Ten random things about me.

1. I chew gum constantly. If I need to take it out of my mouth for any reason (haha), I find somewhere to put it (the side of my drinking glass, my steering wheel, the back of my phone...) and go back to it later.

2. I love to play Scrabble. Nowadays I play it online against a stranger usually, but I have very fond memories of playing it as a child with my mum on her big white bed while my dad was working late.

3. I drink so much coffee, that I once did a detox and had to quit three days in because my withdrawal symptoms from coffee were so bad.

4. I can't stand poor spelling, punctuation and grammar. Your/you're is one of the worst!

5. I used to be seriously terrified of dogs, now they're my favourite animal.

6. When I was thirteen I asked my mum if I could get my labret pierced (just under the centre of my bottom lip). She said no, but if I still wanted it when I was eighteen and out of school, I could get it done then. She assumed I would grow out of the idea, but I got it done the day of my last A Level, and still have it in now.

7. I am very prone to coldsores; any time I am stressed, overtired, under pressure or anxious, it is 99% certain that a coldsore will appear on my lip. I have two right now.

8. Although I know I shouldn't, I love a wee cigarette. I think a girl smoking is really sexy; it's an instant turn-on.

9. I love to sing. I have sung a few times for my older brother at acoustic gigs while he plays guitar, once even at an engagement party, but he appears to have dropped me from his act recently. I miss singing.

10. The walls of my bedroom are one giant collage of photos, postcards, magazine cuttings and other random things. The blue/green paint is barely visible.

I need your advice.

I really need advice on this, please help me.

I'm moving to England in ten days, and really have to get my stuff back from L.
We've hardly had contact (two feeble MSN conversations and a few weak texts), so I don't just want to send her a text or e-mail saying "I need my things back".
In all honesty I had expected to hear from her by now, she's been home from her holiday for a week, and she had said "please let's talk when I'm home" in her last text. But nothing.
I don't want our first contact to be me asking for us to give each others things back, it seems so final and like I'm not giving a chance to talk things over. But she refused to talk for days, weeks, when I begged her to.

I don't know how to broach this issue. The other thing is, where do we meet?
How does this normally work? I've never done this before.
She doesn't drive, and as there is some heavy stuff (like her massive case of CDs I can barely carry) I'll have to drive down to her town. I don't want to go to her house, and I don't relish the idea of picking her up anywhere. It wouldn't feel right having her in my car again.

I have no idea how I'm going to react when I see her again, or how she's going to be around me either.

Please give me your advice - how do I bring this up without being callous, and where should we meet?
I'm really nervous about it.

Men.

I was out tonight with my younger sister and her friend, as it was my sister's last Saturday night here before she moves to uni.

Three different guys came on to me. Let me start by saying - this never happens, and more importantly, I do not like it.

The first guy was on the dance floor before anyone else was even near it, the club was pretty empty, most people were just hanging around at the bars. He was dancing alone, really sexy moves and pretty much just loving on himself. Next thing, he danced over to where we were, moves my sister and her friend out of the way (and let's be honest, they were both just as shocked as I was that he didn't go for either of them), and started 'dancing' 'with' me ('dancing' because he was just trying to be really sexual, gyrating, bumping, grinding, his body right on mine, and 'with' because he was more dancing 'at' me, I wasn't reciprocating). Immediately, everyone else in the club was watching, pointing, probably laughing. I tried to move away from him, I was exceedingly uncomfortable, but he wouldn't take the hint, and I was getting more and more humiliated by the second. Words cannot describe how much this kind of attention embarrasses me. Eventually, after thrusting his ass in my crotch several times (it hurt, he was a big guy, and must have had a belt buckle or something on) he walked away, leaving me feeling really... dirty, and violated. I'm not the type of person to be violent or rude to anyone else, so I just waited it out until he was done, I didn't want to give a rise or a reaction, but I was totally humiliated.

The second guy grabbed me about an hour later, I was walking past his table and he reached out and took my hand. I automatically pulled away, but then realised I knew him (sort of). He was kissing my cheek and I pulled away, and then explained that we used to hang around from time to time when I was about fifteen years old. He kept hugging me, kissing my cheek and bringing his face right up to mine. After what felt like ages, he could tell I wasn't interested, and left me so he could go and hit on my sister.

The third guy was the friend of boy number two.  He introduced himself by kissing me right on the lips. I jerked away, while he continued to try and kiss me all over my face. My stomach was actually churning, and I just turned my back on him and walked away. I'm told he gave me the fingers at this point. Nice. My sister jumped in and shouted to him (and everyone else) "She's not interested, she's GAY!"  He didn't believe her (oh come on, I have short hair, and while every other girl in the club is wearing a short dress, I'm wearing jeans, a button-up shirt and a waistcoat!), so he came over to ask me. I repeated what my sister had told him, and he shook my hand!
"It was worth a try, eh?" he said. Cheeky bastard.

The club was heaving, I literally could not move an inch. The people in it were complete posers and dicks. I've never been in a place that bad before. The way everyone was getting on, it felt like they were all in on something big, and I was the joke.

For all those hundreds of drunk people, I could not see a single other gay girl. Until we were walking out, when I spotted a really hot bar maid.

I am so glad to be at home, in bed, away from all those sleazy men. What makes them think it is okay to be so lecherous and downright creepy towards girls? It's horrible, I feel so disgusting right now.
For those girls who live for that kind of attention in clubs, please learn to respect yourself, have some dignity. It makes me so sad that girls feel the need to dress in barely anything, flaunt their bodies shamelessly on the dancefloor with a vodka in each hand, just to get some kind of attention.
There's got to be more than this.

[Edit: I am not telling this story to seem big-headed in any way, trust me, this was a very unusual night for me, and one I hope is never repeated.]

[Another edit: a friend just asked me "Did it not feel awesome that someone was giving you attention, even if it was the wrong sex?!". Dear God, some people just do not get it.]

A change.

I haven't seen L since we broke up.
Since before it, actually.
Since Wednesday, August 5th.

In the first couple of weeks after she split with me, my resolve was incredibly high. I was determined to be positive and look to the future, and not let myself flounder like I had done so many times previously.

Even when she texted while on holiday to say she'd made a huge mistake and basically implied she wanted to get back together, I was determined not to back down. I genuinely didn't want to.

This week has been different.

I've been thinking about her so much.
Regardless of everything, of every reason I've listed in my head as to why we were never a good match, of all the ways she didn't treat me well, of all the times I felt inadequate... I miss her.

I haven't heard from her since she got back on Tuesday, maybe she discovered I'd removed her from my Facebook and Twitter (not to be malicious or bitchy, purely because I couldn't put myself through seeing her updates all the time).

On Monday night I was in my old hometown (where L lives) for my best friend's birthday, and I met two of L's friends on separate occasions. It was really good to see them both, but I've come to the conclusion that this is the reason I am feeling so unsteady now.

My head really hurts right now, and I am just so glad it is the weekend, I don't think I could actually get out of bed early tomorrow (well, today actually, just glanced at the clock).

I just don't know what to do. This post is a complete mess. I feel like I'm letting myself down by even considering any of this.

Two weeks until I leave for uni.

I've been thinking about her a lot lately.
L, that is.

Do you remember?

Dear Best Friend,
Remember that awesome holiday we had in January? The possible-once-in-a-lifetime one for us?
I wish I could go back there right now. As my dad yells at me, as I wonder if I will finally get any sleep tonight, as I cry again, as I wonder how my life got to be like this. I wish I could go back there right now.


Do you remember rolling across the hotel bed while I counted how many rolls it took you to get from your side to mine, it was that big?

Do you remember laughing at me as I got excited when I found Snapple in WalMart? We can't get it at home, and you mocked me so many times, copying how I'd said it excitedly that first time.

Do you remember us getting extremely drunk at a random frat party, me singing Jimmy Eat World with some guy playing guitar, you throwing up in the bathroom, us smoking outside with no coats on in sub-zero temperatures?

Do you remember walking to Target in the snow up that steep hill? Us slipping and our friend taking a picture right before we went down? And how the last 't' in the sign was missing, so we referred to the store as 'Targe' from then on?

Do you remember the amount of people that asked us if we were British? And when, upon finding out where we're really from, claimed to be Irish? And our disappointment when this failed to get us any free Soy Lattes?

Do you remember being so cold we were crying, but it being worth it to get those awesome burgers?

Do you remember us running the hotel corridors at 3am, flipping everyone's Do Not Disturb signs around? And jumping from floor to floor to all the vending machines, to get enough food to last us another sleepless night?

Do you remember finding the rooftop gym on our last night? Our late-night 'workout'?

Do you remember how brilliant it was to live by our own schedule? To not have to worry about work, rent, keeping our families happy, or meeting deadlines? When the only decisions we had to make were where we should go for dinner?

Yeah, I remember too.

I remember the free mocha we scored because the waiter made a mistake. I remember the giant pack of Oreos we ate while watching Obama's inauguration in bed. I remember the snow being so deep we could barely walk. I remember the city at night being the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. I remember never wanting to go home.

Love, N.

Uh oh.

Last night I received a text from L. One I wasn't expecting, and really didn't want, if I'm honest.

Basically, she is on holiday and is not having a good time, as she realised she made a 'huge mistake'.
It's 'killing' her.
She desperately wants us to talk when she gets home.
It ended with 'I love you'.


I am not going back there. I'd never fully trust her again after what she did to me, how she made me feel. She broke up with me over text for God's sake.

Sure, I'll meet up with her, we never talked it over in person, and I need my stuff back before I go to university in a few weeks.
But we are not getting back together.