Sunday, 8 January 2012

Wake Up Call

Some mornings I wake up and in that moment of dreaming meets reality, I question what has really happened in the hours before dreaming commenced.  Some morning I remember funny jokes and greats days and nights out, and some morning I remember nothing.  The nothing is normally due to a bad day or nights experience, or sometimes due to exactly that, nothing at all. The day, the time, the location, blank.  I lay there for a few minutes and question exactly what I am feeling, or more to the point, what I should be feeling.  I run through all I can recall and evaluate what steps need to be taken next.  Do I need to do something? Apologise, pack something, ring someone, be somewhere or nothing at all, every things fine.  Then I pull myself out of the haze and start the day.  I hate those few minutes, there a gambling game.  They can result in a moment of pure happiness, or a moment of regret or annoyance, I never know in those seconds which one it's going to be.  This morning however, it was good.  I'm back in Manchester, with my housemates downstairs or still in bed, I love that.  The knowing your not alone without direction or motivation for what you should do next.  When the questioning is other, I listen, and on the days I hear the hustle and bustle of a busy household, I feel like I'm back with the world.

I have finished my dissertation and all other assignment, I can smile and feel content with my achievements and myself in general.  I live for those mornings, they are the drivers behind most of my decisions.  My subconscious is finely tuned to the actions and choices that will most likely bring about these morning and those that definitely won't.  Most commonly my fuck buddy bears the brunt of this decision making motivator, much  to his annoyance, I remove him to the spare room each night to ensure a morning of peace.  My treatment of him is almost down right rude.  Exact instructions for what I want and how I want it, followed by rude orders for various demands.  Yet this attitude is often the one attribute that keeps my men wanting and interested.  They may say they hate it but often when I allow myself to take instruction rather than giving it, they loose interest and the relationship diminishes.  My one fault is oddly often, my one undeniably attractive feature, and this is also my biggest problem.  When I am finally worn down by the affectionate words and considerate gestures, I become completely obedient.  Instantly regretting any rudeness or strong words I may have let slip.  Suddenly, the feature that they came to secretly adore and even respect, is gone and all that is left is an ever obedient wifey.

So I will keep this strong willed feature to a rational medium and hope that when I finally do find some essence of attraction forming, I do not completely change.  But at the same time, I will keep this attitude throughout the relationship and hope the 'shock factor' does not raise its ugly head as wifey comes to the surface.

Ever so slightly, yet not overwhelmingly, hot tempered MissE, signing out

Tuesday, 20 December 2011

Problem Solved

Well, thats it.  I just spent the last 20 minutes trying to pull together a time line, sometimes you just need to know the truth.

He dumped me for her

He added her on Facebook 6 days after he dumped me, he dumped me because he wanted to get with, was getting with her.  I have spent the last 8 months trying to persuade myself not to be angry, to accept that these things happen and sticking up for him against every bad thing everyone said.

'He's not a bad person, he's just a bit thoughtless at times'

Well I'm officially a dick, he is a wanker, he's a heartless, using, uncaring, mean bastard.  He continued to text me all summer saying he wanted to see me and at one point even denying he ever dumped me.

I'm over it, this anger will soon turn into utter disregard for him and everything connected to him.

So here's to 2012, to finding a good man, finally.  And to hoping that class A C**T gets struck by lightening, and if not that, then at least the recession.


One of those Days

Today I woke up, covered in sweat and trying to work out reality from the awful images that seconds before had consumed my head.  He's done, moved on, completely over it, and worse than that? their official, hand in hand, boyfriend and girlfriend.

And I'm sitting here, panting, still having dreams/ nightmares about him and his new me.  Why can't I move on? I keep convincing myself theirs no one worth while out there and my new man option just hasn't come along.  All of those man options and no one worth while...really? 

My sister spent the last 5 years getting over her x boyfriend who brutally dumped her for a younger version of herself.  His mother died early this year and she came to his rescue, all the way till her funeral where he completely ignored her whilst clinging desperately to the new her.  That was it, the slap in the face she needed to finally forget and move on, one month later, and she has a fully comital, loving relationship with a wonderful boy.  

So what if these man options previously listed are suitable options and I just won't let myself consider them? I'm still stuck in the 'I'm a girlfriend already, so please leave me alone' phase.  I'm not a girlfriend, I'm not in love, I've not moved on.  So what should I do to finally get out of this love slump? I'm so bored of it, I stalked his Facebook page today and felt that hot burning feeling that I felt the first time he dumped me.  Please God make it end, its horrible, I just need a man that will stay, won't be mean and won't bail at the first whisper of long term commitment.  

So I'm sending out an official plea, please please please send me someone to get me over this and take away this burning sensation.  In public I insist that a man would intrude on my independence and wouldn't be welcome, but here, I'll admit openly, I need a man.  

So please God, send me 2012 with new hope and a man, a real man 


Sunday, 11 December 2011

So Many Choices and Still No Options

I have officially resided myself to the nunnery in my head, the mixing of men, emotions and me, is now banned.  I say the nunnery in my head because I'm enforcing this ban mentally, whilst physically enjoying the benefits of my previously detailed, fuck buddy.  I am perfectly able to enjoy the physical pleasures of a man, but the emotional bullshit is officially off my christmas list.

But as everyone knows, the best way to attract a member of the opposite sex is to not want them, so, obviously, I have now found myself with a conveyer belt of man options.

Man number one is a long standing friend of mine, easy on the eyes if you catch my drift.  Two years of constant classroom fantasies of his plentiful manhood and now, when I decide to leave my pursuit of the perfect man behind me, he steps up, hands at the go go... and I? couldn't be less interested. Nowt, nothing, nada, couldn't raise my interests if he came smothered in chocolate with a year long promise of multiple orgasms attached...  So thats Johnny, Man choice one.

A few days after my meeting with Johnny, I decided to attend an impromptu meet up with old friends in a lovely little restaurant in London and who happens to of joined the merriment, but the gorgeously dark and handsome man who filled my head for two years of school room boredom.  Whilst starring into those wonderful eyes, I saw that look.  That look that every girl knows means one thing, he's interested.  Two years of longing looks in the school yard stretch and now, 5 years later, he decides to offer a protective and very flirty hand... at times like this I believe the universe does have a sense of humour...  Connor, Man choice two.

Now there is the long time friend who I met whilst travelling in Thailand,  always made suggestive remarks and witty hints but never committed to any type of real emotions.  But, obviously, whilst on a night out in the drunken pit of Black Dog Ballroom last night, he decided to introduce his tongue to my unexpecting mouth and declared long felt love for my shocked and confused looking face....  Thailander, Man choice three.

Now I'm not one for being completely arrogant but when a guy grabs my hand for no obvious reason, or attempts to shove his tongue down my throat, I can take a hint.  I had happily resided myself to my weekly fuck buddy meet ups and a 6 month break from my eternal man hunt. Yet here I sit, utterly bewildered and totally unattracted by my sudden influx of man choices.  I literally wished on stars for this personal man buffet three months ago but here they are and my interest levels out of 10? minus 5.

I could write books on the reasons why I should give each of these men a chance and silence my voices of cynicism and negativity, but the idea of spending time with a man in the hope that one day my interests and emotions will finally be peeked, is well..... uninteresting.  My emotional need for a man to call me his beloved and spoon without question, has at long last it seems, died.

Maybe by satisfying my physical needs with the simplest of situations, my urgency to find a significant other has been diminished, or maybe I just passed the point of caring.  The idea of finding a man who knows how to satisfy a women, whilst also having the increasingly rare attributes of humour, intelligence and simply having a fucking clue, just seems unimaginable. I could give these men a go, but the chances are, a few weeks/months in, numerous short comings and disappointments would inevitably come to light and my time would once again of been utterly wasted.

Even my convenient  and uncomplicated fuck buddy has the increasingly annoying problem of never finishing in the bedroom.  Excuse being, after 4 years of wanting and waiting, the actually reality of receiving is so nerve racking he finds himself unable to relax and complete.  So why should I invest time and effort into these suddenly available man options, just to find there completely wrong for me later on down the line?

At which point does self preservation kick in to protect ones ever decreasing belief in finding the one? And have I infact, already reached this point of utter disinterest?

Answer? Unknown.

Decision? Stay tuned.


Tuesday, 22 November 2011

You Might Meet Me Later?? Ummmmm....No Thanks

His Text:
"Hi, I know we arranged to meet this Sunday but I've got a mate round so I'm going to have to cancel, how about I make it up to you by taking you for a date on Tuesday."
Two days later...
"Hi, sorry I'm feeling a little ill and have loads of work so I might not be able to make it tomorrow, I'll txt you before to let you know."

When did we become so dispensible men feel they can offer a meet up and then cancel or attempt to rearrange last minute...all the time? 

The Reply:
"Actually, I've been invited out by friends, so I'll do that instead, lets just meet up some other time"
...Aka, 'you dick, you actually think I've got nothing better to do with my evening then wait by the phone for your call? Please, I actually have a social life, so bugger off and don't come back till you have a worth while enough offer for me to consider you again.'

Ofcourse men do not get this subtle under lined message, if on occasion they do, they suddenly turn into their five year old selves after their mother threatened to take away their favorite toy and give it to the boy next to them.

Sometimes I wonder what I'm doing wrong, I go over and over past events trying to work out what my down fall was.  On this occasion the above events were to a friend of mine rather than me, for once.  Suddenly I stopped going over my history with Henry and felt a momentary sense of confidence, it's not me, its them.  If this seemingly regular Manchester man can dismiss this size six, long legged perfection then the insanity must be theirs.  Another friend of mine also had a date cancelled a matter of hours before meeting with just a simple "sorry, realised I'm busy tonight, might be able to make it around 11pm though?", simple response to that, "maybe not".

Why do we sit down and loose confidence in ourselves when we are quite obviously not the ones at fault? I sometimes find myself breathing in when I pass mirrors, or pulling that stupid mirror face so many of us have.  I then make a personal note to loose a stone, lather myself in fake tan and invest in a wig.  I've always told myself I'll grow out of it, but a decade on and the self criticism has only become more consuming, with only minutes or hours of contentment in each day.  If my own attempts at training my thoughts to be slightly more positive have failed so miserably, I think I'm finally open to other options and suggestions.  We had a session with a life coach yesterday and whilst I found her 'happy happy' presentation unbearable, she had a very good point, we can't control what others do but we can change and control ourselves.  I would like to change my cynical ways and become a slightly more optimistic person, but I just don't see that happening.  My mother has a saying "hope for the best, plan for the worst", however without realising I had unconsciously changed it into my own personal life long mantra "hope for the best, expect the worst".  Optimism isn't my forte.

My sister is celebrating her 28th birthday today and is being taken out by her brand new boyfriend after five birthdays of singlehood and living at home. They say time heals all and age brings wisdom, well I'm only 23 so maybe this is all to come.

Heres to finding out


Monday, 21 November 2011

Round Two?

Getting what I want or considering what he needs

We meet as we have any other day, I've known him for five years and we have been nothing but friends. In University we shared a bed one night after a very drunken evening celebrating his birthday, I knew him but not well.  My best friend had dated his best friend for years, so as she ventured into her x-boyfriend's room, he offered me his.  'Richard' was very sweet and obviously shy beneath it all, so I slept there and to my surprise, had one of the best nights sleeps I'd had in weeks (halls were not the best place for a good nights rest).  So after that we became 'sleeping buddies', one of the only men I had met at University that I could actually sleep next too, every other man would have me up and out by 7am in my haste to get away.  I had an idea he fancied me a while after we met and one drunken evening I received a text from him asking if anything was ever going to happen between us, I told him we were friends  and our friendship resumed unquestioned.  Five years and countless meet ups later we met again in the Northern Quarter for a night of bar hopping and drunken debautery.  It started out as normal, I told him about the latest wanker I was dating, he told me about his sporting activities and recent knee injury.  Three bars later and I was starting to feel the numerous cocktails I had devoured a little more than him, so we moved on to the Black Dog Ballroom so he could play catch up.  Two pool games and six Jagerbombs later and a flirty banter was creeping into our drunken interaction, then the moment occurred.  I looked up just as he looked down and for a second we locked eyes and forget all conversation, he looked different and for a second I wondered what this meant. Then, before I could process the moment, he looked away and headed off for last orders.  A moment of confusion and questions, 'did we just have a moment?', we had, and when he returned from the bar with two Jagerbombs I lead him to a corner booth to sit and possibly, resume.  We clinked and downed, then he looked at me as I relished the last drops of my dutch courage.  I looked up as he moved closer and then before I could feel a single butterfly, he finally after five years, kissed me.  And that was it, locked in that position for the next twenty minutes till I finally ask the question he later told me he'd waited to hear, "do you want to go home?".  We headed out for a taxi and in the back seat of a hackney carriage he found a new sense of confidence I'd never seen before, amazing.  He may be shy and awkward in the light of day, but he certainly wasn't in dim light of that taxi ride to my quaint student house, and he didn't disappoint.  After months of washing machine kisses and two second flourishes, I was finally able to enjoy myself in a way I hadn't experienced since my last meeting seven months before with 'Henry".  How had I not known about this boy that had been there for five years and countless dates?

Now our second meet up looms and with the knowledge of what would normally be expected to happen, I have to stand back and ask, 'is it ok to get with this boy who may possibly be far more emotionally involved than I could ever be?'  I do not believe in lying to nice people or leading them astray, I love Henry and for a long time more I shall still love Henry, I cannot get emotional envolved with someone new untill I can say I am at least partly over Henry.  Men have often told me that "our affair is nothing more than fun" and they can't commit, I have of course said I feel the exact same way, till I don't. Can I be a man and allow this fling to progress when I know that the words "I don't care either", mean nothing three months in?  So I will ask him up front what his feeling on the matter are (a courtesy never extended to me by any man) and whilst I may be hoping to arrange a friends with benefits deal, I will only do so if I truely believe no harm will be done six months down the line when I leave for London never to return.

So heres to hoping, every women has her needs


Sunday, 20 November 2011

"I Want to Raid your Honour"

A Different Manchester Weekend 

Sometimes the goals you hold dearest can seem completely unattainable and the pursuit of such high hoped dreams pointless.  I have found that the one piece of advice so often handed out is annoyingly, the right one, you will find what you want when you stop searching for it.  As an eternal single, I find this theme runs most often in my love life, though as time has gone on it has seeped into my everyday.  'Henry' once boasted to me (in his annoyingly arrogant way), "I'm so laid back, I'm practically horizontal"...well, what response can anyone give to that.  I have always struggled with my temper and inability to accept authority.  Till one day, standing on an underground platform, waiting for the over due arriving of my train, I found myself consumed with anger and a steadily rising body temperature.  Suddenly I realised I couldn't be this angry over something so trivial and completely out of my control.  It's a train, a matter of minutes late, if I can't handle this, I'm fucked.  And there it was, acceptance.  After this enlightening moment I finally managed to get a grip on my anger and became more 'horizontal'.  

However, whilst living at home this summer, under the authority of my mother and ever opinionated and preaching sister, I lost my enlightenment.   Since then it has been a slow progression into sheer anger at everything and most people (as my blog entries probably show).  But enough is enough, no one can succeed and be happy in a permanent state of utter rage and hatred.  So I have now decided to start again, I'm living in my student house under my rules, with the continual help rather than hinderance of my housemates, so theres no excuse for anger.  I will stop eating my way through a life supply of calories, critiquing and judging every new hand I shake and giving up every time things go a little off track.  I can't make promises but I can make goals that are attainable and with the knowledge that I have achieved them before, I'm sure I can again.  

My weekend was spent with the ever calming presence of my darling (we'll call her Juliet....her normal name is also taken from a Shakespearian play) Juliet.  We spend time talking under the warmth of my electric blanket and hours touring store after store, trying on the ridiculous and the obscure items of highstreet fashion today. I became 'London MissE', rather than the angry, awkward and stupidly shy 'Manchester MissE', all my northern friends have come to know.  If I could do it for 2 days with her by my side, I can do it for one months without her physical presence.  So I will, I will breathe, count to ten, consider the situation and reasons for the situation and find an alternative reaction. Maybe then my New Years revolution can be to improve on my current work, rather than to change everything and completely write 2011 off.  

So, I'm going to keep to my attainable goal, a better me by January.  If I don't like me, I'm fucked if I think anyone else will.