What They Don’t Tell You About Losing Weight (Part Two)

a0594238511bd734fee363359390fbd3So… following on from What They Don’t Tell You About Losing Weight (Part One), I thought I’d bring the next instalment of the stupidly annoying things that happen when you lose weight. Let’s face it — most of us have been trying to shed those extra pounds for years so when it does happen, it almost seems too god to be true. I literally lost weight overnight – I wasn’t prepared for it, I wasn’t ready for it, it hit me like a slap in the face. As I’ve said before, I don’t think I’d be doing my duty if I didn’t share with you the things that surprised me the most about being a “Skinny-Minnie!”

So, starting right where we left off… Let’s jump right in!

6 – Say ‘bye to your bling!

I’ve got quite stumpy little fingers so you’d expect weight loss to be a welcome blessing. Don’t get me wrong, I love my thinner fingers, but I can’t wear hardly any of the jewellery that I own. Rings don’t fit anymore. Some of the ones that I used to wear on the “ring” finger (but on the wrong hand) I can get away with now wearing on my thumb, but some of them just aren’t suitable thumb rings. My rings don’t fit me anymore. And funnily enough, neither do some of my bracelets. No one warned me about this when I was trying to lose weight. Fuckers.

7 – They’ll judge your eating patterns.

If you, like me, manage to lose quite a bit of weight in a short period of time, people will judge you. They’ll tell you they aren’t judging you, and they are just worried about you. But they are judging you. If you eat loads, they’ll worry you’re going to get fat again. If you don’t eat, they’ll accuse you of having an eating disorder. If you try to eat a healthy, balanced diet, you’re a health nut and need psychiatric help. I don’t care how much you argue against it, that’s pretty much the long and tall of it. Trust me. I’m almost convinced I have an eating disorder. As I sit here and munch out on honey-nut breakfast cereal at quarter to six in the evening.

8 – Blah, blah, blah.

After a couple of weeks, this is all people are going to hear come out of your mouth. Literally. Blah, blah, blah. Once you start losing weight, that’s it; you’re off. It’s all you’re going to talk about. Check out my new leg muscles. Check out my new arm muscles. I’ve got hip bones I never knew I had. Wow! That’s a collarbone. I’ve got shoulder muscles! Quick, look at these calves!

Seriously, shut the fuck up. I talk about it ALL THE TIME. I’m proud of it. But I seriously need to shut the fuck up. They are sick to the back teeth of hearing it. Trust me, Bestie told me.

9 – You’re so vain, I bet you think this song is about you.

In the same way that you won’t be able to stop talking about it, you won’t be ably to stop looking at it. You’ll look in the mirror at your new body in the strangest of positions, wearing the oddest of outfits, and doing the oddest of things. The other day I actually stood in front of my mirror wearing superhero pyjama pants with custom made Disney Princess shoes that stood seven inches tall, with a white corset top on. I have no idea how I ended up in that state. I’m pretty sure I still hadn’t wiped off the remnants of last nights makeup so had the whole panda-eye thing going on, and I took a photo of my leg in the shoe. Minus pyjama pant, of course.

You’ll become obsessed with your own body image. It’ll drive you bat shit crazy, if you let it. It’s okay to check yourself out I the mirrors at work, in car window reflections, in the hand mirror you keep in your bag for makeup touch-ups… It’s okay to do this, but make sure that you don’t get caught doing it. You look fucking crazy.

10 – Nah thanks, I don’t drink.

These will be your new favourite words. Do you know why? Because you won’t be able to drink anymore. The average night out will give you the worst three-day hangover of your life, and the smallest of whiffs of wine will knock you on your ass. If you did what I did and stopped drinking (almost) for a year, the one night you do go on a splurge, it’ll kick your ass for days.

You won’t be able to drink the same drinks you used to. Nor will you be able to hold the quantity of booze you once managed. Get prepared for it.

11 – Dear Doctor…

Honestly, if you lose a bit of weight, you’d think it was the end of the world. Most women try for years to lose weight without success, and then one day they find something that works and it completely changes their life… at least for a little while. When you DO eventually manage to shed the flubber, you’ll convince yourself you’ve got cancer. Or diabetes. Or heart disease. Or an infected toenail…

Honestly, it’s ridiculous. I didn’t even realise I was losing weight at first and then bam! It just hit me. I was no the internet, symptom checking at every opportunity. At one point I had convinced myself I was pregnant even though I hadn’t had sex! It was ridiculous. Don’t get carried away with it. If you genuinely think someone is wrong, go get yourself checked out. You might be lucky like me — you might actually be losing weight!

10983c305a3a660f11a2eeb9ba427724See – I told you it would be a really long ranting post when I started over on Part One! This is another little section to add to the really annoying things they don’t tell you will happen when you start to lose weight.

I love the comments I’ve received on my blog and on Twitter too – I’m glad to know I’m not the only one going through this! Feel free to add your own in the comments beneath too! 🙂

Anyway, have a fab afternoon… Just thought I’d share a bit more. ‘Coz that’s what I do, right?

 

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Why do boys talk to me like that? Meet Number 9!

I’m not sure if I’ve ever mentioned this guy before. He’s Number 9 on the list – The Prison Warden. He’s not a prison warden anymore. In fact, I think he’s gone into politics which is partly why he has gotten back in touch. We haven’t really spoken that much – he happened to come into where I work one day and we exchanged numbers again. He was a guy I had a weird threesome with when I was with the Hubby. Pretty sure I also cheated on the Hubby another night with him too.

 
This is going to get a bit confusing. The reason I knew him was because he was going out with the girl that Number 19 (The Bad Memory) once dated, and had a kid with. Make sense? Didn’t think so… Lol!

 
Anyway… back to the story. He has suddenly popped up again outta nowhere. We’ve had each other’s numbers for almost a year with barely any contact at all. Now he’s messaging me everyday. It’s been verging on flirty but in that weird way that guys do it… Talking about sex. Just this morning I learned that he wanted a threesome with his girlfriend and another guy because his focus on her and he wants her to have as make fun as he can, even if it means not with him. What the fuck? Why do boys talk to me like that?

 
Firstly, why the fuck would I want to know that? Secondly, ew. I’ve had him in bed and I don’t remember either occasion. Clearly it can’t have been that good. The first time; the threesome, the Hubby and I were in bed and the Prison Warden was on the couch. In the middle of the night, Hubby and I were trying to get down to business and the Prison Warden storms into my room with his football socks pulled up as high as they will go, flashing us a bit of leg. We were all a little pissed to be fair, but it was as weird as it sounds.

 
Long story short, he ended up in bed with us. I was in the middle of a sausage sandwich and while the Hubby got to work on sorting me out with his hands, the Prison Warden blurted up my back. The Hubby wouldn’t let him “enter” me, you see, so he had to deal with just my hand and a quick grope of my boobs. In fact, does that even count as a threesome? Now I’ve said it, I’m not so sure.

 
Back to the topic in hand and I genuinely don’t understand why people, sorry boys, feel the need to talk to me about their sex lives. I’m not THAT girl anymore, and we definitely don’t have that kinda relationship. It’s not like there was any build up to it either. Just BOOMI like threesomes with other men!

 
Okay then. Freak.

 
Funnily enough, Number 9 is not the only man that has occupied my thoughts this morning. My Mr. Grey has popped up out of nowhere again, which is really weird as I was thinking to myself just last night how I fancied a nice night of kinky fuckery, and got myself off to the memories of our last visit.
He told me that he had a dream about me last night that was so good, and so real, he woke up with beads of sweat running down his body, and had the same body temperature as the heat on the sun. Blimey. I do miss My Mr. Grey, I won’t lie. We don’t talk that much anymore. I got Jock now, while he’s still casually fucking anything that moves and happens to glance in his direction.

 
I do miss the sex though. Sex with Jock is mindblowingly great, don’t get me wrong, but sex with My Mr. Grey is different. Does that makes sense?
The thing that gets me is that both of these men know I am dating someone. They both know this, they’ve both commented on it, they’ve both asked how my relationship is going, and they are both aware that everything is going on perfectly. What gives them the right to still have these conversations with me? What makes them thin that they can still talk to me about completely inappropriate things. If Prison Warden’s girlfriend were to read those messages, would she be happy? I very much doubt it. At the same time, if Jock were to see those messages, he’d flip his lid. He would see that I hadn’t responded to the messages in a sexual manner AT ALL, but that’s not the point.

 
I used to be a certain kind of girl so, to some extent, I do expect people to still think I would be THAT person. But surely they could see I wasn’t by my Facebook page, which is always dignified and positive at all times. I don’t air dirty laundry on my Facebook page, I don’t put bad photos on my Facebook page… I’m very anal about things. That’s probably more than a little vain but to be honest with you, I couldn’t really care less. That’s MY page so I’ll put what I want on it.

 
These guys can see that I’m not that kinda girl anymore, but still they talk to me in a way that probably would have still been a tad inappropriate back then. Why?

 
For now, I’m happy just ignoring the messages I don’t really like. It still pisses me off though. So guys, don’t do it. Don’t talk to me like that.

What They Don’t Tell You About Losing Weight! (Part One)

When I first started writing this, I didn’t expect it to end up being quite as long as it was so I’m gonna break things down into more manageable chunks for you… Apparently I can waffle on a bit 😉

So, if you’ve been following my blog for a while, you’ll know I’ve lost quite a lot of weight in a short space of time. Yes, I’ve turned into one of those people, and yes, I do talk about it ALL THE TIME. and guess what? I don’t really care. I’m proud of whatever it is that I did to encourage my body to start shifting those pounds. And I still don’t know what it was I did. But whatever.
A lot of different things kept happening when I lost weight, and they are things that I was completely, one hundred percent, totally un-prepared for! No one told me these things would happen. I feel that I wouldn’t be doing my “sisterly-duties” if I didn’t tell you about them.
If you lose weight, these things will happen to you:

1 – You will be cold. All the time.

fb49532463ea4dbd7b58088e11bbe80cSeriously, I’ve never shivered as much as I do right now. I’m cold all the time. I lived on the other side of the world where the winters hit as far south as minus fifty, so why the bloody hell am I suffering with the cold on THIS side of the world, where the most we need to deal with is a measly minus ten! If that!

You’ll need to wrap up warm if you lose weight. You’ll miss that protective layer of blubber when it’s gone, I can tell you that! Buy lots of sweaters, and be prepared for your heating bill to go up. Don’t say that I didn’t warn you.

2 – You’re gonna bruise like a peach.

dd5cb4de8bb7e1c9e8a7b57394e1352dI was always a bruiser. Seriously, my Hubby picked the wrong girl if he wanted someone to beat. You’ve only gotta look at my white, peachy skin and it looks like I’ve been kicked down the stairs. The thing is, since I got skinnier, I bruise even easier! If Jock gets even the slightest bit hands-on during sex, that’s it; I’m covered in bruises and once again, I look like a domestic survivor victim. You know that skin-grabby thing I told you he did? Well if he does that on my arms, hips, ribs or legs, I’m a pretty shade of purple in minutes.

So yeah, if you’re going to lose weight, be prepared to look like an earthquake survivor.

3 – Guys will wanna talk.

8cf66cd9ecfeb2d6c0bb775802137034Oh yeah, if you thought you had unwanted attention before, you’ve seen nothing yet. All sorts of blokes came out of the woodwork when I put up my weight loss before and after pictures on Facebook. I kinda guessed it would happen to be fair, but I didn’t expect it to happen in quite the fashion it did. It was mental. Within a couple of days of posting up that pic, I had guys coming at me from all angles… sadly not quite literally in the term it sounds. That mighta been quite fun! 😉

You’ll get attention from guys that you would rather run a million miles from, is the downside of being a skinny-minnie. I love a bit of male attention, don’t get me wrong. But when Malcolm, the shopping-trolley pushing troll from the local supermarket starts hitting on you, you know you’re in trouble.

4 – You know the style you had when you were a bigger girl? It won’t work anymore.

96e609a28dc3583af1820bc3c2d9a6b8Yup, my whole closet got revamped when I lost weight. Although I’m still curvy, I can’t pull off half the clothes I used to be able to. I’m not sure if it was the cleavage or the tiny waist, but I could pull off all manner of clothes. Now, although I’m still pretty busty and curvy, the same styles in smaller sizes just don’t look the same. I’ve gone from curvaceous and vintage/rockabilly, to leggings and geek-tees, converse trainers and all. I’m almost 28 years old for fucks sake, I shouldn’t still be rocking pink hair and “Marvel” emblazoned tees. Ask anybody; I still pull it off.

If you want to lose weight, you’re going to need to expect a complete closet overhaul. That dress that you always planned to wear when you lost a bit of weight? It won’t look as good as it does in your head. You might as well just get rid of it now.

5 – Your shoes won’t fit.

3ab24aa871600cc6e0278eddfe97a4edYou know that saying – “I buy shoes because shoes always fit, no matter what size you are”? Well, it’s utter bullshit. I have far too many pairs of beautiful shoes. Seriously. It’s a problem. I’ve admitted to it, I don’t want help for it; I have a serious shoe fetish. All of those beautiful shoes that I managed to squeeze my feet into? Well, they no longer fit. My feet are skinnier and bonier than what they were when I first started wearing these shoes, and they have stretched out to accommodate my previous fat feet. I can’t wear them anymore because I can’t keep them on my feet. Fuck you weight loss. In this respect, you totally and utterly fucking suck.

I’m kidding. Please don’t make me fat again.

So there you have it – the first part. It’s gonna be a long one… I must warn you. But I just thought I would share it. Because I’m pretty sure no one knows about these things and I do like to educate 😉

Keep your eyes peeled for part two!

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They Lost a Plane?

I don’t normally write about current events or politics or any of that stuff, mostly because I don’t generally have a clue what’s going on in my own life, let alone the rest of the world, but also because I find everything a tad confusing. I like the fact that I don’t know about this stuff. One minute I’m allowed to eat chocolate, the next day its bad for you. One minute I’m being told e-cigarettes are okay, the next I’m told they are just as dangerous as cigarettes themselves. I’ve learned, mostly from my time in the War Zone, that the media only tells you what they WANT you to hear, not what you SHOULD be hearing, so generally, I take things with a pinch of salt.

Recently, however, I’ve come across a story that I couldn’t help but follow, and I’m sure it’s one you would have heard of – the disappearance of the Malaysian plane.

43000aac39f98d602370490a565c5150I have a lot of issues with this story. For a start, how the fuck can you lose a plane? Secondly, remember when the TV show “Lost” came out and everyone said, don’t panic, it’ll never happen… Isn’t that basically what’s happening now…? Thirdly, I read this morning that the families of the passengers on board the Malaysian plan were told via text message that they have now assumed the plan crashed into the ocean, and also assume that none of the passengers will be found alive.

A FUCKING TEXT MESSAGE? If someone had turned around to me and sent me a text saying my Mama Bear was missing, presumed dead, I would hunt them down and punch them in the face. Who sends that sort of information over a text message? I know we are in a digital day and age now but really? Have we lost our communication skills so much that the only way we can communicate is via a 30-word text message? If that?

bd7e73f32435efae477cc8b0aba7847aI find it very difficult to understand how I can find my iPhone just by opening up Find My iPhone on my computer, but they can’t find a plane with 230-odd passengers on it, with a black box, and all that satellite shit they have going on? Last week I watched the space station take a lap over the earth on Channel 4…. Can’t they have found the damn plane?

It just goes to show, doesn’t it? We’re not invincible like we think we are. Every time we jump on a plane to go on holiday, we are putting our lives in someone else’s hands. I’ve flown loads over my lifetime… Any one of those planes could have gone down with me on it. I think I’ll mull things over next time I book a flight on the spur of the moment… especially seeing as I fly with those budget airlines that everyone bitches about.

I genuinely don’t understand how you can lose a plane. I know our planet is a really big one, and the oceans are filled with trenches, but how can people not know what happened? It blows my mind. It makes no sense to me.

I keep seeing all these conspiracies on the internet surrounding it and, to be honest, I’m trying not to read them. I dread to think how those poor families are feeling right now. My heart goes out to each and every one of them. I know how much my heart wrenched when I didn’t hear from my Hubby when he went to the War Zone. Every night he didn’t call, my heart would sink. That’s not even remotely close to what these poor people are going through right now. I’m genuinely worried about the people on the plane, and their friends, work colleagues and family. I don’t even know these people and I’m fearful. There’s a small fairy-tale part of me that truly hopes the “Lost” scenario has happened, and the people on the plane are surviving on some gorgeous and remote desert island paradise. Sadly, I’m a realist and I know the chances of that actually happening now are slim to none.

All I guess I can say is, if I was a religious person, I’d pray for those people and their loved ones right now. I’m not, but they do have all of my positive thoughts and love. I guess it’ll go down as one of life’s big mysteries…

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I Knew It!

93ba2e8f54e00b1b638c2e8c59f2bde2So…. the crazy fucking ex played right into my hands, just like I knew she would. I can’t quite remember where I left off with you guys so let me just recap for one moment…

Remember I was really pissed off about the crazy slut of an ex that seemed to be making my life a misery by taking up too much of his time, and his energy? Well, I had an angry outburst when I was on my period, resulting in Jock speaking to her and basically asking her to back down; something that, at the time, she agreed to, and even apologised to me at the same time.

Clearly this crazy bitch has been discussing the situation, and what was said, with her equally batshit crazy friends, and they have been spinning things into an entirely different way than what was said.

Jock tried to keep things a tad quiet because he knew I’d hit the roof when I found out. Apparently, the ex has told him that he cannot see HER daughter anymore; she doesn’t think its right, all of a sudden. Literally, within two days of her being fine when he had that conversation with her, she flipped and turned into an utter nutjob. What is up with these women? Christ!

d9cbecb42eca625f3df7fbda9ead2626So, I had to drag it out of him over a couple of days, but from what I can work out, this is basically what has happened: she has banned him from seeing her daughter, apparently I’ve “banned” Jock from talking to her, I’m wearing the pants in the relationship, he’s a pussy, I’m a cunt… Yes, she actually called me that. What a classy lady. It’s okay though, she called him that too.

Apparently, the torrent of hatred started when he was still at mine, but he didn’t want to tell me in case I went mental, so he chose to ignore it instead. From what I can make out, he hasn’t responded to her in a day or so, so who knows what’s going on? I know he still hasn’t got to see his kid.

The thing that pisses me off the most is the fact that she’s turning this entire thing around to Jock and making it appear that I’m the crazy bitch. I’m the one being unreasonable about her weird need to cling on to him. I’m being the cunt. Sorry, I’ve used that word twice now. But that’s actually what she called me. Can you believe it? How dare she say those things? I’ve never been anything other than respectful to her. When Jock and I first started dating, I kept things so quiet, no one knew about us. I didn’t put anything on Facebook about our relationship. In fact, I didn’t even add him on Facebook until we had been dating for a few months. The Facebook request is not something I hand out willy nilly. Na uh.

53166ff380881e832aa898fdb9c78e0aI was so respectful of her, her feelings, and her fucking daughter, right from the very start of our relationship. How can she now turn it around and call me the fucking C-word? How dare she?! I’m his fucking girlfriend. Every fucking time I put something on Facebook about Jock and I, she goes fucking sick on him again. It’s every fucking time. Guess what happened right before she went nuts at him this time… Yep, you guessed it; I put up a picture of the steak dinner he had cooked for me, and tagged him in it. This resulted in her unfriending him on Facebook, and telling him that she didn’t think they should have anything to do with each other anymore. How fucking childish is this girl? No, scrap that; she’s in her thirties for fucks sake. She’s a woman. She should have her shit together by now. Fucking moron. Wow she makes me so freaking mad!

The thing is we have a dilemma here, boys and girls. On the one hand, I’m only a paper-thin sliver away from absolutely blowing my top at her, and probably Jock too. I want to be the cool, understanding girlfriend and make life easier for my wonderful boyfie but she is making it so damn difficult. He is too – I know he doesn’t want to rock the boat too much with her because of the kid-connection, but this is taking the piss, well and truly. How much does he expect ANY girl to handle? I’m probably a bit “touchier” than the average girl; a little high maintenance, if you get my drift, but regardless of this, I can’t imagine less feistier women being fine with the amount of involvement she still has in his life either. What does he expect? I’m a woman! What woman enjoys having another (ex) woman sniffing around her man. I’m starting to wonder if things are really over between them, or if I’m just a passing phase; his little 20-year-old Twinkie, making her jealous so she comes crawling back. That’s probably a little exaggerated but you get my drift.

d99e744c5b1ffac98f3d126f5ee93c7dI don’t know what the hell I’m gonna do about this bitch. One thing is for sure, this cannot carry on, and if it does, I’m out. I love this guy but I’m not getting involved in unfinished business. I just gotta find my biting point I guess. Or realise I’m over-reacting. I’m sure I’m not, but I have been known to from time to time…

What I Like About Being a Girl

I came across a post from Life of a Lover Girl that blow me away and gave me inspiration for a whole bunch of stuff for the blog. I love it when I come across a post that does that to me. My fingers go into overdrive, jotting down all these notes that I want to talk about. Thanks for that chick! Loved reading it!

In the blog she writes about online dating from a male perspective, which is something I’d love to try, but it also made me think about all the GREAT things about being a girl. We give guys a hard time sometimes, and we should give them a break. After all, don’t us girls kinda abuse being girls a bit?

I like being a girl because…

photoFirstly, I get away with so much shit if I cry. Or flutter my eyelashes. I was blessed with ridiculously long eyelashes that I make look beautiful with smart mascara usage, and baby-blue eyes that would melt even the coldest of hearts. Combine that with permanently pinky-red lips that are both nicely plump AND have that whole “cupid’s bow” thing going on, and there’s not much I can’t get away with. I totally abuse the way I look, especially now I’m much slimmer. I’ve got a cute face. Enough people tell me; that’s not me being up my own ass. You can hate me now 😉

I take for granted that he SHOULD pay for dinner on the first date, open the door for me, carry my bags, etc. I was blessed with a best friend that I have managed to mould into pretty much my perfect guy. This is bad for him because it means no other girl is ever going to be good enough to be his girlfriend, but also good for him because I take care of him and he understands women. I should probably talk about Bestie at some point, and the odd relationship we have. It’s one that no one understands… Maybe later I’ll fill you in.

Back to the topic in hand, and let’s face it; it doesn’t really matter how badly a girl behaves, there’s a good chance that she’s still going to get the guy, and get her drinks paid for that night. If she’s hammered-drunk, hanging off a pole in the middle of a club, clunge hanging out all over the place, she’s not going to need to pay for her drinks or a cab because the guys looking for an easy lay are going to jump on that like a tramp on chips. On the other end of the scale, and you could be completely dignified, making him wait three or four dates before he gets the “golden ticket” and always remembering to cross your legs when you are wearing a skirt, and you’ll STILL get the guy.

Girls get laid so easy, it’s a joke. I’m never short of male admirers, even when I was at my heaviest weight, and I often wonder how I managed to get the guys I did. I was most definitely punching well above my weight on more than one occasion.

Guys have gotta behave a certain way when they are dating, especially if they want the nicer girls; the girls that don’t beaver-out at any occasion. A man can’t get hammered drunk and hang off a pole, still expecting to take someone home later on that night. There’s so much pressure on the guy to be the respectable gentlemen, and all the girls need to worry about is what shoes go with that jacket. Come on – it’s not really that big of a decision in the grand of scheme of things, is it? I expect my man to save me from a zombie apocalypse and prevent me from getting murdered on a daily basis. I need a silver back gorilla. That’s why I’m glad I’ve got one.

e31f5b267cef1d5688943756dcd0bab4I love being a girl because of the dress-up factor. Now I’ve lost a bit of weight, I’m ore adventurous with my wardrobe choices and I’m finding all these new ways to let my personality out in the way I dress. I’m having so much fun piecing that dress with those shoes, and I’m even buying outfits and garments that I would never before have dreamed about wearing. I love that part of being a girl; the men have a bum deal of things if they are into fashion, I think. There’s only so many ways you can wear a pair of trousers, right? Lol!

Girls abuse so many things to make life easier for them. I’m all for equality, for example, unless it comes to throwing around the vacuum cleaner and then it is most definitely a “blue job”.

I do pink jobs, Bestie does blue jobs… It’s as simple as that. However, if you tell me that Bestie should get paid more for doing the blue jobs, I’d have a shit fit. Every woman I’ve ever met plays on the equality card when it suits them. I’m all for getting muddy and doing a spot of DIY or Playstation playing to show off my masculine side, but expect me to get rid of that massive spider on the stairs and you can fuck right off. Sod equality when there’s a spider or a wasp in my house…

Of course, there is one MASSIVE benefit to being a girl. This is one that outweighs them all in my opinion. It’s the fact that people don’t expect me to have done half the shit I’ve done in my life. I’m two years and three months from thirty, yet I’ve done more than most guys my age could even begin to think of. I’ve travelled to the other side of the world and back. I’ve lived in some of the most beautiful and breath-taking countries on the planet. I’ve seen beautiful sights like Niagara Falls and the Northern Lights. I’ve seen a Mama black bear play with her cub. I’ve found a way to make money from the comfort of my own pyjamas. I’ve been to a war zone and been showered with rockets. I’ve been stood three feet away from a suicide bomber. I’ve drunk my own body weight in alcohol, and then some more. I’ve done more drugs than you’d ever expect a girl that looks like me to do. I’ve jumped out of a plane. I’ve cut down a tree with a chain saw. I’ve snowboarded down the Rocky mountains. Need I go on? I’m a pretty adventurous girl.

34be1e7d3936320178bcc3691b3da2bfWhen you look at me now, I’m a UK size 10 girl with Barbie blonde hair (well actually, right now my hair is pink because I can’t work out what is going on with it), massive baby-blue eyes, massive knockers, stupidly high impractical shoes, a Barbie fetish, and a passion for anything pink. When I tell these guys I’ve been to a war zone, they look at me in complete disbelief. When I tell them I got myself a medal, they ask to see it, and I know it’s because they think I’m talking shit. Jock was in the military and still never went to where I went. I love surprising guys with shit like that. It makes me feel empowered. When I also tell them that I own two successful money-making websites, an anonymous blog, I work in the mobile industry, and I’m a freelance writer, they know they are dealing with someone special. I have a lot of shit going on in my life and I fucking love it. And the adventures that it takes me on.

Life is hard for girls, don’t get me wrong. There are a million and one things I could list for what I hate about being a chick. Periods, pregnancy, hormones, weight gain, not understanding men… I could go on. At the same time, however, you have handbags, big cuddles from hot men, Rampant Rabbits, Christian Louboutins, Dairy Milk chocolate bars, Disney, men having to buy your drinks in the bar, men waiting twenty minutes for you to get ready, wedding dresses, cooing over cute friends’ babies… Need I go on?

Is life really that hard for a girl? Well, I don’t think so. But then again, I use my feminine powers like they are something out of X-Men so maybe I’m just a smart girl?

And they say we leave games in the playground 😉

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So… What Happened?

Let me just take a moment to remember where I left off last time… Oh yeah, I was waiting for him to text back, and hoping for him to offer to come to mine. I was livid at him but I really missed him, and my lust for his smell came over my need to be angry at him.

I messaged him in one last bid to save my weekend…

“I guess you’re busy tonight too then.”

We had a brief chat, mostly me telling him how pissed off I was, and how much of a dick he was, and we even had a fight, resulting in me hanging up on him. Well, I say I hung up on him, but the reality of it was I tried to but I couldn’t get my phone to light up so in order to hang up, I needed to take the back off my Samsung Galaxy S4 and remove the battery. It seems to be a bug that constantly happens on my phone – it doesn’t light up when I’ve finished with the call so I can’t access the on-screen buttons in order to end the call. It’s a pain in my ass and it makes angrily hanging up on someone a rather hilarious moment. I’m pretty sure I could hear him laughing because he knew exactly what I would be doing, and my angry face whilst I was doing it.

It wasn’t long before he asked if he could come and get me. He loved me, he wanted to see me and he was sorry; so sorry that he would be willing to drive 22 miles just to spend less than 24 hours with me. It won me over and I hopped in the shower…

The second I got into his car, I was calm. The second we got into his trailer, I was relaxed. The second he wrapped his arms on me on the couch, I was in my happy place. He has a very soothing effect on me, considering how excitable he is, and he had well and truly soothed me right back to peace.

We spent a very relaxed night together, and I gave him a mind-blowing blowjob. Mother Nature had come to visit, quite spectacularly, after being a week late. One sick day from work, almost two boxes of tampons, and one million and seventy-four furious outbursts later and I still wasn’t quite finished with my period, so sex was off the menu. We haven’t done that yet, the whole sex on your period thing. Just so you know.

I did dry-hump him like a fifteen year old chav, however, getting myself off quite nicely. Hence the mind-blowing blowjob. It was “toe-curling”. I know this because he told me. Awww. Love his face. 

The next night, he came to mine. He has a potentially-losing-his-job situation going on involving his driving license. I don’t have one so I don’t have a clue what he is talking about. I know he got some points, and when he sent the license off for an address change, they sent it back without some of the big license things on the back, meaning that he couldn’t do his job as a recovery truck driver, but aside from that, I don’t have a scooby-doo. Anyway, he isn’t working right now. That’s why he came to mine.

He cooked me dinner. He cooked me steak and potatoes and baguette and stuffed mushrooms! Fuck steak and blow job day, it was steak and dry-hump day. And I bet it was still better than any steak and blow job day you guys had! That night, we went to bed and dry-humped some more. I slept better than I had done for days. I had been fed, I had been cuddled and I had cum. Life was complete. I was happy. I’m so primitive.

We are back to being very much in love. That’s the thing with him; I’m never mad at him for long. He has this funny little way of bringing me right back to Lovers-ville with an almighty bump, and I simply adore him for that fact alone.

So yeah. That’s what happened.

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