Lonely Schmonely

So, it's a Wednesday night. BOP night, if you're a University student, just a regular mid-week night if you're not. It's 20:47 and I've just put Di Caprio's Shutter Island on in an empty house. I know this is a bad choice, because having seen it before I know it is a mentally freaky movie, and therefore will freak me out when I go to bed later in my big empty house, but hey. What's a little fear every now and again?

I'm realizing tonight that it's okay to be lonely occasionally. Lonely is easier than being surrounded by people who don't really care.

lone·ly/ˈlōnlē/

Adjective:

Sad because one has no friends or company. Without companions; solitary: "passing long lonely hours looking onto the street".

I'm not sad about my loneliness, simply because I know this'll be so, SO, different one day.

I'm looking forward to waking up in the morning, and making coffee for two. 
I'm looking forward to clambering into bed in the middle of the night, sliding in next to you. 
I'm looking forward to laying here with you on the sofa.
So you should get used to be, nightly, pulling you closer. 

I don't mind being lonely, because I know this time next year everything will be completely different.
And I'm excited for it.
Lex. xxxxx

Trusting Me, Trusting You. Oh, I'm trusting you.

I trust my best friends. All of them, however admiteddly, some more than others.
There isn't anything I can do about that.

People don't always understand that when you fall for someone, part of falling for them means that you trust them, without a shadow of a doubt, and you believe them over anyone else.
That's just the way it is.
Even if they have multiple reasons (relevant or otherwise) to believe him to not be being truthful, they can scream blue murder at me, and I'm always likely to side with my person.

Just simply because no one understands the connection between two people, unless you are one of the two involved.
No one else can question it; that's just the way it is.
This is why people don't understand when I say things that they don't believe are true, they question it and I don't care,. it wont change my opinion; simply because I trust him endlessly. I'd trust him with my life.

End of chat. Sorry. :)
Lex.

A Change In Heart

Remember the girl in your college, who was quite happy to be alone, because she didn't have the time or patience to be with anyone else? That was the same girl who couldn't be bothered with other people, so she put herself first. She did pretty well, she got her grades, she knew what she was doing. She was smart. But she had particular views on relationships and love.

People who had the typical happy relationships were silly; you shouldn't put your needs second to someone like that. You should be your priority, and there is no way you can be 17 and in love.

The two don't equate. You have to love yourself before you can love someone else.

 

Now, that same girl, is realising maybe she was wrong. Although romance and lovey-dovey public displays of affection used to make the girl wretch, and roll her eyes at her friends - now she has a different view on the world.
A semi-typcial story of boy meets girl enables her to now be feeling things she thought never existed. Love was never real emotion, and now it's what her world revolves around. Isn't it funny, how one person, the one the world told you you weren't meant to be with, can change your whole perception on the world? 

 

My name's Alexandra, although now mainly I answer to Lex. I'm not conforming to a romantic being, or losing my initial ideas on relationships - I'm merely growing up, and learning that life can be so much better if you accept you may have to let someone in occasionally. I've met someone who is so amazing, I never thought I could feel things like this for someone. I thought I was emotionally crippled, destined to never be in love and get married due to various upbringing strategies. Now however, I can lay with the person I love and happily muse about our life together.

 

This is what growing up does to you - it makes you see things in a new light. A better light. Being 20 may be the worst idea that I have ever had, but if next year brings as many good as things as this year has, bring on 2013.

Being in love with someone teaches you that although you need to look after yourself, it teaches you foremost that someone else can matter just as much. And remember when I once said that you can't love anyone else until you love you? Not true. He loves me enough for the both of us.

 

 

Next time.

Lex.

Did you want some coffee? Yeah, alright. Did you wanna get married? Uh, yeah sure.

And that's it. Apparently, that's how simple it is nowadays.
What IS it with people my age getting engaged all of a sudden?

Two people that played significant parts of my childhood have recently announced their engagements to their other halves, and I can't help but wonder....
Where did the girl go, who ran around Sittingbourne with me, singing Take That at the tops of our voices and laughing about utterly ridiculous crap? She's now stiletto ridden on the weekends, with a car, and now apparently a fiancee.

The other 20 year old who has recently facebooked the "happy news" was my first kiss. The older, attractive  musician he was to me back then has completely faded, and he's just another shittingbourne turn out.

Why are people getting married so young now? What happened to wanting to see the world? Travelling? Getting your heart broken, and learning to be strong enough to pick up the pieces and put yourself back together again? Loving ourselves before we could love anyone else?

No? Is it only me that wants that?
Okay, fine.

My night in A&E

Friday 13th is usually a pretty good day for me. I do believe in certain superstitions, Magpies and whatnot, but as 13 is my lucky number, I've never had any bad luck on Friday's that happened to fall on the 13th.
That was true, up until this year.
As the clock ticked over to Friday 13th of July 2012, I was sat, alone, just having had an x-ray to check if I had any shards of glass in my hand. It turns out I didn't, but I'll fill you in on what happened anyways.

7pm (Thurs 12, July); I literally am dying to go home at this point, I've been at work since 10:30am and all I want to do is go home, have a shower and an early night.

7.20pm (Thurs, 12 July); A guy had just come over to the tills, where I was stood, to let me know he'd just smashed a tester on the floor, by accident. No big deal, I said, I'll call a cleaner. But just before I had intended to, I thought I'd survey the damage myself.
Attempting to clear the larger sections of glass out of other customers way, I picked some up and took them to bin, just as I stood up from crouching, from collecting my second lot, my left foot slipped out from underneath me, and I couldn't do anything but put my hands out in front of me to catch my fall. It was only in doing so, that I sliced a piece of the glass through my left ring finger, just below the knuckle.

8pm; Having been picked up by a random member of staff who didn't belong to my concession, I was taken to the office, had some forms filled out, and had the first aider come to see me. Next thing I knew, I was on the way to The Whittington hospital in North London to get stitches.

10pm; I was now at The Whittington, having been through triage, just waiting. Seeing as I was slightly less important than the man with half a bike-pedal in his leg, I didn't really mind waiting at this stage.

11pm; Still waiting. Bike man was now gone, and everyone else being called through had no obvious ailments. I was seriously considering taking a nap on the floor of the A&E.

11.45pm; I sent my colleague home, as I was called in (FINALLY) to be looked at by an on-call doctor, who looked at my hand and made it bleed a little more,  only to finally make me squirm as she pulled off the two plasters my first aider had put on (never ever put plasters on an untreated laceration) Then eventually she sent me for an X-Ray.

 12:30am (Friday 13, July); Waiting on the other side of the door now. The door that separates the waiting room from the ward, and everyone knows it's always better to be on the ward side than on the waiting room side. I had had my x-ray, and no glass was left it seems, which is good, and no visible nerve or tendon damage, which is also good.

1am (Friday 13, July); Now I was sat in a procedure room having DR Josie Small attend to my wound. First of all, she cleaned it up, which hurt what I thought was a lot, then she started the ring-block anasthetic. Oh holy Christ did that hurt! Imagine jamming a needle into your digit 8 times? Right, now imagine doing that when you already have a giant laceration on your finger. It hurt more than a Tragus piercing. And that is saying something. But after, thank God, I was completely numb. I couldn't feel anything as I watched her put three simple stitches into my finger.
"Tough skin" she said, when she couldn't get the needle through. Is that a good thing or a bad thing? I don't want tough, ugly builders hands.

2am; (Friday 13, July); and now I was home. Crawling into my bed, tired, deflated and not wanting to go into work in 9 hours. Thankfully, my boss text me telling me I was in no way to come to work, and that I should rest.

And thus concludes my one and only trip to A & E to get stitches.
I can safely say I won't be doing that in a hurry.

LT

Fifty Shades by EL James

Remember when One Day (David Nicholls, 2009) came out? It was pasted on every bus that went past, and every other passenger on the tube was reading it? Yeah, well I bought and read it, because everyone else seemed to love it. I, however, did not. I was a little disappointed in the novel that had been hyped up so extortionately. 

Which is why I was ambivalent to pick up a copy of the new craze, that has everyone salivating, Fifty Shades (EL James, 2011). I had heard whispers of the phrase “mummy-porn” associated with James’ novel, but blind to the definition of that term, I let my friends and colleagues urge me to give the trilogy a try.

One abnormally sunny Sunday, I found myself in Hampstead’s Waterstones with a copy of the first book in the trilogy, Fifty Shades of Grey, at the till with my Waterstones card.
I fell for it hook, line and sinker.

Less than two chapters into the novel and I knew I would finish it within the next couple of days. The incredibly addictive relationship blossoms profusely between mysterious Christian Grey and innocent, vanilla Anastasia. And somehow, it pulls you in, until you realise you’ve been sat in Starbucks for the best part of three hours. You’ve been lost in a world that you feel like you shouldn’t be in, still you can’t help but turn page after page.

Chapter four brings the mentions of the obvious sexual tension mounting between our two main characters, but nothing compares to their later conversations discussing contracts, various sexual implements and a very particular BDSM lifestyle. (For those of you, who are vanilla, and who like me had no idea what BDSM is, it stands for bondage, dominance, discipline, submission, sadism and masochism.)
It was only when I’d finished the first instalment that it clicked. Ah yes, mummy porn. Now I understand.

The feeling that you’re reading something you shouldn’t be remains with me throughout the whole second novel, as the sexual aspects only get more in depth, and the erotica well...more erotic. I can’t help but feel like I am blushing, as I read, on the tube to work. But I think that’s a part of these novels that I enjoyed so much.

I am going to read the last one, because it speaks for itself that I have read the first two in a matter of days, but also because I’m not ashamed to say that they are addictive books, that tell stories of glass balls, spreader bars and of course, that brown leather riding crop. And oh, how the mind boggles.

The world has had such a positive response to the books, that the biggest, and best department store in England, Selfridges & Co (Oxford Street) named Fifty Shades of Grey book of the week, and now Ann Summers, the British and multinational retailer of  sex toys and lingerie have no dedicated pages on their website to helping customers find exactly what the Fifty Shades trilogy has intrigued them in.

Yes, maybe Random House could have whittled EL James’ novels down to just one book, but I can’t judge a set that holds not only first, but also second and third place on the best selling Kindle charts.

So, once I’ve got my hands on the last book, I will return to the “romantic, liberating and totally addictive” novel, joining Christian Grey and Ana Steele, in what is turning out to be a nice little read to get me through the summer.  

Till next time. 

Alex.

Bedroom Walls in Freshman Halls

Fresher's. Freshmen.
The first year of University is now officially over as I take down my posters, my pictures and pack my room away into the boxes that I will pack into the car with at 8am tomorrow, and drive home.
I'm not going to go into a huge spiel about all the fabulous people that I've met, and how they've inspired me because it's 25 degrees in the middle of May and I just genuinely can't be bothered right now. They know who they are, the wrong ones and the right ones.
Instead, I'm going to leave you with a few of the quotes I've taken down off my freshmen halls, bedroom walls.


"Paris, is always a good idea."


"Can you imagine no love, pride, deep fried chicken? Your best friend always sticking up for you; even when I know you're wrong. Can you imagine no first dance, freeze dried romance, five hour phone conversations, the best soy latte you've ever had and me?"


"It ain't hard to see who you are underneath. I'm still in love with who I wish you were, and I wish you were here. I've seen your act, and I know all the facts; I'm still in love with who I wish you were."


"I'm not giving up - just starting over."


"Je ne regrette rien..."


"Just because a person is happy and smiling all the time, it doesn't mean their life is perfect; their smile is a symbol of hope and strength."


"Stop being afraid what could go wrong, and start thinking of what could go right..."


"We're fools whether we dance or not, so we may as well dance."


"I may not get over it, but I'll get through it."


"So lately, I've been wondering  - who will be there to take my place? When I'm gone, you'll need love, to light the shadows on your face. If I could, then I would, I'll go wherever you will go. Way up high, or down low. I'll go wherever you will go."


...and last but no means least. A quote from a TV show called Misfits, that I think aptly describes my generation ;)

"We're young! We're supposed to have bad attitudes and shag each other's brains out. We are designed to party! Yeah, so a few of us will overdose or go mental - but...Charles Darwin said you can't make an omelette without breaking some eggs. And by eggs, I do mean getting twatted on a cocktail of class A's. If you could just see yourselves. It breaks my heart. YOU'RE WEARING CARDIGANS. We had it all. We fucked up bigger and better than any generation that came before us. We were so beautiful!!!"