Once again I’ve been as slack as a pair granny pants with busted elastic, I apologise that I’ve not written for a while, I’ve been a little busy.
Drama unfolded with my ex yet again and I was given a full on talking to by several friends, my mother, received several wrist slaps (bruises to prove it) and I’m pretty sure my cat was giving me some very disapproving looks too. I made some (more) mistakes but I’m glad to report I’ve accepted that fact and put myself onto the road of recovery (for the umpteenth time I know).
I have done this in several dimensions;
1. Repeated to myself how pathetic he is, embellished the pathetic status in my mind and let it grow like Japanese knot weed.
2. Convinced myself he’s slept with girls that are riddled with diseases and now has knob rot.
3. Reminded myself daily what a loser I turn into if I let him in and remember I don’t suit a dunces hat.
4. Think; would I truly want to spend the rest of my life with an emotional retard? Um, no.
5. Found someone else.
Point five was a key one but I’ll come back to that.
If you’ve read my previous blogs you would know that I very stupidly started something again with an ex who is basically like arsenic to me but I have trouble realising it. I got girly and air headed about it, hopeful and let all my sense and reason drain from my being or in other words thought of my lustful urges rather than my mental stability.
He bobbed off traveling for a month and just before he went I let my guard down, granted it was enjoyable until I felt like a used jizz rag thrown to one side after he’d got his fill before jumping on a plane. In hindsight, this was a gift because sweet lord above I cursed him for the first time in ages.
I’ll admit I don’t hate him, neither think that much less of him but I have finally seen him as being a user (albeit a clueless one). "Hallelujah!" my friends cry.
Point two I have my over active imagination to thank for. I see one picture of him with a girl in the vague vicinity that looked a bit grim and I’ve worked out a whole scenario that he’s now riddled with every unpronounceable, puss filled, knob rotting disease there is. It’s worked wonders! My loins are no longer wanting anything to do with his.
When it comes to point 3 I don’t just have myself to rely on for this, I have my wonderful and caring friends (mainly one Geordie lass) who’s more than happy to tell me what a useless waste of space it turns me into and how my IQ drops to around 2 if I even entertain the idea. Maybe I also need to write lines on a blackboard “I will not fuck him ever again as each time I do I lose a brain cell and will be a vegetable by the time I’m 35”
I don’t think I really need to elaborate on point 4 do I?
Moving on to point 5...
Well, I don’t actually want to reveal much yet ha! He is lovely, funny, intelligent, grounded, not an emotional retard, attentive, confident, hot, sexy, fit, hello! and tall, great kisser, makes me giggle like a teenage girl and I’ve not even slept with him yet... (Give me another 48 hours and that will develop), he’s been in contact every day for at least 3 weeks and it’s not an effort!
I’m trying to not count my chickens as there’s still time for him to turn out to be a wally but I have (almost) everything crossed that he remains on this level and doesn’t suddenly take a nose dive into dickdom!
Wish me luck!!
Showing posts with label emotional retard. Show all posts
Showing posts with label emotional retard. Show all posts
Thursday, April 22, 2010
Monday, March 15, 2010
We’re all going on a summer holiday.
Firstly I better sincerely apologise for my lack of content over the last month, I’ve been on holiday and been struck down by an almighty stomach bug which I won’t give you the details of but put it this way; those 3lbs I put on whilst on holiday, gone.
I went to the Dominican Republic for my sunshine retreat, a tropical paradise I was lead to believe. This jaunt was to celebrate my mother’s 65th birthday so we thought somewhere to sunbathe, get spa treatments and just eat would do nicely. If you’ve ever been on holiday with a parent as you approach your 30’s and you’re single you will know what this can lead to; couple envy.
Where ever you pick to go away, doesn’t matter if it’s a beach holiday or a winter break you can guarantee that lovey dovey couples will be everywhere, shoving their bonking bliss in your face and this will plummet you into either pining after a lost love or have you scoping out for any other single that might be cute enough after a few cocktails.
Even when you go with a friend for example I will bet my last Rolo on the fact you’ll spend most of the time talking about your dirty rotten ex or that guy you simply must pursue on your return to Blighty. Being away with a parent is worse though, especially a mother, even more so mine.
I’m pretty honest with mine about my love life, I don’t go into the intimate details but she knows who’s featuring at the moment and what I feel about things that are happening. This however does not stop her suggesting I find someone suitable (less hard work) to settle down with. She has a very good memory when it comes to the men who have shown interest in me, a few have ticked the “would make a great son-in-law” box and she takes great pleasure in reminding me of these gents when things aren’t going to plan.
Unfortunately even though these “perfect” men aren’t for me, much to the disappointment of my dear Mama, when one texts me, who I haven’t heard from in months, whilst on my barren holiday for a nano second I am entertaining the idea of giving it another go... That’s what holidays do to me, turn me into a desperado.
You’re enjoying a beautiful walk down a breath taking bay just as the sun is rising, you should be thinking about the scenery, the wonders of nature but you’re not. You’re thinking; “I wish so-n-so was here”
It didn’t help that on this holiday for the first four days it fricking pissed it down and I was stuck playing cards and dominos inside for what seemed like eternity. Far too much time to think which led to far too many ridiculous thoughts and notions whirling around in my already vivid imagination. Are holidays a good idea when you are single? Of course the single girl and guy are 100% entitled to a holiday but when you reach a certain age where a boozy trip with 20 of your mates is no longer an option, mostly because half of them now have sprogs, is it a good idea to inflict this on yourself? Does it help or hinder?
I have had holidays where it’s been great to get away from certain situations in my life but I’ve also had others where being away from it has made it much, much worse. Beach holidays are the main culprit here. If you are on an adventure break with so many things to do and you don’t have time to think, you’re onto a winner. If you’re lounging around listening to Zero 7 then you’ve bagged yourself a one-way ticket to living hell.
The Dominican Republic is absolutely not a place for singles. In the resort we stayed in everyone was either on honeymoon, in the first blushes of romance, a 40 tonne heifer or gay. I was definitely thankful for the beautiful gay men at the end of it, something lovely to look at and wonderful company to bitch with. The heifers made me feel like a super model so they can come again but the ones that really pissed me off were the first blushes, one couple particularly.
The lady in question was your ultimate try hard, she was seriously over doing the attempt to be sexy and attentive thing. I had to restrain myself from going over and giving her a piece of my mind, it was pitiful. Although by the second day of us finally getting sunshine I did become slightly schadenfreude at the fact she had managed to give herself third degree burns with a token white stripe down both sides where she’d forgotten to turn over properly. Not so sexy now biatch. They were obviously in the very early stages on their relationship where things are all amazing, you don’t know your partner has deep, dark secrets and is about to turn your world upside down and completely wreck your eternal emotional stability and forever render you in a vast void of questions, paranoia and insecurities.
Ahem.... shit. Excuse me, the stomach bug coupled with the fact I’ve not eaten in two days made that outburst happen. Resuming sane behaviour... now.
My point is; when you are single and on holiday, surrounded by couples you can’t resist but to pick apart and analyse their body language, what type of couple you think they are and whether they will last. Well, you do if your single and female anyway.
Holidays aren’t meant to be depressing so if you are sans partner and intending a trip away with someone who might have the ability to push you into a cloud of self analysis, stay away from the quiet beach break. Go for a city break, they are much safer. You’re much more likely to find people that will interest and entertain you and it’s not so hard to escape the smoochy poochy pairs that you want to pour a pint of ice water over.
Best places I’ve been where thoughts of unrequited love have rarely entered my head; NYC, Vegas, Rome, Dublin, Miami, Madrid, Amsterdam and Key West. I spent far too much time sight seeing, shopping, eating and generally exploring to give a damn about the drama I’d left at home.
Take my advice, unless you’re young enough to get insanely out of it on the White Isle with 50 people you hardly know and come home not remembering a thing put the “Beach Break” brochure down and stick to the notion that you’re going on holiday for culture and not to spend it on a sun lounger, throwing yourself into a depression greater than 1926 and thinking of plots to rid the world of happy people.
Buy a map, a comfy pair of walking shoes and bloody well get moving. Stay still and you’ll go bonkers.
Oh, one more thing. Pack a mac, dominos wears thin after about 30 minutes.
I went to the Dominican Republic for my sunshine retreat, a tropical paradise I was lead to believe. This jaunt was to celebrate my mother’s 65th birthday so we thought somewhere to sunbathe, get spa treatments and just eat would do nicely. If you’ve ever been on holiday with a parent as you approach your 30’s and you’re single you will know what this can lead to; couple envy.
Where ever you pick to go away, doesn’t matter if it’s a beach holiday or a winter break you can guarantee that lovey dovey couples will be everywhere, shoving their bonking bliss in your face and this will plummet you into either pining after a lost love or have you scoping out for any other single that might be cute enough after a few cocktails.
Even when you go with a friend for example I will bet my last Rolo on the fact you’ll spend most of the time talking about your dirty rotten ex or that guy you simply must pursue on your return to Blighty. Being away with a parent is worse though, especially a mother, even more so mine.
I’m pretty honest with mine about my love life, I don’t go into the intimate details but she knows who’s featuring at the moment and what I feel about things that are happening. This however does not stop her suggesting I find someone suitable (less hard work) to settle down with. She has a very good memory when it comes to the men who have shown interest in me, a few have ticked the “would make a great son-in-law” box and she takes great pleasure in reminding me of these gents when things aren’t going to plan.
Unfortunately even though these “perfect” men aren’t for me, much to the disappointment of my dear Mama, when one texts me, who I haven’t heard from in months, whilst on my barren holiday for a nano second I am entertaining the idea of giving it another go... That’s what holidays do to me, turn me into a desperado.
You’re enjoying a beautiful walk down a breath taking bay just as the sun is rising, you should be thinking about the scenery, the wonders of nature but you’re not. You’re thinking; “I wish so-n-so was here”
It didn’t help that on this holiday for the first four days it fricking pissed it down and I was stuck playing cards and dominos inside for what seemed like eternity. Far too much time to think which led to far too many ridiculous thoughts and notions whirling around in my already vivid imagination. Are holidays a good idea when you are single? Of course the single girl and guy are 100% entitled to a holiday but when you reach a certain age where a boozy trip with 20 of your mates is no longer an option, mostly because half of them now have sprogs, is it a good idea to inflict this on yourself? Does it help or hinder?
I have had holidays where it’s been great to get away from certain situations in my life but I’ve also had others where being away from it has made it much, much worse. Beach holidays are the main culprit here. If you are on an adventure break with so many things to do and you don’t have time to think, you’re onto a winner. If you’re lounging around listening to Zero 7 then you’ve bagged yourself a one-way ticket to living hell.
The Dominican Republic is absolutely not a place for singles. In the resort we stayed in everyone was either on honeymoon, in the first blushes of romance, a 40 tonne heifer or gay. I was definitely thankful for the beautiful gay men at the end of it, something lovely to look at and wonderful company to bitch with. The heifers made me feel like a super model so they can come again but the ones that really pissed me off were the first blushes, one couple particularly.
The lady in question was your ultimate try hard, she was seriously over doing the attempt to be sexy and attentive thing. I had to restrain myself from going over and giving her a piece of my mind, it was pitiful. Although by the second day of us finally getting sunshine I did become slightly schadenfreude at the fact she had managed to give herself third degree burns with a token white stripe down both sides where she’d forgotten to turn over properly. Not so sexy now biatch. They were obviously in the very early stages on their relationship where things are all amazing, you don’t know your partner has deep, dark secrets and is about to turn your world upside down and completely wreck your eternal emotional stability and forever render you in a vast void of questions, paranoia and insecurities.
Ahem.... shit. Excuse me, the stomach bug coupled with the fact I’ve not eaten in two days made that outburst happen. Resuming sane behaviour... now.
My point is; when you are single and on holiday, surrounded by couples you can’t resist but to pick apart and analyse their body language, what type of couple you think they are and whether they will last. Well, you do if your single and female anyway.
Holidays aren’t meant to be depressing so if you are sans partner and intending a trip away with someone who might have the ability to push you into a cloud of self analysis, stay away from the quiet beach break. Go for a city break, they are much safer. You’re much more likely to find people that will interest and entertain you and it’s not so hard to escape the smoochy poochy pairs that you want to pour a pint of ice water over.
Best places I’ve been where thoughts of unrequited love have rarely entered my head; NYC, Vegas, Rome, Dublin, Miami, Madrid, Amsterdam and Key West. I spent far too much time sight seeing, shopping, eating and generally exploring to give a damn about the drama I’d left at home.
Take my advice, unless you’re young enough to get insanely out of it on the White Isle with 50 people you hardly know and come home not remembering a thing put the “Beach Break” brochure down and stick to the notion that you’re going on holiday for culture and not to spend it on a sun lounger, throwing yourself into a depression greater than 1926 and thinking of plots to rid the world of happy people.
Buy a map, a comfy pair of walking shoes and bloody well get moving. Stay still and you’ll go bonkers.
Oh, one more thing. Pack a mac, dominos wears thin after about 30 minutes.
Friday, February 12, 2010
Duck and cover, that day is on the horizon.
So the number one dreaded day for singles is upon us, anti Valentine's Day groups are appearing all over the web, scorned women are organising gatherings to burn reminders of their lost loves and every shop in the land looks like its interior decorations have been based on a giddy teenage girl’s doodle book.
I’ve never been a fan of the 14th February, whether I’m in a relationship or not, it’s like NYE but with heart shaped chocolates that taste like dog treats and half dead flowers that cost the earth. You can never get a reservation at the restaurant you want to and even if you do, your dinner is spoilt by the vomit inducing sight of two spotty teenagers in the first blush of lust who know nothing about all the shit that’s coming their way.
Gosh that makes me sound bitter doesn’t it? I’m not (well maybe a little) but I disagree about the fact that so much pressure and cost is put on a couple (and singles) for one day of the year.
Singles are put under forced house arrest for the day and for weeks before are made to feel like they are being pitied as they walk down the aisle that’s littered with cards for “The best person in the world” with their focus remaining firmly forward and not purchasing anything. Just a reminder that you aren’t anyone’s “special person” laced with glitter and images of cute cuddly cats. Do you stop to pretend you’re looking for a card just to avoid their “poor you” eyes?
Every email I’ve got in the last few weeks from companies I loyally buy from have insulted me. All of the promotions they have on offer are for the loved up elite, what about us lot that are going to be dining for one eh? No special discounts for us? Single-ist behaviour if I’ve ever seen it! I might sue.
You can’t get away from the bloody saga, even when I’m out on a Saturday night and using the bathroom at my local I’m confronted with two giggly young girls talking about the spag bol their amazing boyfriend’s are cooking for them, he’s even getting candles. Oh please, spaghetti bolognese? They could at least cook something that doesn’t feature in the regular weekly diet of the population of the UK.
I was presented by one fascinating article about Valentine’s yesterday though, one I actually enjoyed reading. Here it is for your amusement too:
http://www.theonion.com/content/news/20_000_tons_of_pubic_hair_trimmed
That’s the kind of thing I want arriving in my inbox!
So anyway, want to know what I’m doing on Sunday? I admit this with some shame in my tone of voice... I’m spending the night with my ex, I know, I know. Pitiful isn’t it? In my defense when I organised the meeting I didn’t realise the date as I’ve purposefully ignored my calender now for at least a week. All the same though, I am kind of relieved that at least I won’t be spending it alone, no matter how complicated and ridiculous it may appear from the outside. The reasons behind this happening is a whole other story and one I’m sure you will all berate me for but hey ho. Chinese takeaway for TWO coming my way.
The sad fact of it is this; we all scramble to find someone before this day so we’re not sat in front of the TV with a large glass of wine, alone, watching some movie that we know is going to make us a shareholder in Kleenex.
No matter how much you try to convince yourself it’s just another day you’re going to fail. You might get to lunch time, maybe even tea time but I guarantee that at some point in the day you’re going to get that self pitying pang of “poor me” and possibly write a scorning letter to Hallmark blaming them for all the wrongs in this world.
The only option for the singles is to invite other singles around for the evening, to not go near any cinema, restaurant, in fact any public place, keep the curtains closed and watch a slasher movie. I wonder how many hours will be spent cursing ex boyfriend’s and girlfriend’s? I bet the words “I hate them” will be said more than “I love you”, not something Hallmark are going to promote though, maybe they should. Clearly an untapped market.
To those of you in relationships I hope you’re going to live up to your partner’s unrealistic expectations of the day, if you don’t, more fool you. To the singles, I recommend marshmallows, The Shining and a bottle of Malbec.
And lastly, please don’t judge me too much because I bet given the chance, you’d have done the same! (You probably wouldn’t but I’m going to keep telling myself that for now)
If nothing more, I bet I’ll get a blog out of it.
I’ve never been a fan of the 14th February, whether I’m in a relationship or not, it’s like NYE but with heart shaped chocolates that taste like dog treats and half dead flowers that cost the earth. You can never get a reservation at the restaurant you want to and even if you do, your dinner is spoilt by the vomit inducing sight of two spotty teenagers in the first blush of lust who know nothing about all the shit that’s coming their way.
Gosh that makes me sound bitter doesn’t it? I’m not (well maybe a little) but I disagree about the fact that so much pressure and cost is put on a couple (and singles) for one day of the year.
Singles are put under forced house arrest for the day and for weeks before are made to feel like they are being pitied as they walk down the aisle that’s littered with cards for “The best person in the world” with their focus remaining firmly forward and not purchasing anything. Just a reminder that you aren’t anyone’s “special person” laced with glitter and images of cute cuddly cats. Do you stop to pretend you’re looking for a card just to avoid their “poor you” eyes?
Every email I’ve got in the last few weeks from companies I loyally buy from have insulted me. All of the promotions they have on offer are for the loved up elite, what about us lot that are going to be dining for one eh? No special discounts for us? Single-ist behaviour if I’ve ever seen it! I might sue.
You can’t get away from the bloody saga, even when I’m out on a Saturday night and using the bathroom at my local I’m confronted with two giggly young girls talking about the spag bol their amazing boyfriend’s are cooking for them, he’s even getting candles. Oh please, spaghetti bolognese? They could at least cook something that doesn’t feature in the regular weekly diet of the population of the UK.
I was presented by one fascinating article about Valentine’s yesterday though, one I actually enjoyed reading. Here it is for your amusement too:
http://www.theonion.com/content/news/20_000_tons_of_pubic_hair_trimmed
That’s the kind of thing I want arriving in my inbox!
So anyway, want to know what I’m doing on Sunday? I admit this with some shame in my tone of voice... I’m spending the night with my ex, I know, I know. Pitiful isn’t it? In my defense when I organised the meeting I didn’t realise the date as I’ve purposefully ignored my calender now for at least a week. All the same though, I am kind of relieved that at least I won’t be spending it alone, no matter how complicated and ridiculous it may appear from the outside. The reasons behind this happening is a whole other story and one I’m sure you will all berate me for but hey ho. Chinese takeaway for TWO coming my way.
The sad fact of it is this; we all scramble to find someone before this day so we’re not sat in front of the TV with a large glass of wine, alone, watching some movie that we know is going to make us a shareholder in Kleenex.
No matter how much you try to convince yourself it’s just another day you’re going to fail. You might get to lunch time, maybe even tea time but I guarantee that at some point in the day you’re going to get that self pitying pang of “poor me” and possibly write a scorning letter to Hallmark blaming them for all the wrongs in this world.
The only option for the singles is to invite other singles around for the evening, to not go near any cinema, restaurant, in fact any public place, keep the curtains closed and watch a slasher movie. I wonder how many hours will be spent cursing ex boyfriend’s and girlfriend’s? I bet the words “I hate them” will be said more than “I love you”, not something Hallmark are going to promote though, maybe they should. Clearly an untapped market.
To those of you in relationships I hope you’re going to live up to your partner’s unrealistic expectations of the day, if you don’t, more fool you. To the singles, I recommend marshmallows, The Shining and a bottle of Malbec.
And lastly, please don’t judge me too much because I bet given the chance, you’d have done the same! (You probably wouldn’t but I’m going to keep telling myself that for now)
If nothing more, I bet I’ll get a blog out of it.
Monday, February 1, 2010
How much does physical beauty really matter?
It’s believed that you make a decision on whether you fancy someone within seconds of meeting them, so how does this stand by the statement that many people make that they go for personality rather than looks? Personally I think that’s a crock of shit.
Of course personality is an important part but not initially. There has to be a physical attraction between two people for a relationship even to get to first base but does that need for chemistry sometimes mean we become shamelessly shallow?
Have any of you ever heard of the website www.beautifulpeople.com ? If you haven’t I shall try to explain its purpose. It was started some years ago now as a dating site for people that class themselves as “beautiful”, we’re not talking inside and out beautiful, here we mean only model, perfect, toned, manicured and hairsprayed beautiful.
If you go to their sign up page their USPs are as follows...
Do looks matter to you, when it comes to selecting a partner?
Do you want to guarantee your dates will always be beautiful?
No more filtering through unattractive people on mainstream sites.
What jumps out first to me is the people that you’re going to meet on this site are on the whole going to be as dull as dish water but look fit as f***. So if you’re just looking for a one nighter, all good. If you want intelligent, stimulating conversation that has a two way street and isn’t permanently consumed by ego stroking this site may not be for you.
And this isn’t the worst part...
To keep “ugly” people away from this site there is a brutal voting system to allow people to join. You upload a picture and existing members basically tell you whether you’re gorgeous or an utter dog. If you don’t get an above average rating, you’ve got no chance!
When you do get in, it’s not any nicer either. I signed up a while ago now just to see what kind of people would actually go on this site and intended to have a bit of a joke at their expense. To be honest, the site renders me a little speechless. I’ve heard some terrible chat up lines before and given some knock backs but never have I had the reply “Your loss, plenty of other dumbass bimbos on here that’ll have me”
Yeah, that pretty much says it all, thanks.
What’s made me think is the fact that this site has become a successful and profitable business for several years. It has members from all over the world who honestly and openly admit that they will only date people who they believe are on the same “beautiful” scale as them. How many more people are out there that think like this?
I think all of us are a little shallow in some respects, I’ll admit I am anyway. I’ve turned down guys because they wear god awful shoes or have an abnormally large head or short body but I’d like to think I’m not picking apart every potential partner until there’s nothing left but wondering if their eyes are symmetrical and if they’ll make me look good.
Most people have a “type” but I’ve never really been able to determine mine when it comes to looks. Personality wise I prefer to go for strong characters, those who are capable of banter, have a slightly darker side and are able to let their hair down and laugh at themselves. It’s also important to me that they are well educated, worldly wise and interested in what I am otherwise I tend to get bored incredibly quickly.
The last few men I’ve been attracted to have only had one thing in common; brown hair. The rest has been completely different. One was extremely toned and athletic, relatively good dresser, average but good looking face, average height. Second was tall, slim, covered in tattoos, pretty trendy dresser to the point of vanity. The third was a Pete Doherty look alike who even swaggered the same, dressed as if he was a tortured musician and looked like he was undressing you with every blink.
So I suppose you could say I am attracted to men with individuality about them and those who don’t have blonde hair. If you had to define your “type” what do you think it would be? Would you limit it so far that you will only go for a certain standard of person? Or do you believe that lust holds no bounds and can surprise you at every turn?
One question that’s always bothered me is this, and I warn you it may sounds terrible. Are we genetically tuned to fancy people only within our reach? For example, people that are classed slightly less attractive than the average seem to happily merge together when someone of an above average attractiveness may not fancy them. Do we have an inbuilt limit on those we are drawn to so we don’t set our sights too high? Or do we self deprecate and go for those who we believe are within our reach so we don’t get shot down in flames?
Do you ever settle when it comes to looks? Do you ever worry that you only fancy people who are out of your league?
Of course personality is an important part but not initially. There has to be a physical attraction between two people for a relationship even to get to first base but does that need for chemistry sometimes mean we become shamelessly shallow?
Have any of you ever heard of the website www.beautifulpeople.com ? If you haven’t I shall try to explain its purpose. It was started some years ago now as a dating site for people that class themselves as “beautiful”, we’re not talking inside and out beautiful, here we mean only model, perfect, toned, manicured and hairsprayed beautiful.
If you go to their sign up page their USPs are as follows...
Do looks matter to you, when it comes to selecting a partner?
Do you want to guarantee your dates will always be beautiful?
No more filtering through unattractive people on mainstream sites.
What jumps out first to me is the people that you’re going to meet on this site are on the whole going to be as dull as dish water but look fit as f***. So if you’re just looking for a one nighter, all good. If you want intelligent, stimulating conversation that has a two way street and isn’t permanently consumed by ego stroking this site may not be for you.
And this isn’t the worst part...
To keep “ugly” people away from this site there is a brutal voting system to allow people to join. You upload a picture and existing members basically tell you whether you’re gorgeous or an utter dog. If you don’t get an above average rating, you’ve got no chance!
When you do get in, it’s not any nicer either. I signed up a while ago now just to see what kind of people would actually go on this site and intended to have a bit of a joke at their expense. To be honest, the site renders me a little speechless. I’ve heard some terrible chat up lines before and given some knock backs but never have I had the reply “Your loss, plenty of other dumbass bimbos on here that’ll have me”
Yeah, that pretty much says it all, thanks.
What’s made me think is the fact that this site has become a successful and profitable business for several years. It has members from all over the world who honestly and openly admit that they will only date people who they believe are on the same “beautiful” scale as them. How many more people are out there that think like this?
I think all of us are a little shallow in some respects, I’ll admit I am anyway. I’ve turned down guys because they wear god awful shoes or have an abnormally large head or short body but I’d like to think I’m not picking apart every potential partner until there’s nothing left but wondering if their eyes are symmetrical and if they’ll make me look good.
Most people have a “type” but I’ve never really been able to determine mine when it comes to looks. Personality wise I prefer to go for strong characters, those who are capable of banter, have a slightly darker side and are able to let their hair down and laugh at themselves. It’s also important to me that they are well educated, worldly wise and interested in what I am otherwise I tend to get bored incredibly quickly.
The last few men I’ve been attracted to have only had one thing in common; brown hair. The rest has been completely different. One was extremely toned and athletic, relatively good dresser, average but good looking face, average height. Second was tall, slim, covered in tattoos, pretty trendy dresser to the point of vanity. The third was a Pete Doherty look alike who even swaggered the same, dressed as if he was a tortured musician and looked like he was undressing you with every blink.
So I suppose you could say I am attracted to men with individuality about them and those who don’t have blonde hair. If you had to define your “type” what do you think it would be? Would you limit it so far that you will only go for a certain standard of person? Or do you believe that lust holds no bounds and can surprise you at every turn?
One question that’s always bothered me is this, and I warn you it may sounds terrible. Are we genetically tuned to fancy people only within our reach? For example, people that are classed slightly less attractive than the average seem to happily merge together when someone of an above average attractiveness may not fancy them. Do we have an inbuilt limit on those we are drawn to so we don’t set our sights too high? Or do we self deprecate and go for those who we believe are within our reach so we don’t get shot down in flames?
Do you ever settle when it comes to looks? Do you ever worry that you only fancy people who are out of your league?
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Dating sites...The bad and the down right ugly.
Now I am not about to give you an ultimate “how to” guide here because I’ve not properly used a dating site before. I usually log on to them, search through the men on offer and become throughly depressed that someone actually wants to make me pay to talk to these ugly rotters!
Not only are some of them related to Shrek but they think up the worse usernames they possibly can. Here are some examples I’ve found today on one of the free dating sites out there;
1. Vibrator Terminator - This guy would give any girl the need for an Ann Summers loyalty card more like.
2. Biglad27 - Looking at his profile he’s 5ft 6, looks about 10 when he says he’s 27 and if what his profile leads you to believe is true his name should be; Bigliarliarpantsonfire10.
3. Adoness - Not only can he not spell it right but I just hope to god he’s being ironic.
4. Junglefun - Am I going to require immunisation to go near him?
5. SpunkyJon12” - Ahhh man, where do I even start with this one?
So I try, in the name of research, to force myself to read some of their profiles, here’s a few examples of what they have written.
1. Well im type of guy who tends to get on with everyone, Im always up for a laugh, & thinks you shud never regrets anything that makes you smile. I live for today as you dont know what tomorrow bring. I treat people like i would like to be treat myself. I hate liers,cheats, and crulety and snooty gets who think there better than others, Also dislike two faced people
Ok, firstly, he is using text speak on the internet. A place where there is no character limit and nothing stopping him using the full and proper spelling of words. Massive flaw in my eyes, what else is he going to cut corners with?
He finishes his badly written description with. “How about you sit on my lap and we'll talk about the first thing that pops up?”
I don’t know whether to be disgusted, to pity him or report him for the worst line EVA (see what I did there)
2. I am a keen rugby player who is looking for adult fun with suitable ladies aged between 18 and 40. I am able to travel and would also consider a perminant relationship with the right person.
So basically he’s after no strings sex with a shed load of women whatever age they are and rings sex lines in his spare time and probably visits “massage parlors”
3. i love to have lazy days cuddle up in front of the fire watching movie with a special someone to share the sofa and blanket with.
you bring yourself and i will get the choc out the fridge and i'll chill the bottle of wine ready with two glasses
Ummm, someone pass me a bucket? And a dictionary.
4. Imagine hearing your name in a song...how would you feel if you knew it was about you? Your hopes and aspirations; your dreams and passions; how your wary exterior melts as you get to know someone; how I notice the goose pimples on your soft flesh raise when you’re shaking with nerves; how a devilish twinkle can be seen through your sultry eyed stare; how the curve of your smile lights up the room; how your long luscious hair blows in a Summer's breeze; how the curves of your silhouette dance across the crisp grass in the Autumn moonlight...well maybe I’ll write it for you...one day...
I’m sorry, give me a second, I need to catch my breath from laughing too hard. Do women actually fall for this? Am I a cold hearted bitch or is this super vomit inducing?
5. Never know what to write on these things so message me if you’re interested.
I see this one has a huge creative flare, I bet the conversations would be immense.
Granted among these, um, gems, there are some profiles that are interesting to read but then a good percentage of these let themselves down with some god awful pictures. Lads, you in a skanky towel that’s clearly not been washed in months, in your bedroom that’s not been redecorated since your 7th birthday and pouting (what you think is seductively at the camera) will only win you ladies that want a “project” and there aren’t very many of those around.
So gentlemen here are my top 5 tips to help you on dating sites.
1. Learn the English language and use spell check just to make sure.
2. Get a close female friend to vet the picture you’re putting on, or even better get her to take one of you.
3. Don’t write the words “cuddles, smoochy, snuggles, kwisses or huggies” anywhere in the public domain. For your self dignity alone.
4. Likewise do not use these terms “up the arse, hard and fast fuck, spunk junkie, 12” throbbing trojan or big tits” You will appear to be an arse.
5. Be yourself, don’t hide behind the fact it’s internet dating. Believe me you’ll get busted eventually.
Not only are some of them related to Shrek but they think up the worse usernames they possibly can. Here are some examples I’ve found today on one of the free dating sites out there;
1. Vibrator Terminator - This guy would give any girl the need for an Ann Summers loyalty card more like.
2. Biglad27 - Looking at his profile he’s 5ft 6, looks about 10 when he says he’s 27 and if what his profile leads you to believe is true his name should be; Bigliarliarpantsonfire10.
3. Adoness - Not only can he not spell it right but I just hope to god he’s being ironic.
4. Junglefun - Am I going to require immunisation to go near him?
5. SpunkyJon12” - Ahhh man, where do I even start with this one?
So I try, in the name of research, to force myself to read some of their profiles, here’s a few examples of what they have written.
1. Well im type of guy who tends to get on with everyone, Im always up for a laugh, & thinks you shud never regrets anything that makes you smile. I live for today as you dont know what tomorrow bring. I treat people like i would like to be treat myself. I hate liers,cheats, and crulety and snooty gets who think there better than others, Also dislike two faced people
Ok, firstly, he is using text speak on the internet. A place where there is no character limit and nothing stopping him using the full and proper spelling of words. Massive flaw in my eyes, what else is he going to cut corners with?
He finishes his badly written description with. “How about you sit on my lap and we'll talk about the first thing that pops up?”
I don’t know whether to be disgusted, to pity him or report him for the worst line EVA (see what I did there)
2. I am a keen rugby player who is looking for adult fun with suitable ladies aged between 18 and 40. I am able to travel and would also consider a perminant relationship with the right person.
So basically he’s after no strings sex with a shed load of women whatever age they are and rings sex lines in his spare time and probably visits “massage parlors”
3. i love to have lazy days cuddle up in front of the fire watching movie with a special someone to share the sofa and blanket with.
you bring yourself and i will get the choc out the fridge and i'll chill the bottle of wine ready with two glasses
Ummm, someone pass me a bucket? And a dictionary.
4. Imagine hearing your name in a song...how would you feel if you knew it was about you? Your hopes and aspirations; your dreams and passions; how your wary exterior melts as you get to know someone; how I notice the goose pimples on your soft flesh raise when you’re shaking with nerves; how a devilish twinkle can be seen through your sultry eyed stare; how the curve of your smile lights up the room; how your long luscious hair blows in a Summer's breeze; how the curves of your silhouette dance across the crisp grass in the Autumn moonlight...well maybe I’ll write it for you...one day...
I’m sorry, give me a second, I need to catch my breath from laughing too hard. Do women actually fall for this? Am I a cold hearted bitch or is this super vomit inducing?
5. Never know what to write on these things so message me if you’re interested.
I see this one has a huge creative flare, I bet the conversations would be immense.
Granted among these, um, gems, there are some profiles that are interesting to read but then a good percentage of these let themselves down with some god awful pictures. Lads, you in a skanky towel that’s clearly not been washed in months, in your bedroom that’s not been redecorated since your 7th birthday and pouting (what you think is seductively at the camera) will only win you ladies that want a “project” and there aren’t very many of those around.
So gentlemen here are my top 5 tips to help you on dating sites.
1. Learn the English language and use spell check just to make sure.
2. Get a close female friend to vet the picture you’re putting on, or even better get her to take one of you.
3. Don’t write the words “cuddles, smoochy, snuggles, kwisses or huggies” anywhere in the public domain. For your self dignity alone.
4. Likewise do not use these terms “up the arse, hard and fast fuck, spunk junkie, 12” throbbing trojan or big tits” You will appear to be an arse.
5. Be yourself, don’t hide behind the fact it’s internet dating. Believe me you’ll get busted eventually.
Thursday, January 21, 2010
“The English simply cannot talk about sex without making a joke of it” - Kate Fox.
As part of my research for a client I am working for I am looking into the English culture and how we conduct ourselves on a daily basis. Although this article for them will not include our outlook on sex and dating my research has stumbled on people documenting our behaviour and it has certainly raised a few questions for me.
Kate Fox, who’s written in length about how the English react to certain social situations, basically believes that we are unable to talk about sex in a serious or straight forward manner but prefer to make “Carry-On” style jokes and quips about it to deflect our embarrassment. In some respects I agree with her, I’ve been guilty of spinning one liners about my sex life (see all previous blogs) in an attempt to deal with its consequences but I don’t believe every Englishmen is incapable of knowing what they want from their sex life and knowing how to get it.
English men have gained an unenviable reputation for being awful flirts, the term socially inept has been used to describe them by our international counterparts in the past. Our chat up lines are probably the worst around the world and we are often unable to talk to strangers in unfamiliar situations unlike the Americans for example. We are taught to be wary of people we don’t know, if you walked up to someone in a train station for example and attempted to strike up a conversation you would almost certainly be shot down with a look that could kill.
I spent three months in Florida not that long ago, for the majority of the time I was quite content toddling off exploring on my own but to begin with found it extremely unsettling at how many people were quite happy to chat away to me even though they’d never seen me before. Two months in and I began to let my guard down and return the initiation but certainly to start with I only reciprocated the conversation as I was on their turf and worried I might appear ignorant.
It is such an alien custom to the English to talk to strangers so how we have ever managed to keep our population going for so long is almost a mystery! My interaction with the American men was totally different to how English men approach me. I think in the 3 months I spent in Florida I got chatted up in bars etc more times than I have in a whole year in the UK. We have much stricter barriers when it comes to the do’s and don’ts of approaching the opposite sex, we dance around the issue quite awkwardly before any kind of direct contact is made. Thank god the internet came along when it did.
What would we do if flirting on the internet or via text messages wasn’t an option? Doesn’t really bare thinking about now we have it. I am a self confessed flirt, I am quite skilled when it comes to innuendos and eye fluttering, probably to the point where it has become to be an addiction but I know plenty of people both male and female that find it extremely difficult to put themselves out there. Is this because of our culture then? To be born in England makes us naturally designed to be totally crap at showing we are interested in the hot piece of ass holding the bar up?
Something else Kate Fox mentions in her book is what she called the “SAS test” which stands for “Sociability, Alcohol and Shared Interest” She certainly has a point about the need for alcohol when it comes to flirting. What she means by this is that you need each element for an English person to be successful at bagging a potential mate. So if you are in a bar for example you have the social aspect and the booze but you might not have the shared interest... they could be train spotters but you on the other hand could be a stamp collector. There’s no way of telling when you’re in your local pub. Transfer this into a club however each person is in there because they enjoy that type of music so you have an instant connection but another thing she rightly points out is the ‘too cool for school’ element that factors in when you’re in a nightclub, exceptionally so when it’s a specialist nightclub (not your cheesy pop 1’s and 2’s)
I know from first hand experience that certain types of people that are fully immersed into their favourite music can be pretentious to say the least. I’ve been part of that fraternity. My friends and I went regularly to a club to experience the music together, we certainly never went to “pull” and if anything it was frowned upon to be seen kissing or even flirting with someone whilst on the dance floor. You were there to listen and boogie, not to get your leg over.
I won’t warble on about all the other examples given but if you fancy reading more go and check it out at your library - ‘Watching the English’ by Kate Fox.
What I found most striking at the things I’ve read over the last few days is that if you were an outsider looking in the English would appear to see flirting / dating as an after thought and not a priority as other cultures might. Of course this isn’t the case but because we are instinctively an awkward race we prefer to outwardly focus on our hobbies, interests and friends for example rather than appear to be actively searching for a partner.
It begs the question why? Why is it seen as a taboo subject to be on the look out and trying to discover the person for you? Why do we see it as almost shameful?
Questions I am yet to discover the answers too... back to the drawing board for me.
Kate Fox, who’s written in length about how the English react to certain social situations, basically believes that we are unable to talk about sex in a serious or straight forward manner but prefer to make “Carry-On” style jokes and quips about it to deflect our embarrassment. In some respects I agree with her, I’ve been guilty of spinning one liners about my sex life (see all previous blogs) in an attempt to deal with its consequences but I don’t believe every Englishmen is incapable of knowing what they want from their sex life and knowing how to get it.
English men have gained an unenviable reputation for being awful flirts, the term socially inept has been used to describe them by our international counterparts in the past. Our chat up lines are probably the worst around the world and we are often unable to talk to strangers in unfamiliar situations unlike the Americans for example. We are taught to be wary of people we don’t know, if you walked up to someone in a train station for example and attempted to strike up a conversation you would almost certainly be shot down with a look that could kill.
I spent three months in Florida not that long ago, for the majority of the time I was quite content toddling off exploring on my own but to begin with found it extremely unsettling at how many people were quite happy to chat away to me even though they’d never seen me before. Two months in and I began to let my guard down and return the initiation but certainly to start with I only reciprocated the conversation as I was on their turf and worried I might appear ignorant.
It is such an alien custom to the English to talk to strangers so how we have ever managed to keep our population going for so long is almost a mystery! My interaction with the American men was totally different to how English men approach me. I think in the 3 months I spent in Florida I got chatted up in bars etc more times than I have in a whole year in the UK. We have much stricter barriers when it comes to the do’s and don’ts of approaching the opposite sex, we dance around the issue quite awkwardly before any kind of direct contact is made. Thank god the internet came along when it did.
What would we do if flirting on the internet or via text messages wasn’t an option? Doesn’t really bare thinking about now we have it. I am a self confessed flirt, I am quite skilled when it comes to innuendos and eye fluttering, probably to the point where it has become to be an addiction but I know plenty of people both male and female that find it extremely difficult to put themselves out there. Is this because of our culture then? To be born in England makes us naturally designed to be totally crap at showing we are interested in the hot piece of ass holding the bar up?
Something else Kate Fox mentions in her book is what she called the “SAS test” which stands for “Sociability, Alcohol and Shared Interest” She certainly has a point about the need for alcohol when it comes to flirting. What she means by this is that you need each element for an English person to be successful at bagging a potential mate. So if you are in a bar for example you have the social aspect and the booze but you might not have the shared interest... they could be train spotters but you on the other hand could be a stamp collector. There’s no way of telling when you’re in your local pub. Transfer this into a club however each person is in there because they enjoy that type of music so you have an instant connection but another thing she rightly points out is the ‘too cool for school’ element that factors in when you’re in a nightclub, exceptionally so when it’s a specialist nightclub (not your cheesy pop 1’s and 2’s)
I know from first hand experience that certain types of people that are fully immersed into their favourite music can be pretentious to say the least. I’ve been part of that fraternity. My friends and I went regularly to a club to experience the music together, we certainly never went to “pull” and if anything it was frowned upon to be seen kissing or even flirting with someone whilst on the dance floor. You were there to listen and boogie, not to get your leg over.
I won’t warble on about all the other examples given but if you fancy reading more go and check it out at your library - ‘Watching the English’ by Kate Fox.
What I found most striking at the things I’ve read over the last few days is that if you were an outsider looking in the English would appear to see flirting / dating as an after thought and not a priority as other cultures might. Of course this isn’t the case but because we are instinctively an awkward race we prefer to outwardly focus on our hobbies, interests and friends for example rather than appear to be actively searching for a partner.
It begs the question why? Why is it seen as a taboo subject to be on the look out and trying to discover the person for you? Why do we see it as almost shameful?
Questions I am yet to discover the answers too... back to the drawing board for me.
Sunday, January 17, 2010
Sleeping killer..
Mentioning “pump, pump, squirt” in my last blog jogged memories of other cringe worthy or slightly shocking incidents that have entered themselves in the index of my colourful life. A lot of these stories have given my friends many hysterical laughing fits so I thought I’d share the love and give all of you a giggle too.
One of the all time funniest and also scary episodes of my story is when I was dating a chap from Leeds that I’d met through mutual friends. We’d been together for about a month and it was going really well, we’d have some fantastic dates, spent hours on the phone talking and had so much in common that I really thought I was onto a bit of a winner.
The weekend arrived that we’d planned I was going to stay at his for the first time, he’d cooked me a fabulous meal, we’d spent the evening chatting and getting cosy in his local bar then as time progressed it was clear that the chocolate brownies he’d made weren’t the only thing we’d be having for dessert.
We retired to his room and began getting down to business. It was nice, pretty standard if I’m going to be brutally honest but sometimes the first night with a guy isn’t all fireworks and you have to give it a while to get to know each other so this wasn’t a negative point in my mind until we snuggled up and drifted off to sleep.
Now unlike some ladies I don’t enjoy having someone’s body wrapped around me all night, an arm over me to begin with is acceptable, suffocating me for a whole eight hours is not what adds up to a great night’s sleep for me so I gave it a little time for him to fall into a deep enough slumber for me to carefully untangle myself and break free.
I had noticed he’d begun to grind his teeth and make some particularly odd noises as he obviously began dreaming which I found highly amusing but it also made me want to roll away even more. My foot was under his at this point, I was lying on my back and he was on his side with his arm over me. I gently removed his arm and went to slide my foot away from his so I could turn over.
To my horror this movement made him jump upright in bed and shout “MOVE YOUR FUCKING FOOT BACK, MOVE IT BACK NOW!”
“You what?!” I gasped. No reply.
I looked over in utter bemusement and noticed he was still asleep and carried on making some massively loud and strange mumbling noises, at this point I can safely say I thought I was laying next to a sleep talking axe murderer.
So I move my foot back and remain rigidly still for at least another hour as I frantically thought about what to do next. I couldn’t lay there until he wakes or risk him doing that or more! Then the arm comes back over, this time much nearer to my neck than I’m comfortable with, is it this point where he begins to squeeze the life out of me?
I managed to reach my phone and send an emergency “get me out of here” text message to my friend who was also spending the night in Leeds and I’d given a lift to. She rang with some fake crisis that woke him up and I made my excuses, got dressed quicker than I had ever before and ran out the door with only one shoe on.
I was back home before the sun had risen and thanked my lucky stars I’d not been a story line for the 9 o’clock news.
It goes without saying I didn’t ever see him again.
One of the all time funniest and also scary episodes of my story is when I was dating a chap from Leeds that I’d met through mutual friends. We’d been together for about a month and it was going really well, we’d have some fantastic dates, spent hours on the phone talking and had so much in common that I really thought I was onto a bit of a winner.
The weekend arrived that we’d planned I was going to stay at his for the first time, he’d cooked me a fabulous meal, we’d spent the evening chatting and getting cosy in his local bar then as time progressed it was clear that the chocolate brownies he’d made weren’t the only thing we’d be having for dessert.
We retired to his room and began getting down to business. It was nice, pretty standard if I’m going to be brutally honest but sometimes the first night with a guy isn’t all fireworks and you have to give it a while to get to know each other so this wasn’t a negative point in my mind until we snuggled up and drifted off to sleep.
Now unlike some ladies I don’t enjoy having someone’s body wrapped around me all night, an arm over me to begin with is acceptable, suffocating me for a whole eight hours is not what adds up to a great night’s sleep for me so I gave it a little time for him to fall into a deep enough slumber for me to carefully untangle myself and break free.
I had noticed he’d begun to grind his teeth and make some particularly odd noises as he obviously began dreaming which I found highly amusing but it also made me want to roll away even more. My foot was under his at this point, I was lying on my back and he was on his side with his arm over me. I gently removed his arm and went to slide my foot away from his so I could turn over.
To my horror this movement made him jump upright in bed and shout “MOVE YOUR FUCKING FOOT BACK, MOVE IT BACK NOW!”
“You what?!” I gasped. No reply.
I looked over in utter bemusement and noticed he was still asleep and carried on making some massively loud and strange mumbling noises, at this point I can safely say I thought I was laying next to a sleep talking axe murderer.
So I move my foot back and remain rigidly still for at least another hour as I frantically thought about what to do next. I couldn’t lay there until he wakes or risk him doing that or more! Then the arm comes back over, this time much nearer to my neck than I’m comfortable with, is it this point where he begins to squeeze the life out of me?
I managed to reach my phone and send an emergency “get me out of here” text message to my friend who was also spending the night in Leeds and I’d given a lift to. She rang with some fake crisis that woke him up and I made my excuses, got dressed quicker than I had ever before and ran out the door with only one shoe on.
I was back home before the sun had risen and thanked my lucky stars I’d not been a story line for the 9 o’clock news.
It goes without saying I didn’t ever see him again.
Friday, January 15, 2010
To sow or not to sow, that is the question...
You know who I’m sometimes jealous of? People who fall in love and marry their childhood sweethearts. They don’t have to go through years of hellish dating disasters, kiss hundreds of frogs and see their faith in the opposite sex slowly dwindle.
They do however have to sleep with the same person for the rest of their lives and what if it was the only person they’d ever slept with? The thought alone makes me screw my face up.
If I had stayed with the person I’d lost my virginity with I’d be having a hell of a lot of boring, over within the blink of an eye, sex. Granted this lad could go again as soon as he’d finished but is that still impressive when the actual act only lasts about 2.37 minutes? (yes I actually thought to time in once, thats how “into it” I was). He has come to be known as the “pump, pump, squirt” phase of my life.
If I’d stayed with the second person I’d slept with we’d be humping like rabbits, literally. POW POW POW. He was the type of guy that thought he was really adventurous and kinky but sadly he was mistaken and even at this stage in my experience I knew he was shit. Foreplay to him was “shall we shag now or after dinner?” How romantic.
The third guy I ever slept with had the biggest schlong I have ever, even to this day, seen. I mean this member was intimidating! I remember this thought passing through my mind; “That could well be capable of splitting me in two”. Although he was the first ever guy I’d been with that was tender, caring and thoughtful of my needs so I did get over my initial shock at the size issue but certain positions were definitely out of the question otherwise I may have choked or suffered some severe kidney bruising.
Then I moved onto the fourth and first serious relationship of my younger years. This was much more than just sex, I experienced what it was like to sleep with someone who you really did love and not just lust after and I can safely say this is the point where I really began enjoying making love to someone. I think when you reach the point in your sexual life where you begin to understand what it’s really all about and it’s not just a way to release your hormonal urges it turns into something much more fulfilling yet also something much more complicated.
As a woman this point is where you figure out what you’re into, where your limits are and how to truly please your man. Before this point you tend to feel like your winging it and keeping the last issue of your favourite women’s magazine with a “how to” guide page left open to check at points throughout the act.
After the first time you start to feel like your more in control the world becomes a different place, for me it did anyway. I was not going to settle for any pump, pump, squirts and knew for a fact that there was some brilliant, head rushing love making to be had in my future.
Yes there’s been more disasters along the way but there’s been plenty of screamingly amazing chapters too. Unfortunately not all men’s sexual prowess matures alongside their age, I’ve slept with men that are well into their 30s who have been shockingly clueless but thankfully there are those that have clearly been taking notes and revising as they go.
My point is this; although many of us find the grind of searching out our match to be tedious at times, look back and be grateful for what you have learnt from all these adventures and keep in mind that when that special someone does find you you’re going to be able to realise that the chemistry blows all of their competitors clean out of the water.
Don’t settle on your first, second or even third because you’re concerned that might be as good as it going to get. Take it from me, the journey is all part of the fun and you’ll get some cracking laughs out of it! That “pump, pump, squirt” guy has given me 11 years of hilarious flash backs!
They do however have to sleep with the same person for the rest of their lives and what if it was the only person they’d ever slept with? The thought alone makes me screw my face up.
If I had stayed with the person I’d lost my virginity with I’d be having a hell of a lot of boring, over within the blink of an eye, sex. Granted this lad could go again as soon as he’d finished but is that still impressive when the actual act only lasts about 2.37 minutes? (yes I actually thought to time in once, thats how “into it” I was). He has come to be known as the “pump, pump, squirt” phase of my life.
If I’d stayed with the second person I’d slept with we’d be humping like rabbits, literally. POW POW POW. He was the type of guy that thought he was really adventurous and kinky but sadly he was mistaken and even at this stage in my experience I knew he was shit. Foreplay to him was “shall we shag now or after dinner?” How romantic.
The third guy I ever slept with had the biggest schlong I have ever, even to this day, seen. I mean this member was intimidating! I remember this thought passing through my mind; “That could well be capable of splitting me in two”. Although he was the first ever guy I’d been with that was tender, caring and thoughtful of my needs so I did get over my initial shock at the size issue but certain positions were definitely out of the question otherwise I may have choked or suffered some severe kidney bruising.
Then I moved onto the fourth and first serious relationship of my younger years. This was much more than just sex, I experienced what it was like to sleep with someone who you really did love and not just lust after and I can safely say this is the point where I really began enjoying making love to someone. I think when you reach the point in your sexual life where you begin to understand what it’s really all about and it’s not just a way to release your hormonal urges it turns into something much more fulfilling yet also something much more complicated.
As a woman this point is where you figure out what you’re into, where your limits are and how to truly please your man. Before this point you tend to feel like your winging it and keeping the last issue of your favourite women’s magazine with a “how to” guide page left open to check at points throughout the act.
After the first time you start to feel like your more in control the world becomes a different place, for me it did anyway. I was not going to settle for any pump, pump, squirts and knew for a fact that there was some brilliant, head rushing love making to be had in my future.
Yes there’s been more disasters along the way but there’s been plenty of screamingly amazing chapters too. Unfortunately not all men’s sexual prowess matures alongside their age, I’ve slept with men that are well into their 30s who have been shockingly clueless but thankfully there are those that have clearly been taking notes and revising as they go.
My point is this; although many of us find the grind of searching out our match to be tedious at times, look back and be grateful for what you have learnt from all these adventures and keep in mind that when that special someone does find you you’re going to be able to realise that the chemistry blows all of their competitors clean out of the water.
Don’t settle on your first, second or even third because you’re concerned that might be as good as it going to get. Take it from me, the journey is all part of the fun and you’ll get some cracking laughs out of it! That “pump, pump, squirt” guy has given me 11 years of hilarious flash backs!
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
So here’s a story for you...
In previous blogs I’ve alluded to my fantastically drama filled dating existence but for this entry I thought I’d be brave and give you a full, no holds barred, look at once of my recent, um, incidents.
What happens to me a lot is it’ll all be quiet on the western front for a little while and then all hell breaks loose and I don’t know my arse from my elbow, December pretty much padded out like that.
The tale includes my ex boyfriend, a guy I met randomly and another, lets call him a flirting diversion. I shall start with a little background on my ex so we can paint a clearer picture and we’ll call him Alan.
Alan and I were together for less than a year, the beginning of the relationship was pretty fantastic but 6 months in the cracks began to appear. He was 27, had never had a girlfriend before (he wasn’t a scutter by the way, actually fairly fit) and had some how gained a storage container’s worth of emotional baggage / self confidence issues. Suffice to say thanks to my ability to not admit defeat easily we soldiered on for a little while longer until it all fell apart.
At the time I was fairly hurt but on the scale of heartbroken I wasn’t reaching wrist slitting heights and within time I laid it to rest as much as I could with unanswered questions still looming. It seemed he had other ideas on this though and for the next 4 years popped up every now and then sending me messages like “I think I...” (yes that was it) and then recently peaking at “I’ve always regretted what I did, I wish you were here”
We had attempted the friend thing after 2 years of us splitting up but due to this look he has a habit of giving me and the questionable circumstances of the ending I always had an air of caution when I spent time with him, and rightly so it turns out.
So now to dip into the information on the guy I met randomly. First date probably featured on some of the all time worst first dates to start off with. He had a severe tendency to take the piss, now I can be about as sarcastic as they come but this fella totally blew me out of the water and for a good few hours he just laid into me in an attempt to be funny. In my mind, this was a disaster, but I stuck with it and the end of the date spun things around and changed my perspective on him.
Half way through said date and I get a text from flirt diversion asking me if I was in town and if I wanted to “hook up” later, I tried to hide the shock on my face in front of random guy and speedily put my phone back in my bag and decide FD can wait for now.
5.30am on the morning after this date I get a message from Alan “Yo DC, how you doing?” not the best timing in the world I think you can agree. He’s obviously pissed, obviously reminiscing and once again gets under my skin when my new date is sleeping sounding in my bed. Winner. I ignore the message, for the time being.
Time goes on, I see the random guy a few more times. He states his thoughts on dating, appears to very strongly believe that dating more than one person at a time is morally wrong (this scuppers me as I’m actually dating someone else at the same time too aka flirt divert) which puts me in a quandary as to whether random guy is worth me ditching divert guy and Alan to concentrate on just him.
I spend the next few weeks deciding whether or not I can put up with his piss taking, settle for one guy and be able to cut loose on the others... this was debated back and forth for quite some time.
Technology then conspires against me, I’ve text random guy and not had a reply... for 2 whole weeks. I see this as a blessing in disguise, one less decision to make and continue on with the rest of my dramas.
Then something came out of complete left field. Alan decides (when pissed of course) to insinuate he might want me back. Then I hear he’s been talking about this with his friends and these friends then decide to get involved and attempt to help us get back together.
At this point I really had nothing to lose and felt like I was being swept along with this anyway so decide to meet up with Alan and discuss this development.
He comes round, we have tea and watch a film and as the night goes on it dawns on me that, if I let him, he isn’t going to address the issue so I make the decision to be the one to grow some balls and go for the jugular.
For the next 2 hours we go over everything, one of the most intense conversations of my life and for a short while I even dare to think he’s changed and it might be different this time round. The chemistry was still there and it really felt like we could pick up where we left off. How wrong you can be!
One week later and it’s back to the old story of him going radio silent, freaking out and generally being an emotional retard and sending my head firmly up my jaxxy. I give him the benefit of the doubt for a short while but after he fails to turn up at my house after I’d told him I needed to get something off my chest a moment of clarity descended on me and I called it a day.
Next bit... Random guy’s silence is broken by me receiving 4 texts, one after another, at 4.30am one morning. These texts are basically what he has sent me over the last 2 weeks and for whatever reason they’d only just made it to my phone. I reply, firstly being cautious and explaining I didn’t think we were a good fit but after he’d told me I was the best sex he’d ever had my strong stance weakened immensely which lead to me being in his bed the next night... slut I know but my ego had been bruised so give me a break!
Flirt divert had also been in contact and that scenario was still on going but never really getting anywhere, especially after I’d found out he’d offered to show some ‘personal’ messages from me to one of his mates.. “Oh no you diddddnn’tt” but he did.
Moving on.... I attempt to eat humble pie with random guy, thinking I’d been too hasty the first time round, maybe he wasn’t all the annoying things I thought he was as I do have a habit of picking holes in someone until they resemble a crater and I wanted to stick to my new year’s resolution of not being so god damn picky. I get little response but to be fair I was really forcing myself into it so I didn’t become too suspicious too soon, until I hear the tail end of some gossip. Random guy has got back with his ex girlfriend.
I swear to God, I honestly laughed out loud. First at the shear ludicrousness of this situation, then at his massive hypocrisy (he’d said, and I quote “If I’ve learnt anything in my years getting back with an ex never works, people don’t change” after I’d told him about Alan) and finally at the fact that my love life continues to be one massive balls up after another. You have to laugh though don’t you!!
So, to summarise, in just over a month I have partially dated 3 men, one who turn out to be a wanker, one who remained to be a wanker and one who didn’t reach being a wanker. Not bad for a months work I don’t think!
What happens to me a lot is it’ll all be quiet on the western front for a little while and then all hell breaks loose and I don’t know my arse from my elbow, December pretty much padded out like that.
The tale includes my ex boyfriend, a guy I met randomly and another, lets call him a flirting diversion. I shall start with a little background on my ex so we can paint a clearer picture and we’ll call him Alan.
Alan and I were together for less than a year, the beginning of the relationship was pretty fantastic but 6 months in the cracks began to appear. He was 27, had never had a girlfriend before (he wasn’t a scutter by the way, actually fairly fit) and had some how gained a storage container’s worth of emotional baggage / self confidence issues. Suffice to say thanks to my ability to not admit defeat easily we soldiered on for a little while longer until it all fell apart.
At the time I was fairly hurt but on the scale of heartbroken I wasn’t reaching wrist slitting heights and within time I laid it to rest as much as I could with unanswered questions still looming. It seemed he had other ideas on this though and for the next 4 years popped up every now and then sending me messages like “I think I...” (yes that was it) and then recently peaking at “I’ve always regretted what I did, I wish you were here”
We had attempted the friend thing after 2 years of us splitting up but due to this look he has a habit of giving me and the questionable circumstances of the ending I always had an air of caution when I spent time with him, and rightly so it turns out.
So now to dip into the information on the guy I met randomly. First date probably featured on some of the all time worst first dates to start off with. He had a severe tendency to take the piss, now I can be about as sarcastic as they come but this fella totally blew me out of the water and for a good few hours he just laid into me in an attempt to be funny. In my mind, this was a disaster, but I stuck with it and the end of the date spun things around and changed my perspective on him.
Half way through said date and I get a text from flirt diversion asking me if I was in town and if I wanted to “hook up” later, I tried to hide the shock on my face in front of random guy and speedily put my phone back in my bag and decide FD can wait for now.
5.30am on the morning after this date I get a message from Alan “Yo DC, how you doing?” not the best timing in the world I think you can agree. He’s obviously pissed, obviously reminiscing and once again gets under my skin when my new date is sleeping sounding in my bed. Winner. I ignore the message, for the time being.
Time goes on, I see the random guy a few more times. He states his thoughts on dating, appears to very strongly believe that dating more than one person at a time is morally wrong (this scuppers me as I’m actually dating someone else at the same time too aka flirt divert) which puts me in a quandary as to whether random guy is worth me ditching divert guy and Alan to concentrate on just him.
I spend the next few weeks deciding whether or not I can put up with his piss taking, settle for one guy and be able to cut loose on the others... this was debated back and forth for quite some time.
Technology then conspires against me, I’ve text random guy and not had a reply... for 2 whole weeks. I see this as a blessing in disguise, one less decision to make and continue on with the rest of my dramas.
Then something came out of complete left field. Alan decides (when pissed of course) to insinuate he might want me back. Then I hear he’s been talking about this with his friends and these friends then decide to get involved and attempt to help us get back together.
At this point I really had nothing to lose and felt like I was being swept along with this anyway so decide to meet up with Alan and discuss this development.
He comes round, we have tea and watch a film and as the night goes on it dawns on me that, if I let him, he isn’t going to address the issue so I make the decision to be the one to grow some balls and go for the jugular.
For the next 2 hours we go over everything, one of the most intense conversations of my life and for a short while I even dare to think he’s changed and it might be different this time round. The chemistry was still there and it really felt like we could pick up where we left off. How wrong you can be!
One week later and it’s back to the old story of him going radio silent, freaking out and generally being an emotional retard and sending my head firmly up my jaxxy. I give him the benefit of the doubt for a short while but after he fails to turn up at my house after I’d told him I needed to get something off my chest a moment of clarity descended on me and I called it a day.
Next bit... Random guy’s silence is broken by me receiving 4 texts, one after another, at 4.30am one morning. These texts are basically what he has sent me over the last 2 weeks and for whatever reason they’d only just made it to my phone. I reply, firstly being cautious and explaining I didn’t think we were a good fit but after he’d told me I was the best sex he’d ever had my strong stance weakened immensely which lead to me being in his bed the next night... slut I know but my ego had been bruised so give me a break!
Flirt divert had also been in contact and that scenario was still on going but never really getting anywhere, especially after I’d found out he’d offered to show some ‘personal’ messages from me to one of his mates.. “Oh no you diddddnn’tt” but he did.
Moving on.... I attempt to eat humble pie with random guy, thinking I’d been too hasty the first time round, maybe he wasn’t all the annoying things I thought he was as I do have a habit of picking holes in someone until they resemble a crater and I wanted to stick to my new year’s resolution of not being so god damn picky. I get little response but to be fair I was really forcing myself into it so I didn’t become too suspicious too soon, until I hear the tail end of some gossip. Random guy has got back with his ex girlfriend.
I swear to God, I honestly laughed out loud. First at the shear ludicrousness of this situation, then at his massive hypocrisy (he’d said, and I quote “If I’ve learnt anything in my years getting back with an ex never works, people don’t change” after I’d told him about Alan) and finally at the fact that my love life continues to be one massive balls up after another. You have to laugh though don’t you!!
So, to summarise, in just over a month I have partially dated 3 men, one who turn out to be a wanker, one who remained to be a wanker and one who didn’t reach being a wanker. Not bad for a months work I don’t think!
Sunday, January 3, 2010
Are you an emotional retard?
I am. I wasn’t but I’ve grown into being one. With each set back I’ve suffered through my dating existence and every notch it has etched out of me has turned me into an emotional oasis.
I laugh and joke about it with my friends and find some of my actions ridiculous but I have built this barrier that prevents me from saying certain words, paying someone compliments and admitting I might actually “like” (let’s not go too over the top and try to utter that other L word) a guy.
Getting someone interested in me (without sounding egotistical) isn’t a thing I find all that difficult. I’ve got a decent arse, I’ve managed to restrain myself from pigging out so much that I gain a muffin top and my face doesn’t look half bad either. I have a diploma in flirting and creating saucy innuendos but back me into a corner and ask me to vocalise my feelings for someone is another matter entirely.
Example; a guy tells me he loves spending time with me, I reply that I LIKE spending time with him too. I’m not even saying I love him but I can’t managed to instantly echo the sentiment. Ridiculous isn’t it? I want to say it but I appear to have a clamp in my mouth that prevents me. I wonder if I have to pay a fine to get rid of it?
I fear if I compliment a guy, he’ll assume I’m really into him and then lose interest, I would have put myself out there only to have the door slammed in my face and hear the words “actually, I’m not that bothered” = I am an emotional retard.
I am jealous of women that can be open about how they feel, don’t get me wrong I don’t want to be a needy, squeaky, I love you and I’ve only known you a week girl, but I am jealous of people that are brave enough to lay it all out in the hope they’ll get something in return.
Maybe these people haven’t ever really failed, really experienced the anguish of something blowing up in their face, or maybe they are just so much stronger and believe the saying “it’s better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all”
The older I get the more cautious I get, to the point I am ruining possible relationships before they even begin and I annoy myself for it. Can I really put the blame on the men that have wronged me or is this totally my issue?
Another part of my problem is that I enjoy being single, an alien statement for those who don’t feel whole without someone on their arm, but I’ve learnt to stand on my own two feet, have fun and not have to worry about all those sticky ‘feeling’ issues. I am aware that it’s not healthy to remain (and I hate this term) ‘alone’ for the rest of my days but how do you break the cycle of cut and run when it looks like it could be a goer?
I very much know I need to work on it and also know I am definitely not a one man band when it comes to this issue. Lots of people my age are suffering from the same affliction; the inability to jump in with both feet and not concern myself with the consequences.
My theory is when I find someone that’s prepared to work me through this, warts ‘n’ all, I will then begin to change my mind set, I honestly don’t think it’s something we can do by ourselves. It’s discovering that person who’s willing to take on an emotional retard though, because I have to say I’ve been confronted with the prospect of taking on someone that had issues before and I’ve given it a whirl but now I prefer to just leg it in the other direction.
So I guess what I, and so many other people need, is someone that has their shit together, that isn’t afraid of saying it like it is, who’s prepared to bring me out of myself but is there anyone that isn’t twisted? I ruddy hope so. And I do honestly believe there is, because I’ve pushed many of them away before as I’ve not been ready to accept that.
Can people that class themselves as emotional retards recover and go on to lead a happy, contented and drama free life? In short, yes, but the first step is admitting you have the problem, second step is to find someone that can understand the problem and third step is to work on it, together.
You can remove the clamp, turn off the mute button and put yourself out there.
Don’t just be jealous of people that have the enviable ability to wear their heart on their sleeves, try to take a leaf out of their book and face your fears.
I am determined that in 2010 I am going to change, give up my friend that has kept me protected and cut loose.
Nothing ventured, nothing gained. What’s the worse that could happen? Keeping Kleennex in business? We all need to do our part to keep the economy afloat after all...
I laugh and joke about it with my friends and find some of my actions ridiculous but I have built this barrier that prevents me from saying certain words, paying someone compliments and admitting I might actually “like” (let’s not go too over the top and try to utter that other L word) a guy.
Getting someone interested in me (without sounding egotistical) isn’t a thing I find all that difficult. I’ve got a decent arse, I’ve managed to restrain myself from pigging out so much that I gain a muffin top and my face doesn’t look half bad either. I have a diploma in flirting and creating saucy innuendos but back me into a corner and ask me to vocalise my feelings for someone is another matter entirely.
Example; a guy tells me he loves spending time with me, I reply that I LIKE spending time with him too. I’m not even saying I love him but I can’t managed to instantly echo the sentiment. Ridiculous isn’t it? I want to say it but I appear to have a clamp in my mouth that prevents me. I wonder if I have to pay a fine to get rid of it?
I fear if I compliment a guy, he’ll assume I’m really into him and then lose interest, I would have put myself out there only to have the door slammed in my face and hear the words “actually, I’m not that bothered” = I am an emotional retard.
I am jealous of women that can be open about how they feel, don’t get me wrong I don’t want to be a needy, squeaky, I love you and I’ve only known you a week girl, but I am jealous of people that are brave enough to lay it all out in the hope they’ll get something in return.
Maybe these people haven’t ever really failed, really experienced the anguish of something blowing up in their face, or maybe they are just so much stronger and believe the saying “it’s better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all”
The older I get the more cautious I get, to the point I am ruining possible relationships before they even begin and I annoy myself for it. Can I really put the blame on the men that have wronged me or is this totally my issue?
Another part of my problem is that I enjoy being single, an alien statement for those who don’t feel whole without someone on their arm, but I’ve learnt to stand on my own two feet, have fun and not have to worry about all those sticky ‘feeling’ issues. I am aware that it’s not healthy to remain (and I hate this term) ‘alone’ for the rest of my days but how do you break the cycle of cut and run when it looks like it could be a goer?
I very much know I need to work on it and also know I am definitely not a one man band when it comes to this issue. Lots of people my age are suffering from the same affliction; the inability to jump in with both feet and not concern myself with the consequences.
My theory is when I find someone that’s prepared to work me through this, warts ‘n’ all, I will then begin to change my mind set, I honestly don’t think it’s something we can do by ourselves. It’s discovering that person who’s willing to take on an emotional retard though, because I have to say I’ve been confronted with the prospect of taking on someone that had issues before and I’ve given it a whirl but now I prefer to just leg it in the other direction.
So I guess what I, and so many other people need, is someone that has their shit together, that isn’t afraid of saying it like it is, who’s prepared to bring me out of myself but is there anyone that isn’t twisted? I ruddy hope so. And I do honestly believe there is, because I’ve pushed many of them away before as I’ve not been ready to accept that.
Can people that class themselves as emotional retards recover and go on to lead a happy, contented and drama free life? In short, yes, but the first step is admitting you have the problem, second step is to find someone that can understand the problem and third step is to work on it, together.
You can remove the clamp, turn off the mute button and put yourself out there.
Don’t just be jealous of people that have the enviable ability to wear their heart on their sleeves, try to take a leaf out of their book and face your fears.
I am determined that in 2010 I am going to change, give up my friend that has kept me protected and cut loose.
Nothing ventured, nothing gained. What’s the worse that could happen? Keeping Kleennex in business? We all need to do our part to keep the economy afloat after all...
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