Growing up, guys used to make that special effort, they used to say I was the marrying kind not the fucking kind behind my back.

So what on earth happened between 20 and 27?!


Playboys and the Western world

I am about as single as one could be right now.  I made out with someone in the stock room in work.  This guy just looks at me and I want to undress.  The sex incredible etc.  But we hadn’t done anything for a month,  then I find myself making out with him in work. 

This is the day after the guy that should be made for me asked me to be his girlfriend. And I told him that I had to think about it.  He was perfect,  patient,  funny and kind.  But I didn’t want to have sex with him. Thats an issue isn’t it?

Then I went on a date,  and made out with him,  and made out with a random guy in a club.  I am a playboy peeps. 

Added to that. The stock room guy,  looks like he was sleeping with two girls at the same time.  He is the ultimate asshole,  especially considering I had asked about his relationship with the next door neighbour,  turns out that was a blatant lie. 

I am tired.  I have an ear infection and I am not making a whole lot of sense. Yay autoimmune diseases.

Feminism and me

I am a feminist. I love being a feminist. I love standing up for what is right and supporting people.

I have started volunteering with the rape crisis centre and I love it. It is so interesting to share experiences with each other in a safe environment that show us that we are assaulted in one way or another and it has become normalised to a point that we don’t even discuss it anymore.

Wolf whistle here, stalking there, dates that get too gropey, men that don’t hear “no” and we have a narrow (if we are lucky) escape. It really worries me, it hurts my soul.

All men can be rapists. That’s a fact. They have the anatomy and the strength to overpower us and take advantage. If they have that in them they probably don’t even know. They see other men that attack as “them”; the bad guys. Then they go and lie to a girl to get her to sleep with them and don’t see how they are bad guys too.

I am fed up of the double standards, the victim blaming and the way that when each and every woman told her story she felt like she had to explain her clothing choice and all the precautions she had taken before her attack to PROVE that it wasn’t her fault.

I have been told it is normal to go through an “I hate all men” phase. I am fighting it with all my might and I know that a lot of women attack and undermine eachother and there is a lack of education and yadda yadda yadda. But seriously. I am in pain with all the stories, feelings and emotions.

There is a positive. I have met some of the most wonderful women in the training group and I am excited to get cloer to each and every single one of them. We are all so kind, thoughtful and supportive. At this point they are my Vancouver family and I don’t know what I would do without them.

It is sad that it takes a common enemy to bring people together.

Health. The gift that keeps on giving

So today I finally got my appointment at the gyno. And yeah. I thought I had endometriosis, and it turns out that it is pretty certain that I do in fact have it.

They think I have a rare kind where the tissue grows on the nerves that lead down to my legs. So yeah. I have two types of shitty things where my body just hates me. I just want my Mamma.

So basically if I changed my mind about wanting kids, it would be really REALLY hard for me to actually get pregnant. My gyno does work a lot with IBD people a lot though so she knows her shit. ARGH FML.

Irish men and porn

I have realised something. In thinking about the sex that I have had, the sex that I have enjoyed, the sex I have not, and the sex that has gotten downright weird.

Do you know what the weird ones have in common? Yep, you have it! They have all been Irish. They just don’t look at you right. They jackhammer you while looking at you but not really looking at you. They have this way of looking at a body part and concentrating on that one place. They don’t seem to see the whole you, they see you in these snapshots like the camera would focus in on a POV porn.

The non-Irish guys look at you. Like proper look at you, even if it is just a casual thing, they actually know that they are having sex with you and not just some tits and ass. Then if you say, slower, or harder, or up or down they actually listen to you. They know what you want because they listen to you, they watch you and they actually feel you.

I found out that my ex colleague has some sort of image blog. He reposts videos, pictures and Gifs, and also takes pictures of his dairylea shaped penis doing stuff. He was asking me if I wanted to be his next model or some shit. He actually makes me gag. He thought I would actually go for being jackhammered again AFTER he tore my personality apart. What a fucking tool.

Bye bye Stephen pt. 2. Go be a tool somewhere else. Oh and while you are at it? Lay of the porn because it really is not helping your performance. You were quite literally, the worst sex of my life. And that includes 2 second dude and babies penis.


I know my body.  I know when there is something wrong.  I go to doctors as a very last result.  Please listen to me when I tell you that there is something not right and that yes,  my immune system is compromised by meds so please take me seriously. 

But no.  Ignore me.  Decide all I need to do is gargle with salt and water.  Waste my time and put my health at further risk.  Douche.

When the sex is that good

And when I say good. I mean bloody amazing.  While I have a throat infection,  we still managed it for around nine hours.  With maybe,  like an hour break. 

The problem (yes,  there is always a problem isn’t there) is that before I met him I decided that I didn’t want a fuck buddy.  I want to date someone,  kinda get to know them.  See where it goes type of thing.  Not let it engulf me like Big,  but have something more then just sex. 

But after wanting  that,  he has now admitted that it  has become more of a sexual thing for him now and he can’t figure out if he wants to date me or not. 
It is seriously frustrating,  we are just very compatible.  The sex is only going to get better and it is already just bordering on the mind blowing.  Thing is I wouldn’t have an issue if the sex was so so.  No way I could fall for a guy like that.  But with him,  I don’t know yet,  but I could get hurt and I guess I just think I am the whole package.  I am funny, kind, independent, amazing in the sack, and damned hot.  I also take no shit. 

Why on earth wouldn’t he want to date me?!

Ghosts and other beings

I think my apartment is haunted.  I call him Gerry. Gerry with a “G” is nice.  He has made some mistakes but he seems to be stuck here repenting them.  That’s how I feel about him anyway. 

I am not scared of Gerry.  Why would I be? People I meet every day walking around are more likely to cause me pain and anguish then anything that is stuck here even though they should be on another plain.

Now in fairness.  It is past 1am and I am fucking exhausted.  I can’t sleep and I am scared to dream.  I am going  to get really dark for a second too.  I kinda made a promise to myself that I will only keep doing this while my mam is around as losing me would kill her.  I hate that I think this way ever.  I hate that I have that dramatic element and I hate the fact that I am on the fence as to whether or not it is a attention thing (I haven’t told anyone btw) or if it is something that I actually will follow through on. 

Things it is easy to forget

When I was at my lowest, after Stephen left and I found myself living alone I saw something in the amazing shop that is Penneys. It is a cushion. White with rainbow writing, “Everyday may not be good, but there is something good in every day”.

Now I am not usually one for inspirational quotes and especially not inspirational quotes on cushions, but this spoke to me, and I got it. I also got a rainbow blanket to match, and these things followed me over to Canada. They are on my rocking chair. I see them every day but they just don’t compute with me sometimes.

Today is one of those days. My life has turned into some sort of a shit storm if I am honest. I have been demoted in work. They are basically taking the one reason for me to be in this country away from me. Don’t get me wrong, I hate my job. I loath it. I love my staff but I hate head office so much. I hate their lack of concern for the store, the fact that they have given me no support, now they ship in the new District Manager and instead of saying “What can I do to help?” they say “We are going to demote you to Assistant Manager again, back in your old store and bring someone new in”.

Yesterday, I spent the whole day on and off the phone to police trying to get them to warn my father to stay away from me and not harass me anymore. Now this.

I actually wonder how people get lives that just plod along. You know? Simple enough, no huge dramas, well maybe one or two but nothing like this. For me it is just BAM BAM BAM. I like to think that everything happens for a reason. But honestly? I am struggling to work out why the universe likes to just take a shit storm at my door every time I seem to get my life on some sort of track. I am half expecting to go into a Crohns flare. You know. Just because the universe can do that to me.

Now don’t get me wrong. I know that so many people have it worse then me. But there are only so many times in my life that I can hear “It’s okay, you are a tough cookie, you will get through it.”



I like to believe in karma, I really do. but seriously. I have not been a bad person. Maybe a couple of times I have hurt people, but I have felt so bad about it I have punished myself for that. What on earth can I do to get a stable life?

Living alone in a foreign country sucks. Like seriously sucks. Why the fuck?!

Two men. Two opinions.

There are two main men in my life right now. The guy from work and the guy I was seeing before that started.

I am back seeing him again. We went to the cinema and it was like old times. Just friends that kiss and occasionally spoon. So it was mentioned that we have been seeing each other for four months. We had a laugh. Then carried on like normal. See. Nothing had changed, we still liked each other, we still both knew where is was going (nowhere) and we still enjoyed each others company.

I left and got a text about how easygoing I am. It was nice. We are nice. It is just nice.

Today. The guy I work with basically tore my personality apart. Told me that he felt like he had made a lucky escape. I felt like my heart been completely grabbed. It was awful.

Instead of thinking about comments and things that I said in the short time we were dating, and since, in a way that he would think I would make them. Because. You know. He has known me for quite a while. So you would think that if he thought something dodge about something I had said, that he would have just asked me.

He thinks I play mind games. He thinks that I wanted too much. Accused me of forcing him into a corner. Putting times on things. Being a bitch.

Okay. I will hold my hands up to the bitch. But he really read into things. Saying that I would subtly rub my neck in the shop as a type of dig at him and such. Like seriously? Why would I bother?

I put a time line on things. He asked for time until he wasn’t working with me anymore. I said no. He said that could be a week. I said no. Why? Because he believes my words were meant to force and trap. I told him. Or think I told him. Or rather, I meant. That it wasn’t fair on the first guy? Why? Because I had already cancelled one set of plans with him and it would be mean to mess him around. Guy from work seems to think I said “I won’t wait for a week to decide, otherwise I will go back to my other guys”.

So yeah. Two guys. Two very differing opinions of me. Now. Who is right?