Disconnection
Courtesy of my computer disconnecting itself from the internet, and it being inexplicably impossible to cut and paste stuff off blogger(???) you have thankfully been saved from one almighty tipsy whinge-a-thon. I'll condense it however for your pleasure:
- Gone to big "do". Looked pretty. Despaired because no one gave a shit.
- Evaluated various loved up couples who I sat with, and wondered how fawning, needyness, irrational fear of sirloin steaks, etc blah blah blah could be thought of as attractive qualities.
- Developed dog-in-the-manger envy problems over Easyjet Boy's skirt chasing. After a glass or two of wine, interrogated him in a not entirely sensible fashion. Concluded that this probably did not make me a more attractive prospect.
- Danced with TheCroydenMassive till my feet fell off. Thought about how much I'll miss him when he's left.
- Looked in the mirror (perhaps too many times) and contrary to usual, thought I looked hot. Wondered how only a man wearing yellow braces agreed with this.
- Sat in the too long taxi journey home feeling blue about pretty much everything and everyone. Mulled over the dream I had on Friday night, where I realised I was made of food and was rotting (sounds sort of funny, but actually wasn't).
You get the picture? Same old same old folks.
posted by TheMightyDing at 06:58
3 Comments:
I'd like to hear more whinge-a-thoning from you. But this is because I am similarly inclined. Humph.
What is dog-in-the-manger-ing?
When I do go out on the razz (around once every six months) I also do that thing where I catch sight of myself and are surprised how totally teh hawt I am.
The thing is, we are teh hawt. At least at some points. The reason no-one notices our hotness is because they are all wrapped up in themselves. I think we are also interesting hot (that does NOT mean fugly) and I reckon that the losers who do approach us do so because they are pissed and their "don't fuck with her" detectors are malfunctioning.
I have to admit that I do still feel like a 15 year old who's sitting alone at the side of the school disco... Sitting and picking at the bracelet that is rubbing against my wrist that I bought to "accessorise"; playing with my uncomfortable shoe whilst teens wordlessly grind up against each other under the colourful lights.
Want to know how I spent my Saturday night? I was in bed by Cinderella hour to hug Patrick and press a hot water bottle to my back to pretend that I was being hugged by someone. LOSER.
I would heartily recommend playing a show off this http://www.bbc.co.uk/radio2/shows/laycock/ on the computer, turning the lights down low and feeling fine and mellow...
Sadly, a good whinge is becoming the absolute norm after a big drinking session. Dog-in-the-manger-ing is when you make a special effort to stop someone having something they'd like, just because you can't have it yourself. I probably used the term slightly wrongly, as my actual feelings toward said lad are more like - don't really give a monkeys about you, but why don't you still worship the ground I walk on?? For which his reasons are entirely valid and sensible I would guess!! I have been having these hideous manic episodes for toooo long now(in a quite minor non-bipolar fashion) and it's really rather exhausting. Grrrrrrr. You are by the way absolutely teh hot (but I know you know that already!)
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