A rebound guy in the hand is worth two in the bush. (I mean the metaphorical bush, because obviously the physical bush is where you want the rebound guys.)

The weekend was pretty good.

Went to the cinema and brought wine. Laughed ridiculously through what was supposed to be a sad movie. The Imposter.

Jesse and I with our wine, stifling giggles at the Texan family drawling

“When Ah heard they found him (missing 12 year old son) ah felt a lotta e-motions. Happiness…. Excitement… Beee wilderment. Nervousness…”

We felt really bad about laughing but then halway through the movie we realise that the brown haired, brown eyes 23 year old FRENCH MAN pretending- BARELY pretending- to be a missing now 15 year old blonde haired blue eyes American boy… had fooled the mother, sister, his childhood friends, neighbours, the FBI, child services…

Everyone laughed.

The whole cinema laughed like the clucking fools at an Adam Sandler movie.

We relaxed and laughed as much as we liked for the rest of the film. It was so ridiculous really.

After that we hit a bar and met some of Jesse’s friends. Jesse felt sick so she went home. I had already begun the process of getting drunk and having a good night so I stayed. Around the end of the night one of the girls tells me she and I will find hot guys.

We look around. I tell her “only tall ones for me”. There are like, five tall ones. She points at one. He’s not bad.

Nah. Glasses. Not doing it for me.

I dismiss him and then everyone else. Nah. Nah. Eww.

I give up.

Dance some more.

And then glasses tall guy approaches us and begins asking me something, I think about what i thought of the music. I fix him with a look of pure hatred. What a stupid question. Why must I tolerate this kind of conversation? Just tell me I look better than any woman you have ever encountered and that I have some special and unique properties, and I will be delighted to smile and giggle for you. But ask me about the music? Like you saw me from across the room and thought, ooh! I really must have her opinion about something.

So I said something frosty to him, like asked him if he was conducting a survey or something, and for some reason he was intrigued and began telling me I’m very interesting and witty.

I told him yes, I know… and THAT should have been his opener, not the music line.

He looked a little frightened. Like maybe I was too interesting and witty for him to handle.

So I felt bad about being a dick to some random guy merely because he was wearing glasses which actually isn’t even something that would put me off, they just made him look hipstery. He was actually probably quite good looking, or maybe he was just tall. I don’t remember, and I really couldn’t tell at the time.

So I offered to allow him to join me for a smoke outside. He didn’t smoke but would be delighted to join me. OH ok.

We went outside and I ranted about things. Then we went inside and I couldn’t find my friends. (I referred to them as my friends but I don’t know them very well or have their numbers)

The club was apparently over so we went outside. Where are my friends? Come back with us, we are having a party. I snorted derision. Yeah… I want to find my friends. I can’t find my friends and what’s more they aren’t MY friends so I can’t call them and they probably weren’t going to go looking or waiting for me. I wandered around thinking about just going home or going to this party but really I didn’t want to go to a party brought by some guy I couldn’t decide if he was attractive or not and go as the girl he brought so I couldn’t even ditch him for one of his friends.

Eventually my cheapness won out.

He said come on, it’s on Something street. Are you getting a cab, I asked.


Well, something street is on the way to my place. That would save me some taxi fare… I leapt into a cab and talked about myself for a few more minutes before realising it was just me and glasses tall guy in the back. What about your friends? Oh they will arrive in a bit. Right…


Well he can’t be about to rape me, he’s too shy, and too attractive. He MIGHT murder me… but no. I doubt it. Come on now I wasn’t that much of a dick to him.

We went inside his house. Kind of shitty for a 29 year old. He lives with people. That’s kind of shitty for a 29 year old too.

We drank rum and coke. I don’t drink rum and coke but fuck it. We talked about music, it was a wonderful opportunity for me to share my many interesting and clever opinions that I had just come up with that moment. Drammatic opinions I didn’t think much about. He was intrigued. Eventually one friend arrived back, joined the debate for a while then fell asleep. We went into the kitchen and I had a boring, unsatisfying cigarette out the back. He came with me but I needed the smoker’s solidarity. It’s not the same when one person is smoking and one is watching them and thinking why are they doing that, what a pointless, expensive and desperate habit. I bet her breath stinks too.

Eventually in the kitchen he started to yawn. I was wondering, is he ever going to make a move or is he actually just interested in the conversation?

He told me he was tired. Well, that’s odd. That is either a cue for me to leave or say “let’s go to bed together now”. He hadn’t even tried to stroke my leg or kiss me or anything so it obviously wasn’t the latter. I vaguely shifted in my seat and looked out the window. I might… eh… yeah… eh…

Then he said “This is awkward, because I’ve been wanting to kiss you for two hours.”

I’m like, what the fuck? What am I supposed to say? Oh cringe. I don’t like being asked for kisses. So I just said well you better make your move as a surprise because if you do it now it’s going to be really awkward. So then I thought fuck it the big pussy, and I leaned over and grabbed his face and we kissed and it was terrible but I thought, well… fuck it. I couldn’t be bothered leaving now, it’s cold. Anyway maybe the sex will be good? (You may recall me making this very same and stupid judgement call before, in Italy…) He is older… but very shy… Hmm.

We went upstairs and he had a good comfy bed but it made weird noises. We had sex and I found that yes, he was good in bed. He was pretty damn good. Everything was very, very enjoyable. He had the knowledge that I still haven’t got used to- the knowledge of what and where a clitoris is. This knowledge seems to have been acquired by men sometime while I was married because it just appeared everywhere* when I became single. Brilliant.

*(Except for one guy, who massaged my labia for a few minutes, mystifying me completely, until he huskily asked “IS THIS YOUR CLIT, YEAH?)

We fell asleep and that was fine but I woke up and the house smelt like damp and it wasn’t my bed and I haven’t slept in  another man’s bed in so long, apart from Antoine’s but we were sort of together so it wasn’t like this… I haven’t slept in a strange man’s bed in years actually. It was awful. I wanted to put on my clothes and run away.

God this is awful. I looked around and beside me was this man, this man and I still couldn’t tell if he was attractive or not. I think I rely so much on confidence to attract me to a man, that when he doesn’t have it, his natural looks just don’t cut it. I think he was an attractive guy… just… I need the confidence, man.

I lay there and thought of my exit. Leaving while he slept was what I WANTED to do, but I knew it would be really rude. He didn’t have my number and I didn’t have his. He’d wake up and think I ran away because I regretted it… really I just wanted my own bed to be hung over in, and to get away from the smell of damp and the cold. I lay there for ages and then decided I couldn’t leave like that. So I did the only other thing that would make me happier with my lot.

I reached over like a sleeping person might reach, slowly and clumsily, and allowed my hand to fall on his penis. He snuggled into my hand and suddenly he was hard, and he rolled over and took me in his arms with a decisiveness that I have to say, really worked for me. We fucked again and this time was REALLY GOOD.

We had morning breath so we did the morning breath kissing, the closed mouth mwah-ing interspersed with pretending to be really, really into open mouth kissing shoulders and arms where there’s no sense of smell.

It was really good. Afterwards he said wow that was intense. Then he made me orgasm with his hand… or, he nearly did but I got sort of stage fright, but it was really good anyway, so I rewarded him with a very good fake orgasm. It was a thing of beauty, but I made it ugly enough to be convincing. Then we talked. Then he made all kinds of suggestions of things he’d like to do with the day. I could tell this was an invitation to stick around but I still… despite the great sex… wanted to RUN AWAY.

I stayed for a few hours anyway, just talking shit, and we got dressed and had coffee and eventually I said I was leaving and he kissed me again and took my number and said he’d call me.

I went home and wanted a nap and a shower and food but Jesse invited me for drinks, half priced drinks all Sunday…

And so I just had a shower and put on makeup and went out again.

We drank a shitload of beer and laughed at everything.

then I get a text from my shy guy from the night before, and also… that morning.

He said he hoped I had a better hangover day than he did, he’s finally in bed now… bliss!

So me being drunk and an idiot, and also not really caring about this guy’s feelings as much as I care about my own amusement… I write back


To which HE responds

“Nope. Todd”

Which is like, OH YEAH that was his name. So instead of just letting my joke go and being all “ha ha Todd I know I’m just buzzin off ya, I’m in the pub now so I guess I won’t be getting rid of the hangover just yet, well sleep well talk soon goodnight”

No.. instead I reply “Oh sorry, I thought it was my grandma Bliss.”

So then he doesn’t reply because I am a big weirdo and so I write sorry, I was just drunk and amusing myelf by being obnoxious.. had a good day, made some potato gratin and hit the pub.

Well I haven’t heard back from him since. I don’t care about ruining the potential for more sex there, because really he was too shy for me. And too into talking… and I’m moving away too soon for that kind of arrangement. But I do feel bad for like, taking the piss out of this guy who obviously isn’t so cocky or confident. I feel inclined to write again to apologize for my drunken idiocy but it also feels like, is it actually even that bad, what I wrote, or his he just a humourless tool?

I don’t know but I don’t like to leave something frosty, especially not when he has seen my O face (even if it was synthesized)

He has also seen my vagina. That makes me want him to think I’m nice.

In other news, my previous rebound guy… ahhh this is why I should have updated more frequently. Too much backstory now.

Well, we had a night of very dirty messaging. Stayed up til 4am writing lewd things. He said we would have to get some porn and try stuff out… I said maybe. He said he loved giving head ESPECIALLY to me. I said I would like that very much. Obviously I said dirty things too but there’s no need to like, recount them here. This is a classy establishment. So eventually I cut the convo off because I had work in the morning and I NEED SOME SLEEP.

But first I had asked, any plans for the weekend?

Oh now I remember why I didn’t write this sooner, because the next night was the night my friend had the seizure-overdose thing. Perspective I guess…

So over the weekend I was obviously distracted, but he didn’t know that, and he never got in touch. The next day (before going out and my friend having the seizure) I had written to him something casual like ahhh can’t wait for the weekend, and he said something back and I replied and then he said ok talk later going to the off licence (this is where we buy alcohol in Ireland.)

That was the last time he wrote to me.

So that’s two weeks ago, it’s a bit weird. I wrote to him yesterday because I am a glutton for punishment and can’t stop my damn idle hands from sending the devil’s messages. We had a conversation that consisted of such gems as





(those are the entire messages)

and then I added, “how’s it hanging?” but he didn’t answer that one.

I am a little baffled. I’m not going to write to him again now because he obviously isn’t into me any more, he’s always online on facebook and never initiates the conversation and he left me hanging the last two times so that is IT.

But I really wanted him to give me head again before I go away! I just want ONE orgasm from oral sex. JUST ONE. I have never had one. I feel like maybe if I explained this to him… no. Not a good idea.

Maybe he started seeing someone, someone who was actually nice to him.

But like……. the dirty messages were GOOD. I was so sure he’d ask me… well, not out. In. Ask me over, or something.

Anyway I have other things to write about that aren’t sexual but I am too tired now so I’ll write those tomorrow.


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