Tuesday, 16 September 2014

Oh, Freshers'. You Marvellous Drunken Spectacle, You.

So. Wednesday.

My tiny friend from home was up staying for a few days so I decided to show her what a party town Aberdeen is. Where she lives is a tiny fishing town where shit does not happen. She needed to pop her shit happening cherry. God I hate that phrase.

So we got all drunk and dolled up and went out to da club along with all the Freshers. I felt so old. I mean, yes I'm only in Second Year but it means I can't be labelled as a stupid First Year any more which is rather jolly.

Anyhoo, we got to da club and were doing da dancing when who should I see but LB! Of course I didn't believe it - mainly because I had my contacts in and they don't make me much less blind than without. So we had to dance around him for a bit so I could double check. I wasn't sure until he bent down (remember - height, very much of it) and asked me if we'd met before. I obviously feigned ignorance like the smooth fuck that I am and carried on dancing,

Then thanks to Tiny Friend and her occasional accidentally-on-purpose shoves of me into his direction; we were kissing.

H O L Y    F U C K

I don't know how many of you have experienced drunken club make outs but in my experience there is either too much tongue and/or teeth or not too much tongue and weird dry humping. Gross, I know.

This was different. This was fucking incrediballs kissing.

I mean, it was like how I imagined if candyfloss could kiss. Melt in the mouth sort of stuff. Does that make sense?  I highly doubt it does. Just use your imagination.

So we made out like two kissing giraffes (heh) for he rest of the night. But did I go home with him? No I did not. Why did I not? Because Tiny Friend didn't know the city and I am like her City Mum so wasn't letting her go off wandering by herself to find my flat.

So I was like, aw well buggering hell never mind carry on as you were my lady. Because at least I had made out with LB. After all this time, it was like unfinished business being (partially) finished.

Then Tiny Friend jollied off back to the small town of boredom and I resigned myself to the fact that I would have no one to go out with for the Saturday night of Freshers'. This is not because I have no friends. It is merely because I have very few friends in the country at the moment. They've all buggered off to America and China and Sweden and Canada and shit for the year.

Glad we clarified that.

I eventually managed to persuade my punk flatmate (who is the sweetest most amazing friend ever so don't let the piercings put you off) to come out to da club with me for half an hour - she detests clubs - and then go back to her metal gig. I even paid for her entry. All I needed was someone to come with me in the queue so I didn't look lame as fuck. I'd be fine once I got in. And yes, this was mainly to see if LB would be there.

And fuck me sideways and call me Wendy - he was.

I played it very cool and danced by myself for an hour or so (I like to think I pulled it off) but then got bored so moved to the side of the dance floor. A few minutes later, he also came away from the dancing and stood texting. And - because women get shit done - I went over to him. We talked/yelled for a bit then I said I was leaving and he came with me.

We walked hand in hand along the street and talked. I can now confirm that he is 6'7". Just let that sink in. I'll say no more about it.

As we walked along, I didn't even notice we'd walked past my street and were on our way to his. Considering we hadn't even kissed that evening, I was pretty proud of myself.

And dammit - he's funny. And sweet. And I liked the fact I made him laugh. And he was kind. I have a weird heart murmur that pops up occasionally and gives me weird palpitations. It hasn't come up for a while but with my luck, I started getting palpitations while we were walking back.

It usually never lasts long but will reoccur a couple of times that same day. It's a bitch at inappropriate moments. Like this, But bless his face, he was so nice about it. Obviously didn't have a clue what to do but was nice and calm about it.

We made it back to his and he was so gentle with me when my heart fucked up again. We fell asleep in his bed at about 5am. Then I had to get up for work a few hours later.

 And no, we didn't have sex. Which means this business is still unfinished.

I apologise this post is a bit all over the shop. I've used it as a way to get all this out of my head and sorted out.

I'm trying not to get too into this. I know he probably isn't.

6'7", man. Fuckyeah.

Monday, 15 September 2014


Yes, yes, not written anything for ever, such is life, I suck, let's just move on please thank you.

Basically, the update is: I broke up with Troy and I'm over it now. Bosh. Back to cold hearted bitch. BUT AM I??????!!!!!

Mostly. Now, did I ever tell you about LB...?

I don't think I did. Well my little dandelions, allow us to go back in time to about February this year...

I had just gotten my tattoo, dyed my hair bright red and my lovely German and I had gone out to da club. She then promptly decided to ditch me and go back home as she wasn't feeling well. Should I have gone home with her being the fabulous friend that I am? Lol no. So I stayed. And I drank.

And here's what happens when I drink too much - I cry. I get crazy emotional and cry. And it's not attractive. Quite frankly it's right bloody annoying. I become a weeping, drunken pain in the respective arses of anyone I am with.

But on this occasion I was on my lonesome. Until I bumped into LB. LB stands for Lawyer Boy. He is, as you may have guessed, a male who studies law. God I'm inventive.

Now LB was tall. Taller than me and I was in heels - only about an inch and a half high but that still made me 6'1". And at that height, he still towered over me. And from what I could tell in a darkened club, he was rather not bad looking.

Fast forward an hour or so and him, his flatmate and I were walking back along the street. There hadn't been any interaction between us expect exchanging a few words but he started holding my hand as we got further down the street. I obviously got very overexcited about this. Then, as suddenly as a flasher whipping out his dick (ew. what.) I was getting bundled into a taxi by myself and taken home.

I was not impressed.

So unimpressed was I that I went straight onto Facebook and tracked him down. I won't tell you to what degree of stalking it took but to give you a hint - MI5 would be bloody lucky to get someone like me working for them. The next time I got drunk, I messaged him.

He messaged back after about a week - because obviously my message had gone into the Facebook messaging 'other' folder just reserved for creeps and stalkers - and good lord I got overexcited. Screaming and jumping about occurred. It wasn't a proud moment.

Hint: there are a lot of moments I am not proud of to follow. Sorry.

Then, after a few messages, we lost touch. As in - he stopped messaging me. Sensible enough.

I was so pissed. Because he had cursed me.

Yes, you read correctly. Cursed. Cursed in the way that no guy would come near me for about a month after I met him. Usually, I was accustomed to making out with at least one guy every time we went out to da clubs. After LB? Nope. None. It made me feel like right crap. Because I was thinking, God, is it me? Am I suddenly repellent to the male sex? Even though I have boobs?

Then I realised I was being ridiculous and the curse was broken and everything was hunkydory - I met TGI and you know the rest.

I didn't see LB again apart from a couple of times on campus - I ignored him and hoped he hadn't seen me notice him. It was so empowering, not gonna lie.

That is, until Wednesday night.

Oh yes. Freshers' Week.