It’s funny how it’s more difficult to write about relationships when you’re in a relationship, you almost feel like you have no right to poke fun at relationships and romance* when you yourself is in situation where you’re committed to one person (my relationship isn’t particularly romantic, and thus I believe I am still more than entitled to poke fun at romance), not to mention you don’t particularly want to make the person you are in that relationship with feel any concern due to your flippancy in relation to relationships. Relationships or not however, I think even Cupid would ridicule the commercialism and competitiveness that’s brought on by the yearly commercial hell that is Valentine’s Day.
I realised I skipped a day on the V-day countdown, but to be perfectly honest, after my team beat City, I really couldn’t even be bothered to regain my distain for the Hallmark holiday (The city is yoooours, the city is yoooours, 20000 empty seats, are you fuckin’ sureee? Right, that’s out of my system now.)
Now V-day is nothing without Valentine’s Day movies, right? And in an attempt to be slightly more cheerful about the big day, I’m going to suggest a couple of films that might be suitable.
1. Valentine. I mean, it’s all in the name, really? So, it may be about a killer and nobody knows who he is (well it’s kind of obvious if you have half a brain), but it has eye candy a plenty in it. Most notably David Boreanaz (yummy) and Denise Richards (in a swimsuit as well). It’s also got a not so famous Katherine Heigl (before she was SUPER famous) and some dude who used to be in the latter seasons of Beverly Hills 90210, I think he may have played a lawyer, or an accountant and he dated one of or both the blondes in it (you know the ones I mean, Tori “Only got the part because my dad’s a bit soft” Spelling and the other one who used to date Brandon in the show). It also has THE best poem ever written, which I quote quite often in day to day conversations, “Roses are red, Violets are blue… They’ll need dental records to identify you.” 10 out of 10 for brilliantly lousy script, yet refreshing horror reminiscent of the days where horror films still tried to adhere to some sort of a story.
2. My Bloody Valentine. Now, this isn’t a great film, not by any means. Even as a horror it’s predictable and unoriginal. However, it has Jensen Ackles in it, and if I could have one night with that gorgeous man, I’d give up sex forever.
3. Natural Born Killers. Hey, if there’s ever a story that shows how messed up love can get, this is the one. Although I suppose the sociopathic tendencies played a small part.
4. Misery. Hey, if ever there was a bunny boiler… and these two weren’t even in a relationship, she was just crazy and obsessed with a writer. Now imagine if they’d actually been in a relationship. Then imagine how crazy she’d have been. Then stop being miserable you’re single.
5. Basic Instinct and/or Fatal Attraction. Both are two of my favourite films ever. These films have lessons to be learned aplenty; don’t sleep with more than one person in a film, don’t cheat on your wife with a psychopath, don’t fall in love with a woman who has a thing about ice picks and whatever you do, do NOT trust Michael Douglas’ taste in women. Sure Catherine Zeta Jones is stunningly beautiful, but besides from the fact that she’s Welsh, a good actress and mediocre singer… what do we really know about her?
Enjoy, I know I will
P.S. If you spend V-Day watching Twilight, you should have your eyes gauged out with a spoon. Just saying.
Now, I’d have thought it’s quite obvious that I’m not the kind of person who would celebrate Valentine’s Day. So in honour of all the like minded people out there, which probably will be made up of mainly single people, broken hearted people and 40 year old virgins, I’m going to do a countdown to the big day itself.
In commiserations of the day itself being only five sleeps away, let’s get this party started.
Five gifts to be suspicious off
1. Your girlfriend/wife gets you tickets to go see your favourite football club despite ALWAYS complaining about how you never spend time with her and instead you’re glued to Sky Sports. The milkman’s coming around mate, and it ain’t for a brew.
2. Flowers from Tesco’s garage. Yes, he did get it on the way home from work after he forgot that it’s the one day a year where if he comes home with something good, he won’t have to beg for sex.
3. You notice a big purchase on the credit card from a jewellery store. You get flowers and chocolates. And he doesn’t ask for sex. You do the maths.
4. Sexy lingerie when you hate getting into bed with anything but one of his old t-shirts on. Obviously it looked good on his bit on the side, and they were on BOGOF!
5. A Chlamydia testing kit. What a way to say I love you.
Yep, you got it, I’m a commitment phobe. Big time. I can’t really commit to anything past which football team I support, which politician I back or what kind of music I love (and even on the latter I do sometimes run scared of my schizophrenic behaviour).
I have always had issues committing in a relationship. I don’t like being tied down, even as a teenager when most of my friends had a steady girl- or boyfriend, I didn’t. I had special friends, but not the go on a date or cuddle up with kind. More the, I’ll sleep with you when I feel like it kinda thing. Whenever it went past that, and those dreaded words came out. I went running.
I love you. Three innocent words right? Nah-ah. Not if you say them to me. Firstly, you’ve gotta be pretty bloody crazy to love someone who from the beginning makes it clear that they’re only after one thing. When I say not going on dates, I honestly mean not going on dates. I have never in my life been on a date. Why? Because the thought of going somewhere with one person when the underlying issue is to experience whether you’re suited to be in a relationship with each other, not to mention the public affection, absolutely terrifies me. I don’t mean I haven’t gone somewhere with just the one person that I’ve happened to be in a physical relationship with, but they have never been dates, just a matter of convenience when we’ve both wanted to watch a football match at the same pub, or have had an interest in seeing a new film or going to a concert. However there was no holding of hands, or gazing into each other’s eyes or any of that soppy shit.
When someone’s told me they love me, usually one of two things happen. I either freeze up and say nothing or I start laughing. Or if someone has told me on the phone, which did happen once, I freaked out and hung up. Then I break it off, either by actually being honest end ending things because I don’t want to have a physical relationship with someone that has feelings for me that I can’t reciprocate, it’s not fair on them. Or I sabotage things because I actually have feelings and that terrifies me even more than commitment itself.
What worries me the most though is the amount of people that seem to have developed feelings for me in my somewhat short life. Do people really begin to love someone simply because they make you laugh and give good head? I’m bitchy, I’m incredibly difficult to spend time with if things go beyond friendship, and at times even before that. I’m argumentative, competitive, can be very selfish, think I’m better than most people, the list goes on. Sure I have good qualities, I have shit loads of them, but I do not understand why you would develop feelings for someone who so blatantly does not have the ability to commit to having dinner never mind being in a *gulp* sexually exclusive relationship.
No, it’s not because I have underlying psychological issues, nor is it because I had a bad childhood or because my first love broke my heart and now I don’t trust men/women (all things I have been accused of, by one person it was all of those and more), I just really don’t think it’s in my nature to commit to one person. So I’m sorry, to all the men and women out there who may think they’d like to date me, you’re out of luck. Of course, if you’ve read this and still want to date me (No I do not need someone to just show me what love is, I know what it is)… I am really not the one with psychological issues.
See I know for a fact that the items I post about sex get so many more hits than my other blog entries do (yes I AM sad enough to look at my stats, but purely from an investigative point of view of course) so I figured if I titled an entry “sex” it’s bound to draw you in. Don’t worry, I am actually going to talk about sex, I’m not just doing it to get more hits to my blog.
So I was thinking, whilst having a cigarette and drinking my wine way too quickly (usually not a big fan of wine, but these lovely spring evenings we’re having made me fancy it), whether sex is better with someone you love than when it’s with someone you’re not in love with. Now I realise that maybe it doesn’t sound like a very interesting thing to be thinking about, but when something pops into my head, no matter what it is, it won’t leave said head until I’ve discussed the issue with myself, so I figured I may as well do it on here.
I’ve had endless amounts of people tell me how much better sex is when two people are in love, some people have been previous sexual partners, some are just friends. Now whilst talking of previous partners, one was in love with me whilst I wasn’t in love with him and he said that it was better for him because he loved me. We did have great sex, some of the best nights ever was spent with him (and sometimes not just him), but although I’m pretty good in bed, I doubt it that it was better for him just because he had some feelings that I didn’t.
I’d say that having sex with someone you love may be a lot better than some nights spent with random one night stands, usually sex is better with someone you have known for a lengthy period of time because you both know what the other wants and enjoys. You know you click, you know what’s what and there’ll be no nasty surprises (like his cock’s the size of a thumb, major downside if that happens eh), but I don’t think love comes into the equation. Maybe if you love someone you try harder to satisfy them, whilst if you don’t you’re not really fussed if you don’t make him/her scream from pleasure?
I just don’t see how love can make you better sexual partners. Maybe I don’t particularly understand love, most people that know me know how cynical I am about falling in love, “the one”, marriage (eep) and all that stuff, but I do generally have a good understanding of people and how they work. I think that perhaps people say sex is better with someone they love, because that’s how it’s supposed to be. Everything is better when you love someone isn’t it? The world’s ending tomorrow you say? Well that’s OK, because I get to die with the missus screaming in my ear. Yeah. Maybe not. If you love someone, and they love you, I imagine it makes you feel more confident, more free, more safe… more able to enjoy things. Or maybe it’s simply because when you’re in love, you get married, have kids and only have sex twice a year which makes even a shit shag seem like the best night ever.
I don’t think sex has anything to do with love. I think emotions control everything in our lives to a degree, but I don’t think it’s going to make you climax better or ensure you have multiple orgasms rather than a dull old short one. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, it’s all about chemistry, not whether you can see yourself walking down the aisle in a fluffy white dress. Anyway, chances are if you’re thinking about stuff like that whilst having sex you’re only thinking it’s amazing because you’re dreaming about silverware and cappuccino machines.
Then never to have loved at all. Bull. Shit. What kind of an idiot came up with that phrase? (Alfred Tennyson, but that’s besides the point) It’s like saying I don’t mind that I came home to find my fiancé shagging his secretary, because I just appreciate all the times he fucked me.
So I just finished watching 27 Dresses, if you haven’t watched it, it’s a RomCom starring Katherine Heigl and James Marsden (Cyclops in X-Men, Yum-myyy) and the plot is basically following this woman who is always the bridesmaid, never the bride. Original huh, after all there haven’t quite been enough RomComs about weddings. I admit I did find it quite funny, but it did remind me about what I hate the most about spring.
Wedding invitations. Every spring, it seems that half the world is getting ready to wed (to those of you who get married in winter, good for you). When you’re finally tired of winter, and have recovered from the excitement of having real snow (you know, the kind our parents haven’t seen since they were children) and you start to enjoy the sun and lovely smells of spring (unless you live in central London), some madly in love, but eventually doomed, couple has to go on and ruin your enjoyment.
Yes. I am indeed a love Grinch. I mean what’s the point? People rushing into marriage because they’re so desperate to get a paper agreement that would ensure breaking up would be a hell of a lot harder than if you’re just dating? I’m very happy for everyone out there who are so in love and fluffy, cute and happy, but do you think maybe you could stop rubbing our faces in it? At least wait till it’s winter again, and it’s too dark for us to have to look at your disgusting public tokens of affection.
P.S. No, I’m not jealous.
P.S.S. Not at all. (Really).
Now I love football. I’m a born red, and I will die a red. If you don’t have any interest in football, I reckon you should probably stop reading now because the next paragraphs will mean absolutely fuck all to you.
Watching your team win I imagine is like falling in love. Watching your team loose is like falling in love then coming home early to find your man, or woman, shagging the ugly tramp next door. Guess what, just because you’ve seen them, that doesn’t mean they will stop, they’ll keep going to rub your nose in it. Then they will put a recording of it on the internet, and spam your e-mail and phone with pictures till you get to the point where you feel like hanging yourself, because your heart is that shattered into a million little fucking pieces. Then, just as you think it’s all going to be ok again, they’ll tell you they also fucked your sister/brother, AND they’re having a baby together. They will then take you to a dark alley, beat you senseless before burying you alive.
That’s pretty much how I feel right now. All of those emotions is what I went through tonight when I watched my team go three nil up, then waste it away. Slowly. Painfully. Sickeningly. Heartbreakingly. If you have ever had your heart broken, then imagine it happening twice in five days. Imagine two lots of ninety minutes ruining your entire year. Then imagine having to see the images of your other half crushing your sprit and soul for days to come.
As if that wasn’t enough, there is one more thing that has managed to really, really piss me off tonight. Every time I go to Old Trafford, I see other women like me who go there because we love our team, we sing as loudly as the men, and we cry and scream both from happiness and misery. Then I see the stupid little girls in their tiny little skirts and their high heels who doesn’t even know the fucking offside rule, who during the match tell the rest of us to sit down, spend the whole fucking ninety minutes talking about fucking shoes and how bored they are and don’t give a shit once it’s over. Thank you for making it even harder to be a female football fan you silly little bints. Thank you for taking up seats that real fans could have used just because going to football might make your boyfriend so happy he won’t ask for a blowjob later so you don’t have to mess up your precious lip gloss. Most of all, thank you for staying the hell away from me after the match, because if you hadn’t, right now you’d be in hospital with a stiletto stabbed into your airhead brain and I would be locked up for GBH.
That is all.
Now that title sounds a little bit confusing, I admit, but still I do think it’s a really good question. As I’ve gotten older, although not necessarily wiser, I’ve grown closer to the conclusion that men are indeed everything that they claim women are. I’ve frequently heard men say that us women are indecisive, we say the opposite of what we mean, we complain, we have emotional problems bla bla bla.
Now I would like to bring to everyone’s attention, that perhaps the reason men see this in us is that they’re actually the ones with the issues? For instance, a man comes over, and I ask him which beer he would like out of three or four choices. If it takes you more than thirty seconds to decide on a beer, then chances are an actually important decision may take you oh I don’t know… say two years.
Women say the opposite of what we mean? Well I try to say what I mean all the time, although it appears men are so set on this specific sentiment that they will forever take no as a yes. Now although I admit that some stereotypes may be correct, there are some women who will say “Everything’s fine” when they actually mean “If you don’t fucking figure out what you’ve done wrong in the next ten minutes you will not get ANY sex for at least a month” there are plenty of men out there who never say what they mean either. Like a lot of men say “I’ll call you” when they don’t, obviously this rarely, next to never happened to me, but I do know people it has happened to a few times! They also pretend they don’t like you, so that you will get more keen. Now what is up with that? I know men don’t tend to think with the right head, but even in male terms there must be alarm bells going off that that may not be the best approach. Trust me if the girl you’re after reacts well to being ignored and treated like she’s invisible… chances are you may end up in one messed up relationship.
Now for my favourite. Emotional problems. I admit I’m not a very emotional person, something that has been pointed out to me on several occasions, and I also admit that this may be just as big a disadvantage as being overly emotional. Men of course never have any emotions, they don’t cry, they don’t show their sincere love in public, grabbing your girlfriend’s ass and sticking your tongue down her throat to impress your mates doesn’t count as being sincerely loving by the way, and they never get upset. Except for when it comes to sports of course. Sure. That’s why every man I’ve ever known gets more grumpy than a woman who’s PMSing whenever something doesn’t go their way or a woman doesn’t act in a way such as he wishes her too.
Men can be just as insecure, emotional, contradictory, indecisive and lovesick as girls out there. They just don’t like to admit it because it makes them feel like less of a man. Shame really, as I’ve seen so many men lose out on good women just because of that fear, hope you’re not making the same mistake!
P.S. Personally I’m not that keen on overly emotional men, but just thought I’d help those of you trying to pull girls who do like them.