Not long after McHungry I got speaking to a nice guy from a town not far away and we decided to meet for a drink then go for a walk, he was easy to chat to and very polite but unfortunately I didn’t think it would go much further. I also met another nice guy from a little further away that again I got on really well with but after realising I was at a very different stage in life to him we decided to only speak as friends. This is quite nice as we randomly chat now and again about films etc and have a good laugh.
Obviously you get the odd random message from people every now and again but quite often they don’t go further than Hello, there have been a few that have messaged and I’ve politely declined further conversation. One of these was a young guy who messaged one morning fairly early.
He seemed polite but on further inspection I realised he was only 21 and really not my type (I prefer taller and bigger built people so there is less chance of me squashing them with a cuddle)! So I replied saying something along the lines of ‘Thanks for the message but I’m afraid you are a bit young’! Normally in this situation it would prompt an ‘ok, bye’ comment in return… This was not a normal situation.
He replied telling me “But I like your face”.
Great but still no… Again he replied “I need older woman to take care of me”
Thats what Mothers are for… Again he replied “You give me chance, I show you, I like you a lot”!
He seriously wasn’t getting the hint and I was still trying to be polite. My biggest problem was everytime I tried to send a message in response I would get at least four more while I typed. My poor phone was going crazy and I simply couldn’t type quick enough. More and more messages came through saying some of the following: “You meet me, I show you”, “Please, I like your face”, “I want you as a girlfriend”, “I am not young”, “I like older lady”, “I want someone take care of me”, “You will see I am nice”… Blah blah blah!
By this time I was not only becoming less and less patient but I also had the urge to throw my phone at the wall just for peace. I threatened to block him if he didn’t take no for an answer which finally seemed to work, but then *Beep beep, New Message*
“You like me, I show you good time!”
URGH… No, I most definitely do not need you to show me a good time, I would most likely of been chopped up and put in a curry by the way he went on!
BLOCKED! The peace was bliss!
Online dating still seemed a very new idea to me and I was very suspicious. Not one of these people that think I’m invincible… People get hurt from things like this! But in fairness just as many people get hurt from going on the drink at weekends, whether its because their stripper heels cannot hold their weight, 15 sambuca ‘s disagreed with their memory or their drinks were spiked! So everything in moderation and do not give out personal details.
My name was shortened and only has a last initial. My home town is quite large so I only put my town name and thankfully the account doesn’t ask for personal details like phone numbers etc, although I don’t doubt that people will advertise their numbers, I was brought up to be a little more cautious. I also couldn’t be slavered with having to change it every five minutes if someone less stable got intrigued.
There are three ways to initiate contact with someone or express you are interested. You can either go to your ‘meet section’ and view peoples profiles to decide if you would be interested in meeting them. If they feel the same they can either agree they would like to meet you which usually leads to messaging each other for however long you both think is appropriate before dashing out to meet. You could just message them without worrying about the meet section or alternatively you can completely ignore someone. You can add someone to your favourites. Personally this is only something I would do after speaking and deciding I like them and were hoping to meet or had already. Finally you can just message someone right off. Messages can be ignored, deleted or blocked if the user is a bit OTT. McHungry appeared on the scene with a message. Hs message was as weird as I thought online dating would get.
McHungry got blocked….
Casually minding my own business when I received a notification to say I had a message. I clicked on to this persons profile first to have a look at their intentions and interests, also their age etc. seemed fine, nothing stood out. Continued to the message, the message said somethiing like the following;
“Hi, your profile is yummy, really yummy. It’s so yummy I could just eat it, mmmmmmm. Xxx”
MAKE A SANDWICH WEIRDASS!
It’s been a while since I wrote anything and after a week of noticing I’ve been clenching my teeth (my stressed signal) I felt I best start scribbling!
I had a casual conversation with a girl at work about the disasters of Online Dating and she suggested the ‘Bums in the Borders’ title. I actually think this could become a theme and if past experiences are anything to go by then you will get a good giggle reading this. Lets start at the beginning…
I’m 24, had three relationships, the first with someone who is still a friend and still highly thought of, very sweet guy who is happily loved up again and I can honestly say I’m pleased for him. We were young, ended up as friends and called it a day. Then there was an interesting fellow who blamed everything on lifes troubles (nothing to do with the Weed and Coke I eventually discovered he took), anyhow I saw sense long after I should of and bolted. Then I met someone who I thought was the man of my dreams, said all the right stuff, seemed to want a future with me but without going into to much detail it was a complete disaster that ended early this year with me being left self conscious, heart broken, extremely skint and over weight (might as well blame him for that too)! To make it simple I’ll give them names that follow in the Greys Anatomy theme. McLovely, McBald, McGuilt-Trip!
After splitting with McGuilt-Trip I got my promotion permanently and moved 60miles away from home to be closer to work as well as to get a fresh start fending for myself. So far so good!!!! Come May I mentioned to a friend that it would be nice to meet someone closer to home to spend time with, do fun stuff with and maybe even end up together… I’m doing well in life and would just be nice to share the good stuff with someone without stress or drama. At this point she mentioned a dating site she had joined and how easy/safe it was! Hmmmmmm? Ok then! Signed up, free (even better), wrote a little bit about myself that did not include personal details that stalkers etc could find you through. This was very new and felt very grown up. No one could of prepared me for the next few months! My aim is to write a blog about each individual experience!
McGay – Lived a fair trek away which later became my reason for ending our conversations. Seemed very mature which was a huge bonus as I am quite mature for my age (not to be confused with boring)! He had a job, a car, experience living on his own, had travelled and seemed sensible (my Dad would of been pleased)! So we spoke for a while about interests, flaws, what we thought of the site, our jobs, a little bit of everything… It was really nice! Then one night he asked me if I was experimental and explained that he had ‘tried cock’! HOLY COW ON A BIKE! Deep breaths and a quick call to my friend to discuss if this was a normal thing. After calming down and me refraining from judging I asked him to explain… He was young, curious but decided he is definitely straight. Oh by the way I did not ask him to elaborate on what part he tried… Somethings are better left unsaid! I decided not to be judgemental and except that people can be curious and rather that than drugs, so we chatted for a day or so more.
Curiosity got the better of me and I wanted to hear his voice so asked if I could call him… He was pleasant, charming and a total snooze fest! He talked continuously without breath. Again this is ok, nervous maybe? But he mentioned something about having 2000 ‘fans’… Turns out on a Friday, EVERY FRIDAY he plays dungeons and dragons with his fans and they ‘become’ the characters they are playing… Which explained why he wanted me to call him Master! Dear me, my poor Dad would be having a heart attack. Kindly told him I thought he was lovely but the travelling wasn’t for me…..!
And there it began.
This blogging thing is not as easier as I first anticipated. My mind is full of blogging topics lined up in a neat little row waiting to be blurted out. However I find when I start they muddle and blur together to make a giant blog fuzz.
Preventing myself from ranting about the most recent thing to pee me off is rather difficult, especially when it is a topic I value so greatly. Yet writing happy topics requires that smile as you type and sometimes it is just not realistic to expect it to be there on demand.
I want to inspire.
I want my writing to be meaningful… even about topics we normally wouldn’t give a second thought. Choosing from the giant topic fuzz has become increasingly difficult yet I’m not even in double figures.
Gosh who knew this would be so challenging?
Males and people likely to boak should not read the following…
I was 21 and living in the Scottish Borders when I received my first appointment through the post explaining I was due a Smear. I didn’t think a great deal about it and was more worried about flashing my foof to a nurse than what the results would be! I’m now 23 (and a half), had 8 smears, one biopsy and some laser treatment. The reason I’m writing a blog on this is because, like a lot of people I was terrified when the first results came through, I would at least like someone to know someone else has gone through it too.
The first smear was fine. I was a barrel of nerves and think I must have washed about 6 times in the shower to make sure I was as clean as possible… last thing you want when you take off your knickers is green fumes coming out of them! The nurse was lovely and explained the procedure well to put me at ease. So I wasn’t too surprised when the nurse asked me to strip my bottom half, lie on the bed, bend my legs and with my feet together let my knees drop as low as possible. Thank goodness I’m Flexible! I was still a wreck with nerves so wasn’t overly amused when the duck clamps appeared. Duck clamps go in you, they then ease you open, smear taken, job done! Wait four weeks for the result. Well my result would be fine… wouldn’t it?
Got to admit the panic set in when the results landed on my door step, it only increased when I read ‘Inconclusive’. What did this mean? Thankfully a friend calmed me down and explained in her best way possible that actually this was really normal for a lot of women and not to panic, it merely meant they didn’t get enough cells. Back for Smear number two.
Number two was much the same but with the result ‘ABNORMAL CELLS’. Another panicked call to a friend who explained again this is a regular thing for a lot of people and I’m not half Alien! It wasn’t till number three I had the urge to nut the nurse. After being violated by the duck clamps for a third time (baring in mind they cover them in cold jelly first just to make you shiver) she then stopped, looked up and casually asked how I felt! “Well love, you’ve just inserted freezing cold plastic clamps into my lady hole, cracked me open and then paused for thought… I’m f**king fantastic” was what I would of liked to have said however I think I squeaked that I was fine instead.
Smear four and onwards were completed at the local hospital in a clinic I’ve never been able to pronounce. Col-pos-cop-y, or something to that effect. Being personally phoned by a Doctor and told you will be referred to the hospital is slightly terrifying and I was convinced they were going to tell me I had cervical Cancer. This is a tough thing to put out your mind as the wait between appointments is usually 6 months and my results continued to come back ‘Abnormal’.
By appointment number five I was aware they might take a Biopsy and having no pain threshold at all I had to drag my Mum along. Anyone who has had a smear done in the hospital might be aware that not only is the doctor looking inside you but they put it on a TV screen next to your head for you to see too. Lovely, always wanted to see inside my Vagina… My bucket list is complete! Got to admit the Biopsy hurt, not the first snip of flesh, but the second and third weren’t to comfortable. Oh and I forgot to mention… No sex for a month… A WHOLE MONTH! It sucks being female, give me a kick in the nuts any day.
I waited what felt like a life time for the results and even remember saying to my Mum that I wished they would just treat me and get it over and done with. As you can imagine by the time you’ve had five smears and a Biopsy you start to see things in a different light. The duck clamps have been more appropriately named ‘The Jaws of Death’! You can hear the quiet noise the clamps make when they are opening and it sounds fairly similar to an old fashion wind up toy. (After five visits you notice things in much more detail)! Well finally the results arrived and I had low grade something or other which yip you guessed it, lead to Smears number 6, 7 and 8!!!!!!!!!!
Seven was finally my treatment. My unsuspecting boyfriend had to chum me to this and thankfully as he was sitting at my head he did not have the view the Doctor had. However I seem to remember him making a comment when we came out about watching what they were doing on the TV screen and it being ‘cool’! Cool isn’t really how I would describe getting injections and then laser treatment to the Lady Garden. Although I was pleasantly surprised that the anaesthetic didn’t have the fact effect as it does in the Dentists. Yes it does numb things obviously, but after getting your teeth done you usually feel like your jaw is hanging off and feeling massive. Thankfully my lady parts didn’t feel massive or like they were falling out, so that was a big bonus. I felt so much better after having the treatment and have just attended my eighth appointment to get the results and find out if it worked. Fingers crossed it did and then I can go back every three years. If not then I’m back for yearly appointments and I guess more treatment.
I really wanted to write about this because although it sounds like I’ve had an ordeal can you imagine never knowing at 23 that your life could be at risk in the future? I at least can say I’ve been dealing with it and trying to prevent anything more serious developing and I really do urge others to do the same. Don’t be scared of the tests, it will be worth it in the end. Just remember one thing… do NOT ask the Nurse if they have any pads. You would think after eight smears I would remember my own one, nope! The Nurse pulled out what I can only describe as a gigantic cushion with the potential to absorb half the Pacific Ocean… At least I got a giggle.
Good Luck Ladies!
How many of us when we were young were so excited by the thought of getting to drink because we knew we were under age? I bet the same amount of young ones still screw their face up when they take each sip because lets be honest, most alcohol tastes bloody vile!
I dread the times when people say ‘try this, it’s really nice‘. It can be as nice as it likes but 99% of the time alcohol still tastes like total shit to me!
Now I am aware that I am a bit of a rare species, and I know that because when I tell people I don’t drink they appear so shocked and usually question whether I am being truthful. I put this to the test one day and told someone I had once been locked up for committing murder… they did not question me, disbelieve me, or in fact seem the slightest bit shocked. Yet when I told them I was joking but was in fact a non-drinker the response was “WHAT? You don’t drink? Like ever ever drink? WHY?” Well my friends perhaps it’s because alcohol bares no meaning in my life. I do NOT judge people who like a drink, in fact I have maybe used Tee Total in the wrong sense. I will have a glass of bubbly at a wedding or on Christmas Day (usually ends up that I am quite p*ssed by the bottom of the glass), I sometimes in-delve in the odd bevy at a night time or a hot summer day just for a different flavour… but by no means do I ever drink on a night out or drink more than maybe three drinks in one sitting!
How shocking considering I am 23! No, I am not a recovered alcoholic keeping tight hold of my reigns. No, I was never a violent drunk about to lose all who loved me and push my criminal record to new heights. No, I most definitely did not open my legs a little too wide the more I drank. I merely decided not to drink and the reasons are as follows…
I am a complete and utter light weight. I hate the feeling of not being in control. One of my friends are ALWAYS so hammered it would be a complete crime to allow them to find their own way home (yes, you know exactly who you are) so I prefer to drive and sleep easy. I do NOT trust even the nicest of people with alcohol in them, unfortunately at some point a drunk person will lose sight of the importance of things. Whether it be their morals, their good behaviour, or the ability to find a suitable place to spew. I could not afford to spend what others to on drink. Lastly, the only time I ever blacked out and have no memory of events was at the age of 6, playing Chinese Tig in the playground when an older lad called Jason apparently ran into me sending me flying only to be greeted by a not so soft concrete floor. I still have the bald spot to prove it no thanks to the ‘Traumatic Alopecia’ of whatever the Doc called it, so I would like this to remain my only black out.
How bad is it these days when people would rather believe you can commit murder over staying sober on a night out? But I seem to have had little choice. Test it one day, try telling people you only want ‘a couple’… Don’t worry you won’t get only two drinks. I tried time and time again to put this theory into effect but sadly the more drunk everyone else got the less likely it was that they would only buy me one drink. What the hell is wrong with that I hear you say. Nothing is you are happy to be bladdered, but when you see friends wasting their money and feel yourself getting more and more out of your depth it stops being even remotely worth it. A diet coke suffices these days and thankfully I was blessed with having enough confidence to shake my arse as awfully as I like without worrying what people think (mainly because when I see the state of people I know they won’t remember just how wobbly by arse was).
Some will see this post as a rant or something that tries to change others perspectives but those of you who know me are aware I do not judge if people like a drink, get drunk, or even use their nice new outfits as spew holders. It’s a part of life.
Perhaps the only thing that riles me is when people say, “I need a drink!” No mate, no you don’t… you NEED Oxygen, you WANT a drink!!!!