2013 sucked in many ways with tension, stress and other things but it’s also been great as I started Decluttr Me, moved into my lovely apartment, went on lots of holidays in the Middle East, became spot free and got Oreo.
Still no man in my life who doesn’t irritate the hell out of me but I’m sure one day one man will turn up who is not a freakazoid.
Thanks if you were involved in the goods times, you have been blocked if you were involved in the bad times. Roll on 2014.
Men are everywhere. Some are cute, some are psycho, some are goddamn minging and some are gay.
Very few come within my radar due to me being too scary, minging in their eyes, not Indian enough, not English enough or too girlie which is shocks them.
There are moments when they suddenly step into my radar and give me some attention. Then they realise im not the strong willed woman they were imaginging in their head and they run away.
This seems to be a recurring thing. I don’t have to say much. I don’t have to do much. I just act like me and poof they run away again.
The other weekend I got attention far exceeding anything before, from an old crush. He spent a few days reassuring me he wasnt messing around with my heart and mind and was sincere. He has known me for years, since me being scary lawyer like at work, and calm gentle lady in private. He accepts my analness as part of my character and laughs at my moments of silliness.
However, last night he freaked out. Today nothing (he has this knack of ignoring my existence if he doesn’t like the image i’m portraying to him at any given time).
Now i’m back to being unhappy, lonely and unforgiving on myself. Once again I let a retard into my life for a short moment of europhia. It’s like a drug that makes you high and then its taken away from you and the come down is more painful than five injections on your body.
I wonder if there is a pill that can cure my stupidity when it comes to men. Or if God will stop punishing me and bring me a man who can accept my words, faults and occasional blondness. For now I am wallowing until I can find something or someone to cheer me up again.
Recently a new obsession has arisen with salt and pepper hair men a la George C and Dermot Mulroney (he is soooo swoonsome in New Girl currently).
The salt and pepper hair man is older, refinded, cultured and mature on the outside. They like good food and can chat without belching.The other positive is that they are great arm candy. I would prefer to have a man looking like above holding me rather than a justin beiber/one direction wannabe.
I recently went out with a salt and pepper hair man. He was close to his forties and had an air of maturity that is lost with these twenty somethings and early thirty guys who have been buzzing around. He was from eastern europe so there was a bit of a culture clash going on (not emotional visibly; deadpan), but I didn’t care when I could run my hand through his peppery hair.
He was a muppet (as are all men I seem to be attraced to) but for a brief time I had moved onto a different level of speciman. It was a brief dalliance, but it ticked all the right buttons for me at this time of my life.
While I wait for something more long term, I’m going to be pursuing these men rather than accepting the child-boy into my life.
Isn’t it funny how you are stuck with random people in a plane for several hours. Sometimes it can be hell and sometimes it can hilarious.
My last flight to and from london was on virgin. The service was shit and the hosties were rude and they put me on a middle seat despite me booking an aisle seat months before. But I was lucky. I had an Irish boy and a Bristol man beside me making me laugh for the whole journey. We watched the same movie together and were rude to the hosties.
Coming back was another story. It was a night flight. I had a handsome quiet Irish man next to me. Throughout the flight we tried to sleep in our uncomfortable seats. Eventually I fell asleep on his back and we went to blissful sleep for a while. The man was a stranger. We had hardly spoken but in the skies we could sleep together and it wouldn’t be slutty or wrong.
When we woke being British I apologised for sleeping on him. He didn’t mind. He didn’t say much but his shy smile was enough.
We didn’t exchange numbers or talk much after. The moment had passed. However the bad flight had turned into a blissful time.
Have you ever noticed how Motown produced soulful, funky tunes, that could and would apply to that time in your life??
Today, it is the Supremes and the amazing “You can’t hurry love” which applies to my life at this point. I can’t find a full live version so have a bit of ed sullivan and their sparkly dresses to lighten up your life:
Today, I met my brother, his girlfriend and the giant bump. The giant bump, otherwise known as my future nephew/niece, should be a happy occasion. I am looking forward to being Auntie Shel but there is a huge part of me that is mixed with jealousy, pity and piss annoyance. My brother is sorted now, he has a brilliant career, house, girlfriend, future baby, car and money. I have a car, cat, stress-filled career and lots of clothes. The boyfriend situation well that’s another story and the house can’t happen due to the money situation.
I am one of those idiots that fell for a “friend’s” investor idea in the boom and have ended up paying really badly for it. The arsehole ran away from Dubai and left me with debts that will take me two years to clear (that’s a positive outlook). The fact that I should now be at the age where I should be financially stable is one of the worst parts of being in this situation, as well as my brother giving me a pitying/condescending look or conversation about my stupidity. I was always a saver and able to live the designer life and now thanks to this stupid moment I now struggle to live and have gone through moments that I do not wish on anyone (except maybe said arsehole).
I now spend my days dreaming of winning the lottery or getting a super extreme pay rise that will make it all disappear. Sometimes I even hope that the A-hole will actually pay me back all the money he took which he has promised to do for over a year. It’s a dream and I have been in reality for too long to believe the latter will occur.
On a plus I have learnt a huge lesson from this moment in my life and now know that I will only put my money on designer bags and saving accounts and that I will never trust a brit Asian with my money ever again. I also know which banks are lovely and which aren’t (I will reveal that one day).
For now I work to live, but luckily I have amazing parents and friends who have supported me through my turbulent stupid moments in the last few years. Without them I don’t think I would be here writing this blog.
Now, I have to move on and not dwell on the past, but think forward to the future and a little child that is joining our family very soon and also the other fabulous things that will hopefully happen in my life from now onwards.
Shelo9's Cheeky Rantings 