No Use For A Title

I wish my head would stop feeling like a clogged up sink. There's all these thoughts that could become stories if I'd only managed to get the movie in my head transformed into words that are more than a quick outline. It's so annoying, but I just can't find a way to make the words flow easily again.

Not sure if it's got anything to do with what my life is doing at the moment, I'm kinda busy at work and occasionally stressed at home, mainly due to the fact that my flatmate's boyfriend lover fuckbuddy keeps hanging out at ours because he lives in a fucking hostel and of course our flat's nicer and she's crazy/in love enough with him that she's happy about it. I know it's bad and I shouldn't even think it, but I really wish they'd stop seeing each other. I can't even explain why I don't like him, I see him and the hairs on the back of my neck stand up and I just want to leave the room. Which is what I did last weekend when they joined me in the living room. They didn't get the hint. I've now taken to blatantly tell my flatmate that she should keep him the fuck away from me, but our flat is small and just his presence is pissing me off. They're loud and even though I try to blank it out as much as possible, but I can still hear him spouting bullshit and her giggling because she believes him. Argh.

A propos spouting bullshit, the guy that's been chasing me for months now (because until a few weeks ago he was married and I've got principles and I wasn't that insanely interested in the first place) came over last weekend after a spontaneous texting session and me being horny enough to consider it. I'd like to say the build-up lived up to reality, but unfortunately it really didn't. He's pretty 'n all, but he's so full of himself it's almost funny (if it wasn't so sad) and I'm convinced he actually thinks I believed a word he was saying. Needless to say, the sex was rather unimpressive but it was sex and I needed to get laid, so there's that. He gets a point for persistence but unfortunately zero points for personality or performance. Won't be calling him again, then.

On a more cheerful note and decidedly better on the sexytimes scales was a text message exchange with a lovely and very sexy friend of mine. Not only was it an awesome distraction at work today, it was also very inspirational in terms of writing and so very very HOT (at one point I had to escape to the toilet because ohmyfuckinggod I needed to catch my breath). I need more texts and friends like that, my life would be perfect.

While I haven't been writing an awful lot, I have been trailing the interwebs for stuff to read. It's kinda comforting that there's a lot of really not that great fic around, which makes me feel better about being a perfectionist and the feedback I get, but it's also annoying because I need nice stories to keep me distracted. It's so weird that I have been reading constantly for months now, but haven't bought a book for just as long. I'm tempted to get some literature on my kindle soon, but I fear I'll be endlessly disappointed that there's not sex in the story.

Other noteworthy things that happened:

• A Burning Man planning session, it's looking good but it's still so far away that all kinds of shit can happen, so I'm trying to not get too excited *is excited*
• I've met a friend's new bf and he's nice and I can see that he's really good for her. I wish I could find someone that I can fall in love with that also falls in love with me, I don't know how other people do it.
• I seem to have agreed to accompany a friend to a Fields Of The Nephilim gig in a fit of madness. Bring on the goth!
• My excitement that I'm going to see The Used at least twice (most likely 3 times) in November knows no boundaries *is extremely excited, even more than for Burning Man because it's next month and not next year*

So Here I Am, It's In My Hands

instagram/virtualjepha

Looking back at some of my blog posts from last year or so, I can't believe I'd ever say this, but I'm actually having a really good time at the moment. There's still a lot of things that suck, like not getting a bonus at work and the prospects of ever getting promoted pretty minuscule, and our landlord having delusions of grandeur and wanting more rent, or the fact the summer seems to not be happening this year on this fucking island.

But I can deal with that. If I really wanted to, I could actually change most of the stuff that's slightly annoying at the moment (except for the weather, that unfortunately is completely out of my control). I could change jobs (I'm looking at options, but I don't actually want to leave), I could look for a new place to live (although likelihood of another mental landlord is quite high, so we might just stick with the known evil), it's in my hands if I really want it.

And it seems to be that the whole love business is somewhat under control as well. As expected it all started happening when I stopped trying to make it happen and just went with it, and I'm still pretty much going with it because I'm not entirely sure what I want but I'm rather sure that if I start pushing it'll all turn against me in a second. And it's not going too bad right now.

Monday to Thursday were uneventful, need to work on my weekday excitement a bit more. Friday was the day of my annual work party, or The Fest, which I mainly attended because the pretty colleague's band (the colleague that I'm still fantasizing about shagging me in a storage closet at work) was opening on the main stage and because we get free food. The band turned out to be kinda crap, I don't particularly believe in bands with keyboarders and the singer had no stage presence whatsoever, and the food was just as naff as expected and then it started to rain and I went home. Saturday started with a nice long lie in, then a lot of faffing about and then the pretty boy came over and we watched movies and had sex. Not amazing amounts of sex because I was minutes away from starting my period and that's about the only time in the month when I'm not insanely horny, but there were loads of cuddles and skin and it was all good. He stayed over and there was more cuddling in the morning (because, um, sex at that point would have been too messy). I thought that I'd probably spent the day being lazy but then got a text from a friend (that I might've shagged earlier this year) wanting to go for lunch and hang out and who am I to say no. So we met up and spent a lovely day eating pizza and walking around the Wimbledon Common and drinking wine and chatting.

I really like when weekends go like that.

The pretty boy is going away to Africa for 3 weeks to teach and is busy next weekend, which means I most likely won't see him for a good while (woe!), so I'll have to distract myself otherwise. Sure I'll find a way.

I'm still writing and reading slash, struggling a bit with the writing because the stories I'm working on are being bitchy and big and at least one involves kink and I don't want to mess it up. I've stumbled upon a collection of really good kinky slash a day or so ago, I'm still in awe how good the writer puts it into words and how much it helps me define what I want and need and look for. I've probably discovered a new kink or two in the process and actually had to come up with the definition of theoretical kinks (things that I like to read, to write, but am not keen on actually putting into practice) in relation to practical kinks (things that I like to read, to write AND love to experience).

The upcoming weeks look rather empty at the moment, I should schedule a bit of culture methinks. And more writing.

Post title taken from "The Taste Of Ink" by The Used, which is awesome and everyone should listen to. Now.

3-2-1, We Came To Fuck

What do you mean, subtle? This is me being subtle...

After getting over that whole what-the-fuck-have-I-done-to-myself after Glade, I obviously had to go and be silly again. In slightly different ways this time, because we don't want my life to get boring, do we?

I started off the weekend with Bab's leaving drinks, socializing with the adults which was nice but boring.

Saturday (last week Saturday, I'm about 7 days behind in my reporting here) the flatmate and I got ourselves ready for Imaginarium. It was the third time they put it on and while the first time had been slightly oversold on expectations (but still good enough for me to go back) and the seconds time had been pretty awesome, it wasn't third time lucky for them. The people were a tad more creepy than they'd been last time and the music was simply shite.

But

I pulled. To be more precise, I pulled even before getting to the club. As in, on the way there. Which is, even for me, pretty fucking amazing and hasn't been done before. My awesomeness knows no boundaries (well, it probably does, but not that night). We flirted for most of the night and then we taxied to an afterparty hosted by his friends, who were lovely and I can't believe I haven't met them before because we go to the same clubs and know the same people. Our hosts started to flake in the later hours of the morning, so it seemed sensible to go to mine and continue the party, maybe even add in some sex. Which we did, and it was really good.

He came over to mine again on Monday, because I had the day off and he works in Wimbledon. I might've gone to meet up with Babs for dinner unwashed and smelling of sex. Don't think anyone noticed. He came over to mine again on Friday. It's actually quite nice hanging out with him.

Unfortunately, there is a downside. Well, not a downside as such, more of a thing that's hard to ignore.

He's 17 years younger than me. Yeah, really. I managed to pull someone that much younger than me, and he didn't freak out and I didn't freak out. My friends high-fived me for my achievement at last night's party, so clearly no-one's freaking out over there, either. I don't know were it'll go, I assume at some point there will be issues because I am aware that it's a huge age gap and if I'd been really stupid and had lost my virginity a lot earlier than I have, he could be my son (talking about freaky here). But he's cute, and actually rather good in bed, especially for someone his age and even compared to some guys quite a bit older than he is. And he sure is enthusiastic and springy as fuck.

So I'm playing this by ear.

Talking about last night's party, where there wasn't any hooking-up although there might've been a bit of groping from a certain older gentleman that I'm insanely fond of, it was pretty cool. It was a friend's birthday party and he's mastered the art of making instant icecream using dry ice and interesting flavour combinations. My favourite was popcorn, followed by soy coconut (a bit like blowing a bounty bar) and in terms of weird combo's, roquefort and honey totally hit the mark. Wasn't particularly thrilled about the egg & bacon or the gin & tonic one, but other people approved. Had a really good time, talked to loads of people I didn't know and went home at a sensible time when the trains were still running.

I'm currently ignoring that I should cook lunch for tomorrow, I've bought all the stuffs for it but just can't be arsed, which means I'm going to the canteen tomorrow and got no one to blame for it but me. I've practised some poi today, in between torrential downpours of rain, and also started working on my poi hooping skills, which are still rather rudimentary.

I'm actually curious to know what I'll get up to next.

The Top Of The World, Sitting Here Wishing

Sometimes I actually surprise myself. I really like when that happens.

The Jubilee weekend had some excellent moments, quite a few thanks to a very lovely man that I very definitely need to see more of. In a non-committal, we're just hanging out and having a lot of dirty fun kinda way. It reminded me of how much I need certain things, can't and don't want to be without them, and it's something he can do extremely well. Or maybe we just match.

I also went to Planet Angel, which was a bit meh. The music is always too fluffy for me, I'm a as-close-as-you-can-get-to-EBM PsyTrance girl. All that love you all, hands in the air, come on and hug already, while certainly nice for chilling, just doesn't do shit for me on the dancefloor. If anything, it makes me angry. So we left as soon as the trains started running again and eventually made it to the afterparty. Which was pretty amazing as far as afterparties go. Met new people who stroked my mind, we went to the park to catch some sun and did I mention that my mind got stroked? 'twas lovely.

Sunday and Monday were a bit of a write-off, because people scare me the day after and there were way too many around. Monday was just plain lazyness. Actually made it out of the house on Tuesday and went to  Camden, where I got all excited about some hippie clothes. It happens like that.

Work between the bank holiday and the weekend was like being in the office between Xmas and New Year, loads of people had taken the week off and it was nice and quiet apart from a bit of a panic on Thursday when everybody around me seemed to realize that, shit, we have to do some work.

Last weekend was on the side of unexpected and interesting. Went to a party that I had pencilled in as a civilized affair, i.e. go there, talk to people about the p*rn I'm writing (because I like talking about it, and I'm excited about it, and I'm actually quite proud I'm doing it, and it's not that I have a reputation to lose), have a few laughs, maybe have one or two drinks, then slouch home around 3 on a nightbus or two. Yeah, that didn't quite happen. I started off being civilized (except for the talking about pretty boys fucking bit), but then someone suggested I have a drink, then suggested having other stuff, and maybe there was the odd balloon or 20. Suddenly it was morning and I was sort of clinging to a friend that so far has stubbornly resisted my charm. He didn't this time, so maybe I'm a tad more convincing when I'm fucked. I didn't get much sleep. And it was ok, I wish it had been better, because I kinda like him. I'm a bit afraid that I'm getting jaded, because I have had such amazingly mind blowing sex in my life that just having normal, yeah-that's-kinda-ok, stick it in and wiggle a bit, sex just doesn't cut it anymore. I want it all and I want more of it. Now.

Please.

Talking about pretty boys fucking, I've written a few more fics. They're currently part of a anony-meme writing thing, so not yet posted anywhere else. I've got two interesting WIPs, a sequel and a second point of view, also working on two more prompts but the boys have gone all shy on me and just don't want to get it on. Hate when that happens.

In terms of 'Wait, what is she doing this weekend', my bags are packed and the car is rented for the journey to Glade tomorrow. The weather forecast looks shitty to say the least, which means I won't do much happy hippie bouncing around and probably more of the warm coat and wellies emo thing, but who knows, it might actually be fun. Festivals in my head are always sunny and feature me looking cute being a hippie. Yes, I know I live in the UK and stuff like that just doesn't happen unless I go somewhere else (Burning Man, y'know), but tell that to my head.

Hope, apparently, dies last. It might just float away in a downpour of rain.