Disastrous dates

Less than two weeks left of bacon toasties, endless mind numbing movies, hot baths and lounging around in oversized jumpers and fleece cow print pyjama bottoms. I should be feeling the nerves right now but tend not to think of where I will be in one months time. The thought of going through customs tugging an oversized, overweight suitcase does not fill me with comfort. It’s the unknown. I have no plan, which of course is exciting but also daunting. The best thing is that I have been free from Corpville for two weeks now. Two blissful weeks of not staring at an empty inbox, dodging management and feeling the agitation of precious hours slipping away into oblivion. I heard through the grape-vine that my manager cleared away my desk in anger, which fills me with a certain sense of glee. Will I miss it? I think not as there is nothing to miss. Although the free cans of soft drink tug at my heart-strings ever so slightly, I think I will survive sufficiently without them. I certainty will not miss the trail of disastrous dates that left me seriously contemplating single life as a permanent choice. Particular dates that I will not be pining over are as follows;

The Face licker: Oh yes this guy mangled my face with his oversized mouth and darting tongue. Not only did he take a layer of skin off my face, he also licked my cheek, my nose and also my hand. The date lasted 11 hours and consisted of dodging kisses and wiping away saliva while silently gagging into my G&T. After constantly nagging to be dropped off home he finally lets me flee from his clutches, leaving me to scrub myself in the shower for a good 45 minutes.

The ass muncher: Yes here again we have another charming gentleman who informed me after meeting for 5 minutes that he was completely broke. I lasted 3 hours as he had travelled nearly 2 hours just to meet me. He then whispered sweet nothings in my ear which included ‘I love licking ass’. After wooing me with a bottle of wine and chips he then thought it would be a great idea if he could come back to my place to drink my wine. Funnily enough I declined this romantic offer.

The break dancer: Here I was entertained by the male dancing ritual which involved Russian dancing on an empty dance floor (he was Welsh not Russian!). He also invited his friend after an hour who, when introduced, decided to tell me about his adventures in a Portuguese prison after being done for drug smuggling. My date and friend then proceeded to get rip-roaring drunk before I slopped off into the night never to be seen again.

The pinning ex: A teacher who went into great detail of his hellish ex who ripped out his heart, carved it into small pieces, placed it into a blender and whizzed it to a smooth consistency. Heart was then placed into a vat of acid for extra blitzing.

The Game student: First date whet well. Absolute gentleman but when he said he had been separated for a total of 3 weeks I must say I had my reservations. I explained that he should take some time out before leaping into the next relationship which he took well. 6 months later, date 2. He wooed me with Prosecco on the train to London, more champagne at a bar near Borough Market, dinner (with more Prosecco) and magic tricks at the table. He also thought it would be a great idea to tell me how his life had changed so much in the last few months after reading The Game by Neil Strauss. I kindly told him I had read the book. You would think that would have shut him up but he then went into great detail of how it had helped him with women and how he could finally pull! He also told me he had slept with his female friend the week before and that she was nowhere near as good in bed as he had expected. He also tried to get me drunk (little did he know my liver is literally bullet proof) and then get me back to his for more ‘champagne’.

The speed dating: 24 dates which included so many dodgy darlings that to go into detail will suck the life out of me (and quite possible you). I will say that it ended in tears literally, when one guy, who had obviously had too many dates to handle, started weeping into his pint while I looked on in defeated silence, counting down the 3 minutes left.

That is a small sample of the delightful, eligible bachelors I had the misfortune of meeting. It has been a year and a half of single life but seriously if that is what’s out there then retiring to the land of 5 cats and meals for one sounds like heaven to me.



I am currently sat in the living room with my parents. Current conversation is as follows:

Mam: You ate my cheese you bastard. You bloody ate all of it didn’t you?

Dad: I didn’t touch your cheese. I haven’t eaten cheese in two weeks.

Mam: You bloody liar, swear on the bible go on?!!

Dad: I didn’t eat your cheese.  For gods sake you watch me like a hawk. Right What goodies did you get?

Shuffle of Tesco’s bags and much bickering commences.

Mam: (with paper and pen in hand) Right, you want the steaks that’s £3 and you are having all the hams that’s £4……

Dad: (looking at me for support) She’s done the bill now she is adding on to it!!!

Mam: well I paid £3.33 for those yogurts and there was bugger all money off them

Dad: Are you going to give me change from this tenner??

Mam: 1p off, look at all those bloody steaks you got?!!

Dad: yeah but I’m trying to diet really….

Mam: Steak is dieting.

You see my parents have now reached that point in every loving relationship. After 45 years of marriage there comes a point where the only way forward from here is…..Separate food. Yes that’s right, you want cheese? You buy your own. Ham? Yep that too. Butter? Don’t even think about having one slither of my butter. Oh and don’t get me started on the bacon.

I lost my mother today for a total of 4 hours. After dropping me off at the doctors the plan was that she would park by Lidl and wait for me. Speaking to the receptionist at my doctor’s surgery, I was advised that I would need some form of ID. Being the logical, well prepared person that I am, I searched my pockets to find nothing. I did not bring my purse, money, phone or any form of ID. Although I did manage to bring a pen and cello tape. Yes obviously extremely relevant in this situation. Tail between my legs I left to find my mother and prepared myself for a stern mouthful for wasting time and petrol. But she was nowhere to be found. Wandering the car park for an hour and getting strange looks from staff opening up their shops for the day, I resorted to a taxi. Arriving at the house I banged on the door and hurried my recently awoken Dad for a tenner to pay the taxi. Expressing my concern for my mother, my dad drives me back into town. He drops me back at the doctors and tells me he will drive down to the car park and look for her. ‘Tell her to come to the doctors’ I said before he drove off. Five minute later I receive a message on my mobile which I had managed to pick up from home, saying that my mother is nowhere to be seen. By now, my panic is in over drive. My Dad drives back to the retail car park so we can continue the search of my lost mother.

Three and a half hours have now passed. My dad then chooses this opportune moment to give me multiple heart attacks by saying my mother has obviously been kidnapped. ‘Yes that is what happened. There is no other logical explanation for both her and her car going missing. She must have been having a cigarette and some one forced her to drive them somewhere. She must have been dumped somewhere. That fucking scum. If they have done something to her they are the lowest of the low…..’ And on and on this went before I was silently bawling thinking I can’t go to another funeral. I only went to one yesterday. Oh my God she’s gone, what am I going to do??!! Then my sister and her partner join us in the search, also getting the police involved as it is ‘completely out of character’ for my mother to just disappear. 4 hours later and a police man advises that they have found her…..In the other car park…….Outside carpet world……All that time she had been sitting in the wrong car park.

Suppose everyone needs carpet. Sigh.

Hand in hand

The rain is pounding on my bedroom window. What a contrast to the blue cloudless sky of yesterday. I am currently at my parents house back in Wales. On Friday as precisely 4pm I walked out of my office unnoticed. Slipped away never to be seen by them again. Reading a particular piece on star signs it quotes ‘Pisces’ orientation to the non-material means it’s also the sign most likely to simply disappear from the radar of general society, whether for tragic reasons or more strategic ones’. This for me is so true. I do not like leaving ‘Do’s’ or the hand shaking and false promises of ‘of course I will keep in touch’ and ‘oh you have to keep us updated on all your travels’ and my favourite ‘Yes I will visit’. What happens is people move on with their lives and you are just a passing though, if that. I know due to the office layout that many people have probably not even noticed that I am not there. This suits me just fine. When I am done, I’m done.

I had some heart wrenching news on Sunday. A man that I loved and hated in equal measures left this earth due to his own reckless behaviour. I mentioned in a previous post that I was just coming to terms with our turbulent relationship and have spent a year and a half recovering from the dramatic, painful and disturbing relationship we had together for four years. A game of constant cat and mouse both physically and emotionally. I would leave he would follow. He would leave I would follow. There were always extreme highs and extreme lows with nothing in between. This of course made me utterly addicted to the relationship. The wait for those highs that would inevitably come made all the trying times worth it.

I have spent over a year pining for him and hating him. Wishing that he would rescue me from myself and knowing deep down that he never could. Wanting so much to join him on a self destructive path, hand in hand like old times. My time here without him can only be describes as a ‘flat line’. No highs or lows just a constant, predictable, tedious path. Nothing that I will remember or care to remember. But with him things were so different. There was always something to remember. I felt completely alive with such pain and such happiness all at the same time. Every emotion that I could possibly feel was felt like a thunderous bold of lightening constantly penetrating each pore of my skin. My senses were alert to whatever he could throw at me and my body was always in flight or fight mode. No way to live obviously and there is only so much you can take before you crack and fall to pieces.

I am still picking up the pieces, one small piece at a time. I have no regrets of the relationship we had as I know we were meant for that time. I have learnt so many valuable lessons from him and for all his faults sometimes he shone so brightly in my life and made everything seem bearable. He guarded me fiercely and at times I had never felt more protective and loved. He would wipe my tears and terrorise all who dared to wrong me. He would give me his last pound if he had to.

To you chick pea. You sure did live life to the full and I pray to God that you are safe and loved wherever you are. I have always and will always miss you.

Notice period

Oh I feel so fleshy and thick. My arms and legs are swollen with the copious amounts of wine and carbohydrates. I feel so sluggish and ill. I am also starting to feel quite guilty knowing that I am deliberately stuffing myself and drinking myself into some form of contentment. Continually trying to hush the uncertainty that I currently feel. I know my butt will barely leave my seat for the remaining 7 hours left of my unfulfilling day. I will then make my way home which involves a 20 minute bus journey and a 15 minute walk. I will open the door to my bedsit and remove my tight jeans in mere seconds, before pulling on my extra snuggy flannel pyjama bottoms and old t-shirt. I will then proceed to fly into my double bed with rapid speed, whilst grabbing my laptop with kung pho movement. The next 5 hours of my remaining day will be spent immersed in the various antics of some movie that will take me away from my reality. This comatose state will be repeated for the remainder of the week.

I swore to myself that I would do the right thing and work until the end of my contract.I am now having second thoughts which mostly involve the question ‘why break the habit of a life time? You never work your notice. Why change things now? Just remind yourself how much crap they have put you through!!’. Part of me feels that as an adult I should be more mature and leave on a good note, creating some much needed good karma. Then I argue with myself that who gets anywhere doing the right thing? In 4 months’ time when I am on the other side of the world will I think to myself ‘I am so glad I worked my notice’ or will I think ‘I am glad I went back to Wales and spent and extra two weeks with people who actually love me’. Hmmmm when I put it like that there really is no contest. I also know well enough now that once your gone no one will give you a second thought. Ok that is a harsh but let’s face it, It will be a passing thought. In a few weeks’ time they will have some other poor ant to sit in my seat and continue the irrelevant, mundane, mind numbing work that I have had the pleasure of undertaking for the last 2 years. I will be gone and no one will give a flying fuck. I know this. Why I try to convince myself that it will be any different I do not know. I am nothing but a corporate ant here.

Yes, l shall rebel and save myself. Life as we know is far too short. To think I am even contemplating making myself ill and unhappy for an extra two weeks is just ridiculous.

The break-up dance

So I now brace myself for the break up dance. It is always an emotional time when a break up is imminent. You know it’s not working. You are sure that they know is not working. Surely they can feel your negative energy wafting around the room like a bad smell. It really comes down to the fact that you can no longer make each other happy. Or worse you don’t make them happy. You have felt that things haven’t been working for a while. You discuss the issues and make promises you can’t keep. You no longer laugh but bicker constantly and fain interest. You want it to work so much because deep down the thought of going it alone terrifies you to the core. What if there is nothing out there? What will I do by myself? It’s a terrifying concept and one that has kept you in a situation that has been holding you back for far too long. You run through the past grievances in your mind, tortured by moments when you should have spoken up and held your own. Then the inevitable moment comes. That terrifying time when you fight all reasoning and just do it….You hand in your notice.

Unlike a relationship where you break up and swiftly move on (of course not without tears and tantrums) now you are faced with the break up and then spending 4 weeks doing the break up dance. 4 weeks of avoiding eye contact and awkward conversations in the corridor. 4 weeks of finding somewhere else to grab a quick coffee. Now is the time to not get too excited about any future plans that you may have. It’s best to look sad and disappointed. Have the ‘oh I wanted it to work so much, can we still be friends’ attitude. Smile with a hint of sadness in your eyes, after all there is no need to rub salt into the wound and trying to make them jealous will not end well. Do tell them ‘its not you its me’ even though you know damn well it’s all them!

So here I am, feeling a little less caged and a bit more excited for the future. I have taken a leap of faith and taken the plunge with my travel plans. How it will pan out I can only wonder. My CELTA interview was such a disaster that I am surprised the interviewer could manage to understand one sentence from me as I continually babbled and stuttered my way through. I felt my checks burning with embarrassment at how ridiculously unprepared I was, confident that being a native English speaker would be enough. They must need the numbers though, as I was offered a place. Either that or it was pity.

On a positive note I know 100% that this is the right decision. I have no idea where I will be in two months, six months or one years time. I have a rough draft but I feel the need to not plan so much and just let whatever happens happen.