Things to be left in 2013

I hope you all had a wonderful Christmas! Mine was lovely; I spent it running after a two year old boy who has a penchant for smacking me on the bum, making up secret languages and playing hairdressers with a five year old princess, dancing to Beyonce with a 6 month old baby boy in my arms, and trying to stay sober enough not to tell anyone that the ‘friend’ my uncle had brought was actually his psycho fuck buddy who keyed his car three years ago.

my Christmas nails

my Christmas nails

I’m sure you are all obviously aware that a new year is almost upon us. Now, it’s no secret that we all like to associate the new year with new beginnings, new goals and expectations, and that these are rarely ever met. So, instead of the pressure of reaching for something new, I’ve decided that I will instead just leave things behind, because that has to be easier, right?

  1. W – it just has to be done. The time has come to stop relapsing, break the pattern, and move on. He was such a bellend.
  2. Cake – I fucking love cake. I already know this one’s not going to stick, but I’m going to try anyway. The 20 year old told me I would easily lose weight if I just cut down my calories. I don’t really remember the context of this conversation, so don’t quite know if he was being rude or offensive, or not so subtly hinting that I could lose a little. He still wanted to see me naked, though, so I’m not that bothered. Anyway, obviously his advice makes sense, and I’m too lazy for exercise, so we are left with no more cake. Note: this isn’t me setting out to get skinny, it’s just leaving behind cake. Another note: birthdays don’t count. 

    best birthday cake ever

  3. Vomming – induced by alcohol, that is. Obviously the horrific bug type can’t be avoided. Being a state on nights out, however, can. I’ve definitely gotten sloppier with my drinking in 2013. I think that after university, I thought I could drink the same way I used to, just far more sporadically. Wrong. You can’t. Tolerances do adjust. Beware. No more being sick and kicked out of clubs! 

    loving my 23rd birthday

  4. Unsafe sex – because, quite frankly, I’m bloody lucky I’m not knocked up or riddled with diseases. My heart flutters a little every time I feel a searing pain across my abdomen as my ovaries ready themselves to commit mutiny against the rest of my body, my eyes smile in relief every time I lie on the floor in the foetal position to keep myself from being sick; despite the fact that periods are ridiculous, I do look forward to them every month. I used to get yelled at regularly by friends for never being safe, and they were right to yell. It was dumb – being drunk isn’t an excuse! The many, many sober times were even dumber – don’t let anyone convince you that pulling out is an acceptable form of contraception. It isn’t. Though, it seems that even when I do try to be safe, it backfires on me. Life’s funny like that.
  5. Unemployment – it’s time. Although I still have no idea what I want to do, it is time. Suggestions for life choices are more than welcome. Environments that tend to be inhabited by hot, single men would be preferred.

I feel like leaving these things behind will make positive, constructive changes to my life. Obviously this means I shall partake in all five on January 1st.

Are you making New Year’s Resolutions? Is there anything you want to leave in 2013?


‘The Slut Pill’

When the first thing you hear after morning sex with a boy you only met the night before is

Uh oh, the condom split..

you know it’s going to be a shit day.

Let’s rewind a little, shall we? I had drinks with P and went back to his – pretty standard formula. I don’t have much to say about him; 23 year old banker wanker with a cute smile and sparkling eyes, funny and smart but his work takes over his life – this type of boy seems to be available in abundance. Drinks was essentially a polite preamble to banging, completely unnecessary and only in place to make the whole thing seem less slutty.

Things then happened as they usually do. He was one of those that kept insisting we try anal and ‘accidentally’ going for the wrong hole – why do I keep meeting these boys?! Regardless, it was good sex and really what I needed after a month of not getting any action. Unfortunately I was shattered from being out the night before and so only managed to do it twice before passing out. Gutted. So, naturally, when morning rolled around I was well up for it. And this is where we left off.

Upon realising the condom had split and he had finished inside me when I was not on the pill, there was a noticeable shift in the atmosphere of the room. It was an accident. It was no one’s fault. But it was a real shitter. We came to the obvious conclusion that I would have to take the morning after pill. He apologised, I said it was fine, we got dressed and headed out into the rain to Boots. He took me there, waited outside whilst I had to have that little talk with the pharmacist, and paid for the entire little pill.

I’ve taken the morning after pill once before, but as I had snuck out of that boy’s house whilst he was still sleeping without having/leaving any name or contact information (another story for another day), he was unaware of this. So when P paid for the whole thing – I had of course said he didn’t need to – I was quite surprised. When I told my best friend, even she said

I can’t believe he bought the slut pill for you

But then I talked to two male friends about it and they said that they would do and had done the same, or at least had gone halvsies on it. So maybe there is some kind of morning after pill etiquette that I am unaware of? I’d – quite cynically – assumed that most guys would just leave it all to the girl at that point, adopting an ‘it’s her body, it’s her responsibility’ kind of approach. I am glad this seems not to be the case though. It restores a little bit of the faith I had lost in all men folk.

Have you been in a similar situation? How was it handled?