Tuesday, 20 October 2009
And so
E is now engaged to be married. I have been preparing myself over the last week or two for this, but was actually informed of this tonight, at the bar, at our local. I've had a few drinks and am therefore a bit sentimental, but I do want him to be happy. And he says he is.
Sunday, 4 October 2009
Pre-date
I am meeting a man on Wednesday that I know a little bit from a group music lesson I take. I started to think that I might like to get to know him, so after much angsting about whether I would cause problems and disrupt the harmony of the group, I decided to suggest to him (via a message on facebook - I was still feeling a bit too shy to do it in person) that we meet for a drink sometime in between in the lessons.
I rarely have a problem with asking people out, but for some reason I found myself feeling rather terrified. Would he reject me and then would the harmony in our music class be disrupted? Would be meet up and then I decide that I didn't like him, perhaps causing more disruption? I eventually threw caution to the wind and sent him a message on facebook.
He responded quickly and positively, and over the last week we have been sending regular messages back and forth about various things in our lives - jobs mostly, sport, music, and so on. We have planned to meet this Wednesday after work at a location equidistant between our respective workplaces. A casual, post-work drink, no big thing.
Except that I think I might like him. He is easy to talk to, which is a big plus for me, as I find most people irritating and/or boring. He seems stable and put together, but also rather adventurous. Looks-wise, he is not really my type (in fact I have been told this by two separate people), but hey, I am ready for something different. Or at least to give it a shot.
I was talking to my sister tonight and she asked if there were any men in my life. "Er, I think I might have a date this week, but I'm not really sure if you would call it that". She laughed at me and then on my suggested, she conceded that I could call it a pre-date.
Watch this space.
I rarely have a problem with asking people out, but for some reason I found myself feeling rather terrified. Would he reject me and then would the harmony in our music class be disrupted? Would be meet up and then I decide that I didn't like him, perhaps causing more disruption? I eventually threw caution to the wind and sent him a message on facebook.
He responded quickly and positively, and over the last week we have been sending regular messages back and forth about various things in our lives - jobs mostly, sport, music, and so on. We have planned to meet this Wednesday after work at a location equidistant between our respective workplaces. A casual, post-work drink, no big thing.
Except that I think I might like him. He is easy to talk to, which is a big plus for me, as I find most people irritating and/or boring. He seems stable and put together, but also rather adventurous. Looks-wise, he is not really my type (in fact I have been told this by two separate people), but hey, I am ready for something different. Or at least to give it a shot.
I was talking to my sister tonight and she asked if there were any men in my life. "Er, I think I might have a date this week, but I'm not really sure if you would call it that". She laughed at me and then on my suggested, she conceded that I could call it a pre-date.
Watch this space.
Saturday, 26 September 2009
meaning
I think a difficult thing about life is putting all your life meaning into relationships. The problem with this, is that relationships come and go and when they go, we are left without that meaning. So now I am trying to find some meaning for myself that is only dependent on me, not on others.
This is not going to be easy, but it seems important.
This is not going to be easy, but it seems important.
Tuesday, 22 September 2009
Confusion, as usual
I sometimes feel like I am in the mood to bang my head against the table. This might be because of my ever-so-complicated-non-love-life. Or perhaps the tangled web. Since E's birthday we have slept together a few times. It is now a week until he goes to visit his actual (as opposed to secret, ie me) lady friend. He, his friend C, and I had drinks this evening. I foolishly sat across from them both thinking - the reason I want to sleep with C is because it seems like a challenge, slightly wrong (being E's friend) and because he might be nice to wake up to in the morning. I also then looked 8 inches to my left to see E and think - the reason I want to sleep with E is because it is a bit (but less so) of a challenge (bearing in mind time/place/morals/etc), slightly wrong (as he is involved with someone), and because I know he is nice to wake up to in the morning.
I am left feeling a bit pathetic and silly and home on my own. I didn't try to take either of them back - it didn't seem quite right. I could have invited them both back for further drinking, but then I would have just been confused, so there was little point.
And so it goes!
I am left feeling a bit pathetic and silly and home on my own. I didn't try to take either of them back - it didn't seem quite right. I could have invited them both back for further drinking, but then I would have just been confused, so there was little point.
And so it goes!
Saturday, 8 August 2009
Birthday shag and a new friend
Tuesday was E's birthday. He didn't want to make a fuss at turning 33, so invited a few friends for a low-key drink at our local. E had invited a random selection of people - some I knew, some I didn't, and one I had met once before. His name was CS.
E made a typical, excitable fuss about how he thought we would get along. The night passed with a lot of drink and merriment, cigarettes and chats. E was given a shot of absinthe by the landlord, who was charmingly drunk and handing out hugs like candy. The absinthe put E over the edge of drunkenness.
The pub closed and we were kicked out. We stood outside smoking and finishing drinks whilst various individuals from the evening filtered away to their respective homes. Th
at left me, E, and CS standing outside the pub. I asked what their plans were - we could all go to our respective homes, or they could come back to mine in order to keep drinking. E was clearly very drunk and gave an alternate proposal - he said that he wanted to inappropriately touch my breasts. Whilst not out of character, this suggestion did catch me off guard as he had previously asked me to be discrete about our sexual relationship. I laughed nervously and tried to brush it off. CS made jokes about what would constitute "inappropriate".
I eventually got E off the subject of my breasts and convinced the two of them that we should go back to mine for another drink. We went back with Polish lager bought from the all-night shop. E promptly fell asleep on the couch with a glass of beer in hand. CS and I talked and smoked and drank for some time. Time passed, E woke up and concluded that he needed to go to sleep, and CS left in order to make his way home. It was 4am.
E and I slept, then woke up and fucked until we were sweaty, exhausted, and satisfied. We got ready for work - had a shower (and I learned that he wears his glasses in the shower), dressed and set off. Bearing in mind E's attachment to the Australian bird, he asked me to tell CS that he slept on the couch if it came up. I reminded him that he had been rather indiscreet the night before, but agreed.
A few days have passed, and interestingly, I keep thinking about CS and how I would like to see him again.
E made a typical, excitable fuss about how he thought we would get along. The night passed with a lot of drink and merriment, cigarettes and chats. E was given a shot of absinthe by the landlord, who was charmingly drunk and handing out hugs like candy. The absinthe put E over the edge of drunkenness.
The pub closed and we were kicked out. We stood outside smoking and finishing drinks whilst various individuals from the evening filtered away to their respective homes. Th
at left me, E, and CS standing outside the pub. I asked what their plans were - we could all go to our respective homes, or they could come back to mine in order to keep drinking. E was clearly very drunk and gave an alternate proposal - he said that he wanted to inappropriately touch my breasts. Whilst not out of character, this suggestion did catch me off guard as he had previously asked me to be discrete about our sexual relationship. I laughed nervously and tried to brush it off. CS made jokes about what would constitute "inappropriate".
I eventually got E off the subject of my breasts and convinced the two of them that we should go back to mine for another drink. We went back with Polish lager bought from the all-night shop. E promptly fell asleep on the couch with a glass of beer in hand. CS and I talked and smoked and drank for some time. Time passed, E woke up and concluded that he needed to go to sleep, and CS left in order to make his way home. It was 4am.
E and I slept, then woke up and fucked until we were sweaty, exhausted, and satisfied. We got ready for work - had a shower (and I learned that he wears his glasses in the shower), dressed and set off. Bearing in mind E's attachment to the Australian bird, he asked me to tell CS that he slept on the couch if it came up. I reminded him that he had been rather indiscreet the night before, but agreed.
A few days have passed, and interestingly, I keep thinking about CS and how I would like to see him again.
Saturday, 1 August 2009
Not for me
It was T's birthday last night so a group of us went out in Camden. When there, I texted N to invite him along and along he came. After we got kicked out of the pub, we went on to a club. Dance Dance Revolution. It was all good fun.
Eventually, I got hot and went outside for a smoke. N had disappeared, but I received a text from him. He seemed to have left and gone home. As his home was a few minute walk from the club, I went over. We had a smoke and a beer and then he kissed me. We went upstairs and had sloppy drunken sex then feel asleep.
Throughout the evening and morning he was pesting me about why I describe myself as "emotionally unavailable". I think he wants to get involved. He was a bit overly cuddly and demanding.
Morning and sobriety came and shagged again, but as a result of the sobriety (I think) he lasted about 90 seconds. What a let down. I left.
Conclusion: N is okay, not amazingly interesting or engaging, and perhaps a bit too needy. And not that interesting sexually. Definitely not the guy for me.
Eventually, I got hot and went outside for a smoke. N had disappeared, but I received a text from him. He seemed to have left and gone home. As his home was a few minute walk from the club, I went over. We had a smoke and a beer and then he kissed me. We went upstairs and had sloppy drunken sex then feel asleep.
Throughout the evening and morning he was pesting me about why I describe myself as "emotionally unavailable". I think he wants to get involved. He was a bit overly cuddly and demanding.
Morning and sobriety came and shagged again, but as a result of the sobriety (I think) he lasted about 90 seconds. What a let down. I left.
Conclusion: N is okay, not amazingly interesting or engaging, and perhaps a bit too needy. And not that interesting sexually. Definitely not the guy for me.
Thursday, 30 July 2009
summer holiday
On 12 July I was due to meet two people I had met once from gumtree at Luton Airport to catch a flight to Nimes in order to spend two weeks at a naturist resort in the South of France. So what did I do? On the night before, I went out in Camden Town. Met a man (let's call him "N (small mouth") from an internet dating site and then various friends joined us in the pub.
I proceeded to get quite drunk, got in a big argument with T, then carried on drinking. N (small mouth) lives in Camden, so after the pub chucked us out, a group of us went back to his to carry on drinking. On one hand, I knew I was pissed and had to get up early for a flight - I therefore switched to water. On the other hand, it was already gone 2am and I had been drinking for hours - not even close to sobering up.
Aforementioned friends went out to get more booze. In the meantime, N (small mouth) and I started getting-it-on on the floor of his lounge. Interupted by the buzzer (friends were back with booze), we then retired to his bedroom and fucked in a clumsy-due-to-too-much-booze sort of way. Twice.
He fell asleep (though after begging me to stay over and me refusing). I decided to SORT MY SHIT OUT. It was 6am. I was still drunk. My flight was in five hours. I caught a night bus home. It was 7am. I considered leaving for the airport right away. I decided that I could do with 45 minutes kip before heading to the airport.
Next thing I knew, I awoke to a text from friend from previous night saying she hoped I got off ok. It was 10:30. FUCK. My flight was at 11:15 from Luton and I was still in London. I rang friend in a panic. Should I get a cab and try to rush to Luton? No, there wasn't enought time. I had to cut my losses, ring the people I didn't really know in order to tell them that I was a flake and was going to miss the flight, and then book another flight for the following day. There is only one flight a day from London to Nimes and it is by RyanAir.
FuckFuckFuck. I hyperventiliated. I cried. I rang my brother. I rang my ex-husband. I rang all my friends who would listen. I rang my mother. I booked a flight (for an extra 120 squid) for the following day and then I started to sober up and get a hangover. I was depressed. I had argued with a close friend. I had missed my flight for a holiday I was looking forward to for months. I wondered whether I had a drinking problem, or some other deep seated personality disorder that caused me to act in self-destructive ways.
N(small mouth) texted to say he had fun last night and that he hoped I had a good time in France. I told him I missed my flight. He offered to buy me lunch out of guilt. I accepted and whinged the entire time.
Fast forward to two days later - I was in a naturist resort in sunny France, lounging naked in the sun, surrounding by other naked people. It was grand. Two whole weeks of being naked in France, sunny weather, swimming in the river, hiking, cheese, and reading. Life was good again.
I proceeded to get quite drunk, got in a big argument with T, then carried on drinking. N (small mouth) lives in Camden, so after the pub chucked us out, a group of us went back to his to carry on drinking. On one hand, I knew I was pissed and had to get up early for a flight - I therefore switched to water. On the other hand, it was already gone 2am and I had been drinking for hours - not even close to sobering up.
Aforementioned friends went out to get more booze. In the meantime, N (small mouth) and I started getting-it-on on the floor of his lounge. Interupted by the buzzer (friends were back with booze), we then retired to his bedroom and fucked in a clumsy-due-to-too-much-booze sort of way. Twice.
He fell asleep (though after begging me to stay over and me refusing). I decided to SORT MY SHIT OUT. It was 6am. I was still drunk. My flight was in five hours. I caught a night bus home. It was 7am. I considered leaving for the airport right away. I decided that I could do with 45 minutes kip before heading to the airport.
Next thing I knew, I awoke to a text from friend from previous night saying she hoped I got off ok. It was 10:30. FUCK. My flight was at 11:15 from Luton and I was still in London. I rang friend in a panic. Should I get a cab and try to rush to Luton? No, there wasn't enought time. I had to cut my losses, ring the people I didn't really know in order to tell them that I was a flake and was going to miss the flight, and then book another flight for the following day. There is only one flight a day from London to Nimes and it is by RyanAir.
FuckFuckFuck. I hyperventiliated. I cried. I rang my brother. I rang my ex-husband. I rang all my friends who would listen. I rang my mother. I booked a flight (for an extra 120 squid) for the following day and then I started to sober up and get a hangover. I was depressed. I had argued with a close friend. I had missed my flight for a holiday I was looking forward to for months. I wondered whether I had a drinking problem, or some other deep seated personality disorder that caused me to act in self-destructive ways.
N(small mouth) texted to say he had fun last night and that he hoped I had a good time in France. I told him I missed my flight. He offered to buy me lunch out of guilt. I accepted and whinged the entire time.
Fast forward to two days later - I was in a naturist resort in sunny France, lounging naked in the sun, surrounding by other naked people. It was grand. Two whole weeks of being naked in France, sunny weather, swimming in the river, hiking, cheese, and reading. Life was good again.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)