Tag Archives: clubbing

Sunshine

20120225-122833.jpg

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 ;)

Dancing Shoes

20120127-183917.jpg

Tonight I am going to put on my short sluty best dress, and get back out there.
I shall dance the night away Or sit in the corner crying all night

In the summer, I had great confidence. I would even be first up on the dance floor. Someone has to be first right?

My heels shall see daylight night lights once more, and kill my feet of course in the process.

My friend is picking me up, which I feel is slightly cheating my independence, but Camden is a bit tricky to get to. I told him I would of course give him petrol money. His reply ‘and the rest of it’. Erm…

I love going out with the guys, the girls are all a bit older than me and would rather sit and chat, but the guys are much better at clubbing. Plus, when guys I’m not interested won’t leave me alone I pretend to be engaged to my mate ;)

The only problem is the antibiotics.. you’re not meant to drink right?

Hurt or Heal just informed me though that I won’t die, just get really drunk really quickly.

As a bit of a lightweight, I do that anyway!

We shall see how the evening goes, if I ever manage to chose an outfit.

I will apologise now for any drunked tweeting later ;)

Let the man hunt begin!

I Don’t Understand Men

20111201-211030.jpg

Whoever said women were confusing, was wrong. It’s the men. Definitely. They play games.

As I mentioned, I joined a socialising website to meet new people. I met a few people off it, but it was pointless. So I didn’t use the website much. The one thing I did do though was go clubbing every weekend in the West End. There was a host, and about 10/15 people who would go and it was great. I met some lovely people there who I still see and get on well with, and the ones I didn’t like, I didn’t have to talk to.

The host, liked to play games. He had a girlfriend when I met him, yet he still kissed me. He said he wasn’t her girlfriend. So I asked her, she seemed nice, and he seemed like a dick. He denied it completely and by the end of the night she was back with him giggling as he rubbed an ice cube down my arm, winked, and kissed her. A few weeks later she was dumped, no surprise. He would dance with all the girls on the nights out, and pull a few, but always go back to me. If I was dancing with someone else, he would be watching and come over. If I ignored him, he would try harder. He snogged a girl whilst stood next to me to make sure I could see, I ignored him, he then moved behind me to snog her and squeezed my bum. This girl, you could tell, was a clinger. She would not leave him alone for the rest of the night and argued with him for trying to dance with other girls. I thought it was hilarious. I’ve not been on a night out in a while, but text occasionally to see what clubs they’re going to. I said I wasn’t coming out tomorrow. He text me a heart back. I don’t understand. Little things like this confuse me. He said he just felt like sending it.

Then there’s another guy I dated. He could get me my own room at a posh hotel, free dinner with champagne and an unlimited bar tab (although, he wasn’t around at all apart from dinner). One night I got a little bit too drunk, security took me up to his room and we had sex, for about 30 seconds. Impressive right? Didn’t see him much after that. Not seen him in months. At midnight the other week he BBM’s me, pinged me, and rang me as I didn’t respond asking if I was out. I wasn’t and said my bb died as to why I didn’t reply. A week later he asked what I was doing, I said I was at my boyfriends. Oooooh get you!! Are you married yet. Strange reply I thought. Jealous? ;) I replied, as his response was a bit immature to say the least. A tad ;) he replied. So I haven’t seen this guy in months, and now he’s decided he’s jealous because I have a boyfriend. Men, you make no sense.

I don’t think I’ll ever understand!

My Story

20111130-211857.jpg

If you think mistress’s are horrible, man stealing, whorish bitches who are so disgusting they can’t find their own men, then yes, I would have to say at some point I would have to agree with you. I absolutely hate the idea. And part of me hates myself for getting in this situation. Okay, a big part.

I have friends who have stolen others boyfriends, and I’ve hated them for it. Of all the fish in the sea, why steal someone elses? This has also lead to other friends trying to commit suicide and a whole big mess. It’s horrible, heart breaking, and unfortunately to some worth trying to take your life.

Now I have a bit of a habit for dating complete dicks who treat me like shit and force all their insecurities on me. I don’t date them on purpose, you just don’t realise how much of a mess you’re in til afterwards.

This is pretty much what happened again in this case, although the guy isn’t a complete dick, as of yet.

I knew he was married. He was open about this from the start. We chatted online for months, nothing serious, just a bit of flirting. There was absolutely no intention of ‘stealing’ this guy at all. We got on quite well and he invited me out for drinks one night. As I was new to the city, I had joined a site which meant I was meeting new random people off the internet each week just to be friends and meet new people in the same boat as me. It wasn’t some shady kind of dating, just going out for drinks, seeing the city and then onto a club, nothing more. So meeting one more wasn’t going to hurt.

We met at a bar in the city. I had never been in the actual business part of the city before so felt completely out of place in my short dress and heels with everyone else in suits. Needless to say I stood out slighty. I just did not belong. After a few cocktails we went to a champagne bar. It was dead. Completely.

You know those scenes in the cheesy movie where the guy stretches and puts his arm around the girl? Yeah, he did that. I thought ‘he’s married, he’s married, he’s married… what the hell is he doing’. I sat further forwards and sipped the champagne wondering how on earth I ended up here.

The bar shut early, after he paid the ridiculously expensive bill, we grabbed a taxi and headed to my favourite club in the west end. Much more in my comfort zone. We seated at a discrete table where no one could see us to continue our drinks, and this is where it all went wrong. We were sat in a corner, with my legs crossed away from him and I had kept my jacket on as I was warming up from the minute walk from the taxi to inside the club. His hands started to wander up my legs. I glared at him as they did so. ‘You’re married, stop it’.He looked back disappointed, ‘Alright, if you don’t want me to’. A few minutes later his hands were wondering again, up my legs, under my jacket and he was getting closer to me. I moved my head away, he tried again. ‘No’ I said, getting quite annoyed. ‘Sorry, I just can’t resist, you look amazing’. I reminded him again ‘You’re married’. He looked at me, a little embarrassed. ‘We’re not together, I told her it was over months ago’. That was all it took for me to kiss him back. That’s how this little story all began.

Welcome to my life.