Thoughts About London… and A Guy

In September I head to London to do my Masters degree but I’m really nervous about going. I don’t know if it’s the right decision. Already in life, I’ve made so many mistakes – I can’t afford to make more! Unfortunately we don’t always know what the right path is. Life doesn’t necessarily give us a clue, there aren’t always big, glowing “right way!” signs to stop us making stupid, irreversible mistakes.

I’ve always wanted to live in London – not forever, just long enough to say I was there. And this year is really my only opportunity to do that… I just worry. Because I have limited finances, I’m technically going to be homeless in the big city. But really that would apply anywhere. And I can’t stay where I am now, that’s not an option. I have to move somewhere, it may as well be London.

But I worry…
What if I fail my Masters course and end up financially and emotionally broke with nothing to show for it?

What if I hate the basic accommodation I’m gonna be sharing with 50 other people and I go insane?

What if I don’t make any friends and remain lonely?

What if I can’t find work to find around my studies?

What if I burn out from trying to work and study?

What if this path eventually leads me to being a broke, old, crazy cat lady who lives in a shed and tells people “That was the moment I ruined my life!”?megcrying:gulp:

What if I never meet anyone like… him… again?

I threw away a sort of great beginning with a guy to do this move. Now, to be honest, I have no idea what his long-term plans were and whether they involved me. He was really sketchy about things – which is probably a clue that no, I was not a part of his plans. But I wish I hadn’t dropped the “moving to London” bomb on him so soon, maybe he took that the wrong way like I didn’t want him in my life.

I have a lot of unanswered questions about him which will forever remain unanswered. I’d never felt so much for a guy, I was so protective of him – not jealous, I mean I cared about his well-being (whereas my other boyfriends I used to silently wish would choke on their food).

I don’t think I’ll ever see him again. Maybe that’s good. Maybe he was an asshole in disguise. Maybe he would have ruined my life. I mean would I really have wanted to be his wife and live with him in Punxsutawny, Pissville forever? Cause I know he wasn’t geographically adventurous like me and I know his views on women were kinda “traditional”. Ahh, I don’t know. And I’ll never know.

And that’s another thing that’s got me worried. Did I just throw away the best thing that had ever happened to me cause of some stupid dream of being a computer scientist in London? Am I crazy? Or am I actually not crazy at all and doing exactly what I’m supposed to do?

Maybe THIS is the path that leads to true enlightenment and I’ll find myself a happy, loved old lady telling people, “That was the best decision I ever made!”

I have no freaking idea! And it’s driving me crazy! I need a sign, dammit!

Roughly a year from today, I’m either gonna be graduating from my Masters and feeling pretty good about the future… or I’m gonna be fucked! It’s really a coin toss right now…

 

Dating In Your 30s

Sometimes I wonder whether I’m ever gonna meet a guy, before it’s too late…

Everywhere I look, I see couples loved up and making memories together. Every gal I know is perpetually in a relationship and they get to have all those lovely dating experiences like going to the movies, having dinner in a romantic restaurant, trips to the fairground, romantic holidays abroad, or even just cuddling up on the sofa – all that nice relationship stuff that you miss out on when you’re single.

And here’s me sat at a computer with messy hair, eating a massive bowl of cereal, realizing that the only long-term committed relationship I’ve ever been in is with my laptop computer. Well hey, at least it’s reliable!

I mean, I’ve dated more guys than I wish to remember. But most of my relationships don’t last longer than a three-course meal. A three-course meal at McDonalds.

Problem is, like a lot of introverts, I’m picky. Because introverts are generally OK on our own, we end up being less desperate and more choosy. And if we let someone in, they have to fit into our introvert lifestyle otherwise we’d go insane! But that doesn’t necessarily mean we like being alone. Some introverts do. But some of us long for a special connection with someone, to share our life with the right person, to put down roots.

But, it’s difficult to meet men in real life if you’re introverted. Or if you’re over 30. And especially if you’re both.

Dating in your thirties is different than dating in your twenties. First of all, once you’re over 30, most men are already married anyway. Else they have tons of baggage like kids, addiction issues, weight issues, kids, divorce, debts, kids.

jay341

Secondly, in your thirties, forty is hanging over you like a big cloud of doom and there’s a sense that, if you’re not already in line, you’d better get in line: get married, get a mortgage, get a family car, have kids, buy a white picket fence, pretend to be living happily ever after. I often relate it to musical chairs. Everyone is trying to find their seat before the music stops (at 40!). Because, like they said in Sleepless in Seattle, you have more chance of getting killed by a terrorist than you have of getting married over 40.

megcrying

Another problem is that online dating tends to be the go-to for introverts (and us older folks) but trying to meet a guy through online dating is difficult. Trust me, I’ve on-and-off online dated for 10 years. Am I in a loving, committed relationship? Yes! With my computer, remember?

A lot of men online are unstable, insecure, and perverted. They think you’re supposed to marry them by the second date. Or sleep with them within an hour of meeting. Or they’re players. Or they’re psychopaths. Usually all of the above. To be fair, I’ve heard a lot of women on dating sites are just as bad. Online dating brings out the worst in people.

Meeting someone in real life is much better. But it’s hard. How do you meet someone in real life?! A typical introvert’s social circle is not particularly big (mine consists mainly of married women and gays). And when you’re over 30, who in your workcircle is not already married with kids?

Well, there’s always Larry…larry

Back to Meg Ryan crying…

megcrying

It guess it’s like Prince said: Until I find my righteous one, computer blue.

Although, I actually have no idea what he meant by that… Oh well, back to my cornflakes.

Trying To Get Ahead

Have you noticed how hard it is to get ahead in life? Not for all of us, of course, just some of us… :side-eyes:

Most of the people I know seem to be doing fine. Perhaps it’s a case of grass-is-greener syndrome but…

I know one woman who lives in a beautiful big house with lots of land and she doesn’t have to work and can spend all day brushing her hair because her boyfriend has a good job. She even had the opportunity to move abroad with him but turned it down. Because her life is so great that, well, it’s just too great and maybe she doesn’t want to overdose on the greatness by taking up such a great opportunity! We should all be so lucky!

Several people in my circle popped out kids to get boyfriend-and-welfare-money, they don’t work and live practically for free.

Some acquaintances of mine – younger than me (how dare they be younger than me!) – have mortgages, cars, families, constant emotional support, and seemingly endless amounts of cash (I need to find where they’re hiding those money trees…).

Other people I see are always getting promoted and are so popular and everyone loves them because they suck ass all day and tell people what they want to hear. They are always being given fantastic opportunities, some of which they turn down, because they can afford to.

I, however… and no, I’m not being self-pitying, just stating some facts… have had to work shitty jobs my entire life, never had a promotion, can’t afford to get a mortgage, can’t afford to buy a car, or any of the other perks that other people seem to have. I don’t understand where I’m going wrong?

I know, I know, I could’ve been born with no arms or legs, I should be grateful. But, y’know, when you look around and you see people living a certain way and you think… HOW!? How did you get that life? And why can’t I get that life? What is your secret?

We compare ourselves with the people we see around us, if they all have X, Y, Z, we feel we should also have X, Y, Z and… why don’t we? Then you start to panic and worry you’re getting left behind. And you wonder… why?! What am I doing wrong?!

Over the last two years, I’ve been trying to test fate and actually make something of my life. But, you know what? Everything I try just falls apart. My friends don’t have to fight for what they want, they just get it. I fight for it and still don’t get it.

I did teacher training but now that’s finished I’m jobless (school’s out for summer, Alice Cooper says so) and sleeping on someone’s sofa at the age of 30-something. I have no home, no car, no kids, no loving supportive boyfriend, my friends ignore me unless they want something, I’m stuck indoors all the time and rapidly incurring debt. I don’t understand where I’m going wrong!!! :frantically squeezes stress ball:

I know what you’re thinking: “You know what, Aliquo? Maybe you have a bad attitude…” You’re right, I do have a bad attitude! But, er, well, so does Donald Trump (god, I hate Donald Trump!) and people put him in charge of a country…, so…, y’know, I don’t think being Mary Poppins is necessarily going to change my situation.

Now, I really wanna do a Masters degree to improve my life prospects. But since I’m only going to do ONE Masters Degree in my life AND it’s 9 months I will never get back, I chose a Masters that would interest me, challenge me and hopefully be a good money earner. Unfortunately, it involves some maths, which I’m not very good at. And I am teetering on the edge of failing my application because I have to do a math aptitude test and I’m now on my third attempt of the damn math aptitude test.

I fear they’re gonna veto me at any moment, because they don’t want fail statistics – but, of course, they still want my money! So I fear they’re gonna drop me down onto the Retard Masters, “for simple people who can’t do stuff” :cries: I know I can learn this math stuff, if they just give me a chance! :toddler tantrum: but that chance seems to be slipping away.

I’m struggling to stay motivated on my third round of this damn test. Doubt is starting to creep in. Maybe everyone’s right about me… maybe I’m useless…

My whole life, people have said:

“No, you can’t do this”, “No, you can’t do that”, “That’s too hard for you,” “You’re stupid”, “We received stronger candidates”, “It was very competitive”, “You’re useless”, “You suck!”, “You’re not quite good enough”.

People say you gotta believe in yourself. But it’s actually kinda hard to believe in yourself when everyone’s telling you you’re not good enough. Sometimes we just need someone to believe in us, someone to say “You got this!” I wish someone would believe in me. Just once.

Forgiveness is a Noun not a Verb

Look, I’m like the least forgiving person on Earth. I don’t do “forgiveness”. But it seems to be really popular these days, I keep coming across this bizarre concept all over the internet when I’m looking for advice on revenge. But there’s something a lot of these “forgiving” people are getting wrong…

My advice to the forgive and forgetters is: if you truly you wanna be all forgiving… that’s fine – but you gotta take note: forgiveness is a noun not a verb. What I mean is that forgiveness is a concrete, solid thing – like a big boulder or something. It’s a commitment you make to yourself – yourself, yourself – not other people – to improve the condition of your soul. You can’t just say you forgive someone and magically you acquire inner peace or something, it don’t work that way.

There was this chick the other day, prattling on about her ex for an hour and a half, and then she ended by saying, “But, of course, I forgive him”. Well… if she’d forgiven him she wouldn’t have just wasted 1.5 hours of her precious existence talking about how much she hates him. Think of all the things she could’ve done with that hour and a half…!

In 1.5 hours you can:

  • Learn to say “I love you” in 10 languages
  • Learn how to juggle
  • How to play “Let It Be” by The Beatles on a keyboard
  • How to make a Spanish omelette and actually make one and eat the damn thing – twice!

What a wasted opportunity!

I know that applies to me too, I’ve wasted at least – at least! – 7 years on revenge, and that other fun “R” word: Regret. I could’ve become a Guitar Hero in that length of time! But, hey, I accept my fate, because verb-ing it doesn’t make it so and I can’t turn it into a noun unless I have some Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind treatment done on my brain.

If you can forgive and forget the people who’ve wrong you then good on you, think of all the Spanish omelettes you can make with your ample free time! Just make sure your behavior is matching the words coming out of your mouth otherwise you’ll have to come join me on the Raft of Revenge, and no “Let It Be” for you!

 

My Student is Still Hot

What? I ain’t blind!

So I saw my student again today – the hot one. Recap: He’s hot, I think he’s hot, wow he’s so hot.

He’s a mature student – don’t shoot me! And … And … and – wait I have more excuses… and, oh yes! And, he’s only going to be my student for a further two or three hours then weirdly I become his student. Cause he’s a trainee teacher and so am I… and I need tutoring……..

He can tutor me any time!

I actually just totally make excuses to be around this guy cause he makes me happy. Guys have never been anything but abusive to me so it’s kinda nice to be around a guy who is friendly and warm and makes me laugh – this is new to me.

But I’m not even dating my student or anything, he’s way too good looking…

My view is, if a guy is that good looking he’s either:
a) messed up in the head
b) married with kids
c)  a player
d) a vampire

I’m thinking c right now…or d….
I know you guys are gonna be like “What about gay…?” He ain’t gay, no way, no how. He is giving off way too many hetero vibes to be gay.

But see, I wouldn’t date him because:
a) he’s my student and my future teacher
b) he’s probably a player
c) I have plans! I ain’t p*ssing my dreams away for some guy. Been there, done that, learned the lesson: Ain’t no man worth p*ssing your dreams away for.

He sure is cute though – hot damn!

 

My Student Is So Hot!

Hold up! Hold up! Hold up! Wait a minute now before you start cussing me out, ok?

Now, first of all – he ain’t no child, ok? He’s probably older than me! He’s a grown a$$ man. A very grown-a$$ man. A very sexy, very grown-a$$ man and I’d sure as heck like to put my hands on his grown a$$.

Second, I take my role as a teacher very seriously…

Third, he is so hot! Like John Legend in a bath of whipped cream during a heatwave level hot! Amen!

Fourth, this guy wouldn’t give me the time of day. In fact, if I wasn’t his tutor, he wouldn’t have anything to do with my mongrel-looking self. So, it’s not like I’m trying to get with him or hoping to get with him or as if I think I have any chance of getting with him. And he’s my student, so…

I just think he’s hot. Being his tutor doesn’t make me suddenly blind to what a fine-a$$ mother he is!

I’d actually only tutored him once until today and was almost thinking maybe I imagined he was really hot, like maybe he wasn’t actually that hot and I’d just misremembered. I was having this argument with myself on the way to my second lesson with him. I’m a Gemini (the twin sign) and we Geminians all have multiple-personality disorder.

While walking down the corridor, one of me was like “He was so hot!” and the other me was like, “Nah, he wasn’t that hot, you’re misremembering” and the other me was like, “No, he was hot, I’m sure of it!” and the other me was like, “Well, we’ll see in a few minutes.”

Then I turned the corner and there he was at a computer. And, damn, he wasn’t just hot, he was even hotter than I remembered. Me, myself and I totally hi-5’ed each other. Man, he’s smokin’! Baby, baby, baby, come to momma!

Look, anyone who knows me – which is probably nobody because I have no friends – but if someone did know me they’d know that I have the sex drive of a cactus. A dead cactus. A dead cactus in an old, dead, dry desert. Ok? In case you were thinking I get the hots for every guy I see or something. I am dead from the waist down. In fact, I’m surprised there ain’t cobwebs and spiders down there, and bats coming out. My point is, it takes one hell of a guy to make me soft and wet, honey.

Part of the problem is I’m not attracted to 99.9% of dudes. Because I like a very specific type of guy. And on the rare occasions that I’m lucky enough to meet my type of guy, something goes wrong – the last one was married with kids, the one before was an arrogant c*nt, the one before that turned out to be a crazy stalker and his kisses tasted like sh** (:shudder:). The guy I was crushing on before that was the artist, Prince, so, y’know, kinda out of my league, and Little Richard never visits me so f*** him!

Quite often the guys I like are already taken or they have kids or other baggage or they’re players or they’re a$$holes, or we want different things – oh and the big thing is that usually they’re not interested in me – at all – because they’re hot, sexy, good-looking, smooth, hot, sexy, genius black guys and I’m this creepy, emaciated, spotty, frizzy-haired, bug-eyed, E.T-fingered, white, urchin creature, so…. It’s hard enough to get a dude if you’re good-looking and not picky about who you date. If you’re ugly and picky, well, you don’t stand much chance.

It’s not that I don’t date, but I end up having to date guys I’m not actually interested in and I don’t know how other women manage to fake enthusiasm for a guy they don’t give a sh** about. I used to date this fat white f**ker and he was so fat and white and would chew with his mouth open and he had dandruff in his hair and he smelled of sweat and he kept getting fatter and fatter and he ignored me all the time and kept looking at other women but would claim he “lurved” me. Pff! I was miserable. I thought, f**k this sh**! This fat f**ker makes being single look like winning the lottery!

Anyway, my hot student is probably married with 20 kids. And he’s my student. And he wouldn’t look at me even if he was available. But whatevs, a girl can dream, right?! Mhm, John Legend in a bath of whipped cream during a heatwave!

Good night!

 

Open Letter to a Married Female Friend

Dear Stacey,

I hate you. Oh, by the way, I also hate your husband, Todd. I hate you both. Do you know why I hate you both, Stacey? Because you’re so f***ing perfect. Even your damn names are perfect! Todd & Stacey. Stacey & Todd. Wtf?! You and your perfect husband with your perfect jobs and your perfect lives and your perfect car in your perfect garage in your perfect house with it’s perfect “matching colors” kitchen with your perfect “His & Hers” coffee mugs to fill with freshly ground organic coffee from your perfect coffee machine and then sit on your perfect deck in your perfect garden and say “Hi” to your perfect neighbors in your perfect neighborhood. How is this even real?!

Stacey, people like you are supposed to only exist in fictional stories. In fact, it’s like you just stepped right out of a Fairytale and came to life. How do things like this happen, Stacey? What cosmic occurrence lead to the string of events that lead to people like you and Todd existing? Why did every single thing in your life go so wonderfully, perfectly right, Stacey?

Why?!

Do you know what “worry” is, Stacey? No, you don’t. Do you know what “bills” are? Of course you don’t! Your perfect, rich, successful husband deals with all the bills so you never have to worry your pretty little head about it. You’re only stressed because you have so many champagne luncheons to go to and parties to throw and invites to send and how will you ever have the time to fit in your horse-riding and Pilates classes?  That’s like your idea of Defcon 5, isn’t it, Stacey? You can’t even fathom real problems!

I can only dream of your life, Stacey. Well, actually, no, that’s not quite true because I’m your friend so I have to watch you live your wonderfully, smooth and glossy, picture-perfect life while I sit on the other side of the fence with my broken life and broken teeth and broken heart, hoping I’ll be able to find some broken man and afford a broken shack in Crimesville sometime before I die of malnourishment or murder.

I hate you, Stacey. Because you have choices. You’ve always had choices, from the moment you were born. Who do I want to be friends with? What toys do I want for Christmas? What clothes shall I wear? Do I want a brown pony or a white pony? Where do I want to study? Which car do I want daddy to buy me for my 17th birthday? Who do I want to date? Where do I want to live? Who do I want to marry? You got to CHOOSE all these things, Stacey! You didn’t have to work for anything, you didn’t have to fight for anything, you didn’t have to settle for second best – or third, or fourth – you didn’t have to accept acceptable or deal with endless disappointment and rejection.

Ever.

You don’t even know what disappointment and rejection are. You’d have to look them up in the dictionary. You don’t know what it’s like to go without something, to long for something you can never, ever have. Every single thing just worked out so hot damn wonderfully for you, didn’t it, Stacey? Why?! What makes you so deserving of a wonderful life? And worst of all, because you were born into it, you don’t even comprehend how fantastic it is! You sit there and complain that your cinnamon spiced chai latte isn’t “chai” enough. Wtf, Stacey?!

F*** you, Stacey!

P.S. See you next weekend.

Love,

Your friend, Aliquo.

 

 

Stupid Sh*t Married Female Friends Say

  • Being alone is cool!” Oh, really, Stacey? You think so, do you? Then how come you’ve been constantly dating since you were 12.
  • “You’ve got to learn to be comfortable alone!” Oh, really, Stacey? More wisdom about being alone, huh?  How f*cking insightful of you, Stacey! Look, if I wasn’t comfortable being alone then I probably wouldn’t be alone, would I?
  • “Don’t worry, you’ll find someone!” First, Stacey, I’m not worried, so you can stop worrying that I’m worried, ok? Secondly, Stacey, I’m not trying to find “someone”, if I wanted “someone” I could just go scour the local bars, ok Stacey?
  • “There’s more to life than finding a man!” Really, Stacey? I hadn’t noticed.
  • “Men just don’t realise how wonderful you are!” WTF, Stacey, I’m busy building a time machine, I don’t give a sh*t!
  • “It’s good that you have such high standards!” Opens can of beer and starts drinking.
  • “Use this time to learn about yourself!” I’m 30-odd Stacey, I think I know where my clitoris is now, but thanks for caring.
  • “Uncertainty breeds opportunity!” Stacey…. Is this another one of those dumb quotes you found on Tumblr or something?
  • “Learn to love yourself!” Shut the f*ck up, Stacey!
  • “There’s plenty of fish in the sea!” Stacey, d’ya think Todd would mind if I drowned you in the pool?