I can't change everything in a day but I can change my trailer park trash look. A haircut has not exactly been on my list of priorities the last 3 months, but the harder it gets to brush my hair the quicker I've added it on my list of things to do asap! A flyer for 50% off seemed like a calling from the hair gods that watch over a city without masses of Hair Cuttery's or Super Cuts. I am not high maintanence when it comes to this kind of girly thing, I use up all my high expectations in other areas, paying a lot for a haircut is beyond me or my bank account. But I couldn't resist 50% off, I called and within an hour, Michael my hair genie of Marleybone, was plucking the pink flamingo ornaments from my mane, making me look socially acceptable again.
Armed with his holster of scissors, combs and clips, and no direction from me, he went to work. While he lightened the burden of my thick unruley hair, a woman filed and painted my nails a sassy shade of red. Another man asked if he could offer me a glass of wine, cappucino, water? 32 quid isn't bad considering the tagteam efforts to pamper poor students like me. Places where drinks and style advice are part of the package make me slightly nervous, I wonder if they know I'm wearing 2 pound shoes and refuse to pay more than 3 for hair products? After an hour, Michael revealed a new and improved, trailer free me. Thanks to Electric Salon for the free drinks I plan on getting tonight!
Now if only I could find a nice cheap place for my eyebrows, its only a matter of weeks before I look like teen wolf....
Friday, April 30, 2010
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
Wanker?
Like a lot of American teens, I spent way too much time and hard earned Rita's cash on Cosmopolitan and Seventeen. I mean how else were we supposed to know "101 Things to Drive our Man Wild" or get inside his "Secret Sexual Fantasies"? We weren't going to ask, were we? Nope, we were going to let a couple quizzes tell us if his actions meant we were fated to live happily ever after or worse if our man's words meant he was a cheat.
I'm a little older,not necessarily wiser but I have had a ton more sex since the days when I subscribed to the bibles of adolescence to find out "Are You Amazing In Bed?" I do realize those quizzes, articles, and 101's are nothing but crap but I sitll believe in some of that crap about men and women. I hate to admit it but I do, especially when it's proved true in past situations. Not to mention, I did learn a couple of positions that did drive my man wild.....
It's fact that men think about sex every 7 seconds, isn't it? It seems reasonable enough, I think about sex multiple times a day, why shouldn't they every other second. Although they can't exactly whip out their dicks are start playing around every time the thought crosses their minds (chafing?), I was pretty sure most men did at least once a day or a couple times a week. I figured this was fact, wheither they were getting some or not. Well my boyfriend does not subscribe to my or Cosmo's assumptions about all male sexual behavior.
As he whined over the phone on Monday that he wanted trouble aka sex for those adults who do not date someone who uses a code word, I told him to go home, pop in some porn, and have a little "me" time. I mean that's what I do when I don't see him for a couple days. Well the boy does not "wank", "jerk off", or "have me time" when he's dating someone. Crazy I know, I question his manhood during moments like these. Every guy I have ever dated, jerked off when I wasn't around to offer my services; I have even had the pleasure of dating a fuckin' creep who jerked off while I slept next to him (that was a fun wake up call, he 'didn't want to wake me up'). My ex-fuck buddy, believed jerking off before sex helped lessen the chances of knocking me up, this was the same idiot that thought he could never get me pregnant because he smoked too much pot, a regular scientist, my fuck buddy! I only had one response to Beni's statement: "Bullshit, Fucking Liar!"
Beni: "It's not good when you do that all the time"
Me: "I don't care if you do, have a party in your pants for all I care"
Beni: "If you do it all the time, you are no good anymore for the women"
Me: "Interesting theory"
Beni: "I haven't since I met you and won't unless you go away for a long time"
Me: "What's a long time?"
Beni: "Over a month"
So my boy has oddles of self control, maybe I can borrow some because I do not share the same philosophy of the rules in engaging in me time! When I get it, which is rare, I take advantage of it, despite how much sex I am getting!
He may have busted one Cosmo myth but the other stands, he does think about sex roughly every 7 seconds. It takes nothing, I mean nothing, a simple kiss is all it takes to get him ready to tackle a list of 101's courtesy of chick mags around the world.
I'm a little older,not necessarily wiser but I have had a ton more sex since the days when I subscribed to the bibles of adolescence to find out "Are You Amazing In Bed?" I do realize those quizzes, articles, and 101's are nothing but crap but I sitll believe in some of that crap about men and women. I hate to admit it but I do, especially when it's proved true in past situations. Not to mention, I did learn a couple of positions that did drive my man wild.....
It's fact that men think about sex every 7 seconds, isn't it? It seems reasonable enough, I think about sex multiple times a day, why shouldn't they every other second. Although they can't exactly whip out their dicks are start playing around every time the thought crosses their minds (chafing?), I was pretty sure most men did at least once a day or a couple times a week. I figured this was fact, wheither they were getting some or not. Well my boyfriend does not subscribe to my or Cosmo's assumptions about all male sexual behavior.
As he whined over the phone on Monday that he wanted trouble aka sex for those adults who do not date someone who uses a code word, I told him to go home, pop in some porn, and have a little "me" time. I mean that's what I do when I don't see him for a couple days. Well the boy does not "wank", "jerk off", or "have me time" when he's dating someone. Crazy I know, I question his manhood during moments like these. Every guy I have ever dated, jerked off when I wasn't around to offer my services; I have even had the pleasure of dating a fuckin' creep who jerked off while I slept next to him (that was a fun wake up call, he 'didn't want to wake me up'). My ex-fuck buddy, believed jerking off before sex helped lessen the chances of knocking me up, this was the same idiot that thought he could never get me pregnant because he smoked too much pot, a regular scientist, my fuck buddy! I only had one response to Beni's statement: "Bullshit, Fucking Liar!"
Beni: "It's not good when you do that all the time"
Me: "I don't care if you do, have a party in your pants for all I care"
Beni: "If you do it all the time, you are no good anymore for the women"
Me: "Interesting theory"
Beni: "I haven't since I met you and won't unless you go away for a long time"
Me: "What's a long time?"
Beni: "Over a month"
So my boy has oddles of self control, maybe I can borrow some because I do not share the same philosophy of the rules in engaging in me time! When I get it, which is rare, I take advantage of it, despite how much sex I am getting!
He may have busted one Cosmo myth but the other stands, he does think about sex roughly every 7 seconds. It takes nothing, I mean nothing, a simple kiss is all it takes to get him ready to tackle a list of 101's courtesy of chick mags around the world.
Monday, April 26, 2010
Weekend Review
With the weight of a paper lifted from my shoulders, it was easy to stand up straight and run towards a relaxing, stress free weekend, one free of temper tantrums. And it was exactly that, amazing what can happen with you stop being a bitch long enough to enjoy a night out.
The best nights happen when they aren't planned, when you don't spend 10 hours getting ready, and when you add tequila. The same cannot be said for tequila the next morning. I don't drink tequila, but I think we get along lately, it might be the salt I get to lick off my hand before each shot, I would like to eat plan salt randomly but adding the shot makes me look less like a tard. Thursday-Sunday, were all random, they were all set to be a "grab a quick drink" kind of nights, yet somehow turned into drunken surprise nights of fun!
Thursday: I opted to leave half of my paper unfinished for a quick beer...I could write it later than night or the next day, I had plenty of time. Happy hour turned into 3 bars, multiple shots of tequila, and double fisting cider with Ashley and Jose. Jose is a badass, Lebanese, Equador passport holding, Amsterdam resident, who knows everyone and everything about any European city. He is way too cool, in a innocent womanizing, clubbing, event planner in Hong Kong/India/EVERYWHERE, kind of way...For some reason he thinks Ash and I are entertaining. It may be because the night ended with a 9 minute video of me talking/stealing/making funny faces while Ash fell asleep in her noodles. Don't worry Mom, I just stole a weird one finned fish statue, it looked odd in the restuarant anyway, he is much happier on my shelf!
Friday: I met Beni for a drink in East London aka the Capital of Albania. Quiet drinks with my boyfriend turned into 3 Albanians and I speeding in a Lexus to central London. I called for American backup, I needed someone to talk to all night....in english! The Americans and our dancing machines went clubbin'.....a collective 500 pounds were spent....shots shots shots....dancing....shots shots shots...dancing....shots shots shots....stumbling. 4am seemed like a reasonable time to leave and by 5am we were drinking coffee with Big Brother and drunk eating. With Big Brother off to bed, it was time for drunk sex and by 8am we were out of condoms and energy
Saturday: Dinner and a movie with Ash from Kentucky and by 11 I was ready for bed. I told Beni to meet me at the station, so we could go to his house to sleep. His cousins thought better of an early bedtime. I walked out of the station to be greeted by him and two others (2 more were waiting at the bar). And like that I was picked up and carried to a bar, literally. When that closed we walked to another with a band. Along the way, I became the stand in girlfriend for the drunkest of the cousins, a role I played up for emphasis. We walked to Stratford, me and 3 drunk boys. a 15 minute walk filled with your mom jokes and whos dick is bigger contests. Unfortunately it wasn't a real measuring contest....first it was pull ups on the construction scaffle, then it was jumping road blocks, and then it was running.... I was way behind when they started pulling me on to the dance floor, they had 5 hours of Jack Daniels on me, so I did my best with tequila. By 1 am I was dancing with the bar...not on the bar...
Sunday: Slept late, sex, coffee, sex, shower, nap, sex, kebabs, coffee, nap, sex, pizza.....pretty much a perfect sunday, all that's missing is some NFL.
The best nights happen when they aren't planned, when you don't spend 10 hours getting ready, and when you add tequila. The same cannot be said for tequila the next morning. I don't drink tequila, but I think we get along lately, it might be the salt I get to lick off my hand before each shot, I would like to eat plan salt randomly but adding the shot makes me look less like a tard. Thursday-Sunday, were all random, they were all set to be a "grab a quick drink" kind of nights, yet somehow turned into drunken surprise nights of fun!
Thursday: I opted to leave half of my paper unfinished for a quick beer...I could write it later than night or the next day, I had plenty of time. Happy hour turned into 3 bars, multiple shots of tequila, and double fisting cider with Ashley and Jose. Jose is a badass, Lebanese, Equador passport holding, Amsterdam resident, who knows everyone and everything about any European city. He is way too cool, in a innocent womanizing, clubbing, event planner in Hong Kong/India/EVERYWHERE, kind of way...For some reason he thinks Ash and I are entertaining. It may be because the night ended with a 9 minute video of me talking/stealing/making funny faces while Ash fell asleep in her noodles. Don't worry Mom, I just stole a weird one finned fish statue, it looked odd in the restuarant anyway, he is much happier on my shelf!
Friday: I met Beni for a drink in East London aka the Capital of Albania. Quiet drinks with my boyfriend turned into 3 Albanians and I speeding in a Lexus to central London. I called for American backup, I needed someone to talk to all night....in english! The Americans and our dancing machines went clubbin'.....a collective 500 pounds were spent....shots shots shots....dancing....shots shots shots...dancing....shots shots shots....stumbling. 4am seemed like a reasonable time to leave and by 5am we were drinking coffee with Big Brother and drunk eating. With Big Brother off to bed, it was time for drunk sex and by 8am we were out of condoms and energy
Saturday: Dinner and a movie with Ash from Kentucky and by 11 I was ready for bed. I told Beni to meet me at the station, so we could go to his house to sleep. His cousins thought better of an early bedtime. I walked out of the station to be greeted by him and two others (2 more were waiting at the bar). And like that I was picked up and carried to a bar, literally. When that closed we walked to another with a band. Along the way, I became the stand in girlfriend for the drunkest of the cousins, a role I played up for emphasis. We walked to Stratford, me and 3 drunk boys. a 15 minute walk filled with your mom jokes and whos dick is bigger contests. Unfortunately it wasn't a real measuring contest....first it was pull ups on the construction scaffle, then it was jumping road blocks, and then it was running.... I was way behind when they started pulling me on to the dance floor, they had 5 hours of Jack Daniels on me, so I did my best with tequila. By 1 am I was dancing with the bar...not on the bar...
Sunday: Slept late, sex, coffee, sex, shower, nap, sex, kebabs, coffee, nap, sex, pizza.....pretty much a perfect sunday, all that's missing is some NFL.
Friday, April 23, 2010
There is that question again
It's one of those questions that's asked repeatedly...."Where do you want to be in 10 years?" People love this question, it gives them a chance to fantasize, dream, and hope for the future. I've been asked this on every job interview of my working career but of course I only include my career fantasies in that setting, I don't think a potential employer wants to hear about my desire to have daily orgasms and lots of puppies. American schools are obsessed with this question too.
In elementary school: I wanted to be a popular, varsity athlete with a letter jacket to wear at football games...oh and I wanted a car too.
In high school: I wanted a college education, a hot boyfriend, and wild spring breaks with tons of friends
In college: I wanted a job, a big salary, and an apartment in Philly (I know I really reached for the stars on that one)
Ten years ago, I was 16 an age that is almost impossible to relate to now. If you asked me then, where I would be now, I would have never come close to an accurate guess. One thing is for sure, I would have never thought I would be living in London, working on degree #3 or dating an Albanian.
At 16 I was worried about getting my license in time to drive my high school sweetheart and I to the homecoming dance. There was reason to worry, I failed once...fucking parallel parking got me everytime! I was madly in love with that boy from a neighboring high school and our main concern was who's parents would chauffeur us to the movies on a friday night. I had just lost my virginity (after the PSATs...nothing says high school like banging after standardized testing!) and thought I would be married to him following college. 26 year old me wouldn't recognize 16 year old me if they ran into each other on the street....and it's not just because of the weight gain!
And so the always present question returns again, but this time I don't answer, Lawrence does. According to him at 36 I will:
In elementary school: I wanted to be a popular, varsity athlete with a letter jacket to wear at football games...oh and I wanted a car too.
In high school: I wanted a college education, a hot boyfriend, and wild spring breaks with tons of friends
In college: I wanted a job, a big salary, and an apartment in Philly (I know I really reached for the stars on that one)
Ten years ago, I was 16 an age that is almost impossible to relate to now. If you asked me then, where I would be now, I would have never come close to an accurate guess. One thing is for sure, I would have never thought I would be living in London, working on degree #3 or dating an Albanian.
At 16 I was worried about getting my license in time to drive my high school sweetheart and I to the homecoming dance. There was reason to worry, I failed once...fucking parallel parking got me everytime! I was madly in love with that boy from a neighboring high school and our main concern was who's parents would chauffeur us to the movies on a friday night. I had just lost my virginity (after the PSATs...nothing says high school like banging after standardized testing!) and thought I would be married to him following college. 26 year old me wouldn't recognize 16 year old me if they ran into each other on the street....and it's not just because of the weight gain!
And so the always present question returns again, but this time I don't answer, Lawrence does. According to him at 36 I will:
- Have a boyfriend of at least 5 years, one whom I call my partner but do not necessarily intend to marry soon
- Begin to think about having kids
- Co-Own an Event and Image Management Company (this is my favorite!!!)
- Live in a Southern city like Memphis, Miami, Atlanta or Nashville
- Travel a lot but always return to the US as my home
- Drive a vintage (85-90) convertable, one that is unique only to me, acting as a branding of myself....people will know its mine in the parking lot!
- Have a large Golden Retriever.....one that could even be described as chubby!
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
Angry Chick Crossing....
I blame PMS and why shouldn't I? Every woman does, it's the only excuse we have to be a raging cunt for no apparent reason. I at least hope it's the PMS. It could be the naked lotioning (yup, night #34 in a row), the constant nails on a chalkboard sounds of the flute practice next door, but maybe it's the interview for the pyramid scam I had this afternoon, or wait could it be the guy on the tube who pushed me aside to get the last seat? I can't pinpoint it, it could be the blank page of a critique that's due in two days or merely the fact that I am never alone.....EVER!!!!
The love affair is over, at least for this week. It's exactly 3 months since I moved here and it feels like forever, in a bad way. I am in a funk, a funk that cannot be cured by some rough, hot, angry sex (I tried to de-funk myself with sex to no avail last night). I need space, a bubble of my own, sans naked asians and angry flautists! I am way too old and have lived on my own too long to be sharing quarters this close, even my shoes are angry with the lack of closet space! Even when I escape this dorm from hell, I am still not alone, there is an Albanian there wanting to cuddle and ask about my day. Well guess what? Despite what RomComs say, women do not always want to cuddle, sometimes it hot and your balls on the back of my leg can be enough to make a girl wake in the middle of the night and elbow you in said balls! Hypothetically speaking of course.
Tomorrow is another day, a day that I will avoid everything. I will force myself to be a library nerd and finish the stuff that's hanging over my head and then I'm going to get drunk, sloppy drunk! And when I've drank the bar clean, I'm going to parade my naked ass around my suite (lotion included) and see how she likes them tits!
The love affair is over, at least for this week. It's exactly 3 months since I moved here and it feels like forever, in a bad way. I am in a funk, a funk that cannot be cured by some rough, hot, angry sex (I tried to de-funk myself with sex to no avail last night). I need space, a bubble of my own, sans naked asians and angry flautists! I am way too old and have lived on my own too long to be sharing quarters this close, even my shoes are angry with the lack of closet space! Even when I escape this dorm from hell, I am still not alone, there is an Albanian there wanting to cuddle and ask about my day. Well guess what? Despite what RomComs say, women do not always want to cuddle, sometimes it hot and your balls on the back of my leg can be enough to make a girl wake in the middle of the night and elbow you in said balls! Hypothetically speaking of course.
Tomorrow is another day, a day that I will avoid everything. I will force myself to be a library nerd and finish the stuff that's hanging over my head and then I'm going to get drunk, sloppy drunk! And when I've drank the bar clean, I'm going to parade my naked ass around my suite (lotion included) and see how she likes them tits!
Monday, April 19, 2010
It puts the lotion on its skin......again
I am not a prude, in fact I enjoy being naked, I wish I could be naked or at least topless at all times but society says that is unacceptable and for good reason. My nice, english literacy faking, anti-headphone wearing, asian roommate does not follow society's rules....at least not in our room.
The girl who was too shy to change anywhere but in the comforts of our closet is now forcing her nudity on me. No, it's not hot....it's not even remotely hot. It is 20 minutes of akward lotioning and slapping of skin, all taking place 2 feet from my computer. I swear to all that is unholy, if I have to see this bitch lotion her crevices one more time, I won't need a job. I will just turn my fucking webcam on and start charging creepy men to see the show. Afterall it is a show, the fucking door is wide open, just walk by and see her snatch, she doesn't care, she'll just keep on lotioning!!!!!!!!!!!
The girl who was too shy to change anywhere but in the comforts of our closet is now forcing her nudity on me. No, it's not hot....it's not even remotely hot. It is 20 minutes of akward lotioning and slapping of skin, all taking place 2 feet from my computer. I swear to all that is unholy, if I have to see this bitch lotion her crevices one more time, I won't need a job. I will just turn my fucking webcam on and start charging creepy men to see the show. Afterall it is a show, the fucking door is wide open, just walk by and see her snatch, she doesn't care, she'll just keep on lotioning!!!!!!!!!!!
Sunday, April 18, 2010
Snip Snip
The evidence is there, it written all over the bathroom walls. My flowered toothbrush sticks out like a nun in a whorehouse almost as much as the face wash and the Dove exfoliating body wash among minimal man products in the shower. What is more scary than the presence of my bobby pins on his nightstand is how easily I leave my phone charger plugged in, knowing I will need it the next night. 5 nights a week in his bed is becoming an unquestioned fact.
It's been a seamless transition to domestication and in a mere two months I have been neutered. I have new found sympathy for my friends dog, Indy, who just lost his balls. Like him, I too want to lick my stitches and act like nothing has changed me. But I don't have the luxury of sadation or that funny plastic collar. I wish I could say this introspection was triggered by my urge to blow a hot bartender, but it wasn't. It was the opposite. It was that I didn't want to blow a hot bartender or anyone but Beni for that matter.
Maybe I should change the title of this blog, it isn't really the snog blog I envisioned, maybe it should be called "Caged Tiger" (Little Tiger, as Beni calls me, I wish it was solely because I possess some tiger-like sexual prowess...but it isn't) or "Domesticating an American", "Closing down the Whorehouse", I'm open to name suggestions.....
I told Beni, I needed a night out with the girls, I really needed to go out, dance, flirt freely, and drink with the girls. It was a Dutch dance party and the Dutch are known for being beautiful so I didn't want the boy around, terrible I know. It's not that I wanted to do anything, I wanted to look and maybe dance with a beautiful dutch boy. On the way to dance with the Dutch, I did find out that Scotsman do not wear anything under those kilts.....stag parties are a wonderful thing, even more wonderful when said Scotsman has a nice ass! His ass and my intoxication were supposed to be signs of a great girls night out. The boys were beautiful and we were drunk but by 12:30 I just wanted to dance up on my foreigner, so much for a girls night! And just like that Beni got out of bed, hopped in a cab, and found me after a 2 minute drunken plea. 40 pounds for a cab, 10 pound cover, and 15 for two drinks.....40 minutes later he was handing a cab driver another 30 pounds to take my drunk ass home. A complete waste of time and money for him!
As he told the story to his cousin the next day, it was clear that he too had be snipped. The boy who only months earlier was sandwiched in between two Brazilian women dancing and taking turns kissing both of them( thanks to Big Brother for that fun story!), was now traveling all over town to pick up his drunk girlfriend. He takes this new role easier than I do. I have been grasping on to any last shred of singledom...don't get me wrong, I want nothing to change, I want those 5 nights in bed with him, I want the evidence of my role in the shower but I don't necessarily want everyone to be able to see that I want that.
Earlier this week any doubt of my status was erased thanks to some facebook stalking by his cousin. I don't know why I was surprised it came up, I have been under the watchful eye of my makeshift Albanian family for weeks. I had just had the conversation with Ash about purposly not changing my status on facebook; (I did not want to notify my "500 closest aquaintances" of my new status via a social networking site) when it came up. Maybe it's just the thought of seeing that damn broken heart on the news feed when someone gets dumped that made me not want to. His cousin was not happy that my status read single and he made sure Beni wasn't happy about it either. After saying I "would get around to it later" was ignored, it was clear this was not my battle to win. I said it wasn't a big deal and without missing a beat he said to change it now...if it wasn't a big deal of course. Not having a computer wasn't an excuse, he pulled it up on my phone. The facebook world was notified and some shock was expressed. With that stupid change in profile information there was no doubt or denying left. I have no idea why something that stupid and little was so difficult for me to do but if I get dumped in a week, I'm going to be really pissed when that broken heart shows up!
It's been a seamless transition to domestication and in a mere two months I have been neutered. I have new found sympathy for my friends dog, Indy, who just lost his balls. Like him, I too want to lick my stitches and act like nothing has changed me. But I don't have the luxury of sadation or that funny plastic collar. I wish I could say this introspection was triggered by my urge to blow a hot bartender, but it wasn't. It was the opposite. It was that I didn't want to blow a hot bartender or anyone but Beni for that matter.
Maybe I should change the title of this blog, it isn't really the snog blog I envisioned, maybe it should be called "Caged Tiger" (Little Tiger, as Beni calls me, I wish it was solely because I possess some tiger-like sexual prowess...but it isn't) or "Domesticating an American", "Closing down the Whorehouse", I'm open to name suggestions.....
I told Beni, I needed a night out with the girls, I really needed to go out, dance, flirt freely, and drink with the girls. It was a Dutch dance party and the Dutch are known for being beautiful so I didn't want the boy around, terrible I know. It's not that I wanted to do anything, I wanted to look and maybe dance with a beautiful dutch boy. On the way to dance with the Dutch, I did find out that Scotsman do not wear anything under those kilts.....stag parties are a wonderful thing, even more wonderful when said Scotsman has a nice ass! His ass and my intoxication were supposed to be signs of a great girls night out. The boys were beautiful and we were drunk but by 12:30 I just wanted to dance up on my foreigner, so much for a girls night! And just like that Beni got out of bed, hopped in a cab, and found me after a 2 minute drunken plea. 40 pounds for a cab, 10 pound cover, and 15 for two drinks.....40 minutes later he was handing a cab driver another 30 pounds to take my drunk ass home. A complete waste of time and money for him!
As he told the story to his cousin the next day, it was clear that he too had be snipped. The boy who only months earlier was sandwiched in between two Brazilian women dancing and taking turns kissing both of them( thanks to Big Brother for that fun story!), was now traveling all over town to pick up his drunk girlfriend. He takes this new role easier than I do. I have been grasping on to any last shred of singledom...don't get me wrong, I want nothing to change, I want those 5 nights in bed with him, I want the evidence of my role in the shower but I don't necessarily want everyone to be able to see that I want that.
Earlier this week any doubt of my status was erased thanks to some facebook stalking by his cousin. I don't know why I was surprised it came up, I have been under the watchful eye of my makeshift Albanian family for weeks. I had just had the conversation with Ash about purposly not changing my status on facebook; (I did not want to notify my "500 closest aquaintances" of my new status via a social networking site) when it came up. Maybe it's just the thought of seeing that damn broken heart on the news feed when someone gets dumped that made me not want to. His cousin was not happy that my status read single and he made sure Beni wasn't happy about it either. After saying I "would get around to it later" was ignored, it was clear this was not my battle to win. I said it wasn't a big deal and without missing a beat he said to change it now...if it wasn't a big deal of course. Not having a computer wasn't an excuse, he pulled it up on my phone. The facebook world was notified and some shock was expressed. With that stupid change in profile information there was no doubt or denying left. I have no idea why something that stupid and little was so difficult for me to do but if I get dumped in a week, I'm going to be really pissed when that broken heart shows up!
Friday, April 16, 2010
And the guilt sets in....
It takes a lot for me to feel guilty and even when guilt starts to set in I will normally ignore the emotion all together and find someway to justify my actions. Even when I do something guilt-worthy to a guy I'm dating, the "I'm sorry" blowjob is enough to eleviate all those yucky feelings. I have felt more guilt the past two days that I have in a very long time.....
I don't necessarily apologize for being here but sometimes I do feel bad for it. As my Dad went into the hospital for testing, I waited for some honest and direct information, the kind of honesty that I suspect will never come while I am here. My parents told me minimal information, joking and acting like everything was normal, only to leave me more worried and angry. I lived an hour from my parents at home and I would have never gotten in the car and driven home to make sure things were ok. Yet now, an 8 hour flight away, I want nothing more than to jump on a plane and make sure everything is ok. Things may be fine, but I have a very good suspicion that things are being played up for my benefit, I can't even say I blame them, I do the same here as to not worry anyone. I couldn't feel more guilty at the moment, I couldnt go home if I wanted, not just because of volcanic ash either, I couldn't even buy a ticket if I had to, a fact that pisses me off to no end!
That's always how it starts, my meltdowns always start in anger, and almost always misguided. Poor Beni was not prepared for my outburst, at this point I can't even remember what he did to ignite my fury but I do know I acted like he had just run over my dog. I pushed away his hug, turned my check to his kiss, and finally told him to leave me the fuck alone. I left his bed for a cigerette, my vice allowed him to pour himself a large glass of Jack. We sat there in silence while he finished his first glass, he poured himself another before apologizing for making me angry. It didn't take more than a second before I realized, I had just bullied my boyfriend into a fake apology, one only said as a seize fire, a fact I would have been proud of a year ago. And then my anger melted into uncontrollable tears. I cried because I can't go home anytime soon. I cried because I think people are being shady. And I cried because I want my family, my friends, and a fuckin' cheesesteak or two! And I cried beause I had just treated the person who cares most in this country like shit. Just like when I was a child, I used so much energy in anger and sadness that I exhausted myself, I began to fall alseep on his lap. As he carried me up the stairs to bed, he promised he would try his best to get me back to the US this summer.
At this point I cannot accept the fact that I will not be home for another 8 months....
I don't necessarily apologize for being here but sometimes I do feel bad for it. As my Dad went into the hospital for testing, I waited for some honest and direct information, the kind of honesty that I suspect will never come while I am here. My parents told me minimal information, joking and acting like everything was normal, only to leave me more worried and angry. I lived an hour from my parents at home and I would have never gotten in the car and driven home to make sure things were ok. Yet now, an 8 hour flight away, I want nothing more than to jump on a plane and make sure everything is ok. Things may be fine, but I have a very good suspicion that things are being played up for my benefit, I can't even say I blame them, I do the same here as to not worry anyone. I couldn't feel more guilty at the moment, I couldnt go home if I wanted, not just because of volcanic ash either, I couldn't even buy a ticket if I had to, a fact that pisses me off to no end!
That's always how it starts, my meltdowns always start in anger, and almost always misguided. Poor Beni was not prepared for my outburst, at this point I can't even remember what he did to ignite my fury but I do know I acted like he had just run over my dog. I pushed away his hug, turned my check to his kiss, and finally told him to leave me the fuck alone. I left his bed for a cigerette, my vice allowed him to pour himself a large glass of Jack. We sat there in silence while he finished his first glass, he poured himself another before apologizing for making me angry. It didn't take more than a second before I realized, I had just bullied my boyfriend into a fake apology, one only said as a seize fire, a fact I would have been proud of a year ago. And then my anger melted into uncontrollable tears. I cried because I can't go home anytime soon. I cried because I think people are being shady. And I cried because I want my family, my friends, and a fuckin' cheesesteak or two! And I cried beause I had just treated the person who cares most in this country like shit. Just like when I was a child, I used so much energy in anger and sadness that I exhausted myself, I began to fall alseep on his lap. As he carried me up the stairs to bed, he promised he would try his best to get me back to the US this summer.
At this point I cannot accept the fact that I will not be home for another 8 months....
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
Payback courtesy of my vagina
The sex gods are smiting me...it's bad enough that I have to teach a boy the tricks of cunnilyngus but now I'm just being punished for having sex on a regular basis. I woke up this morning with the unmistakable pain of a UTI, this is a wonderful addition to the swine flu I'm developing thanks to my roommate and her germs. As if sneezing and coughing nonstop wasn't enough, now I get to feel like I'm going to pee myself all day, oh and then there is the pain when I actually do have to pee. Women really do get to have all the fun: pushing something the size of a watermelon out of our vaginas, birth control, cramps, having to carry a supply of tampons at all times, UTIs and it's even hard to pee outside without getting pee on your shoes. It's not even remotely close to fair!
So my immune system and vagina are tagteaming me, revolting against my blissful attitude, and ultimately making me hate my life today. Someone please remind me why it's better to be a girl....
So my immune system and vagina are tagteaming me, revolting against my blissful attitude, and ultimately making me hate my life today. Someone please remind me why it's better to be a girl....
Monday, April 12, 2010
Will _____ For Cash!
My London fairytale comes with a hefty pricetag, a tag I have ignored for a little too long. There are the trips, the inappropriate tipping, the excessive bar taps, the Primark obsession, and the pastries and pies diet....they all add up. And as I studying for a finance exam, I realize very quickly how fucked I am. 1,700 pounds until September....no that doesn't include rent but still....I am fucked.
So its time for this gal to work, the only problem is I don't know where, well that and the fact that I lack any necessary motivation to do so.
I'm not looking for a career here, I'm looking for cash. I need to either find something fast or start charging Beni for sex. Or convince him that dating a call girl is completely acceptable.
So my options are:
Call Girl: The idea that I would have to take orders doesn't exactly sit well...maybe I could specialize in giving the orders...just a thought
Bar Bitch: They don't tip here so I don't see the point it getting dolled up to serve beer to drunks without the hope of flirting for tips plus I only find drunk people amusing if I am one of those drunks
Pamphlet Peddler: They are everywhere, they boast 1000 pounds a week, but I hate those people so why would I want to be one.
English Teacher: It is my first language but I speak it badly, all Americans do according to the Brits so that's out
Waitress: Again no tips, I have no balance so carrying trays of food may not be one of my many talents
A stripper: Do you think there is a market for strippers with a slight fupa? Maybe they have hooters over here, I will have to look into that....
So all 5 of you reading this....got any suggestions? Does anyone want to pay me to do something????
I am a team player, what some might call a leader, my ability to motivate others have brought about case race victories, beer olympic championships and I have on many occasions organized day drinking events. I am willing to shamelessly flirt and show cleavage for the benefit of others. I'm a hardworker, you will never see me bail out early or succomb to a hangover (well that's a lie, everyone does every now and then). I like unneccessary competition, arguing for fun, and stirring up a smidge of trouble. I believe I can bring excitment, well at least entertaining stories to any position. Oh and I'm pretty smart, does being in college for 8 years count for anything?
References available upon request.....
So its time for this gal to work, the only problem is I don't know where, well that and the fact that I lack any necessary motivation to do so.
I'm not looking for a career here, I'm looking for cash. I need to either find something fast or start charging Beni for sex. Or convince him that dating a call girl is completely acceptable.
So my options are:
Call Girl: The idea that I would have to take orders doesn't exactly sit well...maybe I could specialize in giving the orders...just a thought
Bar Bitch: They don't tip here so I don't see the point it getting dolled up to serve beer to drunks without the hope of flirting for tips plus I only find drunk people amusing if I am one of those drunks
Pamphlet Peddler: They are everywhere, they boast 1000 pounds a week, but I hate those people so why would I want to be one.
English Teacher: It is my first language but I speak it badly, all Americans do according to the Brits so that's out
Waitress: Again no tips, I have no balance so carrying trays of food may not be one of my many talents
A stripper: Do you think there is a market for strippers with a slight fupa? Maybe they have hooters over here, I will have to look into that....
So all 5 of you reading this....got any suggestions? Does anyone want to pay me to do something????
I am a team player, what some might call a leader, my ability to motivate others have brought about case race victories, beer olympic championships and I have on many occasions organized day drinking events. I am willing to shamelessly flirt and show cleavage for the benefit of others. I'm a hardworker, you will never see me bail out early or succomb to a hangover (well that's a lie, everyone does every now and then). I like unneccessary competition, arguing for fun, and stirring up a smidge of trouble. I believe I can bring excitment, well at least entertaining stories to any position. Oh and I'm pretty smart, does being in college for 8 years count for anything?
References available upon request.....
Sunday, April 11, 2010
Head in the Clouds...
I have avoided this blog, my school work, and a whole list of other things this week. I just can't bring myself to do anything I don't find enjoyable lately. I blame London's sudden change in weather and of course the boy, how can I possibly sit in front of a computer blogging or studying when it's sunny or when a cute boy is pulling me back into bed....I just can't. Although I hate to admit it, once those 3 words spilled drunkenly out of my mouth, I have submerged myself in it, getting caught up completely in the excitement of it all.
Because of that I have spent most of my time since my friends left in the arms of Beni. It's as if the approval of my friends has changed him, the quiet, shy, guy I started dating last month is now a social chatty cathy, dancing in the kitchen, singing in foreign languages, and telling jokes kind of guy. It might be wrong to admit but I love the new him more than the old. This week has been an endless string of cultural lessons that extend far beyond the typical language teachings, although those have been our funniest lessons to date. My Albanian vocabulary now includes: "Yes", "No", "Thank You", "I love you", "Slap My Ass", "Where's the Beer?", and "Bathroom". I in return try to teach him American English, I give all teachers so much credit, it takes so much patience, a virtue I have little of. This week Beni learned, nap, sarcasm, pay attention, blog and mood. Nap and blog were easy, mood and sarcasm were a different story. It's like saying a bad word in front of a child, once they hear it they say it over and over again, even when it's not the right context. I am not sure how mood came up but after I said it, Beni asked "What's this word". I explained the meaning to which he repeated "Mawd"...nope not quite...after 10 minutes of incorrect pronounciation, I changed tactics. I told him say MOO like a cow, well this might as well have been the best joke ever, he giggled and asked me to do it again. MOO....D, like a cow. "Mooo, Mawd". Now he was just fucking with me and spent the morning saying "Baby, what does a cow say?"
The concept of sarcasm was even harder. Some people are born with the ability to teach others, I am not one of those people but I tried my best. I said it was a form of humor, a joke, almost a little lie. Well apparently he only heard lie and like a child hearing "shit" for the first time, Beni has attempted sarcasm everyday since. Unfortunately, his attempts are just straight out lies. Today he lied and stuck with the story for 40 minutes, only breaking it when I flipped out. His response was a chuckle, "Baby, I just sarcasm, don't be mad, American humor right?" So, instead of teaching sarcasm, I have taught the boy to lie for sport. I guess that's an American thing too, so at least he's learning, but next time I might punch him.
With his new chatty attitude, I found out a lot, maybe more than I wanted to know. As his darling discussed his sexual conquests, I got to wondering how many women my Albanian had before me. I know it's a dangerous conversation but when has that ever stopped me...red button= push, to me.
Me: How many women have you been with?
Beni: In the UK?
Me: No, total
Beni: In the UK: You, 2 British, 2 Latvian, 1 Lithuian, 1 Spanish, 2 Belgian, 1 Polish, and 1 Russian
Me: You couldn't even speak English half the time you've lived here, how did you manage that?
Beni: Sometimes you don't need to speak
Me: Ok, now how many total?
Beni: Oh, I can't remember, maybe 30...40...5
Me: You can't say a number lower than the ones you've already told me about
Beni: Ok, 30-40 I guess, I can't remember
I don't know why I was surprised, afterall he did have some smooth moves when he picked me up. I wasn't bothered, in fact I was more impressed than anything, especially for only learning english a year or so ago. So we exchanged numbers, I wasn't bothered by his estimate and he wasn't bothered by my 15.
But we still had one issue to cover...while I have been very satisfied sexually the past month one thing was missing, the one thing the Barrister had down to a T. My Albanian lover has never gone downtown and since pandora's box was wide open, I decided to ask whynot before the lid slammed shut. Surprisingly, out of the unknown number of women, Beni has never, not once, gone down a girl. Even sadder was this wasn't one of his attempts at "sarcasm"....most men he knows don't and he was under the impressed we don't like it. Seriously? I asked if he liked it when I went down on him, "Yes, Of course"...."Well why wouldn't I like it?" So over the last drops of our coffee, I told him whatever issues he had with it had better get resolved because I like it, want it, and expect it. With that threat, Beni kissed me, and told me to stay longer and I could teach him to do whatever I wanted.....a nice offer but the moment was gone for me, not to mention I was sore from the 2 rounds last night and 2 this morning.....there is always next time.
Not all of our cultural difference revolve around language or sexual acts; there are the certain social cues and norms that he doesn't know, like sticking your tongue out at someone, a simple act of every American child teasing a younger sibling is odd to him (don't worry he picked that one up easily and now does it to his little brother). Every man in America knows the "Do I look fat in this" trap. Every woman in America has set that trap, fished for compliments, and been sensitive about looking fat in a pair of pants. Well don't ever ask an Albanian expecting an answer along the lines of no of course not. I fished with "I'm getting chubby" and got a line full of "Me Too" as he tried to pinch skin on his 6-pack. And then came the pudge pinch....I ignored the first fupa pinch, slapped his hand at the second, and yelled at the third. But there is no point because everytime I say I don't like my pudge pinched....I don't get "What pudge?", I get "I like to pinch you pudge". Well if that isn't the burst of my bubble I don't know what is, granted he probably doesn't know what that word means, but still. Lesson # 3489 of the week: Do not ask your Albanian boyfriend if your ass looks fat in these jeans" or Do not say you feel like a pig after stuffing your face, he will surely say: "I like piggies" followed by an oink. Oh well, fishing for compliments is a bad female trait anyway.
Our dividing cultural issues do not just revolved around language, sexual acts, and social norms; there are the serious ones, the ones that cause great debate and concern. They are less amusing than our elementary language lessons but for now, I will try to take one thing at a time and not worry about the shoe dangling from my foot. I'm beginning to accept that I can't change the outcome; it might drop or he might just bend down and tighten the strap....
Because of that I have spent most of my time since my friends left in the arms of Beni. It's as if the approval of my friends has changed him, the quiet, shy, guy I started dating last month is now a social chatty cathy, dancing in the kitchen, singing in foreign languages, and telling jokes kind of guy. It might be wrong to admit but I love the new him more than the old. This week has been an endless string of cultural lessons that extend far beyond the typical language teachings, although those have been our funniest lessons to date. My Albanian vocabulary now includes: "Yes", "No", "Thank You", "I love you", "Slap My Ass", "Where's the Beer?", and "Bathroom". I in return try to teach him American English, I give all teachers so much credit, it takes so much patience, a virtue I have little of. This week Beni learned, nap, sarcasm, pay attention, blog and mood. Nap and blog were easy, mood and sarcasm were a different story. It's like saying a bad word in front of a child, once they hear it they say it over and over again, even when it's not the right context. I am not sure how mood came up but after I said it, Beni asked "What's this word". I explained the meaning to which he repeated "Mawd"...nope not quite...after 10 minutes of incorrect pronounciation, I changed tactics. I told him say MOO like a cow, well this might as well have been the best joke ever, he giggled and asked me to do it again. MOO....D, like a cow. "Mooo, Mawd". Now he was just fucking with me and spent the morning saying "Baby, what does a cow say?"
The concept of sarcasm was even harder. Some people are born with the ability to teach others, I am not one of those people but I tried my best. I said it was a form of humor, a joke, almost a little lie. Well apparently he only heard lie and like a child hearing "shit" for the first time, Beni has attempted sarcasm everyday since. Unfortunately, his attempts are just straight out lies. Today he lied and stuck with the story for 40 minutes, only breaking it when I flipped out. His response was a chuckle, "Baby, I just sarcasm, don't be mad, American humor right?" So, instead of teaching sarcasm, I have taught the boy to lie for sport. I guess that's an American thing too, so at least he's learning, but next time I might punch him.
With his new chatty attitude, I found out a lot, maybe more than I wanted to know. As his darling discussed his sexual conquests, I got to wondering how many women my Albanian had before me. I know it's a dangerous conversation but when has that ever stopped me...red button= push, to me.
Me: How many women have you been with?
Beni: In the UK?
Me: No, total
Beni: In the UK: You, 2 British, 2 Latvian, 1 Lithuian, 1 Spanish, 2 Belgian, 1 Polish, and 1 Russian
Me: You couldn't even speak English half the time you've lived here, how did you manage that?
Beni: Sometimes you don't need to speak
Me: Ok, now how many total?
Beni: Oh, I can't remember, maybe 30...40...5
Me: You can't say a number lower than the ones you've already told me about
Beni: Ok, 30-40 I guess, I can't remember
I don't know why I was surprised, afterall he did have some smooth moves when he picked me up. I wasn't bothered, in fact I was more impressed than anything, especially for only learning english a year or so ago. So we exchanged numbers, I wasn't bothered by his estimate and he wasn't bothered by my 15.
But we still had one issue to cover...while I have been very satisfied sexually the past month one thing was missing, the one thing the Barrister had down to a T. My Albanian lover has never gone downtown and since pandora's box was wide open, I decided to ask whynot before the lid slammed shut. Surprisingly, out of the unknown number of women, Beni has never, not once, gone down a girl. Even sadder was this wasn't one of his attempts at "sarcasm"....most men he knows don't and he was under the impressed we don't like it. Seriously? I asked if he liked it when I went down on him, "Yes, Of course"...."Well why wouldn't I like it?" So over the last drops of our coffee, I told him whatever issues he had with it had better get resolved because I like it, want it, and expect it. With that threat, Beni kissed me, and told me to stay longer and I could teach him to do whatever I wanted.....a nice offer but the moment was gone for me, not to mention I was sore from the 2 rounds last night and 2 this morning.....there is always next time.
Not all of our cultural difference revolve around language or sexual acts; there are the certain social cues and norms that he doesn't know, like sticking your tongue out at someone, a simple act of every American child teasing a younger sibling is odd to him (don't worry he picked that one up easily and now does it to his little brother). Every man in America knows the "Do I look fat in this" trap. Every woman in America has set that trap, fished for compliments, and been sensitive about looking fat in a pair of pants. Well don't ever ask an Albanian expecting an answer along the lines of no of course not. I fished with "I'm getting chubby" and got a line full of "Me Too" as he tried to pinch skin on his 6-pack. And then came the pudge pinch....I ignored the first fupa pinch, slapped his hand at the second, and yelled at the third. But there is no point because everytime I say I don't like my pudge pinched....I don't get "What pudge?", I get "I like to pinch you pudge". Well if that isn't the burst of my bubble I don't know what is, granted he probably doesn't know what that word means, but still. Lesson # 3489 of the week: Do not ask your Albanian boyfriend if your ass looks fat in these jeans" or Do not say you feel like a pig after stuffing your face, he will surely say: "I like piggies" followed by an oink. Oh well, fishing for compliments is a bad female trait anyway.
Our dividing cultural issues do not just revolved around language, sexual acts, and social norms; there are the serious ones, the ones that cause great debate and concern. They are less amusing than our elementary language lessons but for now, I will try to take one thing at a time and not worry about the shoe dangling from my foot. I'm beginning to accept that I can't change the outcome; it might drop or he might just bend down and tighten the strap....
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
And then there was one....
Welcome back tears, I can't say I missed you or any of the doubts that come along with you. At least I was prepared this time, I knew it was coming and I came armed with sunglasses to hide my eyes in the aftermath.
Trip # 4 to Heathrow was the hardest, just like I knew it would be. It was the trip that would leave me on my own again. Not as alone as I was when I arrived but still more alone than I was the last two weeks. I felt home while they were here, not home in London but back in Philly home. As we waited in line for Ash to check her bags, I felt like I was returning too. It wasn't until the woman made me leave the line and wait over to the side with the rest of people saying goodbye, that it hit me, I was already home, well my home for the forseeable future.
We reached the departure gate, I couldn't go any further. Then self-preservation set in, I gave a quick shitty hug, said goodbye, and turned at walked away before the tears really started. I wore sunglasses most of the tube ride to East London. I cannot stand showing any sign of weakness, especially to men. But I gave in to it and ran to Beni's. As soon as he hugged me and asked why I looked so sad, I knew I couldn't stop it. I cried until there was nothing left, just like I did when I left the Philly airport over two months ago. I spent the day on his lap, bouncing in between depressed and pathetic, he tried his best to understand but being away from friends and family is something he doesn't comprehend. Hours later, I felt better, I signed up for this, there will always be momentary setbacks, I need to suck it up and get over it. Christmas isn't that far away and one day I will be sad to be away from London and my friends here.
Trip # 4 to Heathrow was the hardest, just like I knew it would be. It was the trip that would leave me on my own again. Not as alone as I was when I arrived but still more alone than I was the last two weeks. I felt home while they were here, not home in London but back in Philly home. As we waited in line for Ash to check her bags, I felt like I was returning too. It wasn't until the woman made me leave the line and wait over to the side with the rest of people saying goodbye, that it hit me, I was already home, well my home for the forseeable future.
We reached the departure gate, I couldn't go any further. Then self-preservation set in, I gave a quick shitty hug, said goodbye, and turned at walked away before the tears really started. I wore sunglasses most of the tube ride to East London. I cannot stand showing any sign of weakness, especially to men. But I gave in to it and ran to Beni's. As soon as he hugged me and asked why I looked so sad, I knew I couldn't stop it. I cried until there was nothing left, just like I did when I left the Philly airport over two months ago. I spent the day on his lap, bouncing in between depressed and pathetic, he tried his best to understand but being away from friends and family is something he doesn't comprehend. Hours later, I felt better, I signed up for this, there will always be momentary setbacks, I need to suck it up and get over it. Christmas isn't that far away and one day I will be sad to be away from London and my friends here.
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
The 3rd and Final Celebration!
I love my birthday, in my mind it's a national holiday, and why shouldn't I, it is the day I graced the world with my presence. Yes, arrogant I realize, but I really do love the day! Last year I had a difficult time turning 25, I don't know why but it started this whole quarter life crisis of mine. I was disturbingly unhappy with my life, much unhappier than any 25 with a job, apartment, great friends and family should be.
Rocky asked Ash the other night if I was different than I was back home. Had I changed? Ash's response was simple and accurate: "She's less angry"
I was not where I wanted to be at 25; I spent a majority of 25 time thinking about what I didn't have, what I didn't accomplish, and what was missing. 26 is the beginning of a new story....I am exactly where I want to be, I have never been so content in my life. Yes, I could have more money, more clothes, and a job...but I don't care about any of those things right now. I am happy and finally where I think I should be.
Today was one of the nicest days in London since I moved here, sunny and relatively warm for English springs. It needed to be taken advantage of and what better way than a picnic in the park. Ash I and bought more food than either of us care to admit; cheeses, breads, dips, veggies, fruit, ham, chips....YUM! We spread out by the lake, chatted, laid around, ate, and ate some more. Beni and his Darling joined us a couple hours later. And just like a movie, Beni, Darling, and I played football....the boys tackling each others, me trying to keep up, Beni throwing me over his shoulder and running around in circles. It was the perfect day, espcially since it was topped off with dinner and drinks with Ash later that night. As we walked to dinner, we ran into Amy Winehouse and the paperazzi, I hope we end up on Perez with the trainwreck!
Rocky asked Ash the other night if I was different than I was back home. Had I changed? Ash's response was simple and accurate: "She's less angry"
I was not where I wanted to be at 25; I spent a majority of 25 time thinking about what I didn't have, what I didn't accomplish, and what was missing. 26 is the beginning of a new story....I am exactly where I want to be, I have never been so content in my life. Yes, I could have more money, more clothes, and a job...but I don't care about any of those things right now. I am happy and finally where I think I should be.
Today was one of the nicest days in London since I moved here, sunny and relatively warm for English springs. It needed to be taken advantage of and what better way than a picnic in the park. Ash I and bought more food than either of us care to admit; cheeses, breads, dips, veggies, fruit, ham, chips....YUM! We spread out by the lake, chatted, laid around, ate, and ate some more. Beni and his Darling joined us a couple hours later. And just like a movie, Beni, Darling, and I played football....the boys tackling each others, me trying to keep up, Beni throwing me over his shoulder and running around in circles. It was the perfect day, espcially since it was topped off with dinner and drinks with Ash later that night. As we walked to dinner, we ran into Amy Winehouse and the paperazzi, I hope we end up on Perez with the trainwreck!
Monday, April 5, 2010
Birthday Celebration #2
The day started with a trip back to Heathrow....Laura returned back to Philly but luckily Ash was still in London for a few more days. We started the day off with a trip to the Tate Modern, a museum I love and hate virtually at the same time, mostly because it showcases amazing works right next to some shit I don't consider art in any form. After some debatable art, we went to Portobello Market, lunch, and Kensington Gardens. Of course any trip to a park isn't complete without some cupcakes...I really need to stop eating so many sweets, I know this because Beni pinched my pudge the other day. He doesn't understand American women are not fans of this action, his only reply was "what I like the belly!" A belly...great!
We watched a couple kids eat the pavement, then headed home to change. I wanted a relaxed night so we went to East London to meet up with Beni, Rocky, and Big Brother for a drink. Because it was a Monday night, we were kicked out by 10:30...LAME! Back to Beni's with booze we went. Ash and Rocky left to get some ice and mixers and returned at midnight with a cake, ready to sing Happy Birthday! I think Ash was the only one in the room who knew the tune of the song...the song is pretty amusing with 3 dudes singing in a language that is not their first. I wish I could have recorded it! We drank, bullshitted, ate, and watched movies until about 3 before passing out.
I love, love, love that they made my birthday a big deal. It made being away from friends and family on the day so much easier to deal with.
We watched a couple kids eat the pavement, then headed home to change. I wanted a relaxed night so we went to East London to meet up with Beni, Rocky, and Big Brother for a drink. Because it was a Monday night, we were kicked out by 10:30...LAME! Back to Beni's with booze we went. Ash and Rocky left to get some ice and mixers and returned at midnight with a cake, ready to sing Happy Birthday! I think Ash was the only one in the room who knew the tune of the song...the song is pretty amusing with 3 dudes singing in a language that is not their first. I wish I could have recorded it! We drank, bullshitted, ate, and watched movies until about 3 before passing out.
I love, love, love that they made my birthday a big deal. It made being away from friends and family on the day so much easier to deal with.
Sunday, April 4, 2010
Birthday Celebration #1
I prepared for a small celebration this year and by small I mean, I was thankful that two of my friends would be here so I would at least have them to get a drink with. My family jokes that my birthday lasts a week and I will do anything it takes to extend the day as long as possible. They are right, I really milk it for all its worth.
I invited the Albanian crew: Beni, Rocky, and Darling to join the girls, and Ashley from school and her roommate to join in. To my surprise and excitement there ended up being about 10 of us. We all got dressed up (including the boys...I must admit Beni looked yummy) and met at Lvpo in Soho. The bar was filled with people dressed in Bunny outfits, apparently you got a free shot if you did, I wish I would have known this. I love when people dress up, I love even more when I see a chubby bunny(a term I use frequently to describe myself when I've eaten too much!)
I invited the Albanian crew: Beni, Rocky, and Darling to join the girls, and Ashley from school and her roommate to join in. To my surprise and excitement there ended up being about 10 of us. We all got dressed up (including the boys...I must admit Beni looked yummy) and met at Lvpo in Soho. The bar was filled with people dressed in Bunny outfits, apparently you got a free shot if you did, I wish I would have known this. I love when people dress up, I love even more when I see a chubby bunny(a term I use frequently to describe myself when I've eaten too much!)
Please note: There are two chubby bunnies in that photo, I need to invest in some spanks or give up beer. It was a pretty great night. As usual the Albanians were busy making sure we had drinks in hand and wasted no time busting a move. We were all pretty drunk, at least I was! It was a really fun night, despite the fact that Beni and I got into our first little scuffle. There is always a line, I didn't know where his was but apparently I balanced right on it for a little then fell right on the other side of it that night.
Albanians will run out of the bar if:
A: you talk to a guy B: guy grabs your ass C: Push him D: All of the Above
Now, I was a part of the talking and I am a flirt but I did not condone the ass grab either, that was all on that dude...before I could take care of it, Beni was at my side. I took it as possesive, he meant it as protective. Drunk me found this to be the perfect time to push Beni away, you know, the "I can handle this myself" kind of push. Welp, that was it. He was officially pissed, it wasn't the talking, it wasn't completely the ass grab, it was the pushing. He walked out, Laura went after him and although I don't know how she did it, she calmed him down. Although it wasn't a quick talk down, we made nice just as the night ended. I tried to argue my side but it was no use, he had one good card...."What would you do if a girl grabbed my ass?" The "ass grab heard 'round Albania" brought a not so pleasant line of questioning from Rocky and Darling as well. They are concerned about my intentions with their boy.
I tried to explain that I didn't initiate anything, that I am a flirt but would never do anything, and that I can take care of situations like that myself. All of this was lost on Beni, he didn't care, in his mind I made him look like a fool and he questioned if something more would have happened if he weren't there.
And there it is....there is the line.
Saturday, April 3, 2010
Te dua.....
All my planning, all my avoiding, and all my denial is worthless. I have friends here but it's easy to get away with things because they don't know me very well yet. Being away from my friends and family, those who know me better than I know myself, makes it easy to forget what it's like to be called out on my bullshit. I definately missed being surrounded by people who know the answer before asking the question and know the lie before it comes out of my mouth.
It was somewhere in between hearing I was missed and watching my friends dance and laugh with the boy that I realized I was fucked. Apparently I was the last to know it but I love the Albanian, despite of and maybe because of all our differences. I have tried to avoid getting caught up in anything serious, I tried to create a situation where I can do whatever I want without consequence, and figured I would spend the year making out with a new hottie every weekend....it doesn't sit well with me knowing I do not have complete control in this situation...so much for plans.
The girls adore him which makes me adore him more. Friday we went out with my Albanian crew, Beni, Darling, and Best Cousin aka Rocky. They definately know how to treat us well, the drinks flowed way too quick and the boys spun us around on the dancefloor, making sure we were nothing but happy. And then I got some liquid courage....I told the boy what the girls already knew, that I loved him. I have never been the first to say these words and the idea makes me more and more scared. The little fucker replied with a kiss and "I know...." Not exactly what I figured the response would be. Luckily he followed that up with "te dua", I love you in Albanian....apparently he had told me a week earlier in his language because he knew it might scare me off if he said it in mine. Of course at the time I had no idea because he randomly says shit in his language and I don't always ask for translations. He picked me up, hugged me, and said it again in english. We went back to the group and had a drink before I really freaked out in my head......I didn't really plan on all this but fuck it I was never really good at planning anyway.
The rest of the night was a drunken blast, I can't remember the last time I had that much fun! I spent the night at his house, afterall it's pretty cramped in my flat at the moment! At the bar Darling told me Beni bought me a present for my birthday, so I demanded to get it early when we got back. He didn't put up much of a fight and handed over the cute necklace he bought me.
It was somewhere in between hearing I was missed and watching my friends dance and laugh with the boy that I realized I was fucked. Apparently I was the last to know it but I love the Albanian, despite of and maybe because of all our differences. I have tried to avoid getting caught up in anything serious, I tried to create a situation where I can do whatever I want without consequence, and figured I would spend the year making out with a new hottie every weekend....it doesn't sit well with me knowing I do not have complete control in this situation...so much for plans.
The girls adore him which makes me adore him more. Friday we went out with my Albanian crew, Beni, Darling, and Best Cousin aka Rocky. They definately know how to treat us well, the drinks flowed way too quick and the boys spun us around on the dancefloor, making sure we were nothing but happy. And then I got some liquid courage....I told the boy what the girls already knew, that I loved him. I have never been the first to say these words and the idea makes me more and more scared. The little fucker replied with a kiss and "I know...." Not exactly what I figured the response would be. Luckily he followed that up with "te dua", I love you in Albanian....apparently he had told me a week earlier in his language because he knew it might scare me off if he said it in mine. Of course at the time I had no idea because he randomly says shit in his language and I don't always ask for translations. He picked me up, hugged me, and said it again in english. We went back to the group and had a drink before I really freaked out in my head......I didn't really plan on all this but fuck it I was never really good at planning anyway.
The rest of the night was a drunken blast, I can't remember the last time I had that much fun! I spent the night at his house, afterall it's pretty cramped in my flat at the moment! At the bar Darling told me Beni bought me a present for my birthday, so I demanded to get it early when we got back. He didn't put up much of a fight and handed over the cute necklace he bought me.
Friday, April 2, 2010
Big Ben! Parliment!
Thursday and Friday we played high speed tourists! We ate, saw the sights, ate, did a tour or two, and ate some more. Between the Albanians always trying to feed me, friends visiting, and seeing new cities....I am starting to look like a chubby bunny. I've been here almost 3 months but still have so much to see in London and the surrounding areas. It was nice to have an excuse to play tourist. Of course we did Big Ben, Parliment, Westminster Abbey, Covent Garden, Leceister Square to see Chicago and a late night at the Science Museum. On Friday we decided to do an all day tour to Stonehenge, Bath, and Salisbury Cathedral.
The day was set to be shitty, it poured and we were tired. We weren't exactly the most upbeat tourists on the bus at Salisbury but we tried to make the best of it. Within a couple of hours we were driving through the english countryside on our way to Stonehenge, a place I have always wanted to see. A few minutes outside of our destination, the rain stopped and the sun struggled to peak through the clouds, talk about perfect timing! Stonehenge is literally in the middle of no where, most likely half of its appeal. It's impossible to imagine how or why its there, we heard the myths and theories but I still couldn't figure it all out. Nothing makes me crazier than not knowing why something is there or how it got there. It is definately a mysterious place and slightly erie but I couldn't stop snapping photos, I must have 50 from every angle.
The day was set to be shitty, it poured and we were tired. We weren't exactly the most upbeat tourists on the bus at Salisbury but we tried to make the best of it. Within a couple of hours we were driving through the english countryside on our way to Stonehenge, a place I have always wanted to see. A few minutes outside of our destination, the rain stopped and the sun struggled to peak through the clouds, talk about perfect timing! Stonehenge is literally in the middle of no where, most likely half of its appeal. It's impossible to imagine how or why its there, we heard the myths and theories but I still couldn't figure it all out. Nothing makes me crazier than not knowing why something is there or how it got there. It is definately a mysterious place and slightly erie but I couldn't stop snapping photos, I must have 50 from every angle.
Next stop: Bath! The rain managed to hold off during our hour treck to Bath, the morning showers produced a rainbow that seemed to last forever. I swear we drove under a rainbow the whole time, at one point their were two parallel to each other. Bath is the beautiful home of the historic Roman Baths, a former retreat for royalty and their courts. The baths are said to have healing powers, an idea I can't really wrap my head around but then again I wouldn't mind diving into the hot spring either. There wasn't enough time in Bath, it is high on my list to return to, the city has a lot more to offer than the Roman Baths and I'm determined to see it all. We took advantage of the 3 hour bus ride back to London and rested up for another night out with the Albanian crew.
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