Just a girl…

Writing this blog is sometimes a bit overwhelming.

It takes a while before you feel properly comfortable in reporting everything, warts and all.  I don’t think I am quite there yet.  I feel fine talking about the kids and my dating and the hum drum stuff that we all have in our lives but I struggle with anything very personal.

When I say personal, I mean my true feelings about things.  Our inner most thoughts and anxieties.  I would never be described as an anxious person, I am not anxious by nature, nor am I a worrier.  This does not mean that I do not worry, ever, just that I can manage it, I suppose.

I have insecurities and sometimes self-doubt but I have a hard exterior which will not generally allow me to show these emotions.

I would describe myself as a softmint.  I have a strong, acquired taste to my shell but once you get to know me, I am softer on the inside, probably more than some people expect.  I have very strong emotions, views and opinions and those close to me know who I am and what I am about but I don’t feel the need for everyone to know everything about me but here lies the problem because with this blog, sometimes, you can’t tell a story unless you share things you wouldn’t ordinarily share.

I find it hard to admit when I am feeling unsure, or anxious or just sad.  I see these things as weaknesses and I don’t want people to think that I am weak.   This I know is completely unreasonable.  There are times in everyone’s lives where we all feel a little bit off centre and we would be foolish to think that makes us weak in any way.  It only makes us human.

In any group of friends I have always been ‘the leader’ not in a bossy ‘it’s my way or the highway’ kind of way (I hope) but just in a naturally evolving, older child, strong-willed, let’s round everyone up, kind of way.   However, I was never the most responsible, I was always the one who ended up doing something crazy, or stupid and attention grabbing.  Not a lot has changed, I fear.

I come across as brave and like I have an I don’t give a damn attitude but of course that is not entirely true.  People only show others what they want them to see and on the flip side of that coin,  people only usually see what they want to see in others.  We humans make up our minds about people quite quickly, it apparently takes only one tenth of a second to form your first impression of someone.

Usually first impressions are made from seeing someone for the first time or seeing a picture of them.  However I expect that reading about someone also follows the same process.

As a blogger you leave yourself open to comment about you, your life and your opinions, if you decide to share them.  I am learning, slowly,  that this is OK.  I have to be able to accept that not everyone thinks the same way as me and so they will inevitably disagree with some of the things I say.

I would imagine that my readers have formed an impression about me and that is where it becomes difficult.  I am a people pleaser and I like to bring joy and laughter and fun in to people lives but I am also quite selfish and can be opinionated and I don’t always make the right decisions.  This leaves me open and subject to people making judgements about me.

I have to be comfortable in the knowledge that I like myself and I mean that not in an ‘Oh, aren’t I just bloody amazing’  kind of way but in a  ‘I’m good’  kind of way.   I am happy in the knowledge that I am a generally nice, honest, hard-working, decent person.  So then, if someone doesn’t agree with what I say or has an opinion about what I am doing I can feel reasonably sure that it is not personal.  It is just their opinion, to which, of course, they are entitled.

I am the same as any other girl.  I have issues and things that I struggle to deal with but over all I am OK with being me.  I can’t say that every day I don’t wish for something because I would be lying.  It might only be that the sun will shine or that I will see something that makes me smile but a wish is a wish no matter how big or small.

Some days I wish for big things, like a new car and some days, I wish for impossible things, like a conversation with my Dad and then there are the material things like clothes and holidays and lots of money, all the things we think will make our lives much more appealing, easier and more enjoyable.  We know that these are usually just wishes but we need to have them in our lives.

It is important to have hope and dreams and schemes and plans, it what keeps us all ticking over.  I think lots but relay nothing as my head is a jumble sale of ideas and notions and every time I try to put them to paper they make no sense.   I feel sometimes lost and small and insignificant but this I suspect is normal, as other times, I feel ten feet tall and like nothing can stop me from getting to where I need to be.

I want to be honest and be able to share my ups and downs with you all but with honesty sometimes comes a feeling of insecurity, a vulnerability that we don’t want others to see.  Appearing vulnerable can lead to you being taken advantage off but it can also lead to support and encouragement from others, which in turn will make you feel less vulnerable.

By showing your emotions, which is not something I am entirely used to, people can and will relate to you.  In theory at least.

Half the reason why I avoid anything remotely emotional is because I feel I don’t interpret it well.  I find it easy to laugh and joke about things and make them seem less important than they really are.  Like my dating debacles, it is easier to  make light of another ‘disaster’ than it is to admit that actually, you feel slightly devastated at it all going tits up again!

I am sometimes not entirely honest with myself but I suppose what I am trying to say is that I want to be.

I hope that I will get used to being more open as I go.  I love writing and I still very much enjoy being able to tell stories and share them with you.

However, the thing I love most of all, is that you read it.  Thank you 😘

 

 

 

 

#returnofthemack…

This post is born out of sheer bloody frustration.

I am not sure it will be a particularly long one but it will be a bit of a rant, just so you know.

I never planned to post tonight and had over the weekend pre-blogged some posts ready for this week but I have been rudely interrupted by Mack. Remember him?

I do.

I remember him because he was soooooooo frustrating. He was the kind of guy who made you want to gouge out your own eyeballs, not because he was horrible or because he was boring but just because he was down right irritating.

He LOL’d a lot. Remember?

I picked him up on it a lot but it was more than that. He was so non-committal. He messaged, but sporadically and always after a long and bloody annoying pause. It always felt like he was maintaining contact but was never really sure why, or even if, he wanted to have a conversation. In the end, I got bored and moved on.

This was quite some time ago now. Maybe two months or so, anyway he has long since been forgotten, until yesterday, when he decided to message me out of the blue. As you do, if you’re a bloke and you’re at a bit of a loose end!

Do you want the whole conversation? Or just snippets? If I do the whole conversation this will go on for a while? Here is the start of it at least…

Mack: Hello Trouble, Still online then? x

Me: Yes. Well you weren’t going to whisk me away from it all were you!

Mack: Well you didn’t want to talk anymore, which was disappointing to be honest!! x

Me: Oh fuck off! You just Lol’d at everything and took 24 hrs to reply to a message. Mr Straight Talker, be straight at least?

Straight Talker is his username, now that does need a LOL.

Mack: Not at all. Well I may lol a lot, you picked me up on that before! Lol But you went quiet after we met so guessed you either didn’t enjoy or didn’t like me, or both? Lol x

Me: Stop fucking LOLing. It is so bloody irritating. LOL I messaged you the same day! You were messing about. Taking 24 hours to reply to messages, who needs that shit. You want me or you don’t? Just bloody say so. It’s no big deal but I’m not going to hang around waiting for you to decide.

Mack: I told you before I left I wanted to see you again! I didn’t know your thoughts though, didn’t want to hassle you if you weren’t interested. x

Me: Oh God. You are infuriating. I don’t recall you saying anything of the sort and five message over a whole weekend is hardly what you would call hassle?

Mack: Ah! See. You don’t recall or don’t remember? I definitely said it. Actually I think I said it twice, you just obviously didn’t listen, typical woman! 😉

Oh. you think. You think I am a typical woman?

Me: Well, perhaps you should have reiterated that in one of the five messages. It is easy when you are straight and just say what you think. I am far from a typical woman. I won’t take any of your nonsense for a start.

Mack: Back to being my fault then? Go on then say it as it is, what were you thinking that evening after? x

The messages get longer at this point but no less frustrating.

I am caught between my reasonable self and my completely fucking bat shit crazy self, who, not unreasonably, I don’t think, wants to punch him in the face for being a complete bloody idiot.

I won’t bore you with the rest of the messages but suffice to say we were at stalemate, with him suggesting that I ignored his last messages, which in fairness I did because they didn’t really say anything. All over that whole weekend he didn’t really say anything about anything. He was being cagey and not committing to a thing.

I know, that is just how guys are because they can’t possibly be honest and straight and just say : actually I like you. In case we say, well, actually I don’t like you. I mean heaven forbid.

Do you know the funniest thing, is that men say women are complicated. I am not complicated. I am about as far from complicated as anyone could be. I just wanted a no strings attached bloke, to date and have sex with, he would have been perfect for that had we have had any further dates and got on. He is single and about 40, if I remember correctly, never been married and no kids. What was the problem?

The problem it is safe to say, is that someone else took his fancy and that is fine but at least have the bloody balls to say so!

He is obviously a commitment phobe and so am I to some extent but I don’t want him to move in, I just want to have a good time with someone whose company I enjoy for however long that lasts but he didn’t give me the chance to say any of that.

We both ended up agreeing that the actual date itself could have gone better and there was a lot of pressure on both sides to go through with the ‘pre planned naughty sex scene’. I still maintain that he was more nervous than he thought he would be and afterwards it was awkward, despite us not actually having full sex. It could have gone better and I think we were both a bit unsure as to whether we would be able to meet again but you have to talk or not talk, you can not just be half-hearted about it.

If you think it will be too awkward then leave it, if you think you would quite like to do it again then say, don’t just leave it somewhere in limbo land while you pluck up the courage to admit that maybe it could have gone better.

Just say, actually shall we try that again but with no pressure? Just bloody get it out there man! However, he chose limbo land.

So, sorry Mack but you snooze you lose.

PS. Apologies if this is badly written, spelt and incoherent. I blame my inner rage.

The three amigos…

I have had a lovely weekend and it’s not over yet.

Friday night, out with the buddies was an absolute delight.  In an odd twist of fate our lives are completely entwined.  That may sound a bit dramatic but for my part at least, I feel like my life is better for having them in it.

We are very similar people, our personalities are slightly different but our demographics are very much the same, apart from me being the single one.

I have said this before but I love those girls like they are my sisters.  I am fiercely protective of them and our relationship.

I sometimes have to stop myself from interfering with them at weekends, as they, like me have children and family stuff to do, including husbands.  This can be hard as they are involved in my life in every way.

For example, they edit this blog but they not only edit it, they advise when I am unsure of a subject or I am unsure of how much detail to put in it. (sorry, one of the editing buddies here – note, our advice is not always adhered to!).  They are also heavily involved in my online dating debacle and are incredibly supportive as I lurch from one disaster to another.  They listen, they encourage and they make me laugh until my cheeks hurt.  I hope that I do the same for them.

We message a lot outside of work, mostly silly, ranting texts, stacked full of profanities, usually about life, work or my dating, anything really but sometimes I have to try not to text them, especially at weekends because I feel that they deserve a break from me.  They would never say this of course and I know that they are always there if I need them and so are a lot of my other friends but I just think they should have some time without me.  I can be quite draining, in a nice way obviously!

Friday night was brilliant.  It was just nice to have more than a 20 minute coffee break at work to chat.  We covered everything from the constant mini dramas at work to what we were like when we used to go out clubbing, the first time around.  It seems one of us was a bit of a brawler.  The one you would least expect too.

It is funny how you think you know people but really you have only just scratched the surface.

We are primarily work colleagues and so we don’t really delve in to our pasts and if we do it is fleeting and just to tell a particular story that might be relevant to the topic we are discussing at the time.  We don’t know about each other’s childhoods in the way you do your very old friends, the ones you grew up with.  Yet we have a bond that I am pretty confident will always be there.

I bloody hope so anyway.

It was a fab night, we talked and laughed and marvelled at the people of the town all out for a good time.  There is something incredibly enjoyable about ‘people watching’ and in one pub in particular there was plenty to watch.  We came to the conclusion it was a work doo and we all know what they say about work doos.

This was an eclectic group of people to say the least, varying in age and status, I would say but they were all very, very comfortable with each other.  There was a lot of lap sitting and fondling going on and it was all a little bit odd.  One girl in particular who was quite drunk seemed to be getting round the variety of laps quite quickly.   Some of the girls were young and some of the men quite old and most of them seemed to be wearing wedding bands.

Should I be in any way surprised about this?  Probably not.  I myself am having a fair few tussles with a variety of married people who are in the online dating game.  To be married these days seems not to mean an awful lot to some.  However, it did make us cringe to watch.  In that car crash TV kind of way.  Entertaining and a great talking point but a bit unnerving at the same time.

As we walked in to one particular pub in town, which is always busy, the buddies excitedly exclaimed that;  we might find you a man in here, babes!    OhYou think?

The barman was very nice but he was only in his late twenties if he was a day.  What is wrong with me?  Why do I only like the look of men half my age?  There has to be a reason for this, does there?  I need some bloody therapy or something.

This is getting really quite serious now.  Not only do I fancy anyone under the age of 40 and I’m being liberal there, it’s actually probably more like 35 and under.  I do think that if I continue with this online dating thing I really will need some therapy soon.  I am thinking quite seriously about taking a break from it all but obviously I can’t make any decisions about that, until I have consulted the buddies.

Before I finish, I should probably mention that L has stopped messaging.  Are we surprised by this?  Are we bollocks.

It was, as always, inevitable that he would get his kicks and move on to the next thrill.  I can’t say I haven’t enjoyed it because I have.  For as long as it lasted it was a surreal fantasy world and I have had a massive grin on my face all week.  It is hard to switch off from it but you have to for your own sanity.  So I have moved on.  The end.

Now, I’m off to my Mum’s for Sunday lunch and if that doesn’t make everything right with the world, then quite frankly nothing will.

Have a lovely Sunday.   🙂

Roll on…

It’s Thursday.

I’m not sure why I always feel the need to tell you what day of the week it is, I am sure you are perfectly aware of where we are in time, it just seems an easy way to start I suppose.

As a rule I like Thursdays.  Thursday means that tomorrow is Friday and I just love that Friday feeling.  I am loving it even more this week as I am going ‘out out’ with the Buddies tomorrow night.  I also thought I had a date Saturday (it was only penciled in as you know) but that has already been rescheduled, to Tuesday now.  Tuesday!  Who ever does anything on a Tuesday?

Anyway more about that later on, maybe.

I am very much looking forward to an evening out with the buddies tomorrow, it has been a long week and we have definitely earned it.  A new computer system at work has thrown everyone in to chaos.  We are women of a certain age, we can’t cope with new and improved, we only like old and reliable so there has been much moaning and groaning, while we all try to figure out how this all works.

As for the Doctors, well, it’s like trying to teach a dog new tricks, it takes a hell of a lot of patience and mollycoddling.  These people are super intelligent but they severely lack in anything remotely close to common bloody sense.  They do not think for themselves and why would they, they can use us for thinking.

It has been ‘options’ week for Elsie too, so my brain cells are few and far between at the moment.  I am suffering from what is commonly known as information overload.  Tonight we have been to the school, I am fried.  Elsie is none the bloody wiser and quite frankly neither am I.  She is still, of course, set on taking Dance but you have to choose one subject from each column and the columns don’t match the subjects she wants to take and this is causing much distress.

I’m not sure who is more stressed about this me, or Elsie because try as I might to reason with her, we can not seem to communicate over this matter, as it seems ‘I do not understand’.

What it is I don’t understand, I don’t know?   It seems quite simple to me, pick a subject, any subject, one from each column, one of those subjects must be a highlighted subject, ie: in blue, otherwise you can pretty much choose what you like?  What is there not to understand?

It is a tough decision, I get that.  I also understand that it is important for them to choose subjects that they will enjoy and hopefully do well in but there is a reason that all the creative subjects are not in the same column and that is to try to ensure that you learn something other than prancing, sewing and trampolining.

We still have a week before the forms have to be submitted but first, I am having the weekend off.

In other slightly more infuriating news I have had a prang in my car.  I could have done without that to be fair.

My car is old, almost as old as me, well not quite but it’s old.  However, I can’t really afford a new one, so this car will have to last me until I either win the lottery or I die, whatever comes first.  Me dying probably.

A car is a bloody luxury in itself, never mind a new car.  My car has done me proud and although it is slightly beaten around the edges it has never let me down.  I like my car.  I drive it like a rally car and I don’t particularly look after it but it is still reliable and sturdy and mine.

So I was very pissed off when leaving work on Monday, I managed to end up stuck to the bumper of someone else’s car.

To cut a long story short the car in front of me, a huge 4×4 thing, was waiting to turn left out of the junction, as was I.  As she moved off I checked right to make sure it was still clear and moved off after her, when she promptly stopped dead in front of me before I had the chance to even straighten up.

Turning the air blue with a few shocking profanities, I parked and braced myself for an irate driver.  She was fine and very apologetic.  Some silly sod had walked out in front of her.  So while she and I debated any damage that may have been caused by his complete lack of bloody road sense, he ambles merrily off on his journey.   Stupid old goat.  I wouldn’t mind but there is a bloody crossing about 30 yards up the road.  Personally, I think I would have run him over.   Well, OK, I probably wouldn’t have but I was really quite annoyed.

I thought we had both got off unscathed until the following morning when Elsie tried to get in the car and the passenger door wouldn’t bloody open.  FFS!  On a two door car this is really quite irritating.

Now I am going to have to sell my soul to the bloody devil to pay for the sodding thing to be fixed.  Luckily the very, very nice man at the garage said he will ‘make it good‘ for me.  Bless him, I don’t think he wanted to say out loud that the cost of fixing it properly would far out way the value of the car but I must have a car and so it has got to be done.

In the meantime we are struggling on with it until they can fit me in for the repair.  Much to Elsie’s embarrassment.

It will certainly be entertaining tomorrow though when I am trying to get the buddies in it after they’ve had a few sherberts, as I am designated driver for the evening.  There will be some wee escaping I can guarantee that much.

Ending on a high, Tom finally managed to get his bloody hair cut without anything disastrous happening.  We tried again with the whole, go to school, leave school, go straight to the hairdressers, do not pass go, get haircut, come to the surgery, meet mum with lovely new hair doo, go home.

I warned him this morning that he will not have experienced a wrath like mine if he turns up at the surgery with no hair cut and no money, again.

It worked.  It bloody worked.

Devil in disguise…

I want to introduce you to L, 49 from Surrey.

He is the devil in disguise.  Actually he is just the devil, he doesn’t even make an attempt to disguise it.  I like him, well that’s to say, I like things about him.  I don’t know him.  We haven’t met, yet, we might not even, who knows.

We just talk.

I’m not entirely sure I want to meet him.  He may well prove to be too much for me to handle, he scares me just a little bit, in that he is over familiar, in a sexy, slightly unnerving way.

We have those dangerous conversations, you know the ones that get you hot under the collar.  They are erotic conversations, stimulating and sensual.

He makes my insides churn and my mind spin, with erotic thoughts and images.  He turns me on with just a few words.  How?  I don’t know but it should be bloody bottled and sold.

He calls mehis girl’ he says that he is ‘my boy’ and tells me that I can do whatever I want with him.  He says he is going to please me and buy me lots of nice things and make me feel pretty and girlie (a tough job that, as I am far from girly).

He is a complete fantasy but Oh My God he is AMAZING with words!

I am completely hooked.  He sets the scene and we are the actors, he tells me how it is going to play out.  It is a story.  Short and very sweet.

“A sexy picnic with strawberries and fizz.  I am wearing a dress with no panties.  He is feeding me strawberries and stroking my thigh, touching my hair and my face. We are laughing and flirting.  He gives me a champagne kiss and the fizz dribbles down my chin I can feel it trickling over my skin.  He follows the trail with his finger. I am hot, hotter now, he moves my dress and puts his knee between my legs pushing them apart…”

Jesus.  I’m hot now!

I won’t write anymore because it’s not really what this blog is about but at the same time I want to tell you all of it.  I want to tell you the things he said he was going to do but even if I did I’m not sure I could describe the way he said it.  I can’t tell it the way he does.  I read it differently to how I, in turn, interpret it.  Reading his words seems somehow sexier than writing it myself.  He doesn’t use nearly as many words as me yet he has much more impact.

The buddies and I have discussed this at length.  They are not convinced that he won’t be a ‘ghoster’ or that he isn’t married and looking for thrills etc. and to be fair neither am I.

I do not know him or anything about him.  I don’t know anything about any of the people I talk to online and there lies the danger.  You are taking someone at face value.  You can’t do it any other way.

I am not an irrational person, at least not all the time and I know how these things play out.  I have had experience of all the different scenarios now.  I expect nothing.  I do though still want to try to enjoy this experience a little bit and with all the highs and lows that come with online dating, L, for now at least,  is a definite high.

L is one of the very few people I have contacted first.  There are not many profiles that catch my eye and even fewer that actually propel me to make contact.  I may look a few times and wait but I don’t generally message first, I am far too indecisive.

I am very much an instinctive person.  I tell myself that if I haven’t just done whatever it is I have been pondering over almost immediately, all the procrastinating means that I should probably say NO.  If I have to talk myself in or out of something then I’m not really that keen am I?

I looked at L’s profile and immediately wanted to talk to him.  So I did.  It is now that I am trying to decide if that was a good decision, or not.  My message was simple.  “I like the look of you.”  I don’t know if that is a good opener or not?  I have never done it apart from with Christian, remember him, way back in the early days, since then I have not felt propelled to message anyone.

Things with Christian never managed to get past us talking about meeting for a dirty martini, so maybe I shouldn’t rely so much on my instincts, they do seem to be heavily influenced by my libido.  I wonder if I have some male genes?  *thoughtful face

He replied with “I like the look of you too, lovely Jo”, we messaged all afternoon.  I had found my new favourite waste of time.

The next morning he sent me;

 “How’s my girl?  Your boy got Tipsy last night. Were you a good girl for me?”

I should have felt weird about that but I didn’t.  I felt even less weird when he said a bit later…

“I want you, you have turned my fussy head.  We will go to a nice bar.  French kiss.  Wear crotchless panties, you will feel good.”

Ok, will do boss!

I love how he tells me what to do. Even if it is only fiction.  He has made it clear that he wants to own me and if anyone had told me that I would find that idea appealing in any way before now, I would have laughed in their face but for some strange reason I do.

One thing I have realised since L and I started messaging is that I haven’t given M a second thought.

M has messaged sporadically and I have messaged sporadically back but I have lost interest in him not because of the GF and not because it will only be sex but because someone else has my attention.

I always knew that M wasn’t going to turn out or into much if I’m honest but I was happy to be in it for the sex.  However, now I am distracted again.  How long for is anyone’s guess.  I get bored easily, what can I say.

L may or may not turn out to be anyone of interest, who knows but what I do know is that for now he amuses me, in a slightly twisted kind of way.  We may or may not meet and I’m not sure if I am particularly bothered about that either to be honest.

Currently as it stands now we are penciled in for Saturday but the thing with pencil is that it can be easily erased.

 

 

 

 

 

My reflection…

Do you know what struck me this weekend?

A very odd feeling of loneliness.  I realised this weekend that Tom and Elsie are starting to have lives of their own and they don’t generally include me, well not unless you count the ferrying them around bit.

Elsie has been at her friends all weekend and Tom had arranged to meet some of his friends in town on Saturday so that left me home alone, unexpectedly, to be honest.

The next thing that struck me was that for all my harping on about a casual relationship, there is casual and then, there is casual.  I mean truth be told I don’t have a relationship at the moment but say for example I do go into this thing with M, who it turns out does have a GF but hey, we knew that really.  Didn’t we?  It will be too casual.  Will it?

Take Saturday for example, there I was, home alone.  The weather was shit and although I cracked on around the house, not something I am overly keen on doing at weekends to be honest.  I thought wouldn’t it be nice to have someone you could just call and meet,  for lunch or for something, not sex but something outside of sex.  Well ok, sex as well but lunch first.

This is where I suppose you think about the future and not the now.  In the now I am more than happy to have my weekly sex sessions with M, if that is how it turns out but in the future is this going to be enough?  Probably not, if I am already questioning it.

M and I are still texting, he wants to meet next week and I, at first, was quite happy with that.  However, it will be daytime again and now we know why.  This is not an issue for me as daytime suits me.  I don’t have to worry about the kids and I can usually spring a day off work.  Generally speaking I can swap my days around to suit providing everything is covered.   So daytime is usually a great time to arrange a date.

However, on reflection, I am not convinced that this arrangement will suit me for long.  I want to be able to meet the guy I am seeing, when I want to and not just when he wants to.  I want to be able to go out and have fun too.  Sometimes I might even want to spend a whole weekend with him,  not often granted but that is clearly not going to be possible with M.

I am obviously still actively looking for someone who fits that particularly tall order, it just isn’t proving to be a very fruitful search at present.

I am not adverse to the idea of M still.  After all it is just sex and I want it and he wants it, so I am still thinking about it, despite the GF.  Morally, well I’m not addressing that at present.  Sorry!

Yesterday I did spend some time online as I was at a loose end and despite my best efforts, messages from most of the men I struck up conversations with led to talk about sex of some kind.  Whether that be innuendo based or just blatant ‘do you want it’ chat.

I still get lots of messages from thirty something blokes looking to idle away their free time sexting.  They all seem to love the ‘older woman’ and they all give you different reasons as to why.   Most of them are rubbish.  I  am pretty sure that I am not alone in their attention, as they seem not to be too fussy and are very happy to move on when told to do so.    I am not entirely comfortable being the ‘older woman’ as I do not consider myself to be particularly old.  I certainly don’t want to be a cougar or whatever the new term for it is these days.

At first I thought it was fairly flattering. After all, I’m no spring chicken and to have a message from someone fit and ten years younger than you, must mean you are quite attractive, right?  Perhaps it does?  However, it feels shallow and although I am happy to indulge in a little light relief every now and then , if and when I find someone I like,  I won’t be made to feel grateful for the attentions of  some young thing who thinks he’s God’s gift to mankind.

This is a level playing field, you want to play the game feel free but we are neither of us doing the other one a favour.

Flirting is fun.  We all love that feeling you get when someone is paying you attention.  It lifts your mood and makes you smile.  Harmless flirtation is what we all do, often, in our everyday lives, sometimes without even realising it.

There is nothing wrong with that but these days it seems everyone thinks they are Christian Grey.  Jesus!  That woman has a lot to answer for.

The question on everyone’s lips these days is not;  ‘Where did you go on your holidays?’, or ‘Whats your favourite band?’   It is;  ‘Are you submissive or dominant?’  and  ‘Will you let me be your master?’

This is one of the many conversations I had;

Oh and I am going to call him TOY for short as his user name is too long and Stars Wars related, that alone should have rung alarms bells.  TOY is 44 and from Sussex.

TOY:  Hi, how’s your weekend going? Why are you so far away?

Me:    Hi, Good thanks. Yours?  Well I suppose it’s to see how far you are willing to travel?

TOY:  I’d happily travel to you but would you travel to me? 😉 x

Me:    Haha. Well I don’t think you are that far to be fair… so yes, if I liked you enough                   then I would. 🙂

TOY:  Well that’s a good start. Lol  So what are you looking for on here? x

Me:    The impossible it seems.  A nice guy, who is good company, likes going out, staying              in, makes good coffee, eats cake, is intelligent and confident and likes sex.  Can’t                  find one anywhere!

TOY:  I’m up for all that, especially the sex bit… but are you open-minded? 😉 x

Oh, here we go? One mention of the S word and there they go, off into the realms of kinky fuckery.

Me:   Be more specific?  (going to give him the benefit of the doubt)

Toy:  Heels?  Stockings?  Suspenders?

Really, doesn’t everyone do that?

Me:   OK, well for sure, if it gets that far.

TOY:  Do you have heeled boots?  What about spanking?  Face Sitting?  Pain?

Me:   Oh!  How have we moved on so quickly, we only just said Hi?                                                    Well, I don’t mind a bit of  Role play, dressing up some light bondage.  Nothing too              in your face!!   Pardon the pun.

My fantastic sense of humour is lost at this point as his brain has gone on a one way journey to Smuttsville.

TOY:   Are you submissive or dominant, I like to mix it up.  Do you have heeled boots?

Me:     No. I don’t have heeled boots, well not that variety anyway.   I do have a very nice              shoe collection though.

I’m assuming he means the thigh high, spiky kind in black pvc? 

TOY:   Are you submissive or dominant?  What other kinky things do you like doing?

Me:     Look, I’m not even sure I want to meet you yet?  Or ever!  So I think I will save my              sexual preferences for if and when I do decide, if that’s ok with you?

TOY:  Yes, I understand that.  We do need to get to know each other first… would you                    still like to?

At this point, needing a break and a large slug of vodka, I have logged off.  I can take no more.  I am opting out of this conversation.

It’s draining all this pie in the sky stuff.  If I thought for one second there was a remote possibility that we would meet, connect and then decide to see what happens, I am more than happy to have the ‘what do you like in the bedroom’ chat but lets not get a head of ourselves and lets not fool ourselves into thinking that this is going to be anything like the scenes from ‘the movie’.

I am all for exploring options but can’t we do that once we have decided if we might actually like each other.  I mean if it turns out that you don’t want to take me for a coffee until you know whether or not I’m going to sit on your face afterwards, then lets just not bother.

You see the funny thing with me is.  I will do an awful lot for someone I like and even more for someone I love.  There are things that I have done with some partners that I haven’t done with others and it is because either they or I were uncomfortable with it at the time.   I am open to trying new things and hopefully continuing to do all the things I already know I enjoy but with the right person.

I have had some seriously sexy conversations with some men.  It is an art form in a way but a conversation is no replacement for reality.  In reality these things are never the same as played out in your mind.  Your mind is a powerful tool the imagery it can produce is an aphrodisiac in itself.

When it is done well the words unfold in your mind, you make them as erotic as you want them to be, it is sensual and exciting and it can turn you on.  It can be extremely erotic.

What is not erotic is someone just bowling into a 3 second coversation. ‘Will you sit on my face?’   No.  I won’t, but I might slap it if you’re not bloody careful!

 

Drumroll please…

I have an announcement to make.

No.  It isn’t that I got a text from K, to say he had a lovely time on our date and he would absolutely, definitely love to see me again.  I’m afraid that didn’t happen.  Despite me texting him and asking if he wanted to see me again, in a non pushy, just generally nice kind of way, which I have to say, is a first for me.  I haven’t heard a thing.  Except deadly silence.

However, I have had sex.  Today and good sex, at that.  Full sex with extras and very bloody nice it was too!   I apologise if that is a little bit too much information and I’m sure for some it will be, if so, you may not want to go any further into this particular blog.

You see the thing about writing about your life and it’s ups and downs, is that it is kind of warts and all.  It is hard to decide how much information you should share with people and what you should keep private.  If you don’t share the things that happen then it is harder to bring them in at a later date if you need to, as you would have to explain it all right from the beginning anyway.

I don’t feel the need to tell you absolutely everything about what happened, after all this isn’t supposed to be erotic fiction but I do need to tell you some of it, don’t I?

So today I met M.  After a week or so of fairly frivolous texting and him cancelling our original meet , which was supposed to be Tuesday, we met today.  I was in two minds about whether this would actually happen and had been trying not to get too excited, as that is a definite no-no in these situations but I found myself once again, really hoping that he would.

There has been much discussion about this subject at work this week and opinions are very mixed, to say the least.   It is still slightly frowned upon by some that people, women in particular, should be so open about wanting to have sex.  Why?  I don’t know.

I am a grown woman, granted I can forget that sometimes but overall I know where my head is and I know when I am happy or not in a situation.  I like to think that I am old enough to know the difference between good and bad, right and wrong etc etc but I still would like to have sex, please.

I for one haven’t always been very confident in the bedroom department, especially when I was in my twenties but over the years my confidence has come with age.  I am happier now than I ever have been, yes there are things that I find difficult to deal with and stressful but overall I am content with my lot and comfortable in my own skin.

I have had a lot of sex in my lifetime, with a lot of partners.  I know this sounds very loose and perhaps it is but this was in no way intentional, it just happened that way.  My relationships have never made it past the 7 year itch and most never made it past 7 months, never mind 7 years. However, the plus side of this, if there is one, is that I know what I like and I’m not afraid to keep looking for it.  Neither am I going to say no, when it does come along, even if it is only temporary.

This does not mean that I am not fussy.  I am incredibly fussy.  I know what I want and I won’t settle.  Not anymore.

I do not want to feel guilty for having sex with someone who I may or may not see again.  If it turns out to be a one time only thing then I am fine with that.  It is consenual sex, mutually agreed by both parties and therefore not illegal, shameful or disrespectful in any way.

I wanted to have sex with M and I wanted to do it today, I had pretty much made up my mind that if I liked him (in the flesh) and of course he was up for it, then we would indeed, do the deed.

I did like him and it was obvious he liked me.  I think we both knew that we would like each other.  We talked for a bit and it was comfortable but charged, there was expectation on both sides and it wasn’t long before he made a move, it was as easy as that.

The whole thing, from start to finish, was very pleasureable.  It was not awkward or pressured or uncomfortable, just easy, relaxed and fun… and quite hot, actually!

Well, apart from one, Oh shit! moment, when way too far into the proceedings, I suddenly thought about protection.   I know!

A vision of the roasting I would get from the buddies about ‘unsafe’ sex had me losing my mojo quite quickly.  I put us both off our stroke a bit when I shouted quite loudly, ‘Oh fuck, wait, we need to stop’, while practically shoving him in to next week.  Luckily he was not at all put off and after a few minor adjustments carried on from where he left off.

It was all that bloody kissing, it just makes you lose yourself.  He was very tactile not something that I am usually okay with, as I’m more of a fast and furious type but I liked it.  He was considerate and confident and very, very pleasing.  After, we talked for ages, well he talked for ages, Jesus but he can waffle.  I thought I talked a lot but I’m not a patch on him, we had tea and toast in bed and we chatted and laughed, a lot and then had some more sex.

I mean really, what is not to love about that?

I am smiling now as I think about it.  I am satisfied in that, cat that got the cream kind of way and now, whatever will be will be.  He said he would like to see me again but lets not forget the GF.  I’m still pretty certain there is one.  However, it was not discussed today.  Will it be?  Maybe, if anything more happens, who knows?

We have text since and both agreed that we had a really good time.  I’m not pushing anything, if it happens, it happens and if it doesn’t then that is fine too.

For now I’m happy.  A very satisfied happy and looking forward to a bloody good nights sleep, in a bed full of toast crumbs probably but I don’t care.  🙂

 

 

 

Where are we…

I have lost my train a little bit.

Last week was so busy I can’t quite remember, where we are or what we’re up to.

January at work is the worst month of the year, without question and once you to get to this point in particular, everyone has well and truly forgotten all the Happy New Year bollocks and have returned to just being their usual horrible selves.

It has been a truly manic week in more ways than one.

The NHS is in the news again.  It happens every year about this time.  Tales about how the hospitals are not coping and people will have to wait months to be seen.  The ambulance service is stretched to breaking point and NHS staff everywhere are overworked and barely coping.

We called an ambulance for a patient today.  It was  a blue light response and by time I had been to the toilet and back the ambulance was parked outside and the crew were attending to the patient.  Not a terribly bad service I feel.

The pressure on the NHS in all departments is huge.  The demand has risen, our population has grown massively over the last few years and we all expect a lot more than is sometimes reasonable these days but I am a staunch defender of it and the people who work in it.

I am overly protective of it, to the point where I will argue for days if necessary about the benefits of it.

I have in the past had my disappointments in its services, particularly when my Dad’s cancer was misdiagnosed and the fight we had for treatment when really, it was too late by then.  I have also seen this happen since to friends and to patients.  It is heartbreaking and I wouldn’t wish it on anyone but even though these horrible things can and do happen, I cannot be ungrateful for our NHS and what it stands for.

I know there are improvements that could be made almost everywhere and that funding and staffing and so many other things are an issue but when it works and we have all hopefully seen it work in some way or another it is amazing.

I really love my job.  It is not in the grand scheme of things very glamorous nor is it high-powered, you do not need a degree in anything other than being a generally nice person, although it does help if you have the patience of a saint but otherwise most people could do it.  I always thought working in a GP surgery would be a piece of cake.  I mean how hard can be to make a few appointments a day?  Oh, how wrong can you be?

Child wise, this last few days have been up and down.  Tom is still lurching from one detention to another.  I have just picked him up from another after school detention for not attending a lunchtime one (he had written the wrong date in his planner) and I am not at all surprised by this.  I think I will now only be surprised if we manage a whole week without one.

The school inform me that he will eventually work out how to avoid getting detentions.  I just silently laughed.

Elsie  is about to decide on her options, we have parents evening Thursday and an options evening next week.  I love parents evening, not.  It is a free for all.  Toms was a chaotic nightmare of not getting to the right teacher in the allocated 5 minute window and when you did it seemed every other parent had arrived with the same 5 minute window. It’s a farce.

Trying to talk to Elsie about options is hard going.  She doesn’t really know what she wants to do when she leaves school, which doesn’t help but does know that she wants to take dance.  Marvellous.  Will you be interested in taking any other subject, like a language or History, maybe?  No, just dance then.  Oh and Drama, of course, mustn’t forget drama.  She will definitely get an A in that.

Today (it is now Tuesday) has been a good day.  I met a normal man today for lunch.  It went well.  I liked him, I think he liked me.  Is this a true story?

Yes it actually is.

The last few days in the dating world have been a bit fast and furious.  I was talking to D 42, whose profile it has to be said was a bit vague.  We exchanged numbers quite quickly and he then proceeded to get on my nerves quite quickly too.

We exchanged numbers on Thursday, I think, I can’t be sure as it’s all a bit of blur now and by Saturday he practically had us down the aisle.  He had bombarded me with photos, all very clean but all very much the same.  D, in a t-shirt and cap, D, in a jumper and beanie, D, in his cycling gear, D, with kids in a cap and well just D and lots of them.  I have more photos of D on my phone than I do of myself.

He was calling me babe and sweetheart and telling me how wonderful I was and how he knew it was fate that had brought us together, that he had a gut feeling we were going to, ‘just gel’.

The final straw was when he asked if I had told my friends about him?  We hadn’t even laid eyes on each other at this point and weren’t even scheduled to meet until this coming Friday.  What am I supposed to have told them? A date for the wedding?  It was becoming quite clear I was not going to make it.

Yesterday I decided I just couldn’t do it.

He had well and truly put me off.  I know he was trying to be nice, in a strange kind of over familiar way but I struggle with all that.  I am not an overly emotional person and not overly affectionate either.  I don’t do babes and darling and oh, you’re so wonderful, it just feels fake to me.

I don’t feel like I have to tell someone I love them and adore them every five minutes for that to be true.  If I love you, you will know I love you but I wont be blowing smoke up your arse every five minutes.

I often jokingly use terms of endearment and mostly use them sarcastically.  I call one of my buddies babes, it is just a silly thing we do.  I don’t generally use them often and certainly not with someone I hardly know and am even less sure I actually like.

So yesterday I told D, nicely, that I had decided to  follow-up on a second date with someone and that I felt that it was only fair to let him know.  He was in all fairness absolutely fine and I wasn’t sure he would be actually.   So kudos to you D, for taking it on the chin.

I don’t have a second date with anyone though, I feel I should just get that in before everyone gets all excited.  No such luck.  Still very much in first date hell.

At the same time as I started talking to D, I started talking to M, 47 from Kent.  I like M from Kent and the reason I like M from Kent is because I know he will be absolutely no good for me.

I think he has a GF but I’m not sure.  He has been married and divorced and has a daughter and he is very, very nice looking and funny and quite bloody sexy actually but there is that little bit of me that suspects he is not as single as I would like him to be.  We are still talking and he wants to meet Friday.  We were supposed to meet today but he cancelled.  I have warned him, he gets three strikes and it’s game over.

We have spoken on the phone and I like him but do I trust him?  Not entirely, no.   Will I meet him?  Yes probably, because I’m a bloody fool.  Well if he doesn’t cancel again!

Still, with M cancelling today it gave me the chance to meet K, 45 also from Kent.

This all came about very quickly.

We messaged a couple of times last week, nothing major.  A few messages back and forth Thursday and Friday, he said he liked the look of me and was I as nice in the flesh?  I said only one way to find out, take me on a date?  To which he said, ok I will.  I left it there.

Yesterday he messaged and asked if I wanted to meet today and seeing as M had just blown me out, I thought why the hell not.  He asked if he could phone me first for a chat and this is where it all started going wrong in my head.

He had an accent and not a very nice one.  I don’t wish to offend anyone when I say he was Northern and us Southerners, well,  we struggle with accents.  I wasn’t keen.

I will apologise now to all my repping friends, who are from all over the country and have a variety of weird and wonderful accents and I know to them that I am the one who has an accent.  My Scottish pal, Ruth insists on saying, ‘Cor blimey guv’nor’ every time she speaks to me on the phone.  This she thinks is hilarious and it is in a funny sort of way because obviously I am quite posh! 😉

I was though struggling a bit with the whole accent thing and rightly or wrongly had assumed a not very pleasant picture of this poor guy in my head but we had now agreed to meet and I didn’t really have time to change my mind, which is just as well as I think I would have done.

It was actually the buddies who insisted on me going and actually frogmarched me out the building at the designated meeting time.  I really did not want to go.  My head had made up all these things, he wasn’t going to be anything like his picture.  He was going to smell??  He was going to have black teeth and a limp?? Where all this was coming from I have no idea?

I was wrong.

Can you believe it?  I was wrong.  I was very pleasantly surprised, he was nice looking, funny and easy-going.  He seemed to have his shit together and although divorced with a young son, all was well with him.  We chatted easily and we laughed a lot.  I liked him.  I won’t say I fancied the pants off him and I wasn’t sure I wanted to kiss him but it is early days.  Is it?

Accent?  What accent?

Dare I say that I hope to see him again.  Oh my God.  Did I actually just say that? I actually want to have a second date.   #neverthoughtitwouldhappen

Of course you know what will happen now don’t you?  I like him, so he is bound to be the one who doesn’t like me.

Irony at it most beautiful best.

 

 

 

 

 

Resisting the urge…

It is going to be a long week.

I feel like it should be Friday and it should most definitely be a Vodka night but I am resisting the urge, or trying.

As I write I have a glass of Tonic, yes just Tonic.  I am trying really hard not to put Vodka in it but I can feel my resistance wearing thin.

It has been a crazy week at work, it is like the marie celeste at the moment, the ship is still afloat, just but there is no sign of any crew anywhere.  It is still really busy and has been since we came back after the New Year.  I don’t honestly know where all the staff have gone, we just don’t seem to have any at the moment.

It has been a hard slog to get even to the middle of the week.

I still have the tail end of my cold but now the river has dried up. The snot is stuck now in the nether regions of my nose and won’t go up or down, it just stays stuck somewhere behind my eyes, blurring my vision, which is always handy when you have to look at a computer screen for 7 hours a day.

I feel like I have earned a Vodka, just for today alone but I can’t have one.  I can’t have one because I have got a cold and it will probably just knock me clean out but probably not before I have agreed to do something stupid with someone I barely know.  I must resist.

Tom is starting the New Year as he means to go on, with an after school detention tomorrow, here we go again.  You see why I am going to embrace the holidays now?  Roll on half term, when I can chain him in the back yard.  He thinks he knows what it is for but he isn’t quite sure and to be fair from what he was telling me earlier it could be any one of a number of reasons, so I will try not to be surprised if he gets a few more in the coming weeks.  Only 4 weeks to go!

Elsie’s turn for Food Tech this term.  Chicken curry tomorrow… she informs me tonight at 6.40 pm when I have just come home from work and passed by Tesco and Waitrose.

I’m still resisting.  Just.

The dating (or lack there of) is wearing a bit thin now too.  I am really, really trying to resist the urge to tell quite a few people to F*** off back into the dark, dingy hole from where they came.

Yet another reason why I can’t have any Vodka.

I tell you something, online dating does absolutely nothing to restore your faith in humans never mind men.  Last night when I checked my messages I had 9 new ones, 4 of those were married/in a relationship.

One of which said;

Hi, I’m married and looking to stay that way but I would love to have some sexy fun with you? Message me … (with a little winky face). 

Wanker.  I’m not quite sure what he was expecting me to say, probably something along the lines of;

Oh yes please. I would be so very grateful if you could use me for sex, you know the kind your wife won’t give you and then tootle of back to her in time for dinner and to put the kids to bed. You really are too kind.

Hold on a moment while I think some more about it.

No.  Thanks all the same.  I prefer my men with proper balls, the kind you get from being a big boy and behaving like a real man.

Do you think your wife will be grateful to you for sticking by her, while offering yourself out to woman on a dating site?  Do you think that she will be pleased that you slept with her and with others, probably on the same nights? Don’t you think you should tell her that you really couldn’t give a shit about her and that the only person you really care about is you and your needs?

Of course I don’t say all that.  What would be the bloody point?

The next message was from a thirty something or other, telling me that he is in bed and a bit chilly, could do with warming up he says… another winky face *rolling my eyes.  Get a bloody hot water bottle then babes, works for me.  Failing that you could always try putting some clothes on.

Yawn!

Message number three was from a guy who has messaged before, several times.  I have never replied.  I don’t reply in an effort to be mean I just don’t reply because I don’t fancy him, there is no point in engaging if you have no intention.   I tried it the other way, replying and saying the whole, thank you but no thank you thing but that doesn’t work either, they just keep messaging.

So my 12th message from him was;

Why don’t you message me back if you can be arsed?

I can’t be arsed, that is why I haven’t messaged you back.  Have you read the rules?  Sometimes people don’t reply to my messages.  I just naturally assume that they are no longer interested.  I do not want to hunt them down and kill them, well not all of them at least.

Well not until I have had a vodka.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Moving on…

Here I am in my usual place on a Sunday morning trying to write something remotely interesting.

I am, as per, drinking more coffee than is probably healthy, while eating cold toast and pondering over my weekend.  I still remain slightly baffled over the whole T thing but I am over it, already, I think.  Well, it doesn’t take long.  It is a fickle business this online dating lark.

Last night when I should have been on my date with T, I was instead sitting on the sofa with tissue stuffed up my nostrils to try to stop the flow of snot.  I have a cold.  I never get colds.  I woke up yesterday with a throat that felt like it was full of razor blades and a river running from my nose.  I felt and still feel shit.

It’s probably just as well I didn’t have a bloody date, actually scratch that, it’s a damn shame I didn’t see T last night, as I would have loved nothing more than to sneeze a bucket load of snot straight in his face.

I spent the afternoon watching films and stuffing my face with any food of calorific content I could get my hands on.  Well they do say feed a cold, don’t they?  I got all emotional and so I ate more shit, stuffed more tissue up my nose and tried my very best not to sneeze parts of my brain out all over the coffee table.

I’m sure I will be right as rain just in time for Monday.

Tom and Elsie are here as I decided to save my ‘sitter token’ for a time when I might actually need it, if ever.

Would you believe, Tom had a date yesterday!  Bloody marvellous isn’t it, my 11-year-old son has a higher success rate with the opposite sex than I do.  The sad truth there is, that statistic is only going to grow in his favour.

I don’t know he does it, he looks like a street urchin most of the time.

He barely washes or brushes his hair, which incidentally he was supposed to get cut Friday, before some debacle or other happened to him and his mates, which inevitably led to him NOT getting it cut.   I had zoned out half way through his tall tale about what happened and how he nearly lost his life and scooter blah blah blah… and so he couldn’t possibly get it done… Grrrr!

One thing is for certain, he will definitely have that, just rocked up and just out of bed look when he is older and the girls will swarm like bees around a honey pot!

Just the sort of guy I am trying my best to avoid at the moment.  Although in all fairness I am not having to try very hard, as they are not exactly beating down the front door.

My first thought was to give up on all this for a little while but I’m not going to.  I’m going to keep plugging away at it and see what happens.  I haven’t got anything to lose, that I havent lost already and to be fair I have learned a few more lessons of late (some a bit sharper than others), so hopefully… I will be a better equipped for any future engagements that may come along.  Well, one can only hope.

Besides, I am a great believer in Karma.  I think we all are to some extent, we like to think that what goes around comes around.

It is what hopefully stops us from being too resentful.  You hope that if someone does you a wrong, that they in turn will get the lesson paid back.  I like to think that there is a place for Karma.  I don’t want people to unnecessarily suffer, just to learn a lesson from their behaviour and or actions.  I don’t think that is unreasonable in any way.

We are all responsible for our own actions and so if we are intentionally unkind or hurtful then surely we should expect to receive treatment of the same kind.  All of our feelings towards others are earned not given and if they are given freely and rejected then that makes it all the more painful.

I am sincerely hoping that someday soon T gets his just desserts.  It doesn’t matter that I wont see it (although I can’t say I wouldn’t like to),  just that he gets it and served cold, as they say that is the best way.

Right enough about T.  The man has had too much time spent on him already, so there will be no more mention of him, from this moment on.

It is still early on in the New Year and so I can still feel optimistic about what it may bring.  Besides, there are much worse things that could have happened, so I am putting my big girl panties on and facing it off.

Well, after I’ve shaken off this God damn cold…