Friday, 10 December 2010

Where's your + one?

I dont know about you, but I adore the festive season. I love everything about it. Except one thing. The fact that at this time of year, if you don't have a + one joined to your hip, then you are pitied and type cast as a social pariah faster than you can say ba humbug.

Not wanting to sound like a mournful bridget jones type or someone who is constantly bemoaning their single status, but I have to say, its not the status that upsets me. Its the reactions to it that most annoy me. When is the best time to meet people, have lots to drink and generally have a good jolly time? Christmas time of course, everyone tends to be happy and up for going out and trying new things. Except it is often at those very events that people cling onto their plus ones and ask you earnestly how poor little old, lonely you will be spending your christmas and if there is anyone in your life?

I had this experience 4 times this week, the most recent being last night and two nights ago. It's like asking a fat person,'how are you going being fat? Are you finding the right sizes in shops ok?'

It's fairly obvious I'm single, where is the need to discuss it further.?.But I'm not the only one, just this week I've had three emails from my close girl friends bemoaning just this fact and that they aren't looking forward to the family gathering where their smug married brothers and sisters will be parading their paramour around.

Well to get me through the holidays and to make sure I dont let this pariah status get me down I'm going to follow the following guidelines:

1) Make my own christmas wishes come true 
Make a list of all the things I have done for myself this year and things 'I want for Christmas'. Forget about feeling bad when your sister produces the latest trinket her husband bought her. You can demonstrate the latest Fendi bag you bought for yourself without having to give anyone head to get it. Or lower yourself to constant nagging and suggestive brochure placement around the house

2) Say yes to everything
Christmas is the time for giving so say yes to every opportunity that comes your way even if its looking like it could be boring or a struggle. Go and give it a chance. If it is shit, well you are no worse off but its better than sitting at home feeling sorry for yourself and wrapping a pillow up against your back so you can pretend someone is in your bed with you

3)Get into the spirit
Do all things festive. You know the things that girls draaag their boyfriends to and make them endure at much sufferance. Christmas markets, theatre shows, plays, day trips.. everything. Just  recently I went to a play and had to endure a man shuffling, groaning and looking at his watch and huffing and puffing his way through a production of Onassis. He couldn't be bothered and was clearly bored shitless. It begs the question, why the fuck did she bring him? They left at half time fortunately. Some women just like to torture. Just think how much better it is going and doing something you want without anyone else bitching about it

4) Remember that christmas smiles are just a bit of polish
Don't forget when u see a couple strolling or kissing in public or doing sometthing romantic like buying matching drapes or a new duvet (Vomit) that they probably were aruging about his mother just half an hour earlier or he was pissed because she turned off the telling in the middle of a rugby match. All you have to do is stop and listen on oxford street and you can pretty much here the quarelling of a million couples having a tug of war over what they should buy their famlies for christmas. Do you need it? Hell no!And especially when you hear the way they speak to each other. And at those christmas drinks, when one partner is having a great time but is dragged home by the boring, sad, tired, lazy one? That never has to be you this xmas. You are free to leave when and if you like and whoever with.

5) Don't be hard on yourself
Yeah it sometimes sucks to be alone, but for goodness sake you aren't the only one out there. In fact there are more single dining and wining events in london during the festive season then any other time of the year. Make yourself a list of everything you've achieved over the year so you can sprout it forth when Aunt Flan asks you why u don't have any babies around your feet or ring around your finger. Or better yet, answer creatively. Last time someone asked me how it felt to be single this time of year. I said "Great, but its always annoying when you have to replace your bedframe.' Win to you for having animalistic sex and point lost to them for being a nosy parker.

6) Indulge, Indulge, Indulge
While other +one girls are running around doing errands and fixing their house to be the perfect festive venue you can go out and get your nails sorted, hair, treatments, massages, the lot you name it. Your money is your money and to be spent on you alone. Not on doing something 'romantic together' which often ends up with you both bitching about money or about him not doing the dishes..
And if you want to feel better in general. Help out. Go volunteer, if you have free time, go and do something for someone else rather than sitting and stewing on your status or the questions, if and when someone will ask.  It offers great perspective and also makes you appreciate everything you have in your life.

Yes sometimes it sucks not to have a significant other who can whisper sweet nothings in your ear at this time of year. But just remember, that the prospective mouth you are fantasising about in real life would most likely  reek of beer breath and smell of garlic stuffing and hardly be the thing to get your juices going.

Make merry and be merry

Are you a man or a mouse?

My recent experience with the guy who screamed like a girl when he reached the valley of the big O made me think about why he it was he so quickly became not as attractive or appealing to me.

The hard worn path to manliness is a difficult one to tread, and not one which many men do exceedingly well. And in my experience, neither do english men.

I have never met a more effimate bunch of straight men in my life which is what makes dealing and consequently dating them so frustrating and intriguing in the last three years I've been over here and as far as I can tell, its all down to political correctness.

I dont like to typecast a group of men, but english men by definition really are another beast all together. They are completely and utterly clumsy when it comes to flirting in fact, they often just avoid that all together and let drunkeness do the job.  Then when they are well bladdered, they  attempt to kiss or grab the object of their interest  in a dark corner somewhere. I wouldn't say australian men are especially skilled at this and can often also be like bulls in a china shop, but at least they do make it abundantly clear when they are interested.

This week I ended up unintentionally pissing off three men who apparently were interested because I just had no clue whatsoever, apparently a guy at work had his eye on me and got very very upset when he heard of my conquest last week at the work xmas party and now will not talk to me.

The second I met while out and was flirting with him and then was chatting to a friend of mine which he mistook as another love interest and left in a huff. The third is a former BF who has been texting and went MIA for a few days only to come back and accuse me of seeing someone because that could be the only reason I hadn't been in touch with him.

Seriously? I am single. I am not bethrothed or spoken for, nor am I tied to anyone in particular. That is what being single is all about. So frankly,  boys get it together. Man up as the english phrase goes. Grab your balls, check they still exist and bloody make some noise and pusue.

If you want it bad enough to need to put your ego to the side and risk some embarassment by at least taking a risk. Forget being politically correct, if you like my rack just say so.

meanwhile thought I'd share the below aus blog. It says manliness isn't something u take for granted these days, you need to seize it and I completely agree!

Friday, 3 December 2010

who's filling your christmas stocking?

Ok so last night I did the unthinkable. I'm sure I'm not the first and I won't be the last to disgrace to do this. I peed in the proverbial swimming pool. I mixed business with pleasure, and ended up with more than my usual serving of Christmas cheer at the annual work Christmas party.

Our offices consist of  5 floors of more than 1600 people. So let them loose with a glamour theme complete with rat pack singers, roulette and black jack tables, unlimited alcohol and minimal food and there is always, always bound to be more than a quick canoodle going on under the mistletoe.

The night started out relatively innocently, I dressed up in a LBD, killer heels and complete with lots of bling, red lipstick and wine permanently in hand. Before the night was midway through I'd had a quickie wedding with a friend of mine, lost all my money on red and was dancing up a storm. As the clock was getting closer to midnight I thought I'd make a quick and graceful exit rather than a decidedly disgraceful one later.

Standing in the coat line I came across he who shall now be known as Mr Charismatic. Tall. Skinny. Blonde. Blue eyes with hooded lids. Big Hands. Big Feet. Cute. Completely not my type. But there was that unmistakable spark. A match was lit and I wasn't about to blow it out after the time I'd spent with my fireplace untended to. The phrase 'Why Not?' sprung to mind and I went with it. After a few shared compliments over outfits and a quick chat on the debauchery of the night he walked me to the tube before offering to buy me a few drinks. Cue an hour later and we had thrown the mistletoe away and seemed to be searching for it under each other's clothes in a dark, secluded corner of the bar, so much so that the bar manager asked us to leave. Not my proudest moment. Next thing I knew we were in the back of the cab and I was reaching for his stocking  and he was unwrapping me like the unexpected Christmas gift I was.

Back home and 4 and half shags later I was left feeling less than satisfied. Sure I'd enjoyed it, it was random, fun and exhilarating and naughty but I still  felt a bit like Lily Allen lying in the wet patch of the bed feeling sorry for herself. At some point in the proceedings it had turned teenager both in style and technique on his end.  Bringing up the following issues:

1)      Bareback ride anyone? - He was doggedly persistent about not wearing protection. But once he realised it wasn't on if it wasn't on he soon got with the program, but every time he still tried to angle for a bareback ride. When in this day and age with the prevalence of stds and over nasties did it ever become ok to shag a stranger without protection? I found this almost as disturbing as his kissing technique
2)  Pash rash- His kissing technique, well what there was of it that is. It involved a mashing, nashing of teeth against my lips. I now have several blood blisters in my mouth from his voracious nashing snogging. I also have gravel rash on my lips and chin. He would basically try to eat my lips and beat up my tonque with his. I almost wanted to say out loud '1,2,3,4 I declare a tongue war'
3) Holiday Hickeys – they were never cool in highschool and when u have to work the next day, sporting a bright bruise on your neck is like holding a neon sign above your head saying 'I'm a whore' or 'please consider me the office bike'. Not good, but this guy loved vacuuming, with this mouth. To the point I am now sporting not just one but multiple hickies on my neck and bruising to boot. I have whiplash, and not in a good way 
4)   Dexterity -His dexterity below the belt involved a rather rough poking and twisting of his fingers and somehow I think he mistook my cries of discomfort for being in the throes of passion. I gave a few gentle instructions, but he was fingering with the frustrated ministrations of a sex starved teenager

5)   Oh Oh OH – perhaps the most distracting thing about the whole situation? His girlish scream and whimper when it came to the point of orgasm. It literally stopped mine in its tracks. He was a louder groaner and moaner than I was and pretty sure my flatmates heard every thrust and throb.

Sadly I didn't have a lot of OH OH Ohs throughout the night and ended up resorting to faking quite a few which I hate, but he was just so mortifyingly bad with some of his technique I didn't know what else to do. I'm sure there are a range of things which shape a guys sexual experience but these days when I've given feedback it's been met with aggression, disdain and insulted glares. Would a guy really prefer a girl to be unsatisfied and fake it? If so, I might just abstain for a while because the only Oh Oh Ohs I'll be making is when I'm skipping the yellow brick road to orgasmville.

In the meantime I'll be walking with my head down and navigating corridors with furtive looks in a bid to avoid an awkward lift encounter which is bound to happen. That's the last time I take a free gift without shaking first for what's inside.

Merry xmas all
Ho ho ho xx