jest. It wasn't THAT bad, but as I'm sure you know by now - I have a habit of dramatising and attempting to make things more interesting than they actually are. I'll start at the beginning:
Fed up of my scruffy joggers and battered trainers, Mum dragged me off shopping for new ones. Christ, it's like being in Primary school all over again. However, upon entering the shop, my face lit up as I discovered 3 items of clothing that I not only was CERTAIN I needed, but also could not fully contemplate living my life without. An 80's style off-one-shoulder top, some "Ass jeans" (dark blue and tight to boot) and a 50's sailor-girl dress, knee-length, black, in at the hips, flared at the bottom, black and white 80's-esque stripes on the top. And my GOD, they were fine. Ever search your whole life (or maybe just a few months) for that ONE dress you have in mind? You know what I'm talking about - THE. DRESS. Yeah.....
Tried it on, and instantly my boobs were bigger, my stomach and waist were smaller, and my legs were longer. All for £12. Mum was damn near speechless when she saw it. Not to mention the Ass Jeans, which gave me the bum of a 15 year-old. Hallelujah!! Was silently panicking about how I was going to justify NOT buying everything (as I could only spare £20 to bring with me) I loved the look of - but in a fit of inexplicable generosity, Mum decided to treat me. I actually fainted inside. Outwardly, I shouted a highly censored version of "FUCK, YES!!!!"
So, came home with 80's top, THE DRESS, pair of joggers, trainers, ass-jeans, pair of leggins and a Cheryl Cole-esque bright pink clutch bag. Not bad, considering I only spent £19! Feel slightly guilty though..... have a feeling Mum knows I'm not entirely secure, financially..... Oh well. NEW CLOTHES!!! Tried everything on back home, prompting the question "Have I REALLY lost weight....?"
Went to the gym straight after and got a promise from Stephanie that she would draw me up a diet plan, free of charge. I'm starting to seriously love that girl.
Did some more research into France, although, when you really look into things, it doesn't look that easy, especially the getting-work part. And the cost. As a child, I never really put much thought into how much holidays actually COST. And this, among many other varied reasons, is why I don't want to grow up. Because you have to learn stuff like this, and do things for yourself. Grrrrr........
Tried half-arsedly to find MJ tickets online, still no luck. Unless I find, seduce and marry a squillionaire, VERY quickly..... They're now offering Hospitality Packages where you get a champagne and red carpet reception, tickets to the afterparty, etc... etc... for £750. JESUS!!! First of all - a gig is a gig. We are ALL walking into the same arena, a little bit of material from your car to the door isn't that necessary. Second - champagne gives headaches. If you're going to take that road, why not just buy some cheap Cava and a fruity liqeur from the local Tesco Metro? I can do a MEAN Kir Royale. Third - I guarantee you won't find a more fun afterparty than the one's taking place at the local pubs/people's flats. £750?? What, is Michael himself going to TURN UP?? IS HE??! Well, no, he's not. Because Ticketmaster told me. So what are you REALLY paying for, you rich bastards? Hmmmm?? Exactly.
Excited text from Kyle - would you believe it, Tori Amos is releasing her 10TH ALBUM! Can the woman do ANY wrong? It's called "Abnormally Attracted to Sin," which sounds sexily dangerous. And NO cracks about it sounding like my life, please..... Hehe.
Anyway, he's emailed me the first song that's been leaked out, which is called "Welcome to England" and is pretty goddamn gorgeous. How I've missed her sweet, sweet tones! Welcome back, Tori.
Still haven't worked last Friday out in my head, although I'm not thinking about it quite so much anymore. It's not like this has NEVER happened...... it just never went this far, before. I've looked at this from every angle, and I just can't fathom it. Even if he just wanted an experimental (not to mention fucking mental) play-around, that doesn't explain why he got hard. Does this mean he's bisexual? Or was it the drink? I know I should just stop thinking about things and go with the flow, but I'm just so baffled by the whole escapade. Hmmm....
Oh shit, I've got to get ready for work. I didn't even get to tell you about the latest Gary conversation.... not that it was any different from usual. Oh well, I'll be back later! It's a sweet, sunny evening, I'm wearing my lovely new clothes and I'm walking to work. Feeling more positive today!
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Current Mood: peaceful
Current Music: "Welcome to England" - Tori Amos. Mmmmm.......
Yesterday and today I pondered several things:
Do you REALLY need a permit to work in France if you already live in the E.U and just want a waitress job?
Is there REALLY an amount of drink large/strong enough to turn a gay man straight for a night? (Or just 10 minutes....)
Will I EVER get 1000 songs on my Ipod?
Until I leave the country, will things EVER get better?
Will Tori Amos EVER stop being mind-blowingly fantastic?
Is there EVER a possibility of me getting Michael Jackson tickets?
HAVE I lost weight???
WHY, after getting nothing good for months (oh, you know what I mean!) am I suddenly inundated with chat off one particular flame?
And WHY, if he wants to do me as much as he says, and is the one with a job and a student loan, have we not gone to a motherfricking HOTEL yet???!
Ahem. An innutitive person would say I had quite a...... pondrous day yesterday. I jest. It wasn't THAT bad, but as I'm sure you know by now - I have a habit of dramatising and attempting to make things more interesting than they actually are. I'll start at the beginning:
Fed up of my scruffy joggers and battered trainers, Mum dragged me off shopping for new ones. Christ, it's like being in Primary school all over again. However, upon entering the shop, my face lit up as I discovered 3 items of clothing that I not only was CERTAIN I needed, but also could not fully contemplate living my life without. An 80's style off-one-shoulder top, some "Ass jeans" (dark blue and tight to boot) and a 50's sailor-girl dress, knee-length, black, in at the hips, flared at the bottom, black and white 80's-esque stripes on the top. And my GOD, they were fine. Ever search your whole life (or maybe just a few months) for that ONE dress you have in mind? You know what I'm talking about - THE. DRESS. Yeah.....
Tried it on, and instantly my boobs were bigger, my stomach and waist were smaller, and my legs were longer. All for £12. Mum was damn near speechless when she saw it. Not to mention the Ass Jeans, which gave me the bum of a 15 year-old. Hallelujah!! Was silently panicking about how I was going to justify NOT buying everything (as I could only spare £20 to bring with me) I loved the look of - but in a fit of inexplicable generosity, Mum decided to treat me. I actually fainted inside. Outwardly, I shouted a highly censored version of "FUCK, YES!!!!"
So, came home with 80's top, THE DRESS, pair of joggers, trainers, ass-jeans, pair of leggins and a Cheryl Cole-esque bright pink clutch bag. Not bad, considering I only spent £19! Feel slightly guilty though..... have a feeling Mum knows I'm not entirely secure, financially..... Oh well. NEW CLOTHES!!! Tried everything on back home, prompting the question "Have I REALLY lost weight....?"
Went to the gym straight after and got a promise from Stephanie that she would draw me up a diet plan, free of charge. I'm starting to seriously love that girl.
Did some more research into France, although, when you really look into things, it doesn't look that easy, especially the getting-work part. And the cost. As a child, I never really put much thought into how much holidays actually COST. And this, among many other varied reasons, is why I don't want to grow up. Because you have to learn stuff like this, and do things for yourself. Grrrrr........
Tried half-arsedly to find MJ tickets online, still no luck. Unless I find, seduce and marry a squillionaire, VERY quickly..... They're now offering Hospitality Packages where you get a champagne and red carpet reception, tickets to the afterparty, etc... etc... for £750. JESUS!!! First of all - a gig is a gig. We are ALL walking into the same arena, a little bit of material from your car to the door isn't that necessary. Second - champagne gives headaches. If you're going to take that road, why not just buy some cheap Cava and a fruity liqeur from the local Tesco Metro? I can do a MEAN Kir Royale. Third - I guarantee you won't find a more fun afterparty than the one's taking place at the local pubs/people's flats. £750?? What, is Michael himself going to TURN UP?? IS HE??! Well, no, he's not. Because Ticketmaster told me. So what are you REALLY paying for, you rich bastards? Hmmmm?? Exactly.
Excited text from Kyle - would you believe it, Tori Amos is releasing her 10TH ALBUM! Can the woman do ANY wrong? It's called "Abnormally Attracted to Sin," which sounds sexily dangerous. And NO cracks about it sounding like my life, please..... Hehe.
Anyway, he's emailed me the first song that's been leaked out, which is called "Welcome to England" and is pretty goddamn gorgeous. How I've missed her sweet, sweet tones! Welcome back, Tori.
Still haven't worked last Friday out in my head, although I'm not thinking about it quite so much anymore. It's not like this has NEVER happened...... it just never went this far, before. I've looked at this from every angle, and I just can't fathom it. Even if he just wanted an experimental (not to mention fucking mental) play-around, that doesn't explain why he got hard. Does this mean he's bisexual? Or was it the drink? I know I should just stop thinking about things and go with the flow, but I'm just so baffled by the whole escapade. Hmmm....
Oh shit, I've got to get ready for work. I didn't even get to tell you about the latest Gary conversation.... not that it was any different from usual. Oh well, I'll be back later! It's a sweet, sunny evening, I'm wearing my lovely new clothes and I'm walking to work. Feeling more positive today!
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Current Mood: peaceful
Current Music: "Welcome to England" - Tori Amos. Mmmmm.......
Monday, 16 March 2009
3-day hangovers
Dear Diary,
Following that mental entry (MENTRY!) on Saturday, not much has happened between then and now. Had a shift at the Trees at 5, but due to gabbing with Kyle over toast and him inadvertantly sending me the LONGEST POSSIBLE route to the train station (despite this being HIS city) I missed my train, and consequently only had about 8 minutes between arriving home and going back out again. Needless to say, spent the whole of my very long, boring and quiet shift completely hungover, still utterly baffled/turned on, and having to munch on Smarties and pork scratchings to stave off rickets, due to missing tea. I don't even like pork scratchings.
The shift was awful anyway. Had a complete chav dickhead in, who made me lie for him every one of the 5 times his girlfriend rang the pub looking for him, annoyed the hell out of everyone and nearly beat up his best mate. Then there was the pissed-up platinum blonde friend of the landlady, who seemed convinced for half of the night that I was a distant niece. Then there was Julie - who at one point actually had to leap on the bar (not literally) with me as I was getting in such a tizz, took one look at me and said "You're obviously not here tonight, are you?" Eeeek. And then there was Jerry, who lives upstairs with Julie, who believes he rules the fucking ROOST. A landlord roost, despite the fact that his name isn't ANYWHERE over the door or on the ownership papers. Jerry hates it when the staff read behind the bar, eat behind the bar, text behind the bar, smile, blink, you name it...... Well, what's a girl to do when it's completely dead, there's no-one to serve, nothing to do, she's working alone and has to get the frequently re-playing images from last night out of her head?
Spent the end of the night having to walk all the way down to the main road to catch the night bus. At night. On my own. Eeep. Got to the bus stop only to discover that buses don't run between 11 and 1 oclock. What the fricking frack is the point of that??! Anyway, got a taxi with my tips, who arrived to find me sat alone at a bus stop, reading "Sex and the single Vampire." Good times. What I love is how a) Next Thursday I'll be getting two wage packets at once, and b) Even on an unfeasibly quiet night like Saturday, riddled by recession, I still made double the tips I'd've made on a good night at the other pub. Sweet.
ON SUNDAY, I:
Read a whole book
Slept in to the point where I thought I was actually in a coma
Realised for the first time since college/uni days that it is, in fact, possible to have a 2-day hangover
Nearly had a visual orgasm at a roast dinner
Reminisced pretty much 21 hours out of the day about Friday night, questioning everything
Had a webcam conversation with Kyle
TO PREVENT INTER-PARENTAL ARGUEMENTS, I:
Hoovered the entire house
Tidied the entire house
Dragged an entire battered sofa-bed downstairs to put on the skip outside. On my own. DAMN, the gym seems to be working!
Today (Monday) was pretty much the same, only without such heavy lifting and sofa/stairs negotiating. The good news is that Kyle seems to be approaching "what happened" the same way we always do - do not mention it whatsoever, have absolutely NO sense of awkwardness, and just carry on as we were before. I'm just confused. I would be trying to work it all out, but I can't be bothered thinking about it tonight - I'll come back to it another time when I actually get my brain around the hows and whys. Particularly the whys..... But not tonight, I seem to have been affected with a chronic case of the Slumps. Which is particularly annoying, as Mum keeps trying to make me DO things all the time. I really wish I lived on my own. Or even with a cat. A cat wouldn't make me do things, I'm sure. She is REALLY starting to get on my tits - NO-ONE else can create jobs that don't really need doing like she can. Grrrrrrrrrr..... She's off work tomorrow as well, so it's guaranteed nagging all day. Fun fun fun!
This is why I loved visiting Liverpool (same as Oxford, and Edinburgh when it comes) - as well as getting to see best friends, hang out, and have a rare old time - it's just so unbelieveably refreshing, fun and so goddamn FREEING to just get away from my stupid little life, even if it's just for a weekend, or even a night. To stop worrying about money, trying to get jobs, skillfully fending off Mum's constant Gestapo-like questions and putting myself down as a human being..... and just focus on getting pissed, having a laugh, reminiscing, seeing beautiful sights and just doing nothing but HAVING FUN. When I look at Kyle, it makes me sad sometimes, just because he's got it so completely sorted - gorgeous flat, long-term boyfriend, 3 jobs, living the life he loves. When will it be MY turn to get that?
This is really putting me in turmoil now - on the one hand it feels good to bitch and moan, but don't want to come across as some old whingebag, looking for sympathy. And everytime I think to myself; "Don't go to France yet, earn some more money, stick around a few more weeks," something else happens to make me want to run away even more, and live the life I want. That of a solitary writer. In France.
Christ, I sound pretentious. But it's true.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Current Mood: frustrated. Again.
Current Music: "Any colour you like" - Pink Floyd
Following that mental entry (MENTRY!) on Saturday, not much has happened between then and now. Had a shift at the Trees at 5, but due to gabbing with Kyle over toast and him inadvertantly sending me the LONGEST POSSIBLE route to the train station (despite this being HIS city) I missed my train, and consequently only had about 8 minutes between arriving home and going back out again. Needless to say, spent the whole of my very long, boring and quiet shift completely hungover, still utterly baffled/turned on, and having to munch on Smarties and pork scratchings to stave off rickets, due to missing tea. I don't even like pork scratchings.
The shift was awful anyway. Had a complete chav dickhead in, who made me lie for him every one of the 5 times his girlfriend rang the pub looking for him, annoyed the hell out of everyone and nearly beat up his best mate. Then there was the pissed-up platinum blonde friend of the landlady, who seemed convinced for half of the night that I was a distant niece. Then there was Julie - who at one point actually had to leap on the bar (not literally) with me as I was getting in such a tizz, took one look at me and said "You're obviously not here tonight, are you?" Eeeek. And then there was Jerry, who lives upstairs with Julie, who believes he rules the fucking ROOST. A landlord roost, despite the fact that his name isn't ANYWHERE over the door or on the ownership papers. Jerry hates it when the staff read behind the bar, eat behind the bar, text behind the bar, smile, blink, you name it...... Well, what's a girl to do when it's completely dead, there's no-one to serve, nothing to do, she's working alone and has to get the frequently re-playing images from last night out of her head?
Spent the end of the night having to walk all the way down to the main road to catch the night bus. At night. On my own. Eeep. Got to the bus stop only to discover that buses don't run between 11 and 1 oclock. What the fricking frack is the point of that??! Anyway, got a taxi with my tips, who arrived to find me sat alone at a bus stop, reading "Sex and the single Vampire." Good times. What I love is how a) Next Thursday I'll be getting two wage packets at once, and b) Even on an unfeasibly quiet night like Saturday, riddled by recession, I still made double the tips I'd've made on a good night at the other pub. Sweet.
ON SUNDAY, I:
Read a whole book
Slept in to the point where I thought I was actually in a coma
Realised for the first time since college/uni days that it is, in fact, possible to have a 2-day hangover
Nearly had a visual orgasm at a roast dinner
Reminisced pretty much 21 hours out of the day about Friday night, questioning everything
Had a webcam conversation with Kyle
TO PREVENT INTER-PARENTAL ARGUEMENTS, I:
Hoovered the entire house
Tidied the entire house
Dragged an entire battered sofa-bed downstairs to put on the skip outside. On my own. DAMN, the gym seems to be working!
Today (Monday) was pretty much the same, only without such heavy lifting and sofa/stairs negotiating. The good news is that Kyle seems to be approaching "what happened" the same way we always do - do not mention it whatsoever, have absolutely NO sense of awkwardness, and just carry on as we were before. I'm just confused. I would be trying to work it all out, but I can't be bothered thinking about it tonight - I'll come back to it another time when I actually get my brain around the hows and whys. Particularly the whys..... But not tonight, I seem to have been affected with a chronic case of the Slumps. Which is particularly annoying, as Mum keeps trying to make me DO things all the time. I really wish I lived on my own. Or even with a cat. A cat wouldn't make me do things, I'm sure. She is REALLY starting to get on my tits - NO-ONE else can create jobs that don't really need doing like she can. Grrrrrrrrrr..... She's off work tomorrow as well, so it's guaranteed nagging all day. Fun fun fun!
This is why I loved visiting Liverpool (same as Oxford, and Edinburgh when it comes) - as well as getting to see best friends, hang out, and have a rare old time - it's just so unbelieveably refreshing, fun and so goddamn FREEING to just get away from my stupid little life, even if it's just for a weekend, or even a night. To stop worrying about money, trying to get jobs, skillfully fending off Mum's constant Gestapo-like questions and putting myself down as a human being..... and just focus on getting pissed, having a laugh, reminiscing, seeing beautiful sights and just doing nothing but HAVING FUN. When I look at Kyle, it makes me sad sometimes, just because he's got it so completely sorted - gorgeous flat, long-term boyfriend, 3 jobs, living the life he loves. When will it be MY turn to get that?
This is really putting me in turmoil now - on the one hand it feels good to bitch and moan, but don't want to come across as some old whingebag, looking for sympathy. And everytime I think to myself; "Don't go to France yet, earn some more money, stick around a few more weeks," something else happens to make me want to run away even more, and live the life I want. That of a solitary writer. In France.
Christ, I sound pretentious. But it's true.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Current Mood: frustrated. Again.
Current Music: "Any colour you like" - Pink Floyd
Saturday, 14 March 2009
Make awkward sexual advances, not war
Dear Diary,
Wow. I actually got butterflies as I started getting ready to type this. Isn't it strange how a mere MEMORY can make you feel all manner of things? In case you're wondering, I have a fairly unusual anecdote to share....... there's no point whatsoever recapping Thursday and Friday day - all that happened on Thursday was me going to the Trees to pick up my wages, only for them to have been delayed, as I'm a new girl. Which, as you can imagine, was a bit of a pisser, as I now DIDN'T have £35 to take to the Pool, and had to secretly borrow a twenty off Dad instead.
Friday was fairly nondescript - I was up at the CRACK of dawn, in front of my laptop by 7am, which, considering the fact that that time doesn't normally EXIST to me, was pretty impressive. Anyhow, sat there for 4 hours, (I managed to persuade Mum to lend me her card, you know, for "better odds") continually dialling the Ticket line and getting put in website queues, before discovering that every single Michael Jackson ticket has sold out. In fact, they apparently went within MINUTES. And I'd sat there for 4 hours. Scuse me while I say:
MOTHER FUCKERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Well, I had to get it out. Anyway, I'm gonna keep my eyes peeled, see if I can find something nearer the time. Surely SOMETHING will come up - although Ebay's clearly a no-go, they're going for about £690 at the CHEAPEST on there. Fuck THAT shit.
So anyway, onto Friday night, which you may remember as my night out in the Pool with old uni friend Kyle. Who, at last check, was suggesting threesomes with his attractive co-worker. Went over in the evening - spent the whole train journey panicking that I'd bump into Zara and co. whilst we were out, (I didn't. Thank god for small mercies) spent the walk from the station through the city gazing around nostalgically with a smile so wide it nearly cracked my face, and then spent £5 on the cheapest, dirtiest, most student-est wine I could find in the nearby cornershop. Got to his at 7, where we dived straight into the AIDS wine, hair-straightening and catching up. Man, it was wicked to see him again. Was slightly nervous about any awkwardness, as I always am when seeing people I've been out of touch with for a while, but we slotted back together as if we'd never been apart, and were soon having an absolute BALL.
Went out about 9, after an almighty sing/dance-off in the bedroom, whilst getting ready. Decided to wear my contacts and false eyelashes again, which don't seem to get easier with practice, hmmm...... But my eyes looked stunning, which prompted the following:
"Wow! Someone's trying to get laid tonight!!" (Am I really THAT predictable? Don't answer that)
"No, not at all"
"BOLLOCKS you're not"
"No, I'm really not. I'm out with my friend tonight, I haven't seen you in ages, I'm not going home with anyone!"
"But.... but what if you meet someone in a gay bar, and she's like ooooh..... (*squeezes my boob*) come home with me!"
"Fuck off! Find me someone who actually does that, and THEN I'll go home with them."
Bearing in mind what happened later, I guess maybe that old How-to-look-attractive-on-a-night-out adage of "Look like you don't give a fuck about getting a fuck" really works. Or it lay in the depths of Tequila, who knows? But I'm getting ahead of myself.......
So we trotted out into the night with a good sturdy haze of tipsiness now surrounding us, belting out "A Little Respect" and harmonising on all the right parts (that's one of the things I miss the most, our uncanny knack of simultaneously being able to harmonise), whilst laughing our arses off and quoting "Family Guy". Had 5 tequilas in the first bar, and got 4 FREE drinks in the second - courtesey of an old friend who worked there, who was on the same course as us back at uni. God bless that sexy Scouse bastard. Hung out there for a while, before heading off to see one of Kyle's old friends headline a band. I normally hate watching live bands, especially ones I don't even know, but they were amazing, and Kyle's mate brought us free beers, so that was pretty cool!
After that we headed downtown, continuing to sing Erasure/Wheatus (I prefer the latter's version, if I'm honest) whilst munching takeaway, talking/doing shit ("This is how much I missed you!" *jumps and clicks heels* "Yeah? This is how much I missed you!" *Cartwheels* - I think I won) and heading for the gay district. Hung out there for a while, playing drinking games, in which an interesting truth was revealed:
Him: "OK...... I have never...... f**gered a girl!" (I told you, I can't STAND that word)
Me: "Ooooh, touche'!"
(*Both drink*)
Me: "Wait...... have you?"
Him: "Yeah! I've told you this before! I know where the G-spot is, and everything!"
Me: "Really?!"
Him: "Yeah........ you of ALL people should know that!"
(I get baffled, as that's the first time he's EVER spoken about our previous drunken fumbles)
Me: "Yeah, well...... wait, did you say you know where the G-spot is?"
Him: "Yep!"
Me: "BULL. SHIT."
Him: "What?!"
Me: "Kyle, I mean this in the nicest way possible, but NO man knows where it is. Trust me."
Him: "Well, the girl I did it too seemed pretty confident I did....." (*proceeds to tell story*)
Me: "Wow..... that's a good story. And also quite hot!"
Him: "Thanks!"
Me: "Wait, so..... you KNOW where it is? Wow..... well, there's not many men out there who know what they're doing with a woman's body. Especially a gay man. So..... nice one!" (*At this point, I think I actually shook his hand and attempted to high-five him. Jesus!*) "Shame you're gay though. We could use someone who actually knows what they're doing to teach the rest!"
Soon after this, "Billie Jean" came on, so naturally we proceeded to tear up the (empty) dance floor with our authentic moves, shrieking every single ad-lib that crops up on MJ's live performances word/beat-perfectly, much to our hilarity, and the confusion of everyone else. Moved onto a 90's bar - I was thrilled and impressed, he wasn't. Stood at the bar drinking our cheap-ass nasty drinks, whilst I cheered my heart out and danced madly around the bemused Kyle to "Ecuador." Talked for ages about anything and nothing, laughing our tits off all the way through. He kept kissing me - well, what looked and felt like kissing, but was actually passing drink from his mouth into mine - something he does on EVERY night out. God knows why, since we had the same drink. But was slightly thrown as we went to leave, when he sort of got hold of me and did it again....... only this time, without any drink to pass. Confusing......
Anyway, after another quick trip to the takeaway - where I stood with some other girls having the kind of conversation that only girls in a takeaway at the end of a night can have, and broadly procclaiming how much I miss/love this city - we staggered back to the flat. (Would like to stress that I didn't, in fact, have ANY takeaway. I'm getting gooooooooooood!) That bit of the night was a bit of a blur...... I remember sitting on the edge of the bed, demurely nibbling a burger and kicking off my sexy boots. We both went to the loo, and I got into my pajamas.
This is where the night got weird. And by weird, I mean odd/good/sexy/unusual/right/wrong/fantastic/alarming/confusing - delete as applicable. I still haven't decided. Since there is absolutely NO way I can do it justice in prose form, I'm going to have to turn it into a script. (Note: almost everything we said to each other was either said in an exaggerated Northern accent, or in the style of Bo' Selecta/Family Guy characters. Just so you can imagine it......)
Oh, and if anyone is slightly prudish or easily shocked, I'd skip over this bit if I were you, just a suggestion......
STARRING:
Kat - The lead role
Kat's Brain - The only (tiny) sober part of me.
Kat's Stomach - You can imagine......
Kat's Vagina - Sorry to be frank, but all women have SURELY experienced this body part doing all the thinking for them at LEAST once. Don't lie, we all have.
Kyle - The other lead role
SCENE: Kyle's bedroom, late Friday night/early Saturday morning.
(Kat, wearing her big fleecy PJ's is in Kyle's bed. Kyle slides in next to her, wearing nothing but boxers. Whilst the right side of paraletic, both are pissed off their crazy bitch-tits)
Kat: "My god! Aren't you cold??"
Kyle: "No, I'm fiiiiiiiiiiiiiiine. Nice and cosy!"
Vagina: "Ooooooh, a half naked guy lay next to you!"
Brain: "Calm down, calm down. He's just a guy, in boxers. Doesn't mean anything....."
Vagina: "BULLSHIT!! He's been flirting with you all night!"
Brain: "Don't be daft, Vagina! That's just his way, he does that to everyone, all the time! Especially when he's pissed!"
Stomach: "Urrrrrrrrr......."
Brain: "Oi!! STOMACH!! Don't you dare....."
(Kyle snuggles up to Kat, closer than normal)
Stomach: "Butterflies...... butterflies......"
Vagina: "Hear hear!"
Kyle: "C'mere a second....."
Kat: (*panicking*) "What?"
Kyle: "Move your feet up....."
Kat: "Ewwww, no, they're touching! I'm fine, thanks!"
Kyle: "What's wrong?"
Kat: "Look, my feet are freezing! I'm not moving them up!"
Kyle: "Yeah, exactly, let me warm them!"
Kat: "Wha.....? How....?!"
Kyle: "Put them between mine!"
Kat: "NO!!! I fucking HATE feet!!"
Kyle: "Why?"
Kat: "They knock me sick! I mean, LOOK at them! (*Sticks foot out of duvet to illustrate*) I bloody DESPISE them! Especially other people's!"
Kyle: "Go on then, put them between mine! Face your FEAR!"
Kat: "Fuck you!"
Kyle: "Go on......!"
Kat: "Ohhhhh......"
(She puts her feet between Kyle's)
Kyle: "See, it's not so bad!"
Stomach: *LURCH*
Brain: "What the fuck is he doing, here??"
Kat: "Oh god, we're both BAREFOOT! I feel ill!"
Kyle: "That's probably just the drink!"
Stomach: "URRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR"
Brain: "Shut up, Stomach!" You are NOT going to be sick, you WILL NOT be sick....."
(Kyle starts playing footsie with Kat under the duvet)
Vagina: "Ooooooh! Hello!"
Brain: "Shut up, Vagina!! Kat, keep a hold of yourself, you HATE feet, remember?? Oh my god, what on EARTH is going on? Get out of it, before it goes too far..... make something up..... ANYTHING!!"
Stomach: "Butterflies...... butterflies......BUTTERFLIES......!!!!"
Brain: "Mayday!! Mayday!!"
Kat: "Oh god, I don't feel good!!"
(She bolts out of bed and runs for the balcony. She stands in the cold fresh air, desperately trying to collect her drunken thoughts and not panic about what could potentially happen. She goes back in)
Kyle: "You OK?"
Kat: "Yeah, just felt a tad queasy....."
Kyle: "Lock the balcony door! Oh, I'll do it..... (*hops out of bed to lock the door*)
Vagina: "He's half-naked...."
Brain: "Stop staring. You're staring! Don't stare....."
Kyle: "I'll just put the blinds down, don't want anyone LOOKING in!"
Brain: "What the frig does THAT mean?"
Kat: "Um..... looking in on what?"
Kyle: "My PRIVATE business!"
Kat: "Um...... ok......"
Vagina: "Did he mean.....?"
Brain: "Shut up, Vagina!!"
(Several minutes of forgotten conversation ensue, mostly consisting of reciting Bo' Selecta routines and Kyle continuously snuggling up closer, inexplicably wearing a swimming cap)
Kyle: "Look! I'm Jade Goody!"
Kat: (*gasps for 20 solid seconds*) "JESUS!!! Too soon, Kyle. Too soon."
Kyle: "Sorry......"
Kat: "Ah, forget it. (*Returning to Bo' Selecta mode, while Kyle pisses himself laughing*) 'I never did experiment when I was younger..... neither did I, I HATED Science at school, thick as SHIT, I were!'"
(Kyle laughs. Silence falls for a brief second. Suddenly, Kyle simply leans over and starts kissing Kat)
Brain: "WHAT THE.......????! Where on earth did THAT come from??"
Vagina: "Awwwwwwwww, YEEEEEEEEEEAH!!!!"
Brain: "Shit! Mouth dry...... must swallow....."
Stomach: "Butterflies, butterflies, butterflies, butterflies, butterflies........"
(Kat kisses Kyle back. This continues for about 5 solid minutes)
Brain: "Thank FUCK I brushed my teeth!"
Vagina: "Do something! DO SOMETHING!!"
Brain: "Noooooooooooooo!!! Don't do ANYTHING, wait for him to...... ah, unbuttoning the pajama top. Now, you're OK."
(Much stroking and boob foreplay ensues)
Brain: "Oh right, I see. Focus ENTIRELY on the right one. I know it's bigger, but come on! The left one must feel really bad. OK, SURELY he's gonna stop there. He's got a boyfriend, he won't take this any fur...... HOLY SHIT!!! Hand down the pants!"
Vagina: "WHOOOOOO-HAAAAAA!!!!!"
Brain: "Fuck, what knickers do I have on.....? Oh yeah, the pinstripe ones with the lace...... oh, thank god, they're LOVELY!! Hmmmm..... maybe I should've worn the silky ones - they might have felt nicer...... aesthetically..... Thank god I shaved!!"
Vagina: "Reciprocate! RECIPROCATE!!"
Brain: "NO!! Under no circumstances must you..... oh, there goes your hand..... Damn."
Vagina: "Yee-haa! Cock!"
Brain: "Shut up, Vagina! Hmmmm..... not as big as he frequently boasts. HA!! I've discovered your secret!"
Legs: (cameo) "Well, she spent all that time shaving us, and we don't even get a little stroke? How rude!"
Vagina: "Shut up, Legs! I am getting a little bit of action, that is all that's important!"
Brain: "Wait.... oh, surely he's not going to....."
Stomach: *EPIC BUTTERFLY*
Vagina: *DITTO*
Brain: "OK. He did. How does he even know how to DO that?? Must have practised on a lot of women..... I wonder how many he's done this to.....?"
Vagina: "Oh, fuck that! RECIPROCATE!!"
(Kat reciprocates)
Vagina: "Yeah, that's what I'M talking about!! Ooooh, he's moaning! This is getting good....."
Brain: "Is he moaning about how much of a turn-on he finds me or because there's a hand on his cock.....? Oh wait, you just answered your own question."
(This continues for about 10 minutes, until.....)
Kyle: (*gasping*) "I'm gonna come....!"
Brain: "SHIT!!!"
Vagina: "No, keep going!"
(Kyle rolls onto his back, while Kat continues)
Brain: "ABORT!! ABORT!!!!!!"
Vagina: "It's out of your control now! We've got to see this mother through till the end!"
(Kyle finishes)
Brain: "Oh my god..... it's not.....? Did it.....? Oh my fucking life, it went in my HAIR!! And...... on the top..... of..... MY NOSE??! Shit, WHY did I put my face there??! Don't say anything..... he doesn't need to know....."
(After a few second's silence, Kyle goes into the bathroom)
Kat: "Fuck........"
Vagina: "That was AWESOME!!!"
Brain: "Shut up, Vagina!! Crap, we're in trouble now. OK, just don't let it get awkward - make a joke when he comes out, reassure him it's still you, and you're still friends. Just say something..... ANYTHING....."
(Kyle comes out)
Kat: (*putting on a ridiculous voice*) "I got some in my haaaaaaaaair!"
Brain: "WHAT THE FUCK????????!!!!!"
(Kyle laughs awkwardly. Kat gets up and heads towards the bathroom)
Kyle: "Kat?"
Kat: "Yeah?"
(She turns to look at him. He is stood naked, in profile, in front of the window)
Vagina: "Oooh, I can totally see everything! He's still hard! YOU did that!"
Brain: "SHUT UP, VAGINA!!!!!!"
Kyle: "I think that was one of those things we should probably NEVER talk about again."
Brain: "Well, why did he start it, then?"
Vagina: "Shut up, Brain!"
Brain: "Think of a witty reply, think of something witty, think of something witty....."
Kat: "Um.... yeah, OK!" (*goes into the bathroom to rub water on hair, and wipe top of nose with a tissue*)
Brain: "That wasn't witty"
So, there you have it. I didn't have a threesome, but I inadvertantly ended up going further with one of my best friends than I ever have done/should have done. Of course, it raises several dilemnas about his boyfriend (although presumably, he won't tell him). Although of couse, it depends on every couple's definition of cheating. For some it's thinking, for others it's kissing - for some it can be the whole kabosh, but as long as they tell each other, it's alright, etc.... etc.... I have no idea if I did something bad, or not. Presumably yes, but then, if it was so terrible, why did Kyle start it? I technically did nothing - he kissed me first, I kissed him back, he touched first, so I touched back, he..... well, you get the gist of what happened.
At least, I think you did. If I was at all unclear - I will just clarify: no head was given, it was all done with hands and it rhymes with mutual caster-lation. Well, except the end wasn't mutual, but hey, I've never managed it so far. Rather surprisingly, he DID seem to know what he was doing. Especially in the kissing department....... Sweet lord. I think the last time I kissed him was in 3rd year - I'd forgotten how amazing he was at it. Plus, this was just wonderful, the really slow, lazy, sexy, trying-to-suck-your-soul-out-through-each-others-mouths, deep kissing. Mmmmmm...... Not to mention all the lower lip sucking, nibbling, and the incredibly hot moments where we'd stop for a second with our mouths just millimetres apart and sort of breathe each other in. Tasty.
I was going into spasms remembering it all day. I love that, when a memory affects you so powerfully. To me, reminiscing about the kissing (hey!) was more sexy than the actual sex act itself. I literally had goosebumps on the train home, and was in a constant state of arousal all day. Plus, is it just me, or is there nothing sexier than a guy gasping that he's about to come? Weird thing to find sexy, I know, but it just sounds so desperate and breathless - like they're vulnerable for one tiny moment, and it's all out of their hands (no pun intended). I love that. And all the little groans and moans leading up to it. Mm-hmm. It's a good feeling, knowing that you're doing that to somebody.
Although, I wonder why they feel the need to WARN us? I mean, if we were giving head, and particularly adverse to swallowing, then yes. That is gentlemanly. But I was nowhere NEAR him at that point. Is it just something that bursts out their mouths at the point of no return? Or was he trying to tell me to stop?? But that's no good, because then he'd had been left with a raging hard-on with nowhere to go, and I can't imagine that's much fun. Maybe he didn't like the idea of a friend making him come? Well, fuck, he shoudn't have started it. I'm a woman, flesh and blood, I'm not going to lie there like a blow-up doll he wants to fiddle with. If someone starts kissing and touching me, then dammit, I'm going to respond! And also - he was up and in the bathroom within about 10 seconds of finishing. My god, what is he, a ROBOT??! Usually when I've had an orgasm, I can't move, function or even THINK for at least a minute! How does he DO that??
Although there was a moment where I kind of slipped up and went wrong. And I have NO idea why this felt so controversial, especially in light of what we were doing. But there was a moment near the end when I slipped up, BADLY. Just as he gasped his little warning and rolled over, in the heat of the moment I rolled with him, and did the unforgiveable - I planted a kiss on his stomach. You know, the bit where it connects to the man-lines, right by his dong. Now, given what we'd just been up to, you wouldn't think it was that bad. But for some reason, this felt wrong.
Before we were just, I don't know, "experimenting," having a drunken fumble. There were moments during the first 5 minutes whenever we stopped kissing where I'd kiss his shoulder or neck. Well, mainly because I know it feels amazing, but also in the hope of getting the same back (he didn't. Well, he did, a bit. Once. The bastard). But that felt normal, because his shoulder and neck were right in front of my mouth, and it just felt like part of it all. But the stomach kiss...... oh boy. That's the moment where the whole drunken charade - us basically being reduced to Body Parts To Play With (vile, but true) - was shattered, by me doing one thing that might take it past that, and actually reveal that, by kissing such an intimate part of his body that wasn't even RELATED to the sex act, I might like him as more than a friend. Does that make ANY sense?? It did in my head.
Now, I will admit, yes, I like him. I'm not in LOVE with him or anything daft like that. I don't even really fancy him. Well, OK, I do. But there is something about him that EVERYONE finds attractive, he's just one of those people. And yes, I like having these pissed-up sessions with him, even if it's slightly awkward afterwards. Because he's funny, has a good body, and is madly sexy. And the next day we can just forget it happened, and always go back to being normal mates again. The only thing I feel ashamed of is the fact that he has a boyfriend. I should have stopped him, really. But again, why did he start it?? We may have been smashed, but we weren't THAT far gone. Hmmmm...... My only idea is that he thought I was his boyfriend and..... actually, no, that doesn't even make sense, cos I was talking, like, 3 seconds before it happened, so he KNOWS it was me. And even if he forgot, I'm sure the very female-sounding noises gave it away! Maybe he was just horny after all the drink, and I was just THERE. Christ, well at least ACCEPT and acknowledge it, so we can move on, instead of making it this big, shameful thing. It's not the worst thing to happen in the world...... Having said that, he's one of the few men I've had the pleasure of knowing who's erection was actually ENHANCED by drink, instead of affected. And actually knows where both sweet-spots are and how to work them simultaneously! Sweeeeeeet. Can this guy do ANY wrong??! I think he's up there with David on the chart of Good Lovers - definately 2nd place.
This morning was fine, by the way. We woke up, moaned about our hangovers, watched horrific and funny videos about snakes and babies (individually) on YouTube and basically had a laugh. Although there was a slightly sticky moment (no pun intended) where I was like: "What happened to my hair??" And then when I looked down to discover my PJ top was buttoned up all wrong. And when I saw him discreetly checking the duvet for...... evidence. Hmm. Anyway, we went for breakfast and I ran for the station. Missed my train by 5 seconds, so jumped on the next, which was completely empty. Thought about what happened nearly all the way home...... prompting me to kick myself for leaving my mini-vibe (which is usually always in my handbag) at home. Well, there was no-one else in the carriage for half the journey! I'm just kidding, I wouldn't have. Or WOULD I......? (*twirls moustache*)
Stared out the windows as Tori Amos sang on my Ipod; "Say you don't want it/this circus you're in/but you don't, don't really mean it/you say you don't want it/again and again/but you don't, don't really mean it....."
Shockingly apt, if you think about it.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
PS: I can't believe THIS is my 100th entry. I don't know whether to be alarmed or smile about it. I know that's probably irrelevant, it just seemed inexplicably important.
Current Mood: horny, yet butterfly-y. And knackered RIGHT out.
Current Music: Silence. It's 4:45am, for goodness sake. Shit! Quarter to FIVE??! Must get to sleep!!!
Wow. I actually got butterflies as I started getting ready to type this. Isn't it strange how a mere MEMORY can make you feel all manner of things? In case you're wondering, I have a fairly unusual anecdote to share....... there's no point whatsoever recapping Thursday and Friday day - all that happened on Thursday was me going to the Trees to pick up my wages, only for them to have been delayed, as I'm a new girl. Which, as you can imagine, was a bit of a pisser, as I now DIDN'T have £35 to take to the Pool, and had to secretly borrow a twenty off Dad instead.
Friday was fairly nondescript - I was up at the CRACK of dawn, in front of my laptop by 7am, which, considering the fact that that time doesn't normally EXIST to me, was pretty impressive. Anyhow, sat there for 4 hours, (I managed to persuade Mum to lend me her card, you know, for "better odds") continually dialling the Ticket line and getting put in website queues, before discovering that every single Michael Jackson ticket has sold out. In fact, they apparently went within MINUTES. And I'd sat there for 4 hours. Scuse me while I say:
MOTHER FUCKERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Well, I had to get it out. Anyway, I'm gonna keep my eyes peeled, see if I can find something nearer the time. Surely SOMETHING will come up - although Ebay's clearly a no-go, they're going for about £690 at the CHEAPEST on there. Fuck THAT shit.
So anyway, onto Friday night, which you may remember as my night out in the Pool with old uni friend Kyle. Who, at last check, was suggesting threesomes with his attractive co-worker. Went over in the evening - spent the whole train journey panicking that I'd bump into Zara and co. whilst we were out, (I didn't. Thank god for small mercies) spent the walk from the station through the city gazing around nostalgically with a smile so wide it nearly cracked my face, and then spent £5 on the cheapest, dirtiest, most student-est wine I could find in the nearby cornershop. Got to his at 7, where we dived straight into the AIDS wine, hair-straightening and catching up. Man, it was wicked to see him again. Was slightly nervous about any awkwardness, as I always am when seeing people I've been out of touch with for a while, but we slotted back together as if we'd never been apart, and were soon having an absolute BALL.
Went out about 9, after an almighty sing/dance-off in the bedroom, whilst getting ready. Decided to wear my contacts and false eyelashes again, which don't seem to get easier with practice, hmmm...... But my eyes looked stunning, which prompted the following:
"Wow! Someone's trying to get laid tonight!!" (Am I really THAT predictable? Don't answer that)
"No, not at all"
"BOLLOCKS you're not"
"No, I'm really not. I'm out with my friend tonight, I haven't seen you in ages, I'm not going home with anyone!"
"But.... but what if you meet someone in a gay bar, and she's like ooooh..... (*squeezes my boob*) come home with me!"
"Fuck off! Find me someone who actually does that, and THEN I'll go home with them."
Bearing in mind what happened later, I guess maybe that old How-to-look-attractive-on-a-night-out adage of "Look like you don't give a fuck about getting a fuck" really works. Or it lay in the depths of Tequila, who knows? But I'm getting ahead of myself.......
So we trotted out into the night with a good sturdy haze of tipsiness now surrounding us, belting out "A Little Respect" and harmonising on all the right parts (that's one of the things I miss the most, our uncanny knack of simultaneously being able to harmonise), whilst laughing our arses off and quoting "Family Guy". Had 5 tequilas in the first bar, and got 4 FREE drinks in the second - courtesey of an old friend who worked there, who was on the same course as us back at uni. God bless that sexy Scouse bastard. Hung out there for a while, before heading off to see one of Kyle's old friends headline a band. I normally hate watching live bands, especially ones I don't even know, but they were amazing, and Kyle's mate brought us free beers, so that was pretty cool!
After that we headed downtown, continuing to sing Erasure/Wheatus (I prefer the latter's version, if I'm honest) whilst munching takeaway, talking/doing shit ("This is how much I missed you!" *jumps and clicks heels* "Yeah? This is how much I missed you!" *Cartwheels* - I think I won) and heading for the gay district. Hung out there for a while, playing drinking games, in which an interesting truth was revealed:
Him: "OK...... I have never...... f**gered a girl!" (I told you, I can't STAND that word)
Me: "Ooooh, touche'!"
(*Both drink*)
Me: "Wait...... have you?"
Him: "Yeah! I've told you this before! I know where the G-spot is, and everything!"
Me: "Really?!"
Him: "Yeah........ you of ALL people should know that!"
(I get baffled, as that's the first time he's EVER spoken about our previous drunken fumbles)
Me: "Yeah, well...... wait, did you say you know where the G-spot is?"
Him: "Yep!"
Me: "BULL. SHIT."
Him: "What?!"
Me: "Kyle, I mean this in the nicest way possible, but NO man knows where it is. Trust me."
Him: "Well, the girl I did it too seemed pretty confident I did....." (*proceeds to tell story*)
Me: "Wow..... that's a good story. And also quite hot!"
Him: "Thanks!"
Me: "Wait, so..... you KNOW where it is? Wow..... well, there's not many men out there who know what they're doing with a woman's body. Especially a gay man. So..... nice one!" (*At this point, I think I actually shook his hand and attempted to high-five him. Jesus!*) "Shame you're gay though. We could use someone who actually knows what they're doing to teach the rest!"
Soon after this, "Billie Jean" came on, so naturally we proceeded to tear up the (empty) dance floor with our authentic moves, shrieking every single ad-lib that crops up on MJ's live performances word/beat-perfectly, much to our hilarity, and the confusion of everyone else. Moved onto a 90's bar - I was thrilled and impressed, he wasn't. Stood at the bar drinking our cheap-ass nasty drinks, whilst I cheered my heart out and danced madly around the bemused Kyle to "Ecuador." Talked for ages about anything and nothing, laughing our tits off all the way through. He kept kissing me - well, what looked and felt like kissing, but was actually passing drink from his mouth into mine - something he does on EVERY night out. God knows why, since we had the same drink. But was slightly thrown as we went to leave, when he sort of got hold of me and did it again....... only this time, without any drink to pass. Confusing......
Anyway, after another quick trip to the takeaway - where I stood with some other girls having the kind of conversation that only girls in a takeaway at the end of a night can have, and broadly procclaiming how much I miss/love this city - we staggered back to the flat. (Would like to stress that I didn't, in fact, have ANY takeaway. I'm getting gooooooooooood!) That bit of the night was a bit of a blur...... I remember sitting on the edge of the bed, demurely nibbling a burger and kicking off my sexy boots. We both went to the loo, and I got into my pajamas.
This is where the night got weird. And by weird, I mean odd/good/sexy/unusual/right/wrong/fantastic/alarming/confusing - delete as applicable. I still haven't decided. Since there is absolutely NO way I can do it justice in prose form, I'm going to have to turn it into a script. (Note: almost everything we said to each other was either said in an exaggerated Northern accent, or in the style of Bo' Selecta/Family Guy characters. Just so you can imagine it......)
Oh, and if anyone is slightly prudish or easily shocked, I'd skip over this bit if I were you, just a suggestion......
STARRING:
Kat - The lead role
Kat's Brain - The only (tiny) sober part of me.
Kat's Stomach - You can imagine......
Kat's Vagina - Sorry to be frank, but all women have SURELY experienced this body part doing all the thinking for them at LEAST once. Don't lie, we all have.
Kyle - The other lead role
SCENE: Kyle's bedroom, late Friday night/early Saturday morning.
(Kat, wearing her big fleecy PJ's is in Kyle's bed. Kyle slides in next to her, wearing nothing but boxers. Whilst the right side of paraletic, both are pissed off their crazy bitch-tits)
Kat: "My god! Aren't you cold??"
Kyle: "No, I'm fiiiiiiiiiiiiiiine. Nice and cosy!"
Vagina: "Ooooooh, a half naked guy lay next to you!"
Brain: "Calm down, calm down. He's just a guy, in boxers. Doesn't mean anything....."
Vagina: "BULLSHIT!! He's been flirting with you all night!"
Brain: "Don't be daft, Vagina! That's just his way, he does that to everyone, all the time! Especially when he's pissed!"
Stomach: "Urrrrrrrrr......."
Brain: "Oi!! STOMACH!! Don't you dare....."
(Kyle snuggles up to Kat, closer than normal)
Stomach: "Butterflies...... butterflies......"
Vagina: "Hear hear!"
Kyle: "C'mere a second....."
Kat: (*panicking*) "What?"
Kyle: "Move your feet up....."
Kat: "Ewwww, no, they're touching! I'm fine, thanks!"
Kyle: "What's wrong?"
Kat: "Look, my feet are freezing! I'm not moving them up!"
Kyle: "Yeah, exactly, let me warm them!"
Kat: "Wha.....? How....?!"
Kyle: "Put them between mine!"
Kat: "NO!!! I fucking HATE feet!!"
Kyle: "Why?"
Kat: "They knock me sick! I mean, LOOK at them! (*Sticks foot out of duvet to illustrate*) I bloody DESPISE them! Especially other people's!"
Kyle: "Go on then, put them between mine! Face your FEAR!"
Kat: "Fuck you!"
Kyle: "Go on......!"
Kat: "Ohhhhh......"
(She puts her feet between Kyle's)
Kyle: "See, it's not so bad!"
Stomach: *LURCH*
Brain: "What the fuck is he doing, here??"
Kat: "Oh god, we're both BAREFOOT! I feel ill!"
Kyle: "That's probably just the drink!"
Stomach: "URRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR"
Brain: "Shut up, Stomach!" You are NOT going to be sick, you WILL NOT be sick....."
(Kyle starts playing footsie with Kat under the duvet)
Vagina: "Ooooooh! Hello!"
Brain: "Shut up, Vagina!! Kat, keep a hold of yourself, you HATE feet, remember?? Oh my god, what on EARTH is going on? Get out of it, before it goes too far..... make something up..... ANYTHING!!"
Stomach: "Butterflies...... butterflies......BUTTERFLIES......!!!!"
Brain: "Mayday!! Mayday!!"
Kat: "Oh god, I don't feel good!!"
(She bolts out of bed and runs for the balcony. She stands in the cold fresh air, desperately trying to collect her drunken thoughts and not panic about what could potentially happen. She goes back in)
Kyle: "You OK?"
Kat: "Yeah, just felt a tad queasy....."
Kyle: "Lock the balcony door! Oh, I'll do it..... (*hops out of bed to lock the door*)
Vagina: "He's half-naked...."
Brain: "Stop staring. You're staring! Don't stare....."
Kyle: "I'll just put the blinds down, don't want anyone LOOKING in!"
Brain: "What the frig does THAT mean?"
Kat: "Um..... looking in on what?"
Kyle: "My PRIVATE business!"
Kat: "Um...... ok......"
Vagina: "Did he mean.....?"
Brain: "Shut up, Vagina!!"
(Several minutes of forgotten conversation ensue, mostly consisting of reciting Bo' Selecta routines and Kyle continuously snuggling up closer, inexplicably wearing a swimming cap)
Kyle: "Look! I'm Jade Goody!"
Kat: (*gasps for 20 solid seconds*) "JESUS!!! Too soon, Kyle. Too soon."
Kyle: "Sorry......"
Kat: "Ah, forget it. (*Returning to Bo' Selecta mode, while Kyle pisses himself laughing*) 'I never did experiment when I was younger..... neither did I, I HATED Science at school, thick as SHIT, I were!'"
(Kyle laughs. Silence falls for a brief second. Suddenly, Kyle simply leans over and starts kissing Kat)
Brain: "WHAT THE.......????! Where on earth did THAT come from??"
Vagina: "Awwwwwwwww, YEEEEEEEEEEAH!!!!"
Brain: "Shit! Mouth dry...... must swallow....."
Stomach: "Butterflies, butterflies, butterflies, butterflies, butterflies........"
(Kat kisses Kyle back. This continues for about 5 solid minutes)
Brain: "Thank FUCK I brushed my teeth!"
Vagina: "Do something! DO SOMETHING!!"
Brain: "Noooooooooooooo!!! Don't do ANYTHING, wait for him to...... ah, unbuttoning the pajama top. Now, you're OK."
(Much stroking and boob foreplay ensues)
Brain: "Oh right, I see. Focus ENTIRELY on the right one. I know it's bigger, but come on! The left one must feel really bad. OK, SURELY he's gonna stop there. He's got a boyfriend, he won't take this any fur...... HOLY SHIT!!! Hand down the pants!"
Vagina: "WHOOOOOO-HAAAAAA!!!!!"
Brain: "Fuck, what knickers do I have on.....? Oh yeah, the pinstripe ones with the lace...... oh, thank god, they're LOVELY!! Hmmmm..... maybe I should've worn the silky ones - they might have felt nicer...... aesthetically..... Thank god I shaved!!"
Vagina: "Reciprocate! RECIPROCATE!!"
Brain: "NO!! Under no circumstances must you..... oh, there goes your hand..... Damn."
Vagina: "Yee-haa! Cock!"
Brain: "Shut up, Vagina! Hmmmm..... not as big as he frequently boasts. HA!! I've discovered your secret!"
Legs: (cameo) "Well, she spent all that time shaving us, and we don't even get a little stroke? How rude!"
Vagina: "Shut up, Legs! I am getting a little bit of action, that is all that's important!"
Brain: "Wait.... oh, surely he's not going to....."
Stomach: *EPIC BUTTERFLY*
Vagina: *DITTO*
Brain: "OK. He did. How does he even know how to DO that?? Must have practised on a lot of women..... I wonder how many he's done this to.....?"
Vagina: "Oh, fuck that! RECIPROCATE!!"
(Kat reciprocates)
Vagina: "Yeah, that's what I'M talking about!! Ooooh, he's moaning! This is getting good....."
Brain: "Is he moaning about how much of a turn-on he finds me or because there's a hand on his cock.....? Oh wait, you just answered your own question."
(This continues for about 10 minutes, until.....)
Kyle: (*gasping*) "I'm gonna come....!"
Brain: "SHIT!!!"
Vagina: "No, keep going!"
(Kyle rolls onto his back, while Kat continues)
Brain: "ABORT!! ABORT!!!!!!"
Vagina: "It's out of your control now! We've got to see this mother through till the end!"
(Kyle finishes)
Brain: "Oh my god..... it's not.....? Did it.....? Oh my fucking life, it went in my HAIR!! And...... on the top..... of..... MY NOSE??! Shit, WHY did I put my face there??! Don't say anything..... he doesn't need to know....."
(After a few second's silence, Kyle goes into the bathroom)
Kat: "Fuck........"
Vagina: "That was AWESOME!!!"
Brain: "Shut up, Vagina!! Crap, we're in trouble now. OK, just don't let it get awkward - make a joke when he comes out, reassure him it's still you, and you're still friends. Just say something..... ANYTHING....."
(Kyle comes out)
Kat: (*putting on a ridiculous voice*) "I got some in my haaaaaaaaair!"
Brain: "WHAT THE FUCK????????!!!!!"
(Kyle laughs awkwardly. Kat gets up and heads towards the bathroom)
Kyle: "Kat?"
Kat: "Yeah?"
(She turns to look at him. He is stood naked, in profile, in front of the window)
Vagina: "Oooh, I can totally see everything! He's still hard! YOU did that!"
Brain: "SHUT UP, VAGINA!!!!!!"
Kyle: "I think that was one of those things we should probably NEVER talk about again."
Brain: "Well, why did he start it, then?"
Vagina: "Shut up, Brain!"
Brain: "Think of a witty reply, think of something witty, think of something witty....."
Kat: "Um.... yeah, OK!" (*goes into the bathroom to rub water on hair, and wipe top of nose with a tissue*)
Brain: "That wasn't witty"
So, there you have it. I didn't have a threesome, but I inadvertantly ended up going further with one of my best friends than I ever have done/should have done. Of course, it raises several dilemnas about his boyfriend (although presumably, he won't tell him). Although of couse, it depends on every couple's definition of cheating. For some it's thinking, for others it's kissing - for some it can be the whole kabosh, but as long as they tell each other, it's alright, etc.... etc.... I have no idea if I did something bad, or not. Presumably yes, but then, if it was so terrible, why did Kyle start it? I technically did nothing - he kissed me first, I kissed him back, he touched first, so I touched back, he..... well, you get the gist of what happened.
At least, I think you did. If I was at all unclear - I will just clarify: no head was given, it was all done with hands and it rhymes with mutual caster-lation. Well, except the end wasn't mutual, but hey, I've never managed it so far. Rather surprisingly, he DID seem to know what he was doing. Especially in the kissing department....... Sweet lord. I think the last time I kissed him was in 3rd year - I'd forgotten how amazing he was at it. Plus, this was just wonderful, the really slow, lazy, sexy, trying-to-suck-your-soul-out-through-each-others-mouths, deep kissing. Mmmmmm...... Not to mention all the lower lip sucking, nibbling, and the incredibly hot moments where we'd stop for a second with our mouths just millimetres apart and sort of breathe each other in. Tasty.
I was going into spasms remembering it all day. I love that, when a memory affects you so powerfully. To me, reminiscing about the kissing (hey!) was more sexy than the actual sex act itself. I literally had goosebumps on the train home, and was in a constant state of arousal all day. Plus, is it just me, or is there nothing sexier than a guy gasping that he's about to come? Weird thing to find sexy, I know, but it just sounds so desperate and breathless - like they're vulnerable for one tiny moment, and it's all out of their hands (no pun intended). I love that. And all the little groans and moans leading up to it. Mm-hmm. It's a good feeling, knowing that you're doing that to somebody.
Although, I wonder why they feel the need to WARN us? I mean, if we were giving head, and particularly adverse to swallowing, then yes. That is gentlemanly. But I was nowhere NEAR him at that point. Is it just something that bursts out their mouths at the point of no return? Or was he trying to tell me to stop?? But that's no good, because then he'd had been left with a raging hard-on with nowhere to go, and I can't imagine that's much fun. Maybe he didn't like the idea of a friend making him come? Well, fuck, he shoudn't have started it. I'm a woman, flesh and blood, I'm not going to lie there like a blow-up doll he wants to fiddle with. If someone starts kissing and touching me, then dammit, I'm going to respond! And also - he was up and in the bathroom within about 10 seconds of finishing. My god, what is he, a ROBOT??! Usually when I've had an orgasm, I can't move, function or even THINK for at least a minute! How does he DO that??
Although there was a moment where I kind of slipped up and went wrong. And I have NO idea why this felt so controversial, especially in light of what we were doing. But there was a moment near the end when I slipped up, BADLY. Just as he gasped his little warning and rolled over, in the heat of the moment I rolled with him, and did the unforgiveable - I planted a kiss on his stomach. You know, the bit where it connects to the man-lines, right by his dong. Now, given what we'd just been up to, you wouldn't think it was that bad. But for some reason, this felt wrong.
Before we were just, I don't know, "experimenting," having a drunken fumble. There were moments during the first 5 minutes whenever we stopped kissing where I'd kiss his shoulder or neck. Well, mainly because I know it feels amazing, but also in the hope of getting the same back (he didn't. Well, he did, a bit. Once. The bastard). But that felt normal, because his shoulder and neck were right in front of my mouth, and it just felt like part of it all. But the stomach kiss...... oh boy. That's the moment where the whole drunken charade - us basically being reduced to Body Parts To Play With (vile, but true) - was shattered, by me doing one thing that might take it past that, and actually reveal that, by kissing such an intimate part of his body that wasn't even RELATED to the sex act, I might like him as more than a friend. Does that make ANY sense?? It did in my head.
Now, I will admit, yes, I like him. I'm not in LOVE with him or anything daft like that. I don't even really fancy him. Well, OK, I do. But there is something about him that EVERYONE finds attractive, he's just one of those people. And yes, I like having these pissed-up sessions with him, even if it's slightly awkward afterwards. Because he's funny, has a good body, and is madly sexy. And the next day we can just forget it happened, and always go back to being normal mates again. The only thing I feel ashamed of is the fact that he has a boyfriend. I should have stopped him, really. But again, why did he start it?? We may have been smashed, but we weren't THAT far gone. Hmmmm...... My only idea is that he thought I was his boyfriend and..... actually, no, that doesn't even make sense, cos I was talking, like, 3 seconds before it happened, so he KNOWS it was me. And even if he forgot, I'm sure the very female-sounding noises gave it away! Maybe he was just horny after all the drink, and I was just THERE. Christ, well at least ACCEPT and acknowledge it, so we can move on, instead of making it this big, shameful thing. It's not the worst thing to happen in the world...... Having said that, he's one of the few men I've had the pleasure of knowing who's erection was actually ENHANCED by drink, instead of affected. And actually knows where both sweet-spots are and how to work them simultaneously! Sweeeeeeet. Can this guy do ANY wrong??! I think he's up there with David on the chart of Good Lovers - definately 2nd place.
This morning was fine, by the way. We woke up, moaned about our hangovers, watched horrific and funny videos about snakes and babies (individually) on YouTube and basically had a laugh. Although there was a slightly sticky moment (no pun intended) where I was like: "What happened to my hair??" And then when I looked down to discover my PJ top was buttoned up all wrong. And when I saw him discreetly checking the duvet for...... evidence. Hmm. Anyway, we went for breakfast and I ran for the station. Missed my train by 5 seconds, so jumped on the next, which was completely empty. Thought about what happened nearly all the way home...... prompting me to kick myself for leaving my mini-vibe (which is usually always in my handbag) at home. Well, there was no-one else in the carriage for half the journey! I'm just kidding, I wouldn't have. Or WOULD I......? (*twirls moustache*)
Stared out the windows as Tori Amos sang on my Ipod; "Say you don't want it/this circus you're in/but you don't, don't really mean it/you say you don't want it/again and again/but you don't, don't really mean it....."
Shockingly apt, if you think about it.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
PS: I can't believe THIS is my 100th entry. I don't know whether to be alarmed or smile about it. I know that's probably irrelevant, it just seemed inexplicably important.
Current Mood: horny, yet butterfly-y. And knackered RIGHT out.
Current Music: Silence. It's 4:45am, for goodness sake. Shit! Quarter to FIVE??! Must get to sleep!!!
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