Tag Archives: misunderstanding

Grow Up

Stop being such a silly, fucking cow.

So I snapped at you. Big deal.

It was over two weeks ago for fuck’s sake. It was late, I was hot, I was tired and you were looking for me to fix something that was frankly unfixable at the time.

But no, I shouldn’t have snapped at you and I am sorry and I’d have said it to you if you had told me that you were even the slightest bit upset. But now… now you’ve just dicked me right off.

Rather than tell me I upset you, you haven’t even had the balls to tell me that I upset/annoyed/bothered you. Instead you’ve decided to act like a child and become the Supreme High Empress of Passive Aggression; blanking me when I try to make conversation, or giving me monosyllabic answers when I give you no option but to reply to me; sneering at me when I speak, and CONSTANTLY contradicting whatever I say, just for the sake of it.

I swear, if you turn around & tell me that the sky is green and leaves are orange and my hair is straight I will be in no way shocked. Although I will be forced to hit you upside the head with a frying pan, Vic & Bob style. Badoooiiiinnnnngggggg!!!!!!

Sooner or later, you’ll grow up. Sooner I hope because you need to, as frankly you’re too old to act like a spoilt little brat. And I for one am far too old to entertain this nonsense.


Now, I’m a believer… or am I?

It’s been a bit of a week for all things relationship, sex, heartbreak, mischief & fun related in my world. The majority of these things haven’t been going on in my life specifically (I’d be exhausted), but largely those of my friends: most of whom I’ve been lending a listening ear or giving sought after advice to (I try not to give the unsought after stuff, though admittedly have been guilty de temps a temp).

This week’s tales of woe include a very close friend whose young & passionate relationship hit a brick wall at enormous speed due to the emotional fuckwittage & utter lack of balls of the man involved; an old & very dear friend in the aftermath of an emotional conflict that he/she can’t tell their significant other about; a friend who’s fighting off the interference of others in their otherwise blissfully happy relationship and a couple of other friends who are dabbling in the world of online dating, with varying degrees of success.

Then there’s myself, happily single but always up for a bit of fun from time to time – though very unsure about whether I actually want a relationship or whether I would, as I suspect, run a mile – yet still managing to get confused about what men want from me & how that differs from what I want from them, or one in particular this week anyway.

The crux of the situation is that pretty much everyone is out there looking for the right one and all that jazz. And we all handle it in different ways. Lots of my girlfriends have various theories about the ways that they subconsciously sabotage relationships, dates etc and to be honest, I’ve never really held much sway in all that stuff – I tend to think of it as the refuge of the “needy girl”, never something I have ever aspired to be. I’m very much of the, “it’ll happen when it happens and go about your life in the meantime” school of relationships & not worrying about it too much really.

Then I read an article in the Style magazine of the Sunday Times that made me wonder if I’m actually a bit of a commitment-phobe. If that is really why I remain single? Is that my “sabotaging behaviour”?

Men have been notoriously branded commitment-phobic for a long time, and with very good reason (ask anyone, male or female, they’ll have a story about it). But the article raises the question of commitment-phobia among women. And I for one am convinced. While all of my friends seem to be having relationships or at the very least looking for them, I am blithely going about my life not really giving it any kind of priority or caring about it much either.

Turns out I may very well be commitment agnostic. Not necessarilly fully phobic about commitment but it’ll take someone very special to make me willing to do it again. I tend to want something a lot more casual and no strings – the benefits of a relationship without the responsibility or depth of feeling… or very probably, the risk of getting hurt. And judging by the many dramas that I’ve been hearing about this week I’m not necessarily on the wrong track here.

I’m not a needy girl always seeking reassurance from men; the victim who constantly gets shat on from a great height only to go back for more, or the high maintenance girl who finds a bloke only to make a million demands & try to change him. I have a massive lack of respect for those girls – they give the rest of us a bad name.

No, I’m the girl that isn’t going to go seeking a relationship. If it happens, it happens (assuming I haven’t fled for the hills) yet in the meantime, I’m going to be honest, yeah I want men in my life – that’s what “friends with benefits” were invented for 😉 And I’m cool with that, it doesn’t make me a slag as I’m pretty picky about who my FWBs are and I’m not using it as a means of snagging a bloke either. I  choose it because I’m not sure I “believe” commitment to be the right thing for me, at least not right now…

… but who knows, maybe one day I’ll find someone who’ll make me sing like the Monkees?

Flirting with disaster

Hello, my name is curlydena and I’m a flirtaholic.

Actually, that’s not strictly true. I’m not addicted to flirting, I just do it a lot apparently. With friends, people on the phone, the bus driver, the 70+ year old dude I bought a packet of smokes from at the weekend, the list goes on. The point is, I’m pretty much an omniflirter – my flirting is utterly lacking in any form of discernment at all. It’s what you could call a pretty scatter-gun approach.

Therein lies the rub though. People misunderstand my flirting and mistake it for more than it is. I don’t flirt in a predatory way though, AT ALL, especially as I’m more than likely to be totally oblivious to the fact I’m doing it. In my world I’m just being friendly and bubbly and all that sort of jazz, but in the eyes of others I’m being flirty. So, to figure out how to reign it in I guess I should look at what constitutes flirting exactly?

According to “sexpert” (and oh my f*cking word, what a claim to fame that is, I don’t think) Tracey Cox, you know a woman is flirting when:

“She’s attracted if . . .

  • She’s looking at your mouth
  • She’s lightly stroking her outer thigh
  • She starts massaging her neck
  • She flashes her wrists
  • She stands with her legs apart, weight on one foot, hips tilted
  • She starts invading your space with objects
  • She darts short, repetitive glances your way”
  • (Source: Superflirt – Tracey Cox http://short.ie/tvjvca )

    Now, I’ll admit to being a tactile person, that’s just me letting you know I’m comfortable with you more than anything, and I do massage my neck a lot, but that’s mainly because I am REALLY overdue a visit to the Osteopath to sort out my shit posture. I don’t however, go around standing with my legs apart, lightly stroking my own thighs, that kind of stuff can get a person arrested! And I don’t invade people’s spaces with objects – nor am I aware of any of my girl friends having ever built a wall of clutter around a person to signal their interest in them.

    So the mystery continues. After ooh, about 3 minutes thinking it over though, I think I am considered flirty for the following reasons mainly:

    • I’m fairly tactile
    • I like to look people in the eye when talking to them and smile
    • I have a total love of mischief
    • I have a fairly pesky sense of humour
    • I just am – it’s clearly part of my DNA or something

    I’m not about to change any of these though, they’re a basic part of who I am, especially the DNA bit. What does this mean? Well, I’m going to carry on flirting my way through life really. The day’s always that bit nicer with a bit of flirty banter though, I reckon. Sod it, it er, perks me up anyway. Meanwhile, people are free to mis-interpret it all they want too; and they do, but that’s fine. While the world thinks I fancy everyone I come across, I know when I’m genuinely interested in someone, as ironically enough, they tend to be the people I get the most shy around & wait for them to make a move – kind of like the female equivalent of “Field of Dreams” I like to think, haha.

    So, in conclusion. I’m a flirt. I like being a flirt. A mischievous, funny, harmless flirt. And I shall continue flirting in my own inimitable way. I will not however, be standing legs akimbo & stroking my own thighs, whilst simultaneously building a woman-made wall made of randomly found jetsam around a person – all sounds like too much effort for me.

    And to the next person I clam up around totally – I’ve built it, the rest is up to you.