I'm very sorry for the lateness in this latest episode of my meaningless ramblings, but access to a computer has been scarce due to some technical difficulties. Never mind, I'm back now!
So I would like to start off by revealing the unbelievably exciting news that POF boy texted me last night. I was in the car on the way home from Alton Towers, wired to the moon on Rockstarr and Wham bars, and for a few seconds after I'd read the message, I thought perhaps I was on some weird sugar trip. The unicorn sitting next to me thought the same. It certainly came as a surprise, as it's normally me doing the chasing and it got me thinking about why people go back to someone they've had previous with.
Now obviously, the fact that POF boy has decided to get back in touch is quite a mild case of what I like to call Repetitive Partner Syndrome (RPS) as nothing has ever happened between us bar texting. But when I think about my last relationship and how many times I went back to something which should have been hung up, shot, chained up in a titanium box and dropped in the Forth, I started wondering why people go back to the all too familiar.
For me the biggest reason was still being in love - or what I thought was love. Despite the fact he was decidedly wrong for me, I was besotted. It's amazing how quickly you forget what went wrong after you've split up with somebody that you still have feelings for. You start to recall the days the two of you sat infront of a roaring fire toasting marshmallows...the time you both kissed passionately in the rain on the bridge..that night in Paris...I mean none of this actually happened but you start to believe you walked away from the most idyllic relationship in the world - and subconsicously decide it would be silliness to let go of the situation.
Another reason - whether girls want to admit it or not - is sex. If you meet somebody new and decide you'd like to...ahem...you know, then this inevitably leads to meticulous and obsessive personal grooming. This will normally consists of you putting Veet EVERYWHERE, whilst slapping on copious amounts of fake tan, a facemask and all the while frequently looking at yourself naked in the mirror asking why you ever starting consuming solids. Whereas with ex's, they've seen you at your worst - vomiting, farting, peeing (it was just once, I promise) - and therefore the pressure is off and the lights can stay on.
The darker side of running back to the same person is of course personal insecurities. Feeling like you're never going to find someone else is, I'm sure, a common notion among the female population. My friend Meghan recently said to me "There's no point being tied down with someone who isn't right for you, because you'll miss out on all the nice, normal, hot guys that come along" - and it really is that simple. I should have drawn a line under my last relationship LONG before it came to the sticky end it did based purely on that reasoning. It all depends on how far you're willing to be pushed as to when you feel compelled to call 'time!'.
POF boy said he'd had a lot going on recently which is why contact had been none existent? Am I going to give him the benefit of the doubt and start texting again? We'll see...oh and can you pass me the St. Tropez!
Monday 18 July 2011
Sunday 10 July 2011
Is He Looking?
So I'm walking with confidence (hips swaying whilst trying to stop my bum from wobbling), laughing attractively (loud enough to catch his attention, but not so that my mouth looks like the Clyde Tunnel) and tossing my hair with what I imagine is poise, grace and femininity. And does he notice? Does he hell.
I think I've already mentioned that texting my POF boy kind of fizzled out - the success of my blog is probably quite intimidating for some guys, I've got to remember that in future. Oh, and I have a further revelation; I've deleted my dating profile. I know, I know...just when I was so close to finding a husband as well (!). The thing is when you've got the same guy adding you on Facebook, adding you on Twitter, poking you on Facebook and then on top of all this you're getting strange phone calls late at night, I for one am quite happy to say goodbye to Internet dating before I have to say hello to a restraining order. I had visions of waking up in a predicament similar to the one experienced by Vince Vaughn's character in Wedding Crashers; tied to my bed with a stranger insisting we'd "had a moment" online and asking if I'd like to play tummy sticks.
So I've had to revert back to reality to find a man, and this has led me to think about the things that girls do to get a guy's attention - hence my opening paragraph. That was an example of my own technique - it' obviously fool proof going by the amount of boys I'm attracting at the moment - and I'm of the opinion that every girl has their own unique way of reeling in the fellas! After doing a bit of research (asking my best mates) it is obvious that the more a girl likes a guy, the more devious these tactics become. For example, if the apple of your eye is going to be on the same night out as you, there is the classic "I've seen him in my peripheral vision but I'm just going to ignore him so he definitely doesn't think I'm interested" - pure genius. Then there's the old "I'll go over and say hello to all his friends in full view of him so he feels compelled to come over and mark his territory" - inspired. And my favourite of all is turning up at a club wearing an "I LOVE [insert name here]" sandwich-board whilst a brass band marches behind me belting out 'I Love You Baby'. OK I made the last one up, but apart from it being a little full on, it would probably turn out to be the most successful technique. From what I know of my guy mates, lads just like to know where they stand - a lot of these 'cunning tactics' wash right over their heads, and I genuinely think they would be terrified if they knew just how much planning can go into even the most casual of social encounters.
It is so much fun though isn't it? You'll be sitting in your jogger bottoms, tub of ice-cream in one hand, spoon in the other, Marley & Me on the TV...and suddenly you receive word that your one true love will be out this evening. Normally this word is in the form of text message, but whether it's phone, email or carrier pigeon, you get your butt in the shower pronto, get gorgeous and proceed to practice a few casually beautiful faces in the mirror. Then it's off to wherever he may be so you can talk to his pals, walk about in front of him 'looking sexy' and blatantly ignore him for most of the evening. You will then go home that evening alone (in my case probably crying) and ponder with your girlfriends as to why the object of your affections did not work out that the reason you were blanking him is because you wanted his babies. Men really are bastards.
I think I've already mentioned that texting my POF boy kind of fizzled out - the success of my blog is probably quite intimidating for some guys, I've got to remember that in future. Oh, and I have a further revelation; I've deleted my dating profile. I know, I know...just when I was so close to finding a husband as well (!). The thing is when you've got the same guy adding you on Facebook, adding you on Twitter, poking you on Facebook and then on top of all this you're getting strange phone calls late at night, I for one am quite happy to say goodbye to Internet dating before I have to say hello to a restraining order. I had visions of waking up in a predicament similar to the one experienced by Vince Vaughn's character in Wedding Crashers; tied to my bed with a stranger insisting we'd "had a moment" online and asking if I'd like to play tummy sticks.
So I've had to revert back to reality to find a man, and this has led me to think about the things that girls do to get a guy's attention - hence my opening paragraph. That was an example of my own technique - it' obviously fool proof going by the amount of boys I'm attracting at the moment - and I'm of the opinion that every girl has their own unique way of reeling in the fellas! After doing a bit of research (asking my best mates) it is obvious that the more a girl likes a guy, the more devious these tactics become. For example, if the apple of your eye is going to be on the same night out as you, there is the classic "I've seen him in my peripheral vision but I'm just going to ignore him so he definitely doesn't think I'm interested" - pure genius. Then there's the old "I'll go over and say hello to all his friends in full view of him so he feels compelled to come over and mark his territory" - inspired. And my favourite of all is turning up at a club wearing an "I LOVE [insert name here]" sandwich-board whilst a brass band marches behind me belting out 'I Love You Baby'. OK I made the last one up, but apart from it being a little full on, it would probably turn out to be the most successful technique. From what I know of my guy mates, lads just like to know where they stand - a lot of these 'cunning tactics' wash right over their heads, and I genuinely think they would be terrified if they knew just how much planning can go into even the most casual of social encounters.
It is so much fun though isn't it? You'll be sitting in your jogger bottoms, tub of ice-cream in one hand, spoon in the other, Marley & Me on the TV...and suddenly you receive word that your one true love will be out this evening. Normally this word is in the form of text message, but whether it's phone, email or carrier pigeon, you get your butt in the shower pronto, get gorgeous and proceed to practice a few casually beautiful faces in the mirror. Then it's off to wherever he may be so you can talk to his pals, walk about in front of him 'looking sexy' and blatantly ignore him for most of the evening. You will then go home that evening alone (in my case probably crying) and ponder with your girlfriends as to why the object of your affections did not work out that the reason you were blanking him is because you wanted his babies. Men really are bastards.
Thursday 7 July 2011
Pick-A-Little-Talk-A-Little.
Where I stay, everyone's business always gets played out to an array of spectators. When I refer to spectators I mean the majority of Stirling University. And when I say 'everyone's business' what I really mean is drama, drama, drama.
Now lets be serious...who doesn't love a bit of gossip? It's impossible to avoid, and no matter what sort of person you are, to say you don't enjoy discussing the personal matters of others is nothing short of pure denial. There are differents levels of gossip though; the irrelevant 'who's sleeping with who' chit chat that normally arises after a night out, to the more advanced stages of tittle-tattle such as 'who's being extradited on drug trafficking charges'. I happen to think that the classification given to drugs could probably be applied successfully to gossip aswell - it's an addictive, recreational habit after all. Although I've yet to see Channel 4 do a Dispatches programme on how gossip has ruined someones life and I doubt someone has ever sold their PlayStation in order to be able to afford a copy of OK! I might make some enquiries at Cash Converters - maybe this is an issue that people are ignoring. I could start a charity and...I digress!
As I was saying - nothing stays secret in Stirling. I actually toyed with the slightly pretencious idea of becoming the Gossip Girl of the city and anonymously spilling the beans on my peers - some of the chat that circulates this place is hilarious. However in saying that, I'd probably have to include some of what I get up to in these revelations, and while I can laugh at my 'mishaps' - I wouldn't recommend watching 'So You Think You Can Dance' then trying to emulate some moves whilst blind drunk on a club's deserted dancefloor by the way - writing them down in black and white is probably going to earn me a good few years on the psycologists couch. Where a couple of folk think I should be already - or so I've been told?
Anyway, I'm all too aware I'm yet to make a serious point within these ramblings. What I have actually observed is that while people gossip idly or talk about people's business with or without malicious intent, seemingly meaningless chats about the lives of others can have SUCH a monumental influence on the outcome of a situation that I'd put gossipping up there as one of the most dangerous acts in the world. One little spilled detail can be the difference between a reconciliation or a break up; a full blown fight or make-up sex. It's like that theory that scientists have that when a butterfly beats it's wings, that starts a chain reaction of events off. Everyone's been there; you open your mouth to someone, information comes tumbling from your lips - information that you've been so desperate to tell you swear you can see the words doing a conga line down your tongue - and before you know where you are, you have unwittingly started the next World War and have made a mental note to yourself that a) Perhaps building an Anderson Shelter at the bottom of the garden might be a shout and b) You are a fucking idiot.
However, I happen to think that places like Stirling thrive on gossip. It's what brings folk together in all walks of life; the chat after a night out is like one big bonding session for men and women across the globe. Mother's coffee mornings - a pirhana pool of scandal, deceit and custard creams - are a prime example of uniting in gossip. And companies looking to improve their team building skills should save themselves the money they spend on training, send their employees on a drunken night out and then get them all to talk about it the next day - I'd more than happily take the sessions, especially as I'd probably provide most of the material. This would all be inbetween my charity work for Gossipers Anonymous that is - I think I'm definately on to something there. Tell your friends! (As if I even need to say that eh.)
Now lets be serious...who doesn't love a bit of gossip? It's impossible to avoid, and no matter what sort of person you are, to say you don't enjoy discussing the personal matters of others is nothing short of pure denial. There are differents levels of gossip though; the irrelevant 'who's sleeping with who' chit chat that normally arises after a night out, to the more advanced stages of tittle-tattle such as 'who's being extradited on drug trafficking charges'. I happen to think that the classification given to drugs could probably be applied successfully to gossip aswell - it's an addictive, recreational habit after all. Although I've yet to see Channel 4 do a Dispatches programme on how gossip has ruined someones life and I doubt someone has ever sold their PlayStation in order to be able to afford a copy of OK! I might make some enquiries at Cash Converters - maybe this is an issue that people are ignoring. I could start a charity and...I digress!
As I was saying - nothing stays secret in Stirling. I actually toyed with the slightly pretencious idea of becoming the Gossip Girl of the city and anonymously spilling the beans on my peers - some of the chat that circulates this place is hilarious. However in saying that, I'd probably have to include some of what I get up to in these revelations, and while I can laugh at my 'mishaps' - I wouldn't recommend watching 'So You Think You Can Dance' then trying to emulate some moves whilst blind drunk on a club's deserted dancefloor by the way - writing them down in black and white is probably going to earn me a good few years on the psycologists couch. Where a couple of folk think I should be already - or so I've been told?
Anyway, I'm all too aware I'm yet to make a serious point within these ramblings. What I have actually observed is that while people gossip idly or talk about people's business with or without malicious intent, seemingly meaningless chats about the lives of others can have SUCH a monumental influence on the outcome of a situation that I'd put gossipping up there as one of the most dangerous acts in the world. One little spilled detail can be the difference between a reconciliation or a break up; a full blown fight or make-up sex. It's like that theory that scientists have that when a butterfly beats it's wings, that starts a chain reaction of events off. Everyone's been there; you open your mouth to someone, information comes tumbling from your lips - information that you've been so desperate to tell you swear you can see the words doing a conga line down your tongue - and before you know where you are, you have unwittingly started the next World War and have made a mental note to yourself that a) Perhaps building an Anderson Shelter at the bottom of the garden might be a shout and b) You are a fucking idiot.
However, I happen to think that places like Stirling thrive on gossip. It's what brings folk together in all walks of life; the chat after a night out is like one big bonding session for men and women across the globe. Mother's coffee mornings - a pirhana pool of scandal, deceit and custard creams - are a prime example of uniting in gossip. And companies looking to improve their team building skills should save themselves the money they spend on training, send their employees on a drunken night out and then get them all to talk about it the next day - I'd more than happily take the sessions, especially as I'd probably provide most of the material. This would all be inbetween my charity work for Gossipers Anonymous that is - I think I'm definately on to something there. Tell your friends! (As if I even need to say that eh.)
Monday 4 July 2011
I Walk The Line
Well my love life has kind of come to a screeching halt but that does not mean that men have not been the main fixation of my life this week - for all the right reasons though, they're my pals.
I move into my new flat tomorrow which means I'll no longer be living in a mans, mans world (ie. a flat with four boys). I don't know what I've enjoyed more - verbally being given a list of guys in the Stirling area who are too good for me, frequently being asked about the effects Veet Hair Removal cream would have on a guy's testicles, being shown aforementioned testicles or being drawn into strange sexual discussions that no girl should ever be asked her opinion on. I would give you the juicy details but I'm very aware that I've started this blog in a bid to enhance my CV and I'm pretty sure some of the bedroom techniques I've had described to me would not only be unprofessional to disect but are also more than likely illegal in some countries. Kit Kat Chunky is all I'm saying.
It's strange how sexuality can become completely irrelevant in a friendship between a boy and a girl. I'm all too aware than boys discuss sex a lot, and far from toning this down when they have a girl to stay, my guy mates merely included me in the lad chats that are clearly a regular fixture in their day to day routine. Sometimes I feel sorry for the girls they discuss, as the conversations are far from respectful. But then I think about the obsessive, detailed analysis that me and my girlfriends put any new guy in our lives through and I realised it all balances out. Plus, boys have a much more humorous approach to their experiences with girls and while I should really be acting in a disgusted manner at the degrading turn these discussions can take, I cannot help but find it really, really funny. I mean...the morning after the night before, a girl will be on the phone to her gal pals discussing if it was good, if he had asked for her number etc, etc, etc. And the boy will more than likely be discussing with his compadres if he managed to get a finger up her bum. And there goes my journalism reputation.
Maybe I'm just friends with a few of the more blunt members of the male human race. Maybe there are guys who, after getting with a girl, sit down with their pals and discuss the chemistry of the encounter and where they think it will lead - but I'm sorry, I highly doubt it. And having been party to a number of risque discussion with my boy friends, I can honestly say that I enjoy being treated like one of the lads. Apart from anything else, being party to these explicit chats is slowly but surely curing my naivety around guys. Infact, I think my boy pals should have their own chat show. I can assure you it would make 'The Joys Of Teen Sex' look like an episode of 'Listen With Mother'.
I move into my new flat tomorrow which means I'll no longer be living in a mans, mans world (ie. a flat with four boys). I don't know what I've enjoyed more - verbally being given a list of guys in the Stirling area who are too good for me, frequently being asked about the effects Veet Hair Removal cream would have on a guy's testicles, being shown aforementioned testicles or being drawn into strange sexual discussions that no girl should ever be asked her opinion on. I would give you the juicy details but I'm very aware that I've started this blog in a bid to enhance my CV and I'm pretty sure some of the bedroom techniques I've had described to me would not only be unprofessional to disect but are also more than likely illegal in some countries. Kit Kat Chunky is all I'm saying.
It's strange how sexuality can become completely irrelevant in a friendship between a boy and a girl. I'm all too aware than boys discuss sex a lot, and far from toning this down when they have a girl to stay, my guy mates merely included me in the lad chats that are clearly a regular fixture in their day to day routine. Sometimes I feel sorry for the girls they discuss, as the conversations are far from respectful. But then I think about the obsessive, detailed analysis that me and my girlfriends put any new guy in our lives through and I realised it all balances out. Plus, boys have a much more humorous approach to their experiences with girls and while I should really be acting in a disgusted manner at the degrading turn these discussions can take, I cannot help but find it really, really funny. I mean...the morning after the night before, a girl will be on the phone to her gal pals discussing if it was good, if he had asked for her number etc, etc, etc. And the boy will more than likely be discussing with his compadres if he managed to get a finger up her bum. And there goes my journalism reputation.
Maybe I'm just friends with a few of the more blunt members of the male human race. Maybe there are guys who, after getting with a girl, sit down with their pals and discuss the chemistry of the encounter and where they think it will lead - but I'm sorry, I highly doubt it. And having been party to a number of risque discussion with my boy friends, I can honestly say that I enjoy being treated like one of the lads. Apart from anything else, being party to these explicit chats is slowly but surely curing my naivety around guys. Infact, I think my boy pals should have their own chat show. I can assure you it would make 'The Joys Of Teen Sex' look like an episode of 'Listen With Mother'.
Saturday 2 July 2011
Here We Go Round The Merry-Go-Round...
I've been thinking a lot about the concept of courtship over the past few days. Even using the word 'courtship' is wildly old-fashioned - and I'm actually a bit horrified at myself because the first word that popped into my head whilst trying to think of a more modern way of wording it was 'shaggin'. I'm blaming my apparent filthy mind on the fact I'm living with four boys at the moment; I live in hope that the images of flowers, love hearts and puppy dogs that usually occupy my little blond head will soon return.
Living with four boys is what has triggered these thoughts about how girls and boys interact before they decide to jump into any form of commitment. Personally, I'm a lot more uneasy about this stage of affairs than I used to be. I remember being more than up for playing the usual games (that I believe were once used as legitimate forms of mental torture) but I've learnt that how people can appear when you first meet them can be scarily different to what they become. I am therefore much more appreciative of people who are upfront from the beginning - although the thrill of the chase is a hard thing to find un-enjoyable. The chase is what a relationship stems from; it's this ritual that defines a couple's chemistry from the offset. And if the excitement you experience when you first realise that you actually quite fancy someone lasts beyond those crucial first two weeks, you know in yourself that your feelings are on a higher plane than just 'shaggin'.
The lead up to that point is just brutal though, isn't it? 'So he texted me last, so that makes it OK for me to text him now. But if I text him, he texts back, I text him back and then I don't get a reply, then it's definitely not OK to text him for at least another 48 hours and that's only if there's a full moon and a golden leprechaun visits me in my dreams and gives me a sign"...and the sad thing is that I find the majority of that sentence rational. And guys are just as bad; 'Well she never asked me a question or anything, and I've got football, a night out and a Tesco big shop to do...I'm sure she won't mind no contact for a few days'. Whats nice is that girls and boys are starting to understand each others mentalities more and more...and because of this I am sorry to say that in the crazy stakes, girls clean up.
Despite this, no matter on the sex of the person, I like to think that this 'craziness' signifies passion and a desire to succeed in all aspects of life. I think that when they issue people with restraining orders they should also enrol them in some sort of entrepreneurial work shop - no doubt they would flourish! Modern courtship is nothing more than a tidal wave of insecurities from both parties - and I wouldn't have it other way. I enjoy wondering why he hasn't texted me, I enjoy waiting for him to speak to me first and I enjoy going out and sinking a bottle of wine when the whole thing blows up in my face. And while boys and girls consistently profess they hate the anguish they have to endure when an initial spark doesn't turn into the forest fire they had anticipated, these claims are quite frankly rubbish. Because I know for a fact that once my hangover passes - both literally and metaphorically - I'll quite happily go back to square one.
Living with four boys is what has triggered these thoughts about how girls and boys interact before they decide to jump into any form of commitment. Personally, I'm a lot more uneasy about this stage of affairs than I used to be. I remember being more than up for playing the usual games (that I believe were once used as legitimate forms of mental torture) but I've learnt that how people can appear when you first meet them can be scarily different to what they become. I am therefore much more appreciative of people who are upfront from the beginning - although the thrill of the chase is a hard thing to find un-enjoyable. The chase is what a relationship stems from; it's this ritual that defines a couple's chemistry from the offset. And if the excitement you experience when you first realise that you actually quite fancy someone lasts beyond those crucial first two weeks, you know in yourself that your feelings are on a higher plane than just 'shaggin'.
The lead up to that point is just brutal though, isn't it? 'So he texted me last, so that makes it OK for me to text him now. But if I text him, he texts back, I text him back and then I don't get a reply, then it's definitely not OK to text him for at least another 48 hours and that's only if there's a full moon and a golden leprechaun visits me in my dreams and gives me a sign"...and the sad thing is that I find the majority of that sentence rational. And guys are just as bad; 'Well she never asked me a question or anything, and I've got football, a night out and a Tesco big shop to do...I'm sure she won't mind no contact for a few days'. Whats nice is that girls and boys are starting to understand each others mentalities more and more...and because of this I am sorry to say that in the crazy stakes, girls clean up.
Despite this, no matter on the sex of the person, I like to think that this 'craziness' signifies passion and a desire to succeed in all aspects of life. I think that when they issue people with restraining orders they should also enrol them in some sort of entrepreneurial work shop - no doubt they would flourish! Modern courtship is nothing more than a tidal wave of insecurities from both parties - and I wouldn't have it other way. I enjoy wondering why he hasn't texted me, I enjoy waiting for him to speak to me first and I enjoy going out and sinking a bottle of wine when the whole thing blows up in my face. And while boys and girls consistently profess they hate the anguish they have to endure when an initial spark doesn't turn into the forest fire they had anticipated, these claims are quite frankly rubbish. Because I know for a fact that once my hangover passes - both literally and metaphorically - I'll quite happily go back to square one.
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