Sod’s Law

So after my great weekend shenanigans of my last post, the week ahead was looking promising. I had a gig to go to, a good night out planned for the Friday followed by my night with the Brazilian. I went to see Kings of Leon as planned, but was a bit disappointed. We  were nice and close to the stage, but actually, they were pretty…well…just not as good as I thought they were going to be. I’m not a KoL afficionado or whatever but I wanted to hear more old stuff. Instead, it seemed they were playing more for the Sex on Fire generation. Added to that there were people throwing piss around in cups and general twattish behaviour, plus I wasn’t feeling too hot. I got home, tired and cold, but still, I’d been to see Kings of Leon.

The next morning I woke up and could barely breathe. I had the worst cold I think I’ve ever, ever had. I blew my nose so much I’m sure I lost some of my brain in there. 3 rolls of toilet paper in 3 days, and almost 2 weeks on, I’m still sniffling and blowing out rank stuff. I think I might actually have a sinus infection, so if it doesn’t clear up soon, I’m going to have to go to the doctor’s. I ended up sleeping my way through the Thursday, Friday and most of the Saturday. Yup, I had to cancel the hot Brazilian. Peed off wasn’t the word. I told him I’d be out the following Friday and he was more than welcome to come with. So, this week, Friday came round and some messages were exchanged – it was all looking good. Except he didn’t turn up. Or if he did, I didn’t see him because the place was bloody heaving. Grrrr. I wasn’t impressed. I wanted to lay him, I couldn’t do that if he wasn’t there!

It turned out to be an ok night. Mr Arrogant came brought a couple of mates – they were nice enough, but lotharios, pretty much like Mr Arrogant. I actually ended up slapping him around the face at one point and I’ve never slapped anyone before. He kept slapping my arse and then picking me up, and it really, really hurt. He definitely cannot handle his alcohol. So, I slapped him and told him to sort himself out. He disappeared, probably to terrorise some poor unfortunate girl, and I carried on having fun. Just as I was getting a bit bored, I turned around and saw some hot young guy. Tall, dark hair, nice eyes – well hello there. Yeah. I chatted him up some. Necked on a bit and then we left and ended up in Brick Lane until 3am. It was lots of fun. I fancied the pants off him and was pre-tty forward. I’m not one for coming out with what’s on my mind sexually but for whatever reason (probably feeling like a nympho as per my last post), that night, I was. We decided to escape the place we were in, left, bumped into a guy off Hollyoaks and then stumbled into a woman shouting up to an open window with blaring music. She was locked out of the house party and couldn’t get back in, so we helped get the party people’s attention until a girl in a onesie with rabbit ears came down to open the door.

Now, most people would just smile and be on their way. But I’m not most people. And for whatever reason, this guy was bringing out my mischevious side. So, we followed this woman into the party for a little gatecrashing action. I’ve always wanted to gatecrash a party, and one on Brick Lane had to be cool, right? Well. No. It was pretty empty, so we headed back out, since at that point, I just wanted to get laid. It’s funny, I’ve never really realised the power of words in those kinds of situations but when I told him I wanted to f*ck, the reaction was so visible, it made me laugh. And why not? We were both adults. He lives in Edinburgh so it’s not like it would be anything more than one night. Clearly we couldn’t come back to mine and he was staying at his parents for the weekend, so we decided to try a hotel round the corner. Except, it was fully booked. As was the one after that.

Can we say – frustrated?? It began to rain so we decided to call it a night and shared a cab. The next day we had a little banter over text but whatever – it served me no purpose. So annoying.

In other developments, one of the guys from my uni course has engaged me in a bit of messaging. It’s turned pretty filthy pretty quickly. Again. Nympho. He’s not in my tutor group which is good and I know that if I wanted to, I could go, get a quick bang and leave it there. But I dunno. It’s too easy. I like a bit of a challenge. But then it has been aaaaages. I’ve probably forgotten how to even have sex by now. Should I go for the Greek charmer or not? Decisions, decisions…


Strange things are happening…

This is a very quick post, but something strange happened last night. After work I went out for drinks with colleagues to celebrate Miss Comeback’s birthday (amongst others) – happy birthday Miss C! Anyway, the strange thing was, I didn’t dance all night! Maybe because we were tucked away by the bar where the acoustics were, shall we say, crap. But I didn’t dance at all. Not even a little wiggle. I just couldn’t get into the swing of things and ended up leaving with some of the girls at 10pm. Sober as a judge. I was in bed by 11pm.

What the actual fuck?


Today I’m meeting up with a group of girls I’ve been speaking to online in our writing community for a couple of years – it’s the first time we’ve all met up together. I think it’s fair to say there’ll be lots of wine consumed.

Well, I have to make up for last night!

We’re gonna party hard!

When you walk out of a club and it’s daylight, you know you’ve had a good night. Miss America and I hit up Ministry of Sound last night and even by our standards it was pretty epic. It’s been years since I’ve been anywhere near a club and on the way we got chatting to a couple of young guys. It set the tone for the night. All the hot men had come out to play!

Strangely, a friend of my ex saw what we were up to on Facebook and after swapping messages I told him to come down. I haven’t seen him since last year – why would I have done? Now this guy is hardcore. He’d come round to the flat I shared with my ex, go through beer after beer, gram after gram and still function for work the next day. But he was also pretty cool and always game for a laugh. Hm. He turned out to be a not so great drunk who smoked in the club, got into a fight resulting in him needing to have his arm patched up and grabbing at my mate. If it weren’t for the fact that I know what he’s like sober, I’d have written him off completely.

All this aside though, it was a great night and just what I needed to shrug off a crap week. The legendary Roger Sanchez played a 5 hour set and we danced the night away. It was the first time in ages I really let go on the dance floor, resulting in a few people asking if I was on drugs. I had to laugh. Of course there were people who were so spaced out they didn’t have a clue what was going on around them, but it’s not my scene. If I were to take some MDMA or coke or whatever, I’d be a mental case. Literally. Anyone who’s seen me in action on a night out knows this. I’ve got to say, I cannot wait for Ibiza!

I didn’t think I drank that much but actually, I think I was still drunk this morning. Certain sentences may as well have been tongue twisters, a fry up (albeit vegan and from a trendy place that took 45 minutes to serve us) turned my stomach and I can’t remember what the guy who’s been texting me looks like.

Yeah. There’s always a guy. He bought me a drink early on and I remember thinking he was alright, so he can’t have been that bad. We had a dance and a cheeky kiss anyway, and he’s already called me today. If anything, it’s a nice distraction from Mr Double-Barrel who seems to have dropped off the face of the earth.

It’s been a great weekend. I haven’t laughed so much in a very long time. Even if I am paying for it now….but hey, that’s the price you pay. In the words of Donaeo, we party hard.