Smidge

I have insisted many times on this blog that i am honest, black and white, don’t do greys. But am i honestly being honest with myself? It’s no wonder that with my chequered past that i’m querying the choices that i have made. Indeed, as two of my boyfriends have gone on to marry the person they met straight after me, it seems that my insistence (in my own head at least) that i’m not the marrying type (again) maybe be scuppering my chance of finding happiness.

Hiding the fact that I want the roses around the door ideal, and coming across as a carefree, im never going to settle type, may result in fun short term relationships, but in reality it only results in confusion and muddying of the waters. So, should i be giving more weight to my niggly jealousy that my sister has achieved the perfect triumvirate when i am without a single supporter?

Maybe it is time to accept that this eternal Mrs Robinson is bored of her yet-to-be-graduates.

Kx

A few shots of the Edinburgh Canal Festival and Raft Race, June 2009. Shame about the weather…

1 phone number from a cute guy, i’m far from ready, but its flattering all the same

2 nights out to wash that man right out of my hair and send him on his way

3 unexpected emails asking to keep in touch

4 times a few tears might have leaked out whilst in public

5 bitter texts sent whilst drunk on night one of washing that man right out of my hair

6 months – the time that i’ve been told it will take me to get over him

7 long days since we broke up

8 empty wine bottles sitting next to the kitchen bin

9 pounds i think i have put on eating junk, i thought break ups were meant to make you thin

10 chick flicks watched to cheer myself up with Hollywood type movie happiness

11 times the ‘long time ago very sexy ex’ texted me last night for a booty call, i didn’t. I was tempted though, wouldn’t you be?

12 times i’ve changed my mind about going to my sisters birthday party as the older spinster (i’m going)

13 months since i’ve had sex with anyone but him

14 times i have listened to Bright Side of the Road by Van Morrison (From the dark end of the street, to the bright side of the road)

100 times i’ve said “actually i’m fine”

140 cigarettes smoked in the last week, disgusting. £42 that i could have spent on a new hair cut for a new me instead,

141 times i wished i didn’t need smoking as a crutch

1000 times i have been thankful for the last year, but wished that the time when i will look back and remember only the happy memories would hurry up.

If I asked for your advice, i’m sure that you would all say that I need to take time to find myself, to find the things that I enjoy, to become me, to surround myself with friends; but I really wish it were that simple.

I would have to go back 15 years to how that first boyfriend made my life light up and changed the way I saw relationships forever. I wish that over the next 15 years I hadn’t become so dependent on having someone by my side that loved me differently (better? More?) to the way my friends and (at the time how I felt) my family loved me.

My friendships, whilst many, are tenuous things; I often feel they could drift off if I closed my eyes for too long. Despite the hurt that love brings I have never been able to open myself up to friendship the way I have to love. I’ve never been able to step out confidently alone. My steps always falter; i’m like Bambi, all wide eyed and afraid. I’m in awe of people who can surround themselves with friends without feeling alone in a crowd. I always feel alone in a crowd.

I hide a loneliness inside that is only quenched by having someone’s hand to hold.

When you feel that other relationships don’t fulfil you the way they should, the way you see how other people have better relationships than you, its easy to get addicted to love, to having someone who looks at you in that way and like that at you only.

It’s easy to become dependent.

I think this is the most honest thing I have ever written.

It’s good to have this out. It’s good to be able to admit it. I’m not sure I will ever be able to change my spots, to be able to let go of that desire to have someone there only for me and me alone, but I will work with this.

Kx

“I’m not looking for another as I wander in my time, walk me to the corner, our steps will always rhyme, you know my love goes with you as your love stays with me, it’s just the way it changes, like the shoreline and the sea, but let’s not talk of love or chains and things we can’t untie, your eyes are soft with sorrow, Hey, that’s no way to say goodbye.”

(Thanks Leonard, there is more to you than Hallelujah.)

First up i’d just like to thank you all for all the comments, emails and texts over the last few days, you are all stars. As an update, I’m doing fine…still needing to blog about things so bear with me for just a little while longer, or send me a meme so I can think about something else for a while. Either will do.

Secondly, if you missed it in my last post, my last comment was the 1000th comment on this blog, so go me! Thanks to all of you who have commented over the last year or so, I had no idea people would ever start reading my weird corner of the internets but stick around now you are here! x

Anyways, with the news out the way, today’s blogging topic was to be all about being single; but considering I have only been single for 4 days in the last 9 years, it didn’t seem very appropriate. But then when have I ever shied away from being inappropriate?

(Ok, around my mum, my boss or in church doesn’t count. Although I did once shag my boss in front of a full glass window of a skyscraper in Belfast which isn’t exactly appropriate…ahem)

Even if i’m really not qualified to talk about it, one thing I have realised about being single is that I don’t like it. Yes I know it’s only been 4 days, but come on, being single is fundamentally shit.

Basically:

I have no one who texts me to say ‘good night baby xx’ or ‘good morning honey xx’,
I have no one to email stupid jokes to me all day,
I hate cooking for one person; in fact I can’t cook for one person,
I have no one to go and see shit movies like Transformers with (not a girls film),
The kitten has no one to terrorise but me (or more honestly no one but me to get up at 7 and feed her),
There is no one to take the bins out or pop to the shop for chocolate and fags and wine, and
If I have PMT there is no one to run me a bath, make me a hot chocolate and give me cuddles in bed…

Yeah I am joking about all the superficial shit, but honestly, i’m sulking. I’m drinking and smoking too much and sleeping too little and generally looking bloody awful and puffy. I now have no motivation for exercise as wallowing on the sofa is too desirable. I have greying hair, an expanding middle and I’m 31. Plus my summer holiday has been cancelled and I have to be single at another family party, again.

I’m also extremely horny and my vibrator does not cut it.

See being single is sheee-iiiite.

Is there really light at the end of this tunnel.. ? Is it really this shit? or is the answer just to have a one night stand to get rid of the hornyness (as if im honest thats the biggest problem) and get over it….

Kx

One of the worst parts of the end of a relationship has to be the re-hash. You’ve just got over the humiliation of being suddenly single, when only the night before you had been lovingly singing his praises, and then you have to spend night after night consuming wine with friends dissecting exactly why he did it. And thinking of all the reasons you hadn’t actually thought about…and feeling even more humiliated…and angry.

(Actually, i’m now possibly more angry than humiliated…and I want to rip each of his extremely long eyelashes out….)

(…no man should have eyelashes that obscenely long, I did NOT appreciate them being longer than mine.)

Anyways, why do we do this to ourselves? Why do we feel the need to discuss break ups in minute detail, he said, she said, were you drunk? why, why, god dam why?? To be honest, I would quite liked to have stay oblivious to all the things that might have gone wrong, all the myriad of reasons that it might actually have been my fault, not his. Wouldn’t that be a double humiliation, being dumped because of something you did? Nice.

Maybe it’s just a girl thing, one of the many activities that we bond over; (which also includes lip gloss, willy size and designer shoes…) the relationship dissection is a right of passage, as while it makes you feel 10 times worse, it allows all your friends a smug glow of happiness that their man would not turn out like yours no sir-eee (of course, they nearly always do in some way or an other, so you can eventually get your own back)

(ok, that bit is a joke, dont hit me for suggesting there might be any smugness involved)

(its just me that might have been smug. Once. and i didnt really like her to begin with)

So now, I have to spend a stupid amount of time persuading myself that it’s not my fault, I did not get dumped because of ‘me’ and that I am fabulous.

…and then maybe I might just bitch some more, because bitching (and eyelash pulling) is fun.

Kx

P.s Girls (ok, and guys) why the hell do we do this to ourselves??

Love to me is a two way thing, there cannot be love with out love. If there is no love then there is no love. Its not something that can be measured in degrees.

Cynically, i look at people and think: are you settling, do you realise what love could be? But I don’t think i’m cold hearted, like the female orgasm, i honestly think it’s not just me, I think we all sitting here thinking is that really it? Is that really what love feels like?

I’m in awe of people who have found that mutual ideal. It’s rare and golden and it’s very hard to settle for anything else.

Maybe i’ve become jaded, too realistic, too fatalistic. Maybe I have a weird view of what love should be, but its my view. So when the tough little part of me, lets call it resilience, pops up and gives me a slap to say ‘remember what you believe’, i’m thankful for it. I’m thankful to think that maybe one day i will be sitting here writing a post with a stupefying grin on my face telling you all that i too know how it feels.

Until then i’m not going to sit and wallow in the misery that yet again i haven’t found love.

Kx

P.s am i a love cynic or right? What do you think?

*link here

I haven’t got angry; yet. I could though be be described as a cold fish, but hey, i could also be described as a man in a girls body so its all no big deal. He’s walked away, again, that, i suppose is why i’m writing this post. Although i must admit, i’m drunk, so its coming out slowly and with plenty of spelling mistakes (thank god for spell checker, its my life line tonight).

I’ve had enough platitudes for the evening, the way of the world is to get dumped, get drunk, get over it; so that is philosophy i’m following. A night out with some male friends was a good tonic.

Life goes on, so hey, what now, what is there for me? Do i get my short skirt and heals back on, get out there and have some ‘fun’ with inappropriate men and more inappropriate 30 year old women who think tits and ass is appropriate dress. And then there is the men that want that kind of woman.

I am not that kind of woman.

I cant be that kind of woman.

I am not that kind of woman, i’m not high maintenance, i do boy behaviour, i do obsessive sex that eventually fades to nothing, i do football chat, i do sci-fi, i do what ever the hell you challenge me to do, i do drinking till we all cant stand. I don’t do preening, awkward behaviour, hair flicking. But i do do 4 inch heals, gorgeous, glamorous girl.

I am a contradiction.

Maybe i should be high maintenance but i am not.

One day ill find the man who doesn’t give a shit about what i am and what i am not.

One day ill be fucking happy.

… two weeks ago, the lovely people at Visit Copenhagen.com invited the Boy (and lucky me) to visit for the weekend to do a ’48 hours in… ‘ feature for the Magazine he works for.

Yes we got FREE flights, FREE accommodation in the 4 Star Kong Arthur Hotel and a FREE Copenhagen Travel and Attraction Card. In our defence, It was ‘work’, it was the weekend before my birthday and the one after our first anniversary, so we deserved it…anyways, all the free stuff needed because this has to be one of the most expensive cities in the world…and that includes London and Tokyo…well for booze that is, and if you are a regular reader then you’ll know I love my booze….Anyways, I’m rambling again my reaction?

Copenhagen is ‘Cool’, the Danes are ‘Very Cool’.

Capital letters on the ‘Cool’ are a must; this is no longer the home of the stereotypical Viking Dane. Copenhagen today is all about style and function and efficiency and correctness (Dane’s even scowl at you if you cross the road when there is no traffic coming!), everything is clean, and works, and on time; Copenhagen is Scandinavian efficiency in over drive.

But, this is as far from the Ikea vision of Scandinavia as you can get. Whilst the Danes may love their skinny jeans and nonchantly thrown scarves, nothing is identikit in this quirky city.

For shopping, the is Edith and Ella selling 20s, 30s and 40s inspired clothes, where i bought a coat or Quirki Monki (ok, its Swedish, but we’ll ignore that) where there are no prices on anything or mannequins as they think you should out outfits together how you want not how they tell you to… or for more mainstream fashion Copenhagen has the longest shopping street in Europe with about 5 H&Ms down its length (plus Topshop and Urban Outfitters too!).

Café culture in Copenhagen is a way of life and the quirkyness doesn’t stop at the shops. One of the best bars in the city was right round the corner from out hotel… Cafe Bankeraat is stuffed to the gills with well stuffed animals and freaky displays… photo below of what greets you on the way to the loos…! The burgers are well worth a little fright, if you can get over the £15 price tag that is!

….and then there was the booze…and here the transformation from the Viking with his yard of ale can be seen the best, instead of bierhalls, Copenhagen has style bars aplenty. Good spots to take your Prada handbag are the Cuban Barbarellah for Mojitos or the super stylish K-Bar (just watch out for the bar bill!) for more cocktails.

Once your hangover has passed (try the smorsmaborg – open sandwiches – for lunch) check out the Copenhagen Zoo, with the new elephant house designed by our Norman Foster. to see the happiest elephants you’ll ever see; take in some history and Viking swords at the National Museum and of course for all us children out there, we visited the historic Tivoli Gardens with its rides and singing and dancing and generally far too crazy for our English sensibilities school children.. (Btw all of the above are free with your CHP card).

But the best bit of the weekend for me? Standing in the main square watching Denmark V Sweden with out 11kr cans of Carlsberg, dodging flares and fireworks and frisbies and balloons as Denmark scored to win! The madness after was well worth the trip alone to watch Danes in full party mode, they do let down the ‘coolness’ occasionally!

So, while the Boy will write this up better than I can, I can say that Copenhagen is perfect for 48 hours, but be prepared to spend through the nose to do it..

Photos in the gallery below

As I now have photos downloaded from my weekend in Copenhagen, im putting together a post for that, but i just wanted to do a quick celebratory update post….

If you haven’t spotted it in the comments of the last post, yesterday I received confirmation that I am getting 90% funding to go back to Uni to do a Master of Science in Climate Change: Impacts and Mitigation. This will be part time, one day a week, whilst I work.

I must be crazy, but its all about the future baby.

(Im talking money here, i may be slightly too much of a cynic to do this course…)

The Boy is also a part time undergrad student (while working too) and he just got his third year results – 70s all round, so he’s on for a first.. im so proud of him.

Anyways, back soon with some photos of my trip!

Kx

P.s Hangovers all round tomorrow, the hobbying can wait til next week!