Monthly Archives: February 2012

February 12

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Well, my optimism for February didn’t last long did it!

I used to quite like February as it’s over quick. But then suddenly you realise that the year is going far too quick.

I’m not even sure what I’ve achieved this month.

I had a date for Valentines! That’s not bad.

I then got dumped a week later. Could have been worse.

I tried to get rid of some grudges and even text my sister. That’s quite good.

I’m going to her hen party. Although not my decision.

I was horny. Can I have that to sum up my month?

I’m still just as lost and confused as January.

Bring on March!

Plenty More Fish

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You know that old saying, there are plenty more fish in the sea, well, I thought I’d take this literally.

I have a friend who’s on the dating website, so I thought I’d see what its like.

I do not like it.

Some of the questions on the ‘quiz’ were hilarious though.

Answer strongly agree, agree, disagree, strongly disagree.

White lies, like faking orgasm, are perfectly normal in maintaining a relationship

Strongly disagree, definitely. In the case of faking orgasm anyway.

So I had just signed up, filled in the litte writing about me section and within 5 minutes, I had 5 messages. Five. I didn’t even have a photo up at this point!

After about half an hour I added a photo, then the messages kept coming. I was actually getting annoyed with the amount of emails. And the lack of wit from the men.

One, aged 53, asked if I wanted to be a ‘sugar babe’. Maybe I should add sugar daddies need not apply.

I’ve had ‘oioi’, usual copy and paste rants about themselves, a few ‘wow you’re stunning blah blah’ that must be sent to every girl and even a cheesy joke. Literally. I went to the shop the other day and a man started to throw cheese at me… I thought how mature!

I’ve been on social sites before, met people from the internet since 14 and I’m pretty used to it. But this, it’s just a whole different kettle of fish.

I’ll go back to drowning my sorrows with the rest I think.

Cock and Hen

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As I’ve mentioned, my sister is getting married in May.

After months and months of arguing that I will be requiring a double room with not a lot more information on the matter, I am now slightly dateless.

Although technically I’m not. Mr Married Man has still said he will go with me. But that would just be weird right?

Then there’s the hen do. I can’t be in the same room as my sister without arguing or crying. I am apparently ‘head bridesmaid’ supposedly you have to be married to be maid of honour, but I know absolutely nothing about the wedding and bought my own bridesmaid dress without much consultation from my sister other than sarcastic comments. There is a time for sarcasm, and when buying a £400 dress for her wedding, it was not the time!

I refused to organise the hen party. I refused to go to the hen party. I don’t want to travel 200 miles to sit with strangers and argue with my family.

My mums organising it, she rang me to say my sister said she doesn’t care if no one else turns up as long as my mum and I are there.

This is something I cannot understand. I cannot get my head around it. After years of being treated like shit, I don’t understand how she can think I can forget all that and pretend like everything okay when she still makes absolutely no effort.

My mums booked the spa weekend for the hen night and paid for me to go I’m sending her a cheque, I refuse to let her pay, but as far as my sisters concerned, I have no idea what’s going on.

I need all the luck in the world to survive this.. on the plus side, I can buy all willy merchandise from Ann Summers!

Sexy Saturday; 25/2/12

This weeks theme was chosen by myself; Lingerie

Please feel free to suggest themes!

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This week I bought a balconette bra. It’s something I would never buy. It’s lacy and not padded. None. Nothing. Nips out.

I hate my boobs. With a passion. Everyone in my family has big tits. Apart from me.

So I’m gonna post this, so when I’m old and wrinkly I can look back and be like oh, I wan’t that bad actually. When their big tits start to sag to their ankles, I think I’ll feel a bit better about my itsy bitsy ones. For now, still hate them.

Oh, I’ll give you a tip too. If you every get your belly button pierced.. make sure they pierce it straight! Mines wonky, adds character ;)

Your Sexy Saturdays!

Sexy Bee!

Next weeks theme is; Favourite knickers!

You all know what knickers are right? If anyone comes near me with the word ‘panties’ I will slap them.

Dirty Little Whispers

You can find the code for my badge on the right hand side, or on the Sexy Saturday page

Sunshine

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Waheyyyy, the suns back!

I put a dress on yesterday, the sun vanished. I jinxed it obviously. Today I’m so far in underwear. If I dare put a dress on I fear a storm will suddenly appear!

I love that it’s sunny, as it means I won’t fecking freeze to death later.

Last year I was still going out in a thick winter coat well into the summer. It’s cold at night, right? It wasn’t until my mate threatened me that I finally stopped wearing it.

I’m looking forward to going out. Gonna wear my shortest dress. It’s a no brainer right.
Last time I went out I wore a nice dress, it wasn’t exactly amazing though. I need something to get me noticed. To get me back out there. Which is hard, with hundreds of other pretty girls all in tight short dresses and high heels.

Unfortunately the clubs changed to the one where I took Mr MM. And the dress I want to wear is the one I wore that night. I’m not exactly helping myself.

But hey, if I can pull a married man in this dress, single men must be easy ;)

It’s not about pulling though, it’s about me. I’m allowed to be vain and shallow for a while, it’s confidence building. What do you mean no? It is. I said so.
I just want to be able to have fun, and have a laugh. I’m not on antibiotics this time either, so getting drunk is an option. Although when drinks are upwards of £10 each, it’s a bit depressing of a challenge.

My male friend keeps trying to set us challenges. Although he thinks every challenge is unfair as I have an advantage as a female. So go on, set us a challenge? Just for fun ;)

Freedom Of Speech

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This blog, is my blog. It’s my space. My thoughts, and my therapy.

It also has all of my feelings.

If I’m happy, I’ll blog happy memories
If I’m sad, I’ll write about what’s made me sad and how to sort it
If I’m confused, I’ll ramble a load of rubbish
If I’m insecure, I’ll post a photo
If I’m horny, well, you’ll know about it ;)

My blog will change all the time depending on how I feel, what I want to write about, and what I need to. For me.

I can’t always be what you want me to be. I’m not here to please you. I’m here for the biscuits to live my life.

You can bear with me, or you can leave. I’m not keeping you here or making you read my story. That’s up to you. Your freedom of choice.

War Games

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The distance between us is all the same
Yet you seem further from I than you
You push and push but I won’t break
I will not make that same mistake

I stand strong upon my ground
Pushing back to make my stance
You do not like this new uncertainty
Nothing left so you can’t hurt me

War paint smiles across my face
Your game I no longer wish to play
All we’ve caused is aching hearts
Both knowing we’d be better apart

I made my point and told you straight
You bent the rules once again
I’m going to let you win the fight
No arguing now I can sleep at night

Loop The Loop

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Okay.. So a slight issue with my sex therapy plan. I have a feeling that handcuffing myself to the bed wouldn’t be much fun really.

I’m going to have to re think this.

I could just go out every weekend and have sex with strangers. Looking back, I’m not quite sure how I managed that myself.. to have the confidence to get dressed up every weekend, pull a guy, go back with him and then conduct the walk of shame in the morning. That does take a bit of balls really.

The thought of having to do that again scares me a bit. It didn’t at the time. If I tell my friends stories of my nights out they look at me in horror at the things I did. The dangerous situations. I guess that’s what puts me off a bit.

The first guy I went back with I didn’t even sleep with …okay, I may have given him a blowjob as we had no condoms… but I spent the whole way to his asking if he was going to murder me. I like to be sure of these things.

This weekend I’m going to Mayfair club again. As I mentioned previously it was the first club I went to when I came to London, but it shut down soon after. It’s opened again. I’ve been in London a year now. I feel like I’ve completely gone full loop. Right back to the beginning.

Right back to when I had confidence, and really short dresses.

Control

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For an easy life, I will back down. I’ll go along with anything. If you start an argument with me, I’ll let you win. It will keep you quiet. I don’t want you getting aggresive and shouting at me. I’m not an aggressive person. I’m passive. Unless you really piss me off, then you’ll get a slap.

But one thing I won’t do, is be pushed away. Not that I’m particuarly clingy. I just won’t stand for it.
I had a friend who lives just around the corner, I would see her most days and always chat to her. One day she fell out with me. I’m not sure what over. I tried to talk to her, she didn’t reply. I left it. That’s how it’s been for 4 months. I don’t like walking past her flat. I feel anxious.

So Mr Married Man decided he wasn’t going to message me much yesterday and wait until I messaged him. As I usually do. Where as I had the idea that I’m fed up of messaging him so he should put some effort in. This caused a stand off. I always had ‘the last word’ in the converstion, so the ball was in his court so to speak.

5 hours later the ranting started as to why the ‘zero contact’. Later I fell asleep, I woke up to fourteen messages from him. I replied, we argued. He mentioned the emails on my phone to ‘Mistress’, and the sex blogs. Apparently it ‘buzzed up’. It may buzz when I get an email, it doesn’t unlock itself and read the email.

He asked if I was cheating, if I wanted to have sex with someone else. Why was I being weird.

‘You’re really looking for an excuse to break up it seems’ he said. ‘Now that’s a very accusing sentence’ I replied.

He keeps saying that I’m being distant, I told him I was busy with work.

‘If you thought I was being distant, why are you pushing me further away?’ ‘Why did you stop talking to me, and decide we shouldn’t go on a date?’

‘Ok I think we’ll end this conversation, I’m getting on the tube, have a good afternoon’.

We’ll end this? That’s him ending it. Running away from the reality.

‘Keep pushing, and I’ll be gone.’ I said.

‘Ok I’ve had enough. you want it, off you go … been discussing wanting sex with other people… you come across as what you are – young, immature at times and who’s idea of a serious relationship was some fucked up bartender and too much Hollyoaks…. I don’t know what you are or what’s happened to you or why… we’re finished – now you can sleep at night and whatever else it is you seem to want…’

So well, that’s that.