11 Months

I have now been single for 11 months.

Subconsciously I gave myself 12 to get my act together before embarking on another relationship of the emotional kind.

I’m not saying I have not ‘dated’ because I have, I’m not saying I’ve been a nun because heaven help me I haven’t.

11 months, 11 months is just enough to get set in ones ways, to pee with the door open, to scratch ones butt whilst adorning P’J’s and sipping left over rum (past 12 O’Clock somewhere I’m sure), to talk animatedly to ones self and to get used to the dogs sleeping in my bed.

What the fuck would I do if a man suddenly came into my life and wanted to see me in succession or for a full weekend or to MOVE IN! Ok so I’m jumping ahead but you know what I mean.

Would I forget that he was there and do something that might seem odd to them, but over time has found it’s way to be perfectly normal to myself?

This is actually a horror factor for me to worry about and I don’t even have a date lined up, neurosis eat yeah heart out, or head in my case.

So not only do I have to worry about dating, not dating, falling in love, never falling in love, never spending time with someone AND spending time with them, I’m surprised I’m functioning at all.

One second I can be contemplating going back on a dating website or 50 (so many, so little time and even less inclination) then the next moment I’m bristling my inner lady with thoughts of feminism and man hate (I know they don’t go hand in hand, calm down), what I do know however is that when the………. not right……. no….. but when the suitor with the biggest backbone and common sense comes along, I will know it and unfortunately for them, they will too.

Perhaps I should write a Health and Safety leaflet with evacuation (take that as you will) procedures and where to smoke after, I could have various levels for how long they stay over or we continue dating, I could show a route from the local pub in case we get trolled and also where my clitoris should be, might be, just go for it and see what happens….

Perhaps I should set up a template for all ladies and gents alike that have been out of the game too long, copy and paste whats needed and add in the details to suit ones self.

If interested, message me, I’m sure I can help;)

 

Hibernation Needed

The moment I realised that I wasn’t winning was last weekend.

I could have won, but I didn’t.

Now I had a God awful feeling of dread from the moment I stepped out of the door to go and stay at a girlfriends, I should of taken heed and listened to the inner screaming but I didn’t, does anybody? So instead of Hunkering down and eating ice cream from the tub and probably sharing it with my cat (yes same spoon don’t judge), I still went.

Friday was ok, my friend has just started socialising with a younger crown so that’s all I heard about, yawns being stifled I continued as I was out of the house, no kids, no dogs no fucking hoover winking at me un-suggestively.

Saturday, it was the halloween weekend so we dressed up to go for a large pub crawl.

As Bees

Zom-Bees, get it….Hmm…

So anyway, we went out, and I got drunk, the conversation was not enticing enough for me to give a fuck about and so I drank, this is what happens, if I can be, not entertained but not far off then I’m happy as a sand boy, if I feel shit beforehand or miffed in anyway, then heaven help myself as that’s the person that tends to get fucked up in one way or another.

In my drunken state I agreed to get a lift with someone I didn’t know.

Big mistake, BIG, HUGE.

So it ended up with my mobile being swiped, a couple of punches, on both sides and me being dragged out of the car in an unlit road where I thought was going to be my final resting place.

I think he was more scared at one point then I was.

He just left me there. Thank Christ, or thank my feisty nature and the fact I will never feel like a victim, even when I am.

Somethings as they say happen for a reason, I am a firm believer in this, not that it was meant to happen, but after something does, then learn from it.

This can be anything, learning how to be a better driver after a speeding fine, learning how to deal with situations better at work after an office cow tries to set you up, all that good stuff.

But what about lessons in love, for there are plenty are there not.

As most of my blogs have been about men in general and the fuckupness of my relationships with men in one vein or another perhaps I should mention how my little attack will not put me off men, I will not allow it, even though it probably should.

When I had got home, the first person that I wanted to talk to, was a man, a male friend, not my girlfriends, my male ones, was this perhaps because I felt I needed protection or it could have been because I wanted affirmation that men are not all bad.

Just some.

Most

Nearly all

 

I have figured out that some of the men in my life that I hold in great favour do not warrant this, that my trusting nature is by far too trusting, that people are just people, flawed and tainted and wrong on so many levels.

It’s just finding the ones that suit your level and deserve your time and merit.

And for got sake don’t get in anymore strange mens fucking cars.

I’m too old for all this.

Hibernation is needed.

 

Can’t see the wood for the trees

What the fuck.

Why am I so impossibly flawed, how can one human have a complete inability to control my emotions. I don’t think I’m alone in this.

Do Monkey’s look at another Monkey they like and say ‘Hey you! male Monkey, I shall give you the ability to allow you to change how I feel’

Does that happen?

Does a male Dolphin suddenly like another Dolphin more which leaves the female Dolphin questioning their very being?

No wonder we look for a higher power to explain the whole fucked up beauty which are humans, the question is not why are we here, but why are we given these gorgeously, tempestuous, feisty, angry, warm, loving, kind, hateful and lost feelings.

What a horrible game God played (whatever God and no God), what a truly disgraceful horrid game.

 

It’s like we have been given too much, and just fractionally not enough.

 

We can see how we can feel and we can fall in love and hate and everything in between so easily but we find it monumentally difficult to train our clever and expanding minds to be able to shut down the emotions once we get them going, surely after 1000’s of years we should have mastered the art of self control.

Or is it was we don’t want to, is it that we choose not to control the emotional elements as we are not machines, animals(clever animals, well, most of the time), yes, but not machines.

If we could, suddenly stop loving someone, would we do it? Would we take a pill to stop how we feel, or is it that process of torture that keeps growing as people.

I would take the pill, I would train my thoughts, I don’t need any more personal fucking growth.

Ok,

So I’m going to try and use a technique where I will flick, and flick that fucker hard, an elastic band round my wrist, now in theory this could work, except I will look decidedly crazy when talking to the man that I want to dismiss as off hand as a swish of a mares tail, ‘how are you today’ – Ouch, ‘can you just do me a favour’ – Ouch…Ouch, Ouch twatting Ouch.

Maybe not.

How is it though that sometimes we can just turn off our emotional triggers, people fall out of love don’t they, OR is it that they fall in love (perhaps just the starting gear up, limerance) with out people, there is a saying about relationships and branches, are we only happy to get rid of one when there is something else to cling onto, however tenuous.

Do I just need another man to be the object of my affection, or am I wallowing in like a fat sow in warm damp muck, making squiggy noises and happy as a, pig is shit I guess.

It’s like a catch 22, how can you find someone while thinking about someone else. People do it all the time though don’t they, all the bloody time, so maybe now I know this, I can train my brain to be more open to the suggestion of ‘someone’ else.

Be a tree with lots of branches, seems pretty legit to me, the more branches extending to twigs the more likely I might be to get over the wood…Haha…

By finding a forest, this could work.

 

 

 

A Little Respect….

This weekend was a weekend of nothingness, no plans except to buy trainers for the boys and take one said boy to football.

I say this was a weekend of nothingness, but it was a weekend of pondering, thinking, analysing and soul searching.

I didn’t plan for it to be like that, it just happened.

I think the catalyst was one of my best friends turning round and telling me she had slept with one of my male best friends, now I don’t or shouldn’t have a problem with this, it was I that introduced the two, I knew it would happen.

My male best friend has slept with 3 of my friends now, 3. It doesn’t take a genius to work out that his sexual frustration and need is closely woven into our friendship, I can not tell you the amount of times where I’ve had to skirt round topics and made my body language super defensive so he  didn’t go in for the kiss.

He would love to have a relationship with me, I know this (I’m not being big headed, he just would) and I don’t want to. I like our friendship, I would rather he settled down and found a nice girl, he did and it didn’t work out. (he sort of did and yes he sort of kept trying).

The fact they slept together does not bother me, what bothered me was that they thought it would be better to keep it a secret…..Why? Why would their thought process come up with the fact I would care, I care now, because they thought I would, so if they thought I would be bothered they did it anyway.

Sounds daft, but what if I had been bothered, what is this had upset me, 2 of my closest friends would have done something that could have made me upset.

OK so I’m being anally retentive, but THAT bothered me.

So it got me thinking, does anyone really care if they do something to upset me, am I so hard nosed that people feel they can do anything?

I think yes, I think my laid back easy attitude (most of the time) has done me an injustice.

I don’t command respect, I don’t know how, how can you get others to respect you when you’re not sure what respect even is.

Do I even want it? Do I need it? Do I care?

Yes, yes, yes, I would be lying if I said I didn’t. So, how does one find this? Shall I go trawling the streets with a fish net like the peeps searching for Pokemon? Shall I start burning my bras and protesting against stuff.

Or shall I just women the fuck up. If something annoys me, speak out, if someone cuts me up in my car, beep the sodding horn, if people in my life are toxic, get rid?

Yes, yes and yes.

So that’s what I’m planning on doing, I’m going to be stronger, be harder and be more respectful to myself.

I guess you have to start somewhere right.

And it starts here.

 

Words of unwisdom 

So, in the last post I touched upon the idea that our Mothers might mold the people we become.

I have been mulling over this, thinking I was shifting blame, or trying to justify the way we are with people.

And I’m pretty sure I’m right. With both.

I remember clearly being about 13, I know I must of been about that age as I was tubby and had a pixie hair cut. (why did you let me cut my hair…Saying that I would have cut it myself anyway) 13 year old, a misfit, too sharp and not clever enough, got dragged into the loo with my Mother, she peed and said to me ‘*******”just make sure you always get your end off first” I had no idea what she was talking about….At that time…

Now my Mothers moto, is and always has been, “I will not give advise, if you ask for it” So, I’m pretty sure I didn’t ask for it so it must have be worth taking note for.

And I did, when I was old enough, I got it, in so many ways, I don’t let cars go first if I can, I don’t put my dogs on the lead when I should, I never apologise unless I REALLY have to (or I do and it’s a lie and we both know it) and the last one….I always get my end away first, always. It is a good piece of advice for women, perhaps not for a 13 year old gamine…outcast…But still…….

Has this one moment in my Mothers drunken ramblings changed the course of how I see life.

I think yes.

Do I drink and smoke too much because she did? Did the strong willed, clever, warm, stupidly intelligent women indent in how I am.

I think yes.

So the real question is, in some of my drunken states, what the fuck have I said to the kids?!?

There is one thing I have ingrained into them…

With great beauty, whether it be body or mind or spirit, as we are all beautiful in our own ways, comes great responsibility, to yourself and to others.

(I do wish I listened to my own bullshit).

Everything we do and people we emotionally touch have a bitterfly effect, and no that’s not a typo, just being, is making a change, and living, sometimes to hard and too brash, can pass on a prod to someone else, we should try and be mindful of our actions (try, but rarely to succeed) make what we say and do a staged grace. We can’t though, as we are at the end of the day animals, we try and we we fail and we will fuck things and people up, it’s almost too poetic really.

So what will your words of wisdom be?

Never eat yellow snow…Can’t go wrong with that….

Suffer the children.

I am a terrible dater.

False, I am a very good dater, I can hold a conversation with nearly anyone, male or female, I can flirt my way to high heaven with gentle persuasion, I know exactly how to move subjects to my own liking and can use my body to influence peoples reactions.

That’s the easy bit. What I can not do it keep my knickers on, that and maintain being nice after.

It’s just all a bit easy, I find men, too easy.

I don’t respect them afterwards, sounds daft yes, but completely true.

Take Plenty of Fish for example, joined on Friday, too many messages and way too many ‘Would like to meet’ it just feels too easy, almost like I could be anyone and they would say yes, do men say yes to every woman? Is there no longer the thrill of a bit of chase……?

Now the women reading this will hate me for saying this……But…..

I have two sons, both coming up to the age where they are expressing an interest in the opposite sex, and I couldn’t help saying….”Don’t ever play it too nice, be nice but not too nice”

Hmm, ok so maybe this is why the world of dating is what it is because of mothers like me, however it’s the truth.

I want an equal footing, I don’t want to be pandered to, harassed, over messaged and over loved.

On the same note, I don’t want to be unloved, no messages and to do all the chasing as that is just so boring, finding the equilibrium is what is driving me to being an arsehole, a pain in the arse, arsehole. Now I would like to say it’s just because I’m picky but that’s totally not the case.

It’s taken years of systematic wrong turns and tilted avenues to bring me here, I allowed men to change how I perceive myself, and in turn how I perceive them. Maybe we should all blame the mothers, sons and daughters alike for the wrong doings towards others as well as taking the blame ourselves, for are we just a mirror of warped situations and glimpses of shadows of people we have allowed to touch our souls, whether we wanted them to or not.

I don’t have to date, I don’t need to have a man around but I do like male company, sometimes, this weekend I have the choice of multiple men to go to dinner with, have drinks with, even to just have sex with and I can’t be bothered. I’m just not that bothered.

The thrill of meeting a fella that you like is good, but shopping for them on the internet is really quite disturbing.

Perhaps I should ask my Mother to arrange a marriage for me……As she has to take some of the blame….

Surely…..