Happy New Year’s Eve!!!

My New Year’s resolutions for December 31st, 2011 were to give up smoking. It was also to avoid falling in love with the following people – drug addicts, compulsive liars, cheaters, wife beaters, emotional fuck ups, attention seekers and general fucktards. The reason I know this is because I posted a Facebook status that said something along the same lines. I also said that I wouldn’t buy so many pairs of shoes.

As I look back and reflect over the last year, I realize how much of a rollercoaster I have been through. I lost what I thought was the love of my life to a drug problem. He may not have died, but we sure did. I moved from one side of the world to the other. I slept with 7 different boys. 4 of those were boys I’d never slept with before. I have been in two “real” relationships and one “sort of” relationship. I have fallen in love (again) once. I think. I have gotten a new job. I have lost 60 pounds in weight. I’ve put a few of those back on again. I’ll start the diet again in the New Year.

I wanted 2012 to be a good year. I thought it was the new start that the Big Love and I so desperately needed. Turns out it wasn’t.

I failed at a lot of things in 2012. I DID give up smoking again like I wanted, but I started up again so I don’t think it really counts. As far as I’m aware, I haven’t fallen in love with a drug addict, cheater, wife beater, emotional fuck up, attention seeker or general fucktard. The compulsive liar bit is debatable. Let’s be honest; One Ball has been a bit of a twat.

I’ve gained a few people in my life – those that I work with and some new friends. I have also lost a few – The Lapdog is a definite loss. My Mr. Grey seems to have disappeared off the scene again. To be fair, I wasn’t exactly as responsive as I probably should have been, especially when One Ball came along. I lost the Big Love of course. I also lost half of the people that I once considered to be friends on the other side of the world. I knew that would happen though – you promise to keep in touch but even with modern technology, you still don’t as much as you should.

According to my Facebook page, I added 75 new friends in 2012. I wonder how many of those people I would actually consider to be friends. Or how many I still am friends with today.

Facebook also reminds me, in my review of 2012 that it offers, that I was far too drunk and went to too many bad clubs when I first came home. I spent some time on the beach during the poorest summer ever. I dyed my hair so many times that I’m surprised it hasn’t fallen out yet. I went to a couple of Anniversary parties, a few birthday parties and more than my fair share of festive drinks. I was in a relationship for a brief spell of time. I also wore some pretty colourful outfits…. Cheers Facebook! What you have basically reminded me is that this year I have mostly been single, drunk and in outfits that I’m sure were a great idea at the time. It makes me feel like I’ve done sweet bugger all with my year.

I wanted to think of 2012 as my new beginning, but in reality all I did was rewind. I have ended up right back where I started 7 years ago, before all of my adventures began. And what a few years it has been. I got married, moved and lived in three different countries, on three different continents. I travelled. I have found love and lost love, separated from the hubby, started 6 new jobs, “lived” in 7 new places, slept with too many people, broke too many hearts and lost too many friends. I’ve made great memories though, and although I’d love to see the back of this crappy fucking year, I can’t snub the fun and laughter I have had along the way. The nights out with the sister who is now legally allowed to drink with me. The movies I went to see high in the cinema with the Bestie I’ve never had a dalliance with. The crazy fuck fest weekend I had with My Mr. Grey. The awesome weekend I spent with One Ball. The bad sex with the drunk guy. The nights I spent partying with the Lapdog, high on MDMA. New memories, new people, new places….

So I start 2013 on a new chapter. This year WILL be my year. I’m not going to make New Year’s resolutions, as such, but I am going to make goals to meet before 2013 is out: 2013 2

I want to give up smoking. Again.

I want to progress within my job.

I want to see where things go with One Ball and hope not to get a broken heart at the end of it.

I want to find a new little home to call my own rather than living with family.

I want to go to a country that I have never been to before.

I want to go back to the other side of the world to see the people I left behind.

I want to get completely, truly, definitely over the Big Love.

I want to make mistakes and cry some tears, make new happy memories and travel around my home country that I feel has been somewhat overlooked. I want to get drunk, occasionally take some drugs and have some good nights out. I want to get to my goal weight of 145 pounds. When all is said and done, I just want to be happy.

So here is my goodbye to 2012 and my hello to 2013 – BRING IT ON!


Happy New Year guys! Thanks for spending 2012 with me – my tears, my laughter, my sex and my fears. I love you all. And I hope 2013 is your year too xoxoxoxo

Follow me on Facebook & Twitter for more updates!

2012 In Review… A Little Offering from WordPress!

The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2012 annual report for this blog.

Here’s an excerpt:

600 people reached the top of Mt. Everest in 2012. This blog got about 3,600 views in 2012. If every person who reached the top of Mt. Everest viewed this blog, it would have taken 6 years to get that many views.

Click here to see the complete report.

Follow me on Facebook & Twitter!

I’m expanding….

With a little help from Single Eve Says and her beautiful Twitter post confessing her love for my blog, things have gone a bit nuts. I’ve shot to twice as many page views as I would normally get on a daily basis, and when Xander re-tweeted my page views went a bit nuts. It’s amazing how much of a difference a little Twitter action can make! I’m certainly grateful for the promotion! Thanks guys!

Twitter Love

Anyway….. I decided to make things a little bit more complicated for myself. And fun at the same time! This blog is basically a journal of my life so I decided it needed a good old Facebook page. So, ladies & gentlebugs; I have created one – I’d love it if you could check it out and let me know what you think!

Not So Sex in the City on Facebook!

What’s going to appear on my Facebook page? Well, all of the things that I would never get away with saying on my private, personal page of course! All the little things related to this blog that I would never tell another soul – why not get it out there? I thought it might make it easier for you guys to keep up with my ever-changing life too – you know how crazy my love life seems to have been over the last year or so!

Anyway, I hope you will follow me on my journey. It’s a good job I have two phones – keeping up with my personal page was hard enough work. Not that I’m complaining of course – I never even dreamed of getting all the views and followers that I seem to get. As always, your love of my blog is VERY appreciated!

Anyway, that’s enough for now. I’m off to have a heavenly shower and think of all the things I want to do to One Ball when he comes in T-Minus 3 sleeps! Eeeeek! The excitement!

Love you guys!!!


T-Minus 4 Sleeps.

Things are getting a bit tense. I am going to be seeing One Ball in T-Minus 4 sleeps. Wanna know what a girl has to go through before she meets her guy in a long distance relationship? Come into my world guys and dolls….

I need to shave my legs. Do I do it tonight so there won’t be so much to get rid of the night before I see him? Or do I save it so I can avoid those annoying red bumps you get when you shave your legs twice in a couple of days. My bikini line definitely needs some work too. But crap! I’m going to need to shave in 2 days time anyway because then it is New Year and I’m wearing a dress. Twice it is.

I need to seriously tidy my shit up. My room is a bomb site of half finished stuff and dirty laundry. I was going to do it tonight. I decided to get high and update my blog that hasn’t had any exciting news for ages. Tomorrow I will definitely clean my shit up.

I have writing work to do otherwise I’m going to be broke when he’s here. By writing work I mean freelance writing; something I do in my spare time to subsidize my earnings which have never been enough for my high maintenance life.

I need to make sure I have all the *important* stuff together in one night neat place – I need to have tied the ropes underneath my bed and around the head-bit before he gets here. He’s mentioned this a few times and I’m wondering if he’ll remember and look for it. I’m doing it anyway. He promises to tie me up. I need to make sure that all of my sex toys & lubes etc. are in an easy to reach spot on his side of the bed. He’s going to want them this weekend for sure, and I don’t want to have to run around my room in all my nakedness looking for toys and watching his flailing erection. I need to have a clean towel to catch the drips. It’s disgusting but it happens. It has to look “in place” as well. You know ladies; hidden but visible at the same time. I need to make sure I place a scarf on the computer chair to the right of my bed. He’s going to want to blindfold me and my leather blindfold doesn’t cover my eyes in quite the same way.

I need to de-fuzz my top lip. Enough said.

I need to change and clean my sheets. Oh and make my way through the masses of dirty laundry I have scattered around. And get it dried. And put it away. And put my clean clothes away that I get out every time I change items thirty or forty times before I settle on the first outfit I picked out anyway.

I need to finish painting that bookshelf and put my shoes and bags on it. I was meant to have gotten this done the last time he was around my way…. That was months ago.

I need to clean the kitchen and the bathroom, and vacuum the stairs and hallway. I need to remember to put the garbage bags out.

This is the EASY stuff!!!!

We still have the “L” word problem. We haven’t said it but we have suggested it to each other in our own little ways. I found a word – Forelsket. It basically means in the first throes of falling in love in Danish. It seems very apt. I wanted to send it to him but didn’t quite have the balls.  He also sent me the following picture:


I asked him outright – “Did you just “L” word me?”

He replied (after five minutes) – “What time are you going out with the Bestie you’ve never had a dalliance with?

Right. Awesome. Cheers buddy. We are still playing this damn game are we?

Not that it matters because there are a few things pissing me off at the moment. He sent me a picture of himself wearing a shirt that he got for Christmas and he looked horrific. He sent me the picture above. He is counting the days until he comes to see me. He sent me two long emails – a story of him ravishing me. Basically, he’s going to tie me up and force-fuck random parts of my body. It was hot but… Worst spelling, grammar and punctuation I’ve ever seen in my life. I have turned into one of those people that find PROPER English sexy. One sentence alone was about five lines long. Pffft.

I told him I wanted to try those sex electric pad things that you can get. It’s interested me for a while so I mentioned it in one of our conversations that still hasn’t ended in Skype sex. He ordered one to be delivered to my house the morning he gets to see me. I get that he’s excited to try them out but he was up and ordering those bad boys the minute he got paid before I had even stirred in the morning. Wow. Right on in there eh?

I think it’s all getting a bit much but I haven’t the heart to say that to him. I still adore him, don’t get me wrong, but it’s getting too…. Eager? I’m hoping this feeling goes away when I do actually see him.

Remember the guy I spoke about a while ago that I work with? Check out – Dipping Your Pen in the Office Ink? Well… things are getting heated there too and I wasn’t even aware that it was happening. He’s been down with work and his general situation for a while now, and I’ve been trying to cheer him up at work. We were having a late night text marathon one night and I suggested something that had a musical artist in it. He sung me a song lyric – an obscure song that I don’t think he thought I would have known. I sung the next song lyric back. He said he wanted to see him live, I suggested a gig that was coming up soon. The next conversation followed this:

Him: Promise me something?

Me: What’s that?

Him: When we get hammered at the gig and end up having sex, you won’t feel sad that all the other guys you sleep with aren’t as good as I am.

Me: Oh, so it’s going to be that easy to get into my underwear?

Him: Well, the gig, me, you, the musical artist, plenty of beer and my personality – I’ll give it a shot.

The conversation went on for a little bit longer, mocking how work would feel if we had slept together, and discussing how he thinks I could be a bunny boiler. I protested my innocence, of course, but he came up with the one definition that I thought was very apt and couldn’t even argue with:

“You’re the worst kind of woman. When a woman like you wants something she always gets it, no matter what she has to do to fucking get him there!”

This is so true – I do ALWAYS get what I want, whether it’s being spoilt by family at Christmas (which I was) or getting my guy to do pretty much whatever I wanted. This is something I will return to another time I think – make sure you remind me!

So I’m now thinking that maybe there is something in our professional relationship that was more than just professional. I haven’t really thought about him in that manner since I turned him down for sex when he outright asked me at a fellow work colleague’s birthday party. I guess it’s becoming a recurring pattern – we ARE going to fuck and there’s not a lot that either of us can do about it. Bugger. I can see it coming.

So the Festive period is almost over and my recently quiet and peaceful life is coming to an end. That’s probably for the best; I was running out of things to talk about on my Blog. I almost welcome the excitement and mini-dramas that are going to come as a result of my confusing life right now – the guy at work, One Ball, thinking about sleeping with the Bestie (a story again for another day) and wondering how to hide a Facebook status from My Mr. Grey.

Apparently guys, I’m back!

Want to know what’s going on in my life? Follow me on Facebook!

On a scale of 1 to Adele, how tough was your breakup?

Do you think you could score your last breakup? Was it more painful Adele than get-over-him Taylor Swift?

Today I am in a very weird place. In fact I’ve been in a weird place for a few days now. I haven’t really had anything to write. Or maybe I did and just didn’t know where to start?

Two days before Christmas. This should be a time of cheer and I don’t see myself cheering. I’ve worked so many hours at work and run around after the family so much, as well as my freelance writing to afford Christmas as my pay hasn’t been right for the last few times, that I’ve forgotten about Christmas altogether. It’s 9:34pm on Christmas Eve-Eve and I still haven’t wrapped anything. In fact, I still haven’t bought everything I wanted to buy for people Still I work better under pressure so hopefully a last minute dash for it on Christmas Eve itself will prove fruitful.

I haven’t really thought about the Big Love much recently which lead me to think that I was starting to get over him. I also found this very interesting article on 26 Milestones to Pass after a breakup which I decided to test myself on.


According to the article, there are 26 milestones that you have to pass in order to be over someone. Clearly I’m not going to work my way through them all, firstly because some of them are unnecessary, and secondly because we will be here forever. And no-one has time for that right now.

*The first milestone is not instantly thinking about him when you wake up in the morning. Well, I’ve not done that in a while now.

*Number seven was when you deleted his number from your phone. Well I haven’t done that yet. I have recently discovered that he no longer has an iPhone now which makes me sad. I felt comfort in the fact that he was just an iMessage away and now he’s not. I have restored the phone so none of his messages are on there anymore. That’s got to be progress, right?

*When you de-friend him on Facebook and un-follow him on Twitter was milestone number 8. I deleted him from my Facebook before I even left the other side of the world, and he never had Twitter anyway.

*Number nine was when you stop asking mutual friends to keep you updated. Well I’ve never really done that either – I stalked his Facebook more than a few times because he has everything public (TWAT) and it was easy. I blocked him a few times, but also unblocked him. Funnily enough, almost every time I have unblocked him I have had a message from him within a few days.

*When you find a spare pair of his socks and don’t crumble is number 10. I threw most of his things away when I came back to this side of the world. He did have a whole bunch of stuff here that he left when we were this side together. There were a couple of things I kept though. I still have a pair of his shorts. They are comfy. I also have a t-shirt of his which, funnily enough, he had never even worn. I also have one of his t-shirts that made up his uniform in the war zone where we met. These aren’t things I crumble over however; they are just memories from our time together. Is that the same thing?

*Number 12 was flirting with a new man because you actually want to, not just to prove that you still can after all this time. Well there have been a few guys since Big Love. One Ball is the closest I’ve gotten to feeling something even closely resembling emotional attachment to someone so I’m going to check this milestone box.

*Number 20 was when you are getting undressed at night or getting ready for something and you realize that what you are putting on or taking off was something he bought you. There are still certain garments of clothing that bring a lump to my throat – that red dress for his work Christmas party, the Louboutin’s he bought me for my birthday and the hoodie that he bought me in the war zone. He never really bought me clothes so I don’t even know if this milestone applies to me.

*The first major holiday you manage to get through on your own. Well I guess in two days we will know the answer to this one. I know this Christmas can’t suck half as much as what the last one did.

*When you genuinely realize that you don’t want him anymore. I’m stuck with this milestone. I KNOW I don’t want to be with him anymore and I know it would never work if we were to get back together. It doesn’t stop me pining for him though. It doesn’t stop my heart from hurting.

*When you are genuinely happy about him and his girlfriend. Well remember in one of my last posts I said she looked fat in one of the Facebook pictures? Well, there’s another picture and she is definitely a bigger girl. Bigger than I ever got and I did put on some serious weight towards the end, before I lost it all in one go. He told me he couldn’t be with a bigger girl ever again. He also said that my weight was one of the biggest things he didn’t like about me. How the fucking hell does it make sense that he is with a big girl now? Everything he said he didn’t like about me, he’s basically found in her. She looks similar to me – she’s curvy but bigger than I got. She has blonde hair, around the same length as mine. She has pretty blue eyes – he always liked my eyes. She even dresses fairly funky; not the same as me, nut unique nevertheless. How does it make sense that he is basically dating my replica?

Pffft. Whatever.

So I guess I answered my own theory hereI’m still not over him. Not completely anyway.


Back to the here and now, and One Ball and I still haven’t said the big “L” word. There have been a few instances which are puzzling me though – I can’t work out if he is trying to tell me he loves me but is avoiding it, or if he is trying to subtly tell me he knows I’m thinking it and not to say it yet.

He sent me song lyrics but changed the word “Love” to “like” in every possible place. He also told me that he’s “in like with me”.

Is this his way of saying the “L” word? Or is he trying to DEFINITELY put across the point that he LIKES me, but doesn’t LOVE me? Confusing, much?

The weekend up to see him is still a bit up in the air. I can’t figure out what weekend I can afford to go up there, and the one weekend I DID want, I can’t get off work. The weekend after, I will be nursing him back to health after “the snip” and he doesn’t want to wait until the weekend after that. It sounds like this weekend or no weekend. I’m not entirely sure I can afford it this weekend. Humph.

The guy I couldn’t get rid of has popped up out of the woodwork. He’s on the verge of being homeless and hates his new job right now. Plus he’s flat broke and lost his cell phone – the one I persuaded him to get in the first place. He’s looking for a spliff and one of our chats. I guess this means he wants to have sex with me. I will most definitely be steering clear. I can’t deal with his thin cock or bad kisses.

Oh and The Lapdog walked past where I worked the other day and most definitely eye-balled. He’s still with his new Bitch. I looked like a deliberate walk-by.

All I need now is for the Big Love to pop up outta nowhere and we have ourselves a full house.

Bah Humbug.

Want to know what’s going on in my life? Follow me on Facebook & Twitter!

Wank-a-holics Anonymous.

I haven’t had sex in two weeks. Two weeks and two days. I am a very frustrated little bunny. I’m basically a walking hard on. That’s what I am – the female version of a walking erection.

I’m used to going without sex for weeks at a time. I don’t like it but I’m used to it. So what the hell is up with me now? Is my situation with One Ball making me like this? I’m literally throbbing from morning ‘til night, and most of the night too if my panties were anything to go by this morning. I have a feeling that I was jerking off in my sleep again last night. Soaking wet panties and fingers that smelled just like me gave the game away.

I’m a horn-dog by nature anyway; I never turn down sex, and I’d stay in bed all day fucking if I could. This is something completely else though – I am constantly thinking about sex. I woke up this morning and jerked off. I got to work and jerked off in the toilets at lunch time. I came home, smoked a joint and jerked off. Then I jerked off again an hour or so later. Just five minutes ago, I did it again. This is a bit much, even by my standards.

There seems to be sex everywhere I look right now. It’s like Nature’s little way of reminding me how much sex I’m NOT getting, even though I am in a “stable” relationship now. Fuck! I was having more sex when I considered myself to be single. At work today, a superbly hot guy came in and was served by my co-worker. And by hot I mean HOT! He had this super sexy smile with these perfectly straight, white teeth. And floppy hair that was pushed over to one side. He had a long black coat on with a grey scarf. I remember every little bit about him. As soon as it was quiet enough, I ran for my lunch and quickly snuck to the toilets.

I got home from work and put on an episode of Sons of Anarchy – I’m obsessed with this TV show at the moment. Guess what – plenty of sex, drugs, rock ‘n roll going on there too. Clearly this called for another wank.

It’s like everywhere I go and everything I see makes me horny. I don’t think I’ve ever been like this. I can’t figure out what’s making me like this! If it goes on any longer, I think it’s clinically going to be classed as a problem.

Needing sex soon!

I Want to Play a Game. Fucking politics.

One Ball and I are playing a game. Keeping it “spicy” if you will. We each have ten things written down on a list and every weekend we spend together, we are each going to try and do the ten things on that list, without the other person knowing. We will cross each one off after we have done it. At the end of it, whoever wins (ticks off all ten) will get the BIG prize – a fantasy of their choice fulfilled.

I think I know where we are both going with the one big fantasy – me, him and another chick. We will get to that in a moment.

So, I know one thing that is on his list. I will be wearing a skirt. He will be sitting on a bench. I will lift up my skirt – no underwear, climb on and ride him on this bench, in the great outdoors.

Up to now, I have 10 things on my list. It is changing regularly. They are as follows:

  1. Sex in the rain
  2. I want him to eat chocolate buttons off my body
  3. Champagne sex
  4. Me tied up and blindfolded. Him with a riding crop in his hand. The scene – Fifty Shades of Grey
  5. I wear red lipstick and kiss him all over his body. It’s like I’m stamping him as my own. For some reason, that makes me incredibly hot.
  6. Sex with my heels on. Maybe my Louboutins. I don’t know yet if he’s worth fucking all over the shoes the Big Love bought me. Time will tell. If not, I have a whole range of hot heels I can pick from.
  7. Angry sex in the bathroom. This stemmed from a scene out of Sons of Anarchy that got me hot and bothered. We have a fight. I storm into the ladies washroom. A few minutes later, he follows. I push him. He shoves me. We start kissing… Oh man!
  8. I want him to make me squirt all over his face. Gulp.
  9. I want him to fuck me in the ass. And I want it to be amazing.
  10. I want us to go shopping with my love egg in and him controlling the remote.

I think they are doable. I also think they are fucking hot. I started with a few easy ones. I don’t want to scare One Ball away just yet.

Now for the BIG prize – our naughty night in with another lady. I tried to start a sexy conversation about this and it didn’t go quite to plan. I asked what he would want her to look like and what she would wear. He responded with he didn’t know because all he could think about was me eating another girl out while he was fucking me from behind. Not a bad answer. That worked for me. I told him that I had an image in my head that I was going down on another girl that was topless, white garter belt on, stockings still on, panties used to tie her hands above her head. He made a joke of this and said it sounded like we were kidnapping a bride. This was not the answer I had expected. I turned it around, however, and told him that I didn’t know what I wanted more. It was either an innocent, virginal girl that we tie up and abuse together or a hot redhead that abused me in every which way imaginable. This was bound to get him going. I know he likes it when the girl is dominant, and he prefers a brunette. I don’t know why he’s with me – I’m a blonde.

This didn’t get him going. Well, if it did, he sure as hell didn’t tell me. He responded with something along the lines of – well you have plenty of time to sort all that out.

Doesn’t he know how much planning it takes to get something like this just right? You don’t just get drunk, pick up a girl and have your wicked way with her. Well, I suppose it could be like that. It was like that with me and my foursome in the garden shed when I was younger.

No, no, no gentlemen! The threesome with another woman does not work like that. Not when you are in your late twenties anyway. Certainly not for me. I bring you to the Fucking Politics:

I need to find a girl that I would have a threesome with. She can’t be skinnier than me. She can’t be prettier than me. Her tits can’t be as big as mine. She can’t be blonde. She can’t have more tattoos than me. I have three. Or piercings. I have 14… I think.

They can’t fuck. They can do anything apart from fucking. If he can’t watch me fuck another man, which he has made perfectly clear, I don’t have to watch him fucking another woman. This has been agreed. We have to have a few drinks first. There’s no way I’m going to be as brave as I was when I was younger. I need to have a few drinks in me before this happens. I think it would loosen everyone up. We can’t have eaten beforehand as I don’t want to feel bloated, and I certainly don’t want to need to do a number two right in the middle of it. C’mon ladies – there’s always a risk with sex after dinner.

She has to go down on me. I have to do down on her. We have to make each other cum. I want us both to suck his hard cock; gently fighting over it. I want to suck his cock while she licks his balls, and at the same time plays with my nipples. I want him to fuck me from behind while I go down on her. I want her to slide under me when he is fucking from behind and lap me with her tongue. I want to feel her lips on my clit. I miss the feel of a woman.

Wow. That escalated quickly.

I wish I could say that to him, but recently our sexual conversations have been awkward. I don’t think he’s quite got the hang of text sex yet. He’ll get there.

So now I am incredibly horny, and no amount of using my new rabbit is making anything any better. And the next time I get to see him, we won’t be able to fuck because he will be recovering after “The Snip” This situation does not bode well for me or my vagina. I have jerked off four times today, and as I sit here writing this, my vagina is literally throbbing, aching for me to get myself off again. I have the female equivalent of Blue Balls for sure.

So as I end this blog, you guys can be happy with the knowledge that the second I finished uploading this post, my panties will be down and my rabbit raring to go, bringing me to a satisfying climax that I wish I could share with you guys. And despite that, my pussy still longs for a hard, beautiful cock.

Sincerely, Frustrated.

P.S. We still haven’t said the “L” word.