I'm naked, I'm numb, I'm stupid, I'm dumb

So remember when I said I was rubbish at dating...

Well, Saturday evening started to make me think differently.  I went out for dinner with New Kid (that's right folks, there's a whole new manshape on the scene) & I felt it went really well.  Starting to really like this kid.  He's always been a gent, never tried anything.  Maybe to the point I wasn't sure if he was actually keen.

Then me being be...Encouraged Let things get a lil out of hand...Let's just say, there was some making out without the presence of clothing.  I have literally no self control around incredibly hawt, toned, well dressed men.  [sigh]

Only there's been this lil cloud over New Kid's age...I've gone as far as to request ID, but he assured me he's legit...Then some social media evidence appeared, which not only proves he's lying, but also that I really do seem to attract teenagers.  Nearly cried, not gonna lie!

Thing is, I honestly don't really care about his age.  Alright, this massively makes me some kind of cradle snatching cougar, but why lie!?  I abide being lied to, I really do!  Like, man up & be honest.  Risk it for my biscuit kid, 'cause right now you've got a lot of making up to do!

Maybe I'm not so much bad at dating & more rubbish at picking men...I just seem to pick boys instead!  I'm ID checking everyone from now on!  Swear down!

In the meantime, I have found a Lykke Li remix which is like my version of Prozac in this terribly shameful situation!

You left me in the dark, no dawn, no day

It's official: I don't know how to date!  Cereal, when did this shit get so frickin' hard!  I honestly don't remember it being this hard five years ago, y'know, before The 'douchebag' Ex came along & destroyed my ability to be a sexual deviant.  Bastard!

Back in the day I used to juggle three menshapes at a time!  I mean c'mon, you need backups right!  Now dating ONE guy at a time frazzles my mind!  I need help, serious help.  Like some kind of manual.  Just tell me the rules, of course I'll break them, but at least I'll have some guidance on it!

It also doesn't help that the word slow doesn't appear in my vocabulary.  Patience has never been my virtue, let's face it.  I'm an instantaneous kinda gal.  I like you, you like me, badda bing badda boom!  None of this text round the houses shit.  I mean, The Ex had moved in after three months!  Not that I want that kinda intense shizzle again anytime soon!

To top off my dating issues, it seems only prepubescent boys seem to be attracted to me.  Apparently my face age has been reduced to seventeen.  SEVENTEEN!!!  I hope I appreciate this youthful glow when I'm thirty.  Right now it is greatly getting in the way of my bearded, tattooed, hawt, tanned menshape dreams!

[sobbs]

I'm just gonna look at these beautiful menshape specimens to attempt to remember what I NEEEEEED!!!

Make it out of this grind, 'fore I'm out of my mind

I feel it's been a complex few months, to say the least.

Firstly, I agreed to meet up with The Boy, to 'catch up' & mainly for me to be able to voice my grievances over how things ended.  It had been two months since I'd last seen his face.  The first month was spent wallowing in self-pity.  Dealing with the feelings of utter rejection & worthlessness.  The second month was spent realising that I was better than that & that actually, let's face it, he's just one of many & nothing to cry over.

So there's me feeling all empowered & 'over it', got off my chest everything I'd been bottling up for the past two months.  Told him I wanted nothing but friendship & all that jazz.  The next day I felt good.  I was finally able to move on, having been able to tell him what a douchebag he is for the way he treated me.  Unfortunately, this feeling lasted all of two seconds before I realised that, he'd essentially, hooked me back in again & I was going to have to start the whole process over again.

Then my friend Maria dragged me out at the weekend & who did I have the misfortune of bumping into; The Boy.  It had been three weeks since our 'catch up', with no word in between.  I was not prepared & let's face it, I was drunk.  We exchanged words.  I found out, rather unfortunately, that he'd been 'active' with a few girls out in Ibiza on a recent trip.  I won't lie...There may have been some tears.  Thankfully not in front of him.  Or else I would have crawled into a ball & died of embarrassment!!!

Today I met up with one of my bestest friends, Kitty Kat.  I've literally known her for fifteen years!  Which is crazy.  But the length of our friendship is useful at times.  Such as now, when we are both going through somewhat of an identity crises, mainly brought on by evil menshapes!  Having known each other since we were ten years old, we have essentially grown up together.  We know who each other were, who we are now & who we distinctly are not.  Right now we're hanging out in the 'distinctly not' area.

We're lost.  I for one appreciate that, this current state of sombre madness, is not something I am going through alone!

As I said to Kitty, when you're on your own, you have a strong sense of identity.  However, when you're in a couple, you loose sight of this & you tend to merge into someone/something else.  Everything is compromised.  Which is as ridiculous as it is inevitable.   The uniqueness of you is what draws someone to you & then your relationship ends up depleting you of it entirely.  Then the relationship ends & you are left completely bewildered & lost.

We're both in the desert right now.  Plus, we've both reached the twenty five milestone & to be honest I'm in a confused state of mind as to how I'm supposed to act at this age.  I'm in limbo dammit!

To summarise, I am currently in a state of confusion.  I've entirely lost my sense of identity, purpose & general direction in life.  Therefore, the following months shall be spent job hunting, spending time with the people that know me best (even when I don't know myself!) & attempting to muddle through to some clarity.

That is all.

Took nothin from no man, man I'm my own man

In one of those 'as you do' moments, I asked mère to pay for me to get my septum pierced for my birthday.  I've wanted it done for years, but it's just one of those things I've never got round to doing.

So yesterday, I finally went & got it done!

Not gonna ball it, it hurt like hell.  Actually shed a tear when the needle went through!  I was so glad Sir Fleming was there to hold my hand.  I was originally going to go in & get it done on my own, which would not have been a good idea, as I almost fainted after it had been done!

I'm so pleased with it though.  However, walked into work today & my manager immediately ordered me into her office.  I literally started welling up straight away!  She said I could either take it out there & then, or have six weeks off unpaid 'til it heals & I can change the ring to something that can be hidden.  You can imagine how pissed I was, I actually burst into tears like a retard.  I'm not one for being told what I can or cannot do, especially with my own body!

I told her I wasn't going to take it out & although I'm in no position to lose my job, I would have happily walked out there & then on principle alone.  I think she knew that.  She called me back into her office a lil while later & said she'd compromise by letting me keep it in until it's healed & then I'd have to change it.

I mean honestly, it's not even a big ring!  Grrrr!  This has officially pushed me over the edge & I am now fully planning on going job hunt crazy!  No one puts Porritt Pants in the corner!  I'm so serious about this I'm going as far as to lose my precious claws & having regular shaped nails.  Typing friendly!  Fingers, toes, legs & everything else crossed that I can find something sooooooon!

[small sobs]

I'm officially twenty five & not pretending anymore!

I decided to spend my twenty fifth birthday sipping cocktails with Miss Wall in Barcelona.

I thought it was a good idea.  I hate birthdays.  They just never live up to my expectations!  When I was a kid, birthdays were exciting & I felt really special on the day.  We always did something fun & I got LOADS of presents.  But now I'm no longer pre-pubescent, I no longer get bags of gifts, feel giddy with excitement or even feel remotely special on the big day.  So I have taken to spending it abroad, then I can ignore the fact that it's my birthday.  It's worked for the past seven years so, y'know.

This was my first birthday in Barcelona, but my third time in the city.  I love Barcelona.  It's like the perfect getaway.  It's got the bussle of the city with the relaxation factor of the beach.  Parfait!

Charlotte & I spent the first few days sunning ourselves on the beach.  It was incredibly hot & humid, but thankfully for once I managed to avoid burning!  I may not be blacker than liquorice now, but I am a pretty shade of mocha.  [sigh]

Evenings were spent dining out at fanciful restaurants around town, with every meal accompanied by cocktails & floral ice creams.  Turns out Barcelona is big on Mojitos!  On my actual birthday on Thursday, we decided to dine at my favourite restaurant Attic, on La Rambla, which has an amazing rooftop restaurant & bar.  They managed to fail with an over salty boiger but they redeemed themselves when they served up my pudding with a big fat candle in it.

Overall, I had a faboosh time & am now morose to be back to rainy England.  [sad face]  I am however, still in the process of receiving gifts & cards from friends (the benefit of being away for your birthday, you get to drag it out a bit), which is keeping me happy.  In fact tomorrow I am off to see Sir Fleming for lunch & to finally get my septum pierced!  Wish me luck!