Today, i feel sexy. I woke up looking like i had probably seen better days. (If you’re not waking up to a stranger begging for a second date, you really haven’t had much of a night.) However, now and because i’ve had a long, lovely chatteroo, with my ‘handsome,’ who responds to the name of ‘Pete.’ I kind of feel better.
I’m in an odd stage, where i’m feeling unloved. Not by him in particular. But in general. Y’know those weeks that you have when you just need to be constantly snuggled and with someone who adores you. I’m missing that. I’ve been missing that because Pete’s been working so hard.
Last night, our lovely evening ended with him driving me home at 1.20am, parking outside my house and me crying in his fiat until 2.34am. Haha. It was that really bad weeping to. The kind where you’re not hysterical ‘look at me’ crying. But you’re staring into the distance, trying not to very, but tiny streams of ‘weep’ have trickled down your emotion-less face. It’s that awful kind of crying, because it means you’re really upset. I cried under moonlight, silently as he cuddled me. I’ve been feeling bored because my whole life has been put on ‘hold’ due to a sudden pregnancy. I can’t socilaize, work, live to my fullest or really be ME! It made me wepp. haha. I am a champion.
Infavt, i got so sick of myself and him doing those weird sympathy noises at me. Those noises that people do, when they don’t actually really care that you’re sad, they just make the noises and pat you on your back, because they have to seem concerned. I remember looking up at the moon, oddly thinking of Kat. (I know, weird?) Maybe because a moment where she held me in hysterical tears, screaming because she just didn’t want to be alone, has always stuck with me? Then i just popped open his car door, and without saying a single word slowly tottered off into the sitance and into my home, armed with polka dot heels and my Paul’s Boutique bag. (I just needed to be alone.) I told him i was crying because i was bored. But i was really crying because i didn’t want him to leave me all on my own again.
Anyway, that was the jolly dramatics of last night. This morning, i FEEL GREAT!! I’m happy, i feel sexy, i’ve all loved up, ready to be all social and chica-chica, so maybe a bit of a weep is just what the doctor ordered. I think, i’m just hormonal. I need to snap out of it!
I’ve talked about love, boobies, how i can’t help being an exhibitionist. How my friend ‘real life’ wrestled a monkey at a zoo and had to have a nose job and how i don’t mind being a bit of a bimbo really. People always hate bimbos and the ‘slaggy looking’ sort of girl. I don’t know why? They’re my favourite type of girl?
‘Liverpool boy’ has been texting me. He must be feeling lonely. Boys always text me during their loneliest hours and usually after 11pm. Haha. If a boy is texting you after 11pm…there’s booty on his mind. I keep forgetting this and then truely believe they just want a cuppa tea or something? When a text reading ‘What are you wearing,’ ventures through at 11.48pm….you suddenly realize that it’s not so innocent anymore. (Loverboy’s a bit sick of people fancying me right now…unless they’re lipstick lesbians.)
If i’m being honest, i dont’ actually have much on the cards today. Just plain old fun, laughter and strutting. I’m feeling ‘ooh laa,’ a bit naughty, mildy sexy. Yet i’m thinking about dressing like a chav today and simply to humour myself out of boredom. I’m actually feeling flirty. (Who me? NEVER!!) So i might need to shave part of my anatomy and get my *wink-wink* on with my ‘handsome.’
Not much to report at all really. Last night Pete said, ‘If you really loved me, you would just WAIT.’ Now, i don’t know a single human being in this world who likes to WAIT for anything. Not even him! I’m not sure what i’m having to wait for…but i guess he’s talking about him being some kind of major success. He always thinks i’m going to leave him for some rich bloke of the telly. I don’t know where he’s got that from?
For right now i’m happy, even if i try and fool myself into believing i’m not simply just to ‘feel.’ That’s what boredom does to you. We all do it and i’m the first to say,it’s a very BAD habit. But i’m a walking bad habit. It’s who I am.
Other than that, i can’t wait to be a mummy. I can’t wait to meet up with Loverboy and i can’t wait for the hormoanl phase to move it kindly along. Oh and i’m sick of everyone having far too much fun, whilst i’m preggo. can you all just put that on hold, until i’m ready to tend to the ‘goodtime’ Many thanks!