There Are No Stars

Two posts in one day? What madness is this?

Do you believe in signs?

Signs from the universe?

I do. Rarely. But I do. And tonight, I got a sign.

I've told you before that I love the beach here and the wide expanse of the ocean. I go there to think about stuff and it's where most of my great realisations occur. Of which there are many. And one of the times I was at the beach a couple of months ago, I texted LB asking if he wanted to come. I then used my excellent persuasive skills to tell him that 'there's stars and shit' which would of course further his desire to come to the beach. I have done this every time I've gone to the beach since then.

I wrote an obviously hilarious post about it here. It also turned out to be the first time we had sex. Ah, how time flies when you're having your heart wrenched about by a bastard law student.

I texted him the same thing on Bonfire Night. Practically the entire city had turned up to watch the fireworks from the beach. Bloody love fireworks. And Bonfire Night in particular. I remember last year when I was still living at halls and everyone was all bundled up in scarves and winter coats (because Aberdeen is as sodding cold as a snowman's arse) and we all walked down together. And as we walked down to the beach, everyone else was going too - families and friends and couples - all as cosied up as we were. It brought a lump to my throat. Because I am a soppy cow. It was the same this year. I think Bonfire Night is fast becoming my favourite day of the year. When we got to the beach this year, I saw LB. He didn't see me so I texted him saying 'there's stars and shit'. Because I am hilarious. He replied saying he was here. I was like, for once. And then as the fireworks began, I got a text from him saying; 'there's fireworks and shit'. Is it just me overthinking it or was I right to get ridiculously happy from that text? God, fireworks make me cry.

Anyway. Earlier this evening, I had gotten crazy mad at him. Not physically at him or over the phone at him - he has no idea I'm mad. No, I got mad at him by getting mad at myself. Basically, I went on his Facebook page and saw he'd changed his cover photo at the start of the month. He'd changed it to a table and chairs laid out in what looked very much like a date set up for two. There was even wine glasses and a bottle.

This got me mad. I started thinking wildly that maybe he was actually dating someone right now. I mean, sharing a man when it's only sex is fine by me. Sharing a man when it's dating is not. I would hate to be the girl he might  be dating and finding out that he's also been having sex with me and who knows how many others. Whether this is true or not, I have no idea. I'm mad. Shut up.

So I did what I usually do when mad. I went to the beach. Loud music on the way there, mainly this:

And this:

And then headphones out as soon as I catch sight of the waves. Because tonight, they were doing proper good wave things. It was all thunder-y and awesome. So I stood and watched the waves for a while. And as I did so, I looked up to the sky as usual.

It was cloudy and a heavy mist was starting to spread across the water and surround the lamp posts behind me. As I sat there, there was a huge rumbling noise - I guess a chorus of the waves, an aeroplane and the massive oil boat moving from the harbour. And I sat there in the wind with the mist and the rumbling and realised:

There are no stars.

On a night when I was so unbelievably angry at Sean and had gone to my favourite place, that very favourite place was telling me something. It was telling me that there was no point. That there were no stars left here. There were - there definitely had been stars a few weeks ago, but now there was nothing. No stars.

Having already deleted him as a friend on Facebook before I left (and forcefully thrown his jumper across my room), I deleted his conversation thread from my texts but then I wavered at deleting his number.

I started thinking to myself, what if he texts me asking if I was going out or if I was around? Then I wouldn't know who it was. What if that's my chance and I miss it?

I put my headphones back in on my way home to be greeted with this:

So you'll understand why I still haven't deleted his number. I'm not as angry any more. I know exactly how much pain each day will add on. And I know that the signs were right. Maybe not now, but at some point in the very near future, he will turn to me and end this. Whatever 'this' is. I just hope to hell it's not because he's started seeing someone. Not someone else. Just someone. Someone luckier than me?



His jumper is still crumpled up in the corner of my room.

Undesirable No. 1

I have a confession.

I feel like shit.

Not just because I am desperately trying to stave off a cold and am popping paracetamol and vitamin C tablets like there's no tomorrow. No, I feel like shit appearance wise. Namely my face. Yeah my face sucks balls right now. Not literally. Ish.

I think I have had clear skin about twice this year. Each time lasting about a week. Then the dreaded blemishes start appearing. And I have tried everything. I've been on antibiotics, I've bought The Body Shop out of tea tree oil, I've bought La Roche Posay's super-acne-fighting-skin-saving-pixie-dust-making trio of products, I've tried crazy expensive products (sample size obvs, I am a reasonably poor student) and fuck all has worked. Fuck. All.

And it pisses me off. I don't usually wear that much make up but say on a night out, I'll shove a bunch of the stuff on. The lighting in da clubs is not the most flattering to say the least. But foundation and concealer will stick to the spots and make them even more obvious and dried out. And frankly, it just looks disgusting. 

And when you have clear skin, you feel so much more attractive. You don't really think about it when you have spot-less skin as you'll be fixating on something else wrong with you - we all do it. But once that clear skin is a distant memory, you'll wonder why you never woke up every day like, fuck yeah my face is as smooth as a baby's arse. 

Really, I feel like this:

(Any excuse for Harry Potter. Not even sorry).

Because yes, I like to look nice. Not just for myself but for other people. And sometimes, if I'm having a bad day, I appreciate a double take from a person on the street. I feel this is a tricky subject to approach but I'm just going to bosh on. My blog, my rules.

I am 6ft tall. I get looks. Usually from my face to my feet to make sure I'm not wearing heels. And I like these looks (that come from both men and women I hasten to add). Anybody would. But I hate them when I have a horrible blemished face. My self esteem (which is low at the best of times) just plummets. 

And when I do go out of a night with intentions to snare some unwitting male, I don't want to be worrying about my face scaring them off. I'd rather be worried about my dress riding up or falling off my, albeit very low, heels. Does this make sense? I don't think this makes sense.

At work on Sunday, I went without foundation or concealer and just played up my eyes to try and distract from my skin. One of my regular customers asked if there was something wrong with my face and had I been in a fight? It wasn't Tall Australian thankfully. He's a gentleman. 

Basically, what I'm saying is I just spent £50 on all natural skincare in a last ditch attempt to clean up my face. Although I did just come across this blog post from The Beauty Gypsy which I think sounds like a very scientific method and therefore must work and I should most definitely try it. Ahem:

Why sex is good for your skin. And hair. AND it’s all backed by science!

Anyway, I shall keep my spotty chin up and of course keep you updated on the progress of my skin. I know you're all dying to be kept in the loop. And you know you'll be informed if  The Beauty Gypsy's method works. If you have any tips, I would love to hear them. I am slowly going insane every time another blemish appears. Now let's go find me a Lawyer Boy...

Fairly Odd Bumblefuckery

I have some very sad news.

The tall, handsome Australian who comes into the shop on a Sunday has a wife.

I think.

Have I mentioned Tall Australian before? I don't think I have. He's about 35 (age is but a number), always comes to look at the books (men who unashamedly read are my favourite) and we were going to be together forever and ever (planning a June wedding). But obviously now we're not.

In other news, I have none.

Nothing.

I had not heard from LB in 3 days until I texted him last night. And I was being so good at being cool and aloof for those 3 days. I don't get it though. Aren't people supposed to text each other every day? This was news to me. I'd asked one of the girls in my Lain class (aren't a pretentious intellectual twat) what I should do because he hadn't texted me in 3 days and she was like, Nancy that's nothing, that's fine.

And she should know. She's married. She is the first of my friends to be married. She's 21. It very much scares me. Not that I have a problem with people getting married young, that doesn't phase me at all. No it just scares me that they are mature enough to do so. I mean, you have to be pretty mature to make such a commitment to one person for the rest of your life?

I asked her if it scared her that she'd only ever be with this one person as the thought terrifies me. Instead, she said she was excited. Excited to spend all this time with him. They've been married for about a year and a half and had dated since she was 17.  I have immense respect for her. I can really see she just unashamedly loves him - and is in love with him. She also has a Harry Potter tattoo which is why I spoke to her in the first place.

I think that's what I'm a bit worried about - being in love with someone. When I dated Troy, I loved him. I knew I loved him as soon as I broke up with him. But it was the love that was just like deeply caring for someone. I don't want to say I loved him like a brother or anything, mainly because I have no siblings and anyone I know with brothers detest them, but I loved him.

I was round at his the other night because he had pizza and we were going to watch Lord of the Rings because to his utter dismay I have never seen it. And honestly, I could definitely be in a relationship with him again. I haven't told any of my friends this because they'd immediately be all, NOOOOOOOOO YOU DON'T NOOOOOOO etc. But I'm not saying I want to be with him again - not at all. Just that we work well together. He once said we're a bit like Cosmo and Wanda which insulted me for a bit because I always thought Wanda was a bit of a dick to Cosmo who was fucking awesome. But to be fair, it was a pretty damn good comparison.

If you idea who I am talking about, please take this time to educate yourself you uncultured swine:

Anyway, as I've said before somewhere probably, the reason I broke up with Troy was because I wasn't attracted to him. I couldn't sleep with him. I feel slightly weird writing that straight after Fairly Odd Parents videos.

Which brings us back to LB - I am attracted to him. But doubt I could be in a relationship with him - not that it's going in that direction in the slightest - because he's an arse. But an arse I appear to have fallen for slightly. Does that mean there's a possibility that I could in the future, be in love with him? Hm. Let's hope not.

Not even going to ask what I should do here as I am well aware I am just sitting in limbo with him. Ho hum. 

Please tell me some of you remember Fairly Odd Parents? It's not just me right? I'm not old yet?

Back To Reality Please Thank You

He's going to fuck me over.

I know it and I'm wavering.

Let's go back to my overjoyed last post.

So for Halloween, I always go slutty. I can't help it. I forget to think of a costume until a few days before and by then I have no money so I have to work with what I've got in my wardrobe and a super quick eBay order. One day I'll have planned ahead enough to go as something hilarious,

This year, I was a ringmaster - heeled boots, short shorts and black vest top already owned. Top hat and red jacket super quick eBay purchases. Cane from Flatmate's box of kinky shit. Nailed it.

Flatmate Number 1 and I went out on an impromptu bar crawl along Belmont Street and got wonderfully drunker than we meant to. We ended up at her favourite pub with all her scary-but-lovely punk friends. I had been texting LB all night (mainly about how hot I looked. I have no shame) and he eventually came to pick me up from the pub. I've phrased that wrongly. It sounded like I forced him to come get me - this was of his own accord!

So we walked back to his and the rest of the night is a bit of a blur. All I do remember is making him add me on Facebook so I could stalk his photos (he warned me that they were all just photos of him and various girls and holy fuck they were. It was ridiculous. Tiny Hippie Friend and I had a Skype stalking session last night) and also him telling me that yes, he like liked me.

I shall repeat: Him telling me that yes, he like liked me.

Cue excited last post.

Now there was no way I could misread(hear) that. Especially since he added 'but there's no point as I'm only here for another 9 months or so.' Which sounds like he was debating being in a Thing with me but realising it couldn't go long term. Right? RIGHT? Please tell me I'm not going insane. That definitely sounds like that. RIGHT??

Anyway, after a horrific walk of shame  stride of pride home (I was wearing his jumper so I didn't look like an absolute whore walking home but still managed to cheer people up with the knowledge that they weren't me. Talking to you woman in hairdressers who just stood at the window with a cup of coffee watching and laughing), I had to go to work.

The next day, he came round.

I'd asked him - being of 6'7" height - to come and take down my fairy lights because I couldn't reach. I mean, I technically could reach considering I was the one to put them up but it was a bit of a stretch... Anyway he got them down in 2 minutes whereas it would've taken me at least 20.

And he stayed till morning. And we talked. Whilst being sober. A bit of an unusual experience for me but there you go, first time for everything.

And I've realised that he is a bit of a dick.

And will therefore fuck me over.

Because despite the whole 'like liking' incident, I am very much certain that there will be another girl that he has given that impression to. And another on top of that. Not literally on top. Unless he was in some sort of threesome and told them both at the same time. Which is poor taste if you ask me.

He said his friend had described him as 'a posh cunt but a nice guy' and I can see that. He is extremely arrogant. He knows exactly what he's doing. He is well aware of the effect he has.

And there was a point when I could have genuinely stopped this. If I had asked him to leave at that moment, I could have been done with all of this. Yes, I would have been a bit miserable for a few days and 'what iffed' for a while but I would eventually have been done with him and moved on.

But of course I didn't do that.

I would like to point out that I didn't do that knowing full well what the consequences would be. This 'thing' would continue for a while longer - maybe until the end of the year - and all of a sudden he'd have a girlfriend or he'd just stop talking to me or he would do something that would leave me heartbroken and feeling like a first class twat.

So why did I do this? Is it because I didn't learn from TGI? Is it because I am seeing him through rose coloured glasses? Am I being a compete idiot again?

No.

TGI was a different type of dick. He didn't pretend. He didn't pretend that our 'thing' was anything special, that I was anything special. He didn't give me any bullshit and it was my fault that I got too reliant on him.

LB is the worst kind of dick. He will make you feel special and like you are the only one. He will make you feel this whilst practically admitting to your face that you are not the only one and in fact he will probably be going home to fuck his flatmate or one of the many other girls in his Facebook pictures.

Am I being a compete idiot again? Yes. But an idiot who is the worst kind of idiot. And idiot who knows exactly what she's getting into and how it will end. A self destructive idiot. But I'm glad I've realised this. It won't make it any easier or any less painful when the time comes but hopefully I can put on a brave face on the outside so he won't know he's hurt me.

I realise how unbelievably ridiculous this sounds. You're preparing yourself for the inevitable end and heartbreak? Why even bother?

That's what I don't know. I don't know why I'm bothering.

Does anyone know? Has this happened before to anyone? Is the overwhelming majority in the favour that I should stop this right now and get my head on straight?

I genuinely do need your help.

HE LIKES ME! LIKE, LIKE LIKES ME!

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!