My friend “F” made this for me the other day. Makes me feel slightly less sad.
My friend “F” made this for me the other day. Makes me feel slightly less sad.
Okie dokes. Where to start today? Difficult I’ll admit. Well. It’s a beautiful and sunny day here, and it can only put a spring in your step and a smile on your face. But, I shall talk today about something darker… what happens when you drink that golden nectar we all call beer (or for me, cider).
Today will continue from the last two I believe, but I can assure you, will be the last on the subject. Why you may say? Ah ha, I suppose like every good fairy tale, it has an ending! But not surprisingly (well for moi at least) not the ending you would desire. But that ladies and gentleman is not a shock, I mean come on, this is Roxy, everyone best friend! The last to be picked for sport etc! But, hey I’m not sad about that, I suppose you get used to that kinda shite anyway.
So, I’m feeling lazy and tired of all the shit to do with life, so I’ll be brief. Some friends of mine and I decided to do a onesie night and visit a few bars. We had copious amounts of gin at my flat, then headed to town. Now, we were very very hammered, so I feel like this probably explains why I went bat-shit crazy after (which for the people that know me, know I don’t do stuff like this, so yeah. Not my usual self!). We spend about two hours in bar C, and we left because there was live music, and I’m afraid to say we did not enjoy it! We then decided to go to bar MP. Mistake my friends would say, I on the other hand think with hindsight this was the only way, because visibly he didn’t have the balls to tell me, and I don’t want to live in wonder land (what pisses me off, is that I didn’t think he was a shit, I mean sure, I knew the guy had baggage (don’t we all?) but I swear I didn’t think he was this much of a heartless git. You will understand after, but holy fuck, I would have loved to say my own damn face, but anyway…) so I suppose at least I was… sure of his intentions (which to clarify here, is to clearly fuck me, lie and lie again, so super dooper Roxy!).
Anyway, so we all walk in, you could hardly miss us, because… I was dressed as a skeleton, one of my mates was a rabbit and the other one the cookie monster… so yeah. It’s not like we could “blend in”. Everyone in the bar was clapping and stuff, so they thought it was funny. We ordered a few pints and sat down. T’s mates came over and said hello (oh yeah, I forgot to say, dickface, or Mr T, was already there, but I ignored him, because, well he’s a big boy, if he wants to say hello he can, I don’t bite.) We had a few laughs… etc etc… I turn my face, and he is literally eating this girls face. I swear to you, all class went out the window, bit… sad really, I mean… seriously I think we are all old enough to know that PDA is a bit sad. Anyway. So, you are wondering what is going through my mind. Ah ha!!!! Well I was like, holy fuck, the dick. Ok fine. At least he’s made his choice, but didn’t have the balls to tell me. Okie dokes. Fine. I shall just enjoy my night anyway.
This is why I’m not totally sad about the whole thing, is because I have friends who love me and will defend me. One of my greatest friends screams “OI, T YOU FUCKING CUNT” across the bar. God Knows if he heard but hot damn does that make you feel good! This is when it gets funny, funny for me, definitely not for him. Now, I’ll remind you, I have never EVER done this, but as I saw him go to the lavatory, I shout “Oi. Dick head.” He pops his head up, and acts… mmm a mix between, drunk, surprised… and shock? No wait… shy… yeah he really hasn’t got balls… never thought about that. Oh well, (that said I usually go for shy guys but hey, maybe I should change hey?) I then (now I have got his attention) to shout something along the lines of, you piece of shit go fuck yourself. I can’t say I remember anyway. He then shuffles off.
I didn’t realise one of his mates heard and asked my friend C, what was wrong with me, she gave him an abbreviated version. (I found out the next day that he wasn’t aware of anything, so I’m thinking they can’t be THAT close. Oops. He said to C something along the lines of, oh well that’s probably girl A (in other words… well he’s got so many girls begging to date him that he has to class them, plan A, plan B…). Now, for people who know me, I have big issues with myself, my family etc but fuck me if I am going to be made to feel like a worthless pile of crap because a guy thinks I’m not good enough for him. So, even though I would of course want to see him again and all that jazz, for respect for myself etc, I can’t. I just can’t. I just hope he finds happiness. Or at least learns not to treat women like shite (although who knows, he may have made a special exception for me and decided to treat JUST me like shit! Who knows).
The thing is, in all seriousness, I don’t wish him ill. I really hope, he sorts himself out, maybe see a Psychologist or something. He has deep rooted problems, he doesn’t seem happy. Now visibly, I wasn’t the girl to help him, but maybe someone else will… but falling into another relationship… would just be a band aid… you can’t be happy with someone if you can’t be happy with yourself. I can attest to that, because I know how much I hate myself. I know why I hate myself, and yet I get up every day and try to be ok. I put on my mask and smile. The thing is, he likes wallowing in his own mess, that he thinks he’s the only one who feels the way he does. That’s called despair, and all I can say, is that everyone feels like that once in a while. So who knows what adventure lies on the other side, but if you don’t try, you can’t find out. As for me, oh well, it’s a shame, I really like like him, but what doesn’t kill you, makes you stronger (argh, did I just quote Kanye West? Well… it WAS an expression before he made a shitty song) So… I’ll put that down to experience, and hope that one day it’s my turn for a great guy and a super relationship… or whatever! Until then, I shall… paint, draw, drink, laugh and cry! xxx
I’ve been wondering lately, while looking around my slightly messier room than normal, the state of my fridge (nothing buy old pasta and apples), my un-hoovered carpets and the alarming amount of un-clean washing up in the sink : are our outsides our insides? Or is it the complete opposite?
Fine. I’ll explain. When I’m feeling in super cooper shape, happy go lucky weirdo mood : my flat is super clean and tiny. You could probably fry an egg on my toilet seat while stirring the pan with the toilet brush… right now… I’m feeling a bit shite and lost… god knows why, well I know why, but I shouldn’t. I’m amazing. But whatever. Want to know what my flat looks like? Argh. Messy and disorganised. Just like my head. So, the question really is, am I sad, thus my interior reflects that… or is it because my flat looks like a pigsty that I then become depressed? Mmmm… hard to tell. Some people I know, live in the dirtiest hovels you could think of… but they are happy great people, so I guess it doesn’t bother everyone. Maybe I’m one of those tidy freaks you hear about in bad pilot episodes of cancelled shows… “clean freak” (except that if you knew my views on cleaning floors you’d die… ok ok fine, I’ll tell you. Fucking hate it. I prefer doing any other chore, but hoovering, cleaning the floor… is just horrible… the should try that at Guantanamo for inmates. They would crack in no time. I’ll tell you anything you want to know in exchange to not having to mop up the floor I swear). So it’s definitely not a “cleanos” house here… but I do like clean sheets and a tidy room that doesn’t smell of an ashtray (I live in France, people smoke at my parties!) and BO. Thats said, just last night a friend of mine B, told me they thought I smelt delicious and when I asked why… I was told I had a “roxy smell”… so I smell of myself but you can describe it? Okie domes. Strange.
I’m feeling tired, but I’ll finish this (feeling sad and shit makes you tired, probably a good thing, my diet had been going great, I have stopped eating during the day).
Anyway, the question is still open… if your interior looks like crap, is the person “sad/depressed etc.” or is that just a personal trait (dirty/messy etc.)… mmmm….
I have to say, I am feeling rather on the apathetic side today, but I shall stroll through that part of my brain, and go straight to the... Roxy, you are dead cringe now. You're 24. Stop acting like a 12 year old who has a crush on one of the Westlife fellas (can't believe I just wrote "fellas". I will admit, it seems the kind of word that sits quite well next to the band Westlife). Anyway. I have a crush. I know. Shock Horror. Me. Me? Yes. Yes I know. Me. The cringe factor is that I am really shy when it comes to my feelings. I think I don't like really telling people how I feel about a person (whether in a friendly or in a "I like you where it smells funny" kind of like (to quote the Bloodhound Gang (first time they have probably EVER been quoted to be honest anyway)). In any case, I don't know the guy per say (he's in my school, 4th year student... and before you start shouting ERRRRR OLDER MAN... I'm the same age as him, I just had to do 2 degrees first), but he did give me a tour of the school (ok, not personally... but well, it felt like it). He isn't really my type (if I were to define my type anyway) but he has something about him which I find... intriguing? (now I feel like I'm in a Jane Austin book... swoon swoon... (argh)) but to be honest, I feel that really he is hot hot hot... and fuck it, yes I'm going to say it. He's hot with two t's. Usher had it right. It's "hott" in here. I'm not going to say anything about him, safe to say he probably has no idea I exist, and I am actually capable to changing direction in order to avoid him (see, told you. This is the reaction of a 12 year old). Unless I am super drunk, and let's be honest, I am never really drunk... I probably won't say anything. I've only ever asked one guy out... didn't turn out great (I'll briefly mention that he is not talking to me at the moment... I think he's too embarrassed. This is a guy we will call X (original? Yes I think so!) (i digress sorry), all my friends think he is super weird and dodgy (but we have been friends for 5 years on and off, he pisses me off). And we have messed around, but I'm not like that. So yeah. Anyway, never liked him, started to have feelings and he started to be weird. My friends personally feel he's chicken. Or doesn't know what he wants. Well I ain't gunna wait!)
So back to super sexy guy from my school (I say school, I mean art school, for adults. You know. Real humans). I haven't seen him in over a week. i think he's either dead, or hibernating. Which, if it's the latter, sucks because winter is a good excuse to get naked inside with someone... but if he is going to be sleeping all winter, not only is my winter gunna suck (I mean even if i never get to see the inside of his bedroom, I would still like to openly drool in his direction from time to time, but hiding behind a cleverly disguised Jane Austin fan... duh!) But, if he does hibernate all winter, then come spring, he will be one horny little sexpot... but he might jump on any skinny french girl and then I'd be dumb. So... I'm thinking of hatching a plan. Except. That isn't me. So... I think I'll just continue my passive aggressiveness and ignore him, and continue my quest for eternal celibacy. If I'm still single in a year, I'll join either a nunnery... or a bordello. I'm betting on the nunnery.
What is truly depressing, is that all my friends have the same discourse of "you are amazing, super cool, bright... I don't know why you're single". Seriously? Last week I even got a "If I were a guy, I would so go out with you". Really? Well. Fuck me oh riley. I'm not looking for prince charming, I'm looking for a guy who has a brain, a sense of humour, can drink a beer, laugh with my friends, and find the right words for me". Now I'm not saying he has to be gorgeous, I tend to go for guys who look "different". But come on, God, don't send me any really obese guys. A little tummy, I'm cool with. A ridiculous hipster moustache? Fine; I'll deal. A guy who cross-dresses on weekends? Fine. Whatever. But holy fuck. Why, why... WHY am I alone?
I don't say this while slashing my wrists, I'm not depressed... I am seriously questioning myself. I want to know. I personally think it's because I'm too much to handle. Guys can't take a girl who doesn't take shit from no one, speaks her mind and is generally a eccentric funky person. But at 24 I still have hope. (I say 24... but it's nearly my birthday! Christmas baby everyone!). How long should I wait until signing my death warrant? Or join a covent? (I can totally rhyme!)
25? 27? 50?
I might have to join an online wedding site. You know like in Russia. I'd be doing it legally too, I mean i already have 2 passports, so I don't even need to pretend to marry some guy just for a European passport, because I have two. That said, if it ends up like in the movies, I'll either be married to a heavily obese farmer... or a axe wielding murderer. I think I'll choose the murdering fuck-head. I'm pretty sure he'd make it a fast death. Or maybe like in Reservoir Dogs, he'll cut one of my ears off (which, i'd then go for the fat farmer, I'll just roll him over with the tractor, or fill his gullet with boiled eggs. Fat bastard probably wouldn't even choke. Probably slowly chew each one and ask for more).
Still. Need a plan. Mmmmm fuck it. I'm gunna flash the sexy guy from school (by the way, totally found him on Facebook... the guy has two youtube accounts as well, so I can perv on him from the comfort of my own flat... Now I sound weird).
Logging off. Need to make eggs. (I joke. It will be hot chocolate (no lactose, it will be soy)).
p.s. If the sexy guy from my school, in 4th year happens to pass by and read this (which is doubt, come on... he has never spoken to me)... I'm not a sociopath. I am just very shy and scared of making any decisions that will hurt me).
I know. It’s been a while since I last wrote. But for my defence I’ve been busy (no really). Anyway, lately I’ve been listening to a lot of country music, and yes I realise it is a sort of cliché (broken hearts, star crossed lovers and the whole “unrequited love” bollocks that you will find in most music genres, but you can deny is most prevalent in the country scene)… but I don’t care. It is still better than listening to techno while nursing a migraine.
You can’t listen to Country music without talking about the famous Dolly Parton (now with her own theme park, I kid you not. It’s called (surprise surprise) Dollyville). I started by listening to Islands in the stream, which is really a great song and the lyrics are really quite good (of course, me behind my computer mending a sort of heart/brain problem, it just made me a but jealous but hey, I can’t call Dolly a bitch can I? Nope.
Here’s the lyrics (at the end), and look closely, that guy really loves her, they’re making “love” and everything. Bitch (sorry Dolly). But it really goes to show that she was really putting herself out there, Carrie Bradshaw? Per-lease, Dolly was shouting all over the world in the 80’s how much she loved her man and that she enjoyed sex. Wonderful. And a mere 20 years later, Carrie was sitting with her friends talking about anal and blow-jobs! So passé my dear, come back and talk about making love, that’s the new BJ of the 21st century. You can’t get away with saying “making love” anymore! I say that, and I’ll be neutered on the spot!
So after Islands in the stream, I went to Jolene. If you can believe it, even better. Now personally, I don’t care for the name of Jolene. I’m not american, and to be honest, I don’t know anyone by the name of Jolene in any case. But hey, I didn’t write the song (if it had been me, I’d called it something like… Pauline… works too!). I’ll put the whole lyrics at the end, but listen to this bit (and yes, this is getting more personal, even though I know this PERSON doesn’t read my blog, know of its existence or even read English, but yes I’m talking about you BIACH!)… “Jolene, jolene, jolene, jolene, Im begging of you please don’t take my man”… now I love this line, genius… that said if it was more I wouldn’t say please and I wouldn’t beg either, but hey Dolly’s a far more polite person that myself. She then writes “Please don’t take him just because you can”, and yes I agree, just because you can, don’t. Keep your legs crossed, and sometimes damn it, leave some of the other girls get a guy! This reminds me of a female friend of mine who’s having “boyfriend trouble” (even though in my opinion she is taking everything out of proportion and should wait and see, whatever, I’m happy I’m single (only in the situation though)). She has had… how should I put it, discrepancies in the past (dating guys who were already with girls etc), and I wonder if she is afraid her lover will do the same… the past always comes to bite you in the derrière at some point!) – or is that Karma? Anyway, love that line. She then goes on to say “And I cannot compete with you, jolene”. Now, I am definitely not the most confidant person in the world, but I can’t say she is selling herself short here… that said, I can’t deny that I have felt (and drunkenly said) the same thing. So you go girl, Dolly you’re perfect! At least Dolly’s showing a bit of humility, Jesus, I don’t think I have ever heard Carrie say she has doubts about her physique. She’s always prancing about like some prepubescent girl (I’m not saying I hate Sex and the City, I love it (except the second movie, bad choice… Abu Dhabi… really?)) but seriously she’s far from perfect, she has pretty anorexic arms! And lastly she says “You could have your choice of men, But I could never love again, He’s the only one for me, jolene”. Oh come on, you out there with your hearts of stone, isn’t that just lovely? Now, I don’t know how I feel about a certain someone (so complicated), but I can understand the feeling. No one wants to hear “there are plenty of fish in the sea”, argh. Please. That’s like saying there’s a lot of letters in a can of Alphabetti-Spaghetti. We know. We don’t need whooshing generalities. That said, everyone wants to feel special, and to steal a phrase from old Carrie herself, everyone likes the think that in our life, we have “one great love”. Now, when they come, if they don’t last long, or the passion blows out faster than expected… everyone should have at least one! (and this is where I insert a personal note here, “Ahem. Hello God, person out there, almighty power (or Powa is your Asian or a teenage girl), Karma, Yahveh, ‘ilah, Allah, Elohim… whatever, Dude, come on, through me a bone (not a real one please, I’m not a dog), send me something. A guy I can spend a bit of time with, without being fucked about with, playing with my emotions. He doesn’t even have to be the sexiest, or have good taste, look he doesn’t even have to be that intelligent (nothing under 160 IQ ok? Be cool.)… I’m not saying that I’m desperate, or that I’ll take anything… but I’m starting to think it’s me, not guys (even though my parents keep on reassuring me).
That’s it. So ladies (and gentlemen if you are out there and are still reading)… be happy in your own skin, beat the shit out of any boy stealing hag, and believe that you will love again, even after heartbreak (marzipan chocolate helps, i promise).
Islands in the stream
That is what we are
No one in-between
How can we be wrong
Sail away with me to another world
And we rely on each other, ah-ah
From one lover to another, ah-ah
I can’t live without you if the love was gone
Everything is nothin if you got no one
And you did walk in tonight
Slowly loosen sight of the real thing
But that wont happen to us and we got no doubt
Too deep in love and we got no way out
And the message is clear
This could be the year for the real thing
No more will you cry
Baby, I will hurt you never
We start and end as one, in love forever
We can ride it together, ah-ah
Makin love with each other, ah-ah
Oh, come sail away with me
He talks about you in his sleep
There’s nothing I can do to keep
From crying when he calls your name, jolene
And I can easily understand
How you could easily take my man
But you don’t know what he means to me, jolene
Jolene, jolene, jolene, jolene
Im begging of you please don’t take my man
Jolene, jolene, jolene, jolene
Please don’t take him just because you can
You could have your choice of men
But I could never love again
Hes the only one for me, jolene
I had to have this talk with you
My happiness depends on you
And whatever you decide to do, jolene
Jolene, jolene, jolene, jolene
Im begging of you please don’t take my man
Jolene, jolene, jolene, jolene
Please don’t take him even though you can
This post, has nothing to do with the KKK… but everything to do with the FFF. If you do not know what the FFF is… I am not surprised… I just invented it… but it is a way of explaining a new social change. You don’t understand? Ok… ok… I’ll explain.
Lately, and when I say lately… I mean in the last few years since sexuality became a “boring occurrence” in our/my everyday life (in other words, since sex isn’t a word that one whispers into your ear like a dirty joke or the name of the school bully). Sex has become, at least for me, something I son’t actually talk about with my friend anymore. I was actually talking about this with a friend last week while I was in London… when we are all just having sex, it was all “omg he did this… and did you know… and it was so big/small…” etc… now… everyone you know, has pretty much already done it and it is no longer a measure of “coolness” (I shudder that this was a big part of whether or not someone was loser or not…ohhhhh childhood!). Anyway, I’m getting sidetracked. I have noticed that people… are either already in long term relationships… or are dating friends of friends.
You find this normal? You don’t understand? Ok… I’ll explain.
I have a very close friend of mine (female) who is one of those girls who you can just let everything just hang out, you know? We are just comfortable together. Anyway, she has an older brother who (and it feels like a million years ago… but it is in fact probably nine years ago) I had a crush on. Although, if I think about it, I think it was probably because he was nice to me, not because I was attracted to him (and anyway, I was fourteen… everyone has a cringe crush when they are that young!). So, we are chatting and she tell me that a friend of mine (female) who I introduced to them about two months ago, went out with her brother (a friend but not close). Now… some will jump to the conclusion that I am jealous… and holy jesus mother of god am I not… I am… surprised (and it always comes back to me, of course). Why?
Well… I am actually surprised because this always happens to me. I can hear you screaming through the computer what this has to do with me, apart that they are my friends, but it is actually more than that. This is like the millionth time (ok fine, probably nearer three or four times) that I have introduced two people from two different social groups of mine and they have “hooked up”! And this time it is even more… irritating because my female friend is one of my closest friends… why? Because this girl… is the girl that everyone fancies!!! No… really… every time we go out together for a drink… or go to a party… or whatever… all the guys flock to her… and I am always… the “cool funny girl” or as I refer to it “everyone’s best friend”. I am going to be single for ever (and this is why I said it always comes back to myself). It’s not the person she is with that irritates me, or that she has found someone (I am always happy when a friend has found love or a semblance of it) but it is just ridiculous that I have got friends who are all dating each other… and yet no one introduces me to guys… as I write I can feel myself getting more and more bitter… but I don’t really think I am… I think I am becoming Cilla Black, that old chipper bird from “Blind Date”. I am… a catalist of love, a fucking synapse… an electric spark… people just stick to each other, and I end up being the discarded charred rubbish… or in more realistic terms… the “introducer”… the presenter of “who wants to meet… your new (choose from this selection) boyfriend/lover/husband/wife/fuck buddy or one night stand…
The thing is, I know this is not going to stop… why? Because I don’t practise “friend segregation”. (sorry to use such a loaded term, but I felt I didn’t have a choice here). I… just mix all my friend together in a fruit salad. My philosophy is that if I get along with them, they I am sure they will all get along too. I have plenty of friends who don’t mix their social circles… notably a “friend” of university I no longer speak to because she found a more interesting group of friends and stopped hanging around with me because she didn’t want to mix “me” with her “law friends”. I felt like… discarded trash… so I said… ta taa to her.
To conclude, I am not annoyed by my friends getting together, my opinions on whether or not they are suited for each other is another matter, I just hate the role I have… because deep down, I two wish I was the contestant, and not the presenter. But hey, I have the shotgun loaded for my fortieth birthday… if I’m still single and I have cats plural, then it’s KABOOM… other than that, I’ll be looking for a new day job, if anyone has any ideas !
Lately, I’ll agree I’ve been pretty busy, I apologise to my very few readers (that said, over 11 000 views in 2 years… feeling pretty cool right now) for not writing as much as I’d like, but alas, I have started another school… (after history and history of art, it’s up to graphic design…) in Paris, and I have no time at all!
So, SPAM… I am of course not talking about the gross looking congealed processed meat, but in fact the lovely mails we all receive in our email “trash cans” (definition : Spam is the use of electronic messaging systems to send unsolicited bulk messages, especially advertising, indiscriminately). In general, I am lucky enough to get a few seedy emails from people offering me various “busty/sexy/hot/horny housewives/topless…” (all or a variety on these examples) women… a couple of bizarre, clearly misguided emails offering me “penis enlargement”, which to be honest, if I was a guy, I’d be worried about getting and the usual “spend a zillion dollars and get this” or “how to get a green card”. Now, I don’t know why, but this got me to thinking… I actually get more trash emails that actual people sending me emails to find out how I am, or if I dead. Sure I could be offended, but in reality… it’s a sad comment on how society is getting… automated and anti-social… with so much social media at our disposition, I feel that people are feeling too connected, thus no longer crave real intimacy and friendship. You no longer have to interact with someone to find out about what they are doing. We are a few clicks from becoming a real “Wall-E” world (cf: go watch the movie losers xxx). I’m worried… that in a few years my only relationship will be with my 15 year old Tamagotchi. No, i’m not kidding, It’s still alive (does it count if the batteries have died?). Even when one does send an impromptu email… you have to wait a certain amount of time before getting any sort of replies nowadays… why I hear you ask? Ok, here is what the people across the pond call the “low down” :
1) No one will respond immediately or make the first move, this indicates neediness and unmanliness (or in general “no ball syndrome”… apparently this is more figuratively that physically, i have, you will be pleased to know done the “leg work” as an anonymous blogger to check),
2) Replying fast apparently also means you are too eager (thus back to point 1) and a giant loser, so there is an appropriate time lapse before a response (between 24hours and 72 hours, after that he/she isn’t interested, so hunny/dude you should let it go),
3) This “time lapse” equation is hard to calculate, because it can vary… for ex, needy person will wait for 24hours and conclude that the guy/girl = not interested (maybe because there is a larger percentage of interest on this person), but if someone is more “blasé” about the response, he/she won”t be annoyed/irritated by the time lapse…
This leaves as all juggling more than the initial “hi-how-are-you-bla-bla-bla” conversation opener with the “OMG-will-they-think-i’m-desperate-lonely-loser” as well as… “desire” (how I hate that word… I feel like I’m in an 80’s mustachio movie when I use that… I shudder, excuse me for that. When I was a kid, you didn’t think of “perception”, you just did what you wanted when you wanted. I try to be like that, aka… if I get an email, I reply… immediately… but even I am reeled in to the “yes-my-name-is-roxy-and-i-am-single” dilemma… So what to do?
In my opinion, I’d want to say fuck it and not think about the consequences, but I feel that I’ll then receive an angry letter from someone complaining that that attitude gets people pregnant or dumped. So… maybe my advice should be that people should do what they feel is right… but I don’t agree on that either… there is far too much “missed communication” (don’t you dare use the word “connexions”, that’s bullshit). But I’m lost… what are we supposed to do? I don’t know the rules to these games any more… Oh blasphemy…