The Reduction of my Anger

It took me about an hour to manage it, but I did eventually pull myself out of bed and into the gym. I think choosing gym over laying in bed was definitely the right choice to make. After spending 90minutes working away at the gym and then a nice hot shower I feel all mellowed out. It's a very enjoyable feeling to have no energy left to spend on anger.

I am now back in bed, all nice and cosy. I have my laptop, a book and chocolate. I do think this is how I will spend the rest of the day. I  feel very relaxed. I still wish I had a dog though.

Still Angry

Despite a solid 8 hours of sleep I am still quite angry. I still wish I had a dog.

It does appear that the message I received saying 'Ass to mouth is acceptable' was sent by Mr Good-Company's rather high friend. So of course now I am wondering if he even realises that I sent him any messages whatsoever.

I really have no idea what to do about being angry, it is very rare that I stay angry for this long. I figure that I have two options here; stay in bed all day (I'm still in bed right now, it's a happy place), or go to the gym and literally work my ass off. Both options come with a catch, staying bed won't make me feel better and I have a tendency to work myself to hard and hurt myself when I go to the gym while angry. But I think gym will be the option of the day as after an hour I'm already bored with my happy place.

The only hurdle now is actually dragging myself out of bed and finding some clothes... I really can't be fucked.

An Angry Update

I am still very, very angry. I know I anger way to easily but I can't help it. I suppose my consolation prize is that I forgive easily, though sometimes I wish I didn't.

I'm so angry that I blew off work tomorrow morning because I know that it's going to take me one hell of a long sleep to calm myself down again other wise I'll just end up letting my anger make me ill. For some reason strong emotions can make me sick. I guess I just don't know how to deal with them in a healthy manner.

When I'm upset I always wish that I had a dog, I'd even settle for my sisters little Maltese Shitzu. Dogs are just better at helping me feel better than cats are. My cat just bit me when I tried to pet her. I'd go back to my parents and visit the animals but someone would wonder why. My mother already thinks I'm going loopy from lack of sleep, who knows what she'd say if I told her about all this!

I should probably think about going to bed soon, but I just feel like being angry and listening to music. I'll try and put another update up tomorrow, but it's entirely possible I just won't want to be fucked doing anything at all.

I am the Spectator

I am the spectator
I can see the world passing by from here
I am just a child, to a man
Back to the dust where i began
I was never even here at all
I am the spectator

Well Fuck You! A Message to Mr Good-Company

10.12pm
Dear Mr Good-Company,
As much as I enjoy the good bits of our arrangement there are times, like right now, when you piss me off beyond belief.

A few days ago I asked you if you were up for some fun this week, you replied 'yeah'. Yesterday, I asked if you wanted to have some fun tonight and you said 'sure'.

It is currently 10.10pm, our Facebook chat stopped dead an hour ago which I at first assumed was due the flakiness of Facebook itself, that was until in never flicked back to 'online' like it usually does. About half an hour ago I sent you a text message 'wtf? I thought we were gonna have some fun tonight?'. No reply. About five minutes ago I sent another text saying 'Christ u fucking piss me off sometimes'. So far no reply.

Not only does this seem to me to be simply inconsiderate, but the other alternative is that you just completely forgot about me. I know that you're not interested me in 'that' way, but regardless of that, being forgotten about still makes me feel like shit.

Sincerely, Jess.

Note: at 10.37pm I received a reply to my text saying 'ass to mouth is acceptable'. Still extremely angry, but knowing my anger usually calms down to a high level of frustration over night, I did my best not to really lose my temper via text and replied 'idiot'.

10.18pm
...Now are online... Jess: wtf?
                              Mr Good-Company: sorry busy atm mate came ova
                              Jess: oh
...Now offline...

10.22pm
Now judging from his last status update which does rather seem as if he was hacked, I now even suspect that wasn't Mr Good-Company in that conversation.

So I still remain so fucking pissed off!

The sad thing is that I'm used to being forgotten, It's happened many times before in my life with many different people. Grandparents, parents and family friends. The worst thing I can gather from the fact that all these different people have forgotten me on different occasions is there is something about me that just makes me not worth remembering. That makes me feel so sad. I'm actually crying! I never cry! Unless I'm watching a sad movie that is.

Now I'm angry at myself for crying! I don't fucking cry! I've always fought to remain in control and crying because of the actions of others whether it be from anger or sadness is a sign of weakness. My parents always used to tell me, no matter how old I was be it 5 or 18 'Oh look at the little baby, she's going to go off and have a cry now'. I will not cry! I hated them so much. How is it possible to hate people but still care about them? Sometimes I'd wish them dead, but at the same time know I'd miss them. They did such a good job of fucking me up how did my little brother and sister turn out okay?

Even now, nearly four years after I stopped, my friends check my arms for scars. Only last Sunday Anita asked to look at my watch. I know she's not looking at my watch and she knows I know this, but it's how we do things. Even when I couldn't stand to be in the same house as my parents, I always knew my friends looked out for me, even though we never actually talked about things. I knew that I could trust them and they knew I needed to see that they were watching me and keeping me safe.

I can remember I once ran to my room to escape an argument that I had begun to cry during. When I was inside I did what I usually do and leant against the door so that no-one could follow me. I had a missed call from Anita so I rang her. She was able to tell as soon as I said hello that something wasn't right 'Jess, are you okay?' I'd barely had time to answer 'yeah' when my father began yelling at me and pushing against the door. He pushed me away from the door, grabbed the phone from my hands screaming 'Who the fuck are you talking to?' before he put the phone in his pocket and continued yelling at me.

I was by this stage doing what I always did when I was to old run away and climb a tree, or I simply couldn't escape. I was sitting in the foetal position, all balled up, as small as I could possibly make myself, into a tight little wad of fear. My father is a terrifying man when he's angry, I inherited that. I remember as a small child seeing him smash the window in the front door because he had come home angry and couldn't find the key. I remember standing there in shock. It was the first time I ever made a connection between violence and anger.

I can't remember how that argument ended, the only thing that makes it different to the multitude of others that occurred over the years is that Anita heard it. I was never able to call her back that evening. We never spoke about it.

I am still not able to cope with anger. Both mine and others scare me. Mine because I have seen small glimpses over the years of what I may be capable of doing to both myself and others. I know how my parents  tempers hurt and scared me, knowing that I will in all likely hood do that to another person both saddens and scares me so much.

I am afraid of the anger of others because I know what I am capable off, I know what my Mother and Father are capable of but I don't know what others are capable of. Do they shrug off anger quickly? Simmer for days on end? Or do they wake the next day with only a bad memory the way I do? Do they make themselves large and scary? Invade my space? Do they throw and break things the way my Father does? Or are they like my Mother? Quiet, crying but saying hurtful things. Always remembering past words or actions of yours that she can throw back at you?

I have been angry before. I have been forgotten before. I have felt truly alone before. Yet I know that if I asked for their help my friends would have a bed made up for me as quick as I could say 'thank you'. As much as I hate asking for help from anyone, be it a GP, a Psychologist a personal trainer or my best friend, I will ask for that help if I can feel my breaking point is near. I don't want to do something stupid.

I know this attitude is another reflection on my upbringing. I was always told that you shouldn't tell others your problems, that I should grow up and start looking after myself, that other people don't need to know what's going on because it's none of their business. But sometimes having someone talk to me and tell me that everything really will be okay one day, is all that I really need. That and a hug. I haven't had anyone hug me when I was upset for close to ten years now. I miss that comfort. The ironic thing is that it was my parents who used to provide this.

All in all: Anger scares me. Being forgotten scares me and being alone scares me. But after experiencing these things for so many years already, are they really worth my tears any more?

It's that time again...

No, not THAT time, but the time when I am pretty much turned on by any slightly sexual thought that flicks its way through my little blonde head. I wrote about this enjoyable/annoying phenomenon last time it occurred, but despite being as regular as clockwork it always manages to surprise me with its arrival.

I have never been much of a fantasiser, but memories and erotica do a particularly good job of turning me on. Now erotica is pretty easy to avoid, just stay away from certain bookmarked pages on my laptop and away from a particular stack of books, trying not to remember things is as close to impossible as you can reach.

now here are some of the memories that keep flitting through my head and are keeping me in a fairly constant state of arousal:

• Being kissed 
• The sight of Mr Good-Company's head between my legs.
• Him rubbing his cock against my clit until I was coming.
• Remembering how wet I become when I'm really, really turned on.
• Sucking on Mr Good-Company's cock whilst he fingers me.
• The feel of his Mr Good-Company's mouth my nipples.

Well this is a rather short post, but after writing/thinking those things I do believe I need to give myself a little bit of attention...

Wednesdayitus

I have an intense dislike of Wednesdays. I want to say ‘hate’ but I have an intense dislike of hating things. I have a feeling about why I dislike Wednesdays but I feel rather like keeping it to myself right now.

Overall Wednesdays are no different to any other day. I wake up and will either go to the gym, work, the doctors or go shopping. It’s of an evening when for some reason Wednesdays start to pull me down. I just want company, people to talk to. For some reason I really dislike my own company of a Wednesday.

Tonight was better than my usual evening spent seeking comfort from something sweet and unhealthy. Tonight was Book Club and it was a pretty good turn-out. There were even a couple of girls closer to my own age. Usually there is about a 20 year age gap between myself and the other attendees. That said, the age gap doesn’t really bother me, after all we’re just talking about whatever book has recently received a bit of hype.

Anyway, it is now Thursday so I can only hope that today and all the days that follow run smooth and happy until the next hump-day that is Wednesday. Now since I have to be up in 5.5 hours it is now off to bed with me. Night all!

Disclaimer: This post was supposed to go up at 12.30am not 'pm', but my internet connection didn't like me so it went up later than originally intended.

Slump Time

The prolific writing that occurred during the first month of this blogs life seems to have slowed a bit of late. That isn't to say I have nothing to write about, it's more a combination of sheer laziness and of being more into drawing than writing at the moment.

I've built up a list of a few conversations I'm going to write about eventually, so I'll just tell you who they are for now.

• The Body-builder
• The Submissive guy
• The 26 year old male virgin
• Bi-Melbourne girl and her fuck buddy

That's all for now, I will try and have something up in the next couple of days but for now I'm going back to the argument I'm having with some uncooperative ink. Wish me luck!

Wish I Fit the Stereotype..

I am a thinking blonde. I always have been and always will be. If an idea comes into my head then I will work at it until I can see all possible and likely outcomes. Often those outcomes can cause me a lot of stress to the point of becoming physically ill. I often wish that I were the sort of person who could just accept things without question, but I'm not. I want to know the answers.

Of late my logical self (the one I often try to ignore) has been thinking. This self was thinking 'This kind of feels like we're being used. This isn't what we expected'. These feelings were further authenticated by the opinions of several friends who know of my arrangement with Mr Good-Company, causing me to begin some serious stressing...

In my life there have been lots of hardships (often of my own creation, but just as often not) that I have had to deal with. I believe that so far I have dealt quite reasonably with things as they stand. My psychologist assures me that everything I feel and do to manage those feelings is totally within reason, after two years with her I have come to trust that she knows what she's on about.

Yesterday I asked Mr Good-Company if he was just using me for fun, my timing probably wasn't fantastic considering he was under the influence of a certain recreational drug. His reply was a rather non-committal 'There's nothing wrong with fun'. This I agreed with though I followed it with asking if he thought we would be friends if we weren't having fun. His reply was a less than reassuring 'Yeah'.

I suppose the feeling of being used comes from the fact that we never do normal 'friend' like stuff. I'm not saying that I don't enjoy the fun side of things, if you've read even a small amount of this blog you'll know that I certainly do. The only 'normal' friend behaviour we seem to engage in is online chats and at time these feel very one sided, more so when compared with how they were in the beginning. After the usual greetings the chats seem to become very quiet on Mr Good-Company's end. I do most of the talking and at times often wait up to ten minutes for a one word reply of 'lol' or 'cool', again in stark contrast to our chats in the first month of knowing each other.

I am someone who absolutely loves talking to people, I will often have 3+ Facebook chats going at anyone time as well as those on the dating site. I often find it easier to have conversations online as my anxiety issues are less likely to kick in. So these one-sided chats leave me feeling, to some degree, quite cheated.

I would certainly like to be friends (in the normal sense of the word) with Mr Good-Company. I have too few friends in this life not to try and hang on to any possible friendship. My anxiety inducing thoughts would certainly be eased by any reassurance of the suggestion friendship outside the more 'fun' part of mine and Mr Good-Company's arrangement.

Disclaimer: Looking back I do believe I was being a bit of a grump and was definitely in need of some chocolate when I wrote this. The friend side of things probably isn't as non-existent as this post makes it out to be. Smile!

Please Explain...

Since last Friday I have spent approximately 90 hours trawling through profiles, chatting with random strangers, accepting and rejecting requests and deleting a large amount of contacts who were, to put it simply, pissing me off. In this time I have come across a few things that leave me completely perplexed and I just haven't been able to figure out the 'why' to some of these things. So I thought I'd indulge in one of my favourite pastimes and make a list. If you know the answer to any of these puzzles, would you please let me know, cause they confuse the hell out of me...

• Why do I receive so many requests from pushy Indian men?
• Is the colour of my knickers/what I'm wearing really relevant to a dirty conversation?
• Why do people delete me after what I thought was a decent chat?
• Id I've refused your contact request once/more than once, why the hell do you keep asking?
• Why is okay to call a complete stranger sexy/cutie/babe/sweetie/darlin/hun and anything else that follows along these lines? I hate that!
• Stop asking me why I'm single!
• Why do people add me and then never talk to me? It's a waste of my time and theirs...
• Why are some guys overly keen? By this I mean the ones who start calling me 'the best thing in their day' or their 'best friend' or the ones that insist I give them my phone number or they want to drive the 4 hours to this town the very next day.
• Why do all the decent people I find live in different states?
• Why do so many guys insist on writing 'I'M NOT GAY' on their profiles?

Well there's my list for now. I'm sure that the more time I spend online the more thing I will be able to add to it. Perhaps someone will start asking the colour of my bra. Who really knows with some of these people...

A Double D Sized Solution

When I set myself the challenge of finding myself dirty chat conversations last weekend the main hurdle I would come across was that the guys I was talking to wanted to have video chats or at least see naughty pictures. Cam chats are something I don't like the idea of, as far as I'm concerned its an absolute 'Nuh'. But after thinking about it for a little while I decided I was okay with the idea of sending pictures.

I was well aware that the guys wanted naked pictures, but that's not what they were going to receive. I'm okay with sending cleavage shots but not nude ones or ones of me in just my underwear. So cleavage shots is what I sent them. Thankfully for me (and I guess them) I've never had any problems in the boob department. Apart from small fluctuations due to weight gain and loss, I have always been more than a handful with my double D sized breasts.

So I arranged my breasts so they looked really good, undid a few buttons on my shirt and spent some time with my camera. I have to say, I think that they turned out pretty well. I certainly received no complaints from those I sent the pictures too, I even received some in return. Now receiving pictures of random hard ons doesn't turn me on, but I have certainly found that they're good for a laugh. Perhaps I'll start a collection...

I decided it would just be mean to put the photo's I received from the guys online, but I certainly have permission to put one of my own up. I'm pretty pleased with this one, so here you go!

Caution: Blonde thinking

Mr Good-Company and I met up again last night. Though we didn't do anything that we haven't already done before, it was an even better time than usual. He was on top of me, I was on top of him and he just kept teasing my clit with his cock. By Christ was I turned on!

Then Mr Good-Company said that he really wanted to have his cock inside of me. I replied that 'I wish it could be, but I think that would be a bad idea. Unfortunately'. I really do wish that he could fuck me. My fear in regards to this is that I will form even more of an emotional attachment than I already have. What I already have is at times already barely controlled (read 'Drunken Cupcakes for more info). I'm afraid that if I do sleep with him it will really mess me up and I'm not sure how much 'messed up-ness' my emotional brain cage can contain. But I really want to have sex!

But I have to say, that I am attracted to him to begin with still amazes me. He just isn't the type I usually find myself going for, and he's shorter than me! I've never been attracted to anyone who was shorter than me! 

It really does confuse me. My logical mind tells me that the reason I do like him is because he's the only guy that's ever shown me any sort of attention before. Its something I'm really not used to. I know that I look much better now than I did 12 months ago, and as much as I can look in the mirror and see that parts of me do look fantastic (neck, shoulders, breasts and waist) I'm still quite self conscious of the bits that I consider unattractive.

I like to think I have fairly good body image. I am currently a size 18/22 but those numbers keep decreasing due to the large amount of exercise that I do. I have a very curvy body shape and I hope never to lose this. I see girls walking out and about with hip bones sticking out of the top of their jeans or bumps of vertebrae outlined against their t-shirts, seeing this make me feel incredibly sad.

As I was growing up I was constantly compared to my younger, much slimmer sister. Though she isn't one of the 'bone' girls she's not far from it. I certainly wouldn't say that she has the curvy shape I desire, apart from in the chest area that is. I will never be the same size as my sister. Even ignoring our differences in weight, we have very different body shapes. Robin is naturally slim, tallish and can eat anything without gaining weight. I, on the other hand, have always gained weight easily, I am much broader in the shoulders and hips and have more muscle than her in general.

But I'm very happy with where I am weight wise right now. I still find the thing with Mr Good-Company quite hard at times, but my psychologist assures me that this and the way I deal with it (Drunken Cupcakes) is all a normal reaction. This does re-assure me, but it doesn't necessarily make me feel better about things. I will continue to puzzle over my attraction to Mr Good-Company (maybe it's because he seems reasonably intelligent? I like intelligence) but I don't know. I will now go back to my online chatting and continue to play with some of the guys who ask what colour my knickers are. I do not understand how the colour of my knickers is necessary information...but that's another topic altogether.

Going Once! Going Twice!

This is pretty much going to be a ‘mind dump’ post. I don’t really have much to say other than further updates on my last post, and they’re really not particularly interesting updates either. I wouldn’t bother, apart from the fact my internet just disconnected me and I am now incredibly bored.

Snowy again began to call me last night. At 4am. This time I didn’t even bother to wait and see if he kept calling. I switched the phone off and went to sleep. He didn’t try calling again after that once, but I’m betting he tries again tonight. My fingers are crossed though.

My other update is in regards to Aryah. Thankfully I’ve had no more texts from him. I don’t think I recall seeing him online either. I did have a bit of a clean-up of my online contacts this evening so hopefully I deleted Aryah, I really can’t remember. But as long he stops they lovey dovey texting shit I really don’t care.

Now in reference to the title of this post, last night someone asked if my virginity was for sale. Obviously a ‘no’ to that one. Though I do remember several years ago several girls did try to sell their virginity via auction. I have been unable to discover if they actually went through with the transaction, but bids did go as high as several million dollars.

I have noticed that this is something that all of my conversations seem to have in common, whether they’re clean or dirty they all seem to swing around to the subject of my virginity. Now obviously I volunteer this information, generally after someone asks the question ‘have you been in many relationships?’ I answer no and receive the response ‘so you’re a virgin?’.

But here’s the bit that always cracks me up, the responses these guys come back with to my answer of ‘yes I’m a virgin’ is all shock, followed by statements of ‘that’s so cool’, ‘that’s sexy’ or the one I hate the most, ‘good girl’. What am I a bloody dog being praised then guys?

Are 21 year old virgins really such a rare thing? I have found out that the average age in Australia, for losing your virginity is 17.8, but have been unable to find out what percentage of that number are women. I suppose that the statements of ‘cool’ and ‘sexy’ are the guys thinking ‘yay, I’ve found myself a virgin’. I don’t bloody know really.

To be honest, I’m not even sure if I’m pleased that I’m a 21 year old virgin. I see it as a result of the way my life was before this year. Perhaps if I had been more outgoing growing up and not morbidly obese, perhaps I would have I’d have had boyfriends years ago and lost it then. Would that have been such a bad thing?

In conclusion to my mind dump I’m going to say that I hate it when people add me on the chat site but then never participate in chats. I am also going to say that this current weather we’re having is way to warm for my liking. So I am now going to sign off, find a book to read and continue lounging around in my underwear whilst drinking what is now a slightly warm bottle of apple cider. Bye bye people.

On Call

Now over the last several days, during the multitude of chat conversations I have been maintaining, I have been repeatedly asked to share my number (and been growing a rather big head from all the compliments). How exactly am I supposed to decide when to give that information? How do I make the call whether or not it's a good idea to actually give that particular person my number?

Before this weekend I have twice given out my number, to Mr Good-Company and to Mr 1984, who luckily for me both turned out to be normal enough folks. This weekend I passed out my number twice more, after fairly lengthy conversations with both guys. It was requested by others many more times, sometimes even right after 'hello'. Both guys I gave my number to seemed like genuinely nice people. In the end one guy sure wasn't, with the other just being waaaaay to over the top with his friendliness.

Snowy was the first guy I gave my number too. We probably hadn't chatted for too long but he really did seem like a nice normal guy. Until he promptly rang me for phone sex. Not cool dude. I was annoyed, but as a bit of an experiment I figured I'd listen to him for a bit and see if it turned me on. It didn't. Firstly I could hardly hear a word the guy was saying, it seriously sounded all muffled like he was hiding under his bed sheets or something. Secondly there is something distinctly off putting about being only able to hear heavy breathing coming down the phone line.... Creepy.

I hung up and pretty much forgot about him, that is until last night. At about 4am the guy came online again and promptly started asking how last night had been for me. I ignored his messages. It felt mean to just delete him while he was online so I just kept ignoring him on both MSN and the chat site. Then he started calling me. Again and again and again. Needless to say I didn't answer. It was really pissing me off though. I hate turning my phone off but in the end that's exactly what I had to do. When I logged on today I blocked him on MSN and the chat site. Now I'm just hoping like hell that he doesn't try ringing me again tonight...

The other guy 'Aryah' is an Indian man and he was really nice to talk to online. We had this really long talk about just really random stuff and (again) he seemed like a really nice guy so we swapped numbers and continued to chat online. Towards the end of the conversation he started to talk about meeting and that started to make me a bit nervous. Call me what you will, but I'm just not keen on meeting people after one chat. It was bedtime anyway so I tactfully (I hope) avoided the topic and signed off for the evening.

The next day the text messages started. They were never lewd or dirty, in fact they just started off nice and friendly which was cool. Then the guy started talking about how seeing couples together made him feel so sad to be single and then he moved on to even more cloyingly sweet topics and started talking about 'true love'. Now hold your horses there a bit buddy and just calm down.  How the hell can someone start talking about love after one convo, and he's not the first guy who's done it either. Now I certainly like to think that I'm a lovely person, but surely no-one can fall in love that fast? I'm not sure whether to ignore this guy or not yet. I mean so far all he's done is come on a bit strong, so far he hasn't tried texting me this evening so I think I'll just wait and see what happens.

Now we're going to talk about Sheldon. I mentioned him in my last post. He wants to meet up for some 'fun' when he's in town in a couple of weeks. I didn't say no at the time, but I have decided to delete the guy from everything. He was fun the first time, probably because he was the first half-decent dirty convo I'd found, but now I just find him really offputting. In our last conversation he just kept going on and on about fucking my ass, even though I had said I find that quite a turn off. It's really is to much of a risk  meeting up with someone just for fun. That said, I really don't think it would have been something I'd have gone through with if I had agreed. Knowing me I would have backed out anyway, I know sheer common sense would have made sure of that.

In all the dirty conversations I have found this weekend the one thing they all have in common is the guys saying how much they would love to cum all over my breasts, in some cases have me rub it in then lick it off. I had to think about this for a while and all I could come up with is that guys are just like animals marking their territory with this request. I asked Mr Good-Company about this fantasy and he also had the same theory, also pointing out that having a girl swallow cum is also under the same category of fantasy. Well I guess all that this shows is that men still have a fair amount of the caveman about them, but hey, there are worse things they could request I'm sure.

I'm currently planning to continue my online trawling, though I must admit I'm mostly looking for more standard 'clean' conversations now. I think I gorged myself on the dirt this weekend. I never thought I could become bored of dirty chats, but for now I think that's what I have done. I haven't even bothered to play with myself for the last couple. Me? Not playing with myself? What is the world cuming to? (kill me now for that pun please). That said some dirty chats have been much better than others Army-Dude is definitely top of the list and is always willing to chat when he's online. Shame about some of the others I've come across though...

I will continue to look for normal, clean conversations tonight though I think, I just finished another dirty one and that guy is not good at these types of chats. He kept going on about swallowing my cum, not only am I not a squirter, but that doesn't turn me on either. Anyway, I'm off to find more (hopefully) hot, decent guys to chat with. Wish me luck! Besides, if you don't, I may not have anything to talk about next time...

An Improvement of Luck

Over the last couple of days I have been continuing with my attempts to find dirty conversations. I have to say that my luck has certainly improved. I decided to create an entirely new online profile, suggesting that I like ‘interesting ;)’ conversations. It certainly seems to have worked.

Within five minutes of being online someone contacted me saying he was ‘intrigued’ by these interesting conversations. We very quickly established what I was on about and we switched over to using MSN. The conversation had only one purpose that was basically ‘fun’.

It was a good chat. The guy, we’ll call him Sheldon, actually sent me a pic of his hard on, I did consider putting it up here but I decided that was just a little bit cruel. This conversation didn’t turn me on too much, mainly because of what the guy looked like, but it certainly was entertaining.

I did however, have a much better chat later that evening (well it was actually about 5am by this point). I managed to find a guy (Army-Dude) who was only looking for casual fun, I made the suggestion of ‘cyber fun’ and he was instantly keen. I have the distinct impression that Army-Dude had done this before, and as a bonus he was moderately hot.

It was a really, really fun conversation. Army-Dude used a lot of detail and pretty much as soon as his words started appearing on my screen I found myself becoming really turned on. It was the kind of dirty conversation I like, the kind where the guy describes with at least a fair amount of detail what he would do with me. For some reason that just really turns me on.

I’ve also involved myself in finding normal conversation. I changed my search criteria to ‘anywhere in Australia’ and I’ve found myself having good conversations with some seemingly genuinely nice people. I’m actually having a lot of fun at the moment simply finding people to talk to, it makes a change from only talking to the people I already know on Facebook.

I probably actually need to give the chat site a bit of a rest, for the last two nights I haven’t logged of before 5:30 am! This morning it was 6:30am and I had to go to work straight away. When I finally dragged myself to bed at 8:30 I was out of it as soon as my head touched the pillow. I even slept through the sound of my phone going off and I never sleep through that, and it went off three times!

Anyway, this is just a quick post to keep you informed of what I’m up to at the moment. I'm have a pretty good (normal) online conversation going at the moment so I think I'll go and continue that. Night people!

A not so Drunken Cupcake evening

When I finished writing yesterday I left no doubt that I was feeling terrible. At that stage I was planning on spending the evening consuming vast quantities of cupcakes and alcohol, whilst finding people to talk to on MSN and Facebook. Luckily for my liver, it ended up being mainly cupcakes that were consumed, luckily for my friends, they weren’t online.

So what exactly did I do all evening? Did I drag myself out of bed? Nope, I stayed there. Bed is now my happy place. Did I have a massive sook and cry myself to sleep? No again and just for future reference, I only cry when I am extremely pissed off. I did however, come up with a brilliant way to keep myself entertained.

I came up with idea (and it sure isn’t an original one) of seeing if I could find random people online who would engage in dirty conversations with me. I decided to base my search in Queensland. No idea why, it was just a random click. I requested contact with a couple of guys and one, Inkwall accepted.

This guy surprised me, after the introductions, with no hints from me, he just dove right into talking about the dirty stuff. See for yourself:

Inkwalls says:

you're cute

but so far away more than your 30km

Jess says:

indeed. this is a little bit of an experiment. a 'why the hell not' sort of thing lol

thanks for the compliment by the way

Inkwalls says:

no worries

ah ok

well im really into meeting ppl

is kinda hard for us

unless u have skype we could cam and chat i suppose?

Jess says:

no unfortunatly :(

Inkwalls says:

you coudl get it?

Jess says:

unfortunatly not with my internet connection. its actually pretty amazing that this messenger thing is working

Inkwalls says:

ah ok

well i guess ur experiment design has some failings

the principal does not however

Jess says:

my experiment was mainly just to find people to chat too. thin pickings in my area lol

Inkwalls says:

true

Jess says:

very true. have managed to make a few friends tho

Inkwalls says:

thats good then

any girls with skype?

lol

Jess says:

not that ive come across yet lol. i keep being contacted by lesbians as their dream date lol

but u need to have a sense of humor about u if u're going to sign up to a site like this

Inkwalls says:

lol

would u let a girl lick you out?

Jess says:

possibly yes

were u expecting me to answer?

Inkwalls says:

wasnt sure so i asked anyways

Jess says:

ha ha! well this is kinda where i was hoping my experiment would lead lol

Inkwalls says:

what too?

Jess says:

'interesting' conversation topics ;)

Inkwalls says:

haha

dont u have enough boys on here for that?

im sure they are all up for it

Jess says:

u'r the first random i've tried, 'interesting' chats are the go lol

Inkwalls says:

haha

well woudl be better if i was there fucking u

Jess says:

indeed it probably would. but as of yet no one has had that privilage

Inkwalls says:

u a virgin?

Jess says:

yes

Inkwalls says:

ok cool

do you have any sisters?

Jess says:

i do. and she isn't a virgin

unfortunatly 4 u she isn't single either lol

Inkwalls says:

how old is she?

Jess says:

19

i am the late bloomer of the family lol

Inkwalls says:

lol

if she was single could she join us

Jess says:

no, id rather play with a girl i'm not related to lol

Inkwalls says:

could she watch us?

or u watch me and her?

Jess says:

nope. but id be happy to have u watch me with someone else

Inkwalls says:

what girl would u choose?

Jess says:

a curvy girl. a brunette with medium breasts and considerable experience. im shy and like to have someone show me wat to do

Inkwalls says:

how old would u like her?

dont worry about experience i got it all

u just choose a girl ill be running the show im the male here

choose an age range for her

Jess says:

between 22 and 28. good to know someones in charge lol

Inkwalls says:

id want one younger

between 16-19

teenager

curvy and hot body

tight young pussy

dirty naughty school girl

Jess says:

19 would be acceptable. I myself was a gd little catholic school girl. only ever been kissed by one guy... but in more than one place ;)

Inkwalls says:

well could we meet half way and say 17

Jess says:

hmmm, how much experience would this 17 year old have?

Inkwalls says:

more than u

and remember

im running the show

ive got the experience

Jess says:

true, but if she's licking me out i want her to know what she's doing

Inkwalls says:

she will

j-atkins says:

good

Inkwalls says:

while she does that what you want me to do

Jess says:

i want you to bit my nipples. i like rough play

Inkwalls says:

i wanna fuck her tight ass

anyways

you need skype

talk gets boring too easy

Jess says:

not if you play with yourself at the same time

thats always fun

Inkwalls says:

nope

id much rather do it with somone in person

or

have u watch and talk to me on skupe while i do it

makes it more personal

plus i can see u then

talking

is boring sorry

u might have to find someone else

Jess says:

awww im sure i will lol

Inkwalls says:

u will

bye

xo

Jess says:

bye

Unfortunatly I didn’t find anyone else to talk to other than SNAG and I don’t want to play at having a naughty conversation with him. When by 12.30am I hadn’t found anyone else to talk to I must admit that  was finding myself rather pissed off. At some point the idea of having a dirty conversation had managed to turn me on. I was actually quite surprised by this. I plan on trying again later tonight.

My other activity for the evening was browsing through the lists of ‘potential suitors’ as normal.Due to the size of this town, there aren’t too many people on the dating site that match my locality criteria. So I widened my search. By about 300kms. I just added so many people, In the end I couldn’t even be stuffed reading profiles. Yet at the same time so many people rejected me.

I did manage to have myself ‘accepted’ by a couple of people. I had one kind of entertaining conversation with a guy I’m going to call ‘Knife’. We just talked about board games. It was a fun conversation. I also spoke to ‘William’, just another normal sort of conversation. I mentioned my new job (at a party supply shop) and we talked about balloons for a while. It was also a good conversation, that is unil William did one of those online disappearing acts that I hate so much.

So concludes the evening of the Drunken Cupcakes. For some reason staying in bed made me tired so I was all tucked in by the relatively early time of 2am. I must admit I was still a bit upset by the Mr Good-Company thing, but as I had hoped, when I woke up this morning things just felt so much better. I think I may have just needed to have that horrible day of moping around. While I wouldn’t say I feel fantastic today, I certainly have a smile on my face. I really hope it sticks around.

Drunken Cupcakes

Cupcakes, alcohol and a fresh page in my notebook. These are my requirements for surviving a shitty day, and today is certainly turning out to be a record breaker in that department.

I’m feeling all mixed up. I’m not sure if I’ve mentioned this, but when I first met Mr Good-Company I was really quite keen on him. Unfortunately somewhere along the line it was discovered that we both wanted different things. Since then I have worked very hard to regain control of my emotional brain. I thought I’d nearly done it, especially when Mr Good-Company declared himself un-single and I didn’t even need to go and have a sook about it. I knew there was still a little bit of feelings there that weren’t yet in my little brain cage, but a little I can deal with.

Then the other night I woke with a familiar feeling, now I warn you that what I say next is going to make me seem like a complete nutter. When I’m in certain situation sometimes I have these feelings, I suppose you might call them my gut instinct. I feel quite nauseaous and occaisionally have to rush to the loo when the nausea reaches it’s high point. The trouble is actually figuring out what this feeling is telling me. I generally find that it’s easier to jump to what seems the most logical conlusion and follow things from there.

The conclusion I jumped to the other night was that Mr Good-Company was un-single again. When I asked him about this he said that he was still single, but was still trying to work his charm on a certain girl he has taken a fancy too. Then he changed the subject to nerf guns. Quite possibly this was a good idea on his part because my emotional side may have otherwise broken free of it’s cage and started asking the kind horrible questions that it seems to take so much joy from. I think my emotional side likes to hurt itself.

Eventually going to sleep last night at around 4am, I knew when woke up this afternoon that my emotional side had somehow worked all it’s little tentacles free of my apparently not well guarded brain cage. It was free and it was pissed.

So now I am in this shitty mood, it feels like I’m back at school with a crush on my teacher. I know that my feelings aren’t reciprocated and I know that not being able to let go of them is causing me pain, but I just can’t seem to win. I know that I like Mr Good-Company way too much but I am sure as hell going to fight it, I don’t have enough friends to risk losing any of them.

Let me further explain to you my way of coping through today. I decided to give my emotions this one day of freedom, they can torture me as much as they like and believe me they are making the most of it. In return for this freedom, my smarter self receives a lazy and unhealthy day, mainly because thanks to the efforts of the emotions it really just can’t be fucked facing anybody.

As such, it is currently 4.45pm and I am still in bed, I have left only for the necessaries of toilet, cupcakes, alcohol and laptop. I have basically spent the day with my thoughts. I haven’t done anything but lie in bed, staring at various objects in the room, envisaging doing horrible things to myself the way that I used too.

I used to be a self-harmer. As I think of it, I still am a self-harmer. It is a life long addiction which I slowly learnt how to manage over a long period of time. I stopped cutting on the 24^th of May 2007. I stopped then because I was becoming more ambitious. Instead of little scratches that could be hidden by my watch, they were becoming deeper and slowly creeping up my arm. Too make matters worse I constantly had images of my wrists being fully slit, a gaping gash with blood just pouring out. And I wanted to try it. The unfortunate catch was that I didn’t want to kill myself. I knew there was a very good chance that life would one day improve for me and it certainly wasn’t going to happen if my rotting corpse was 6ft under.

So I stopped. Just like that. Every day was the hardest war that I have ever fought. Unlike smoking, a self-harm addict can’t go out and buy patches. I had no help from doctors or drugs. I fought alone and I fought hard. I had to. I was literally fighting for my own life.

I had one relapse about 18 months ago. It was just one cut and thankfully it did not give the effect that it once would have done. I find self-harm to be a very hard addiction to explain to people. Unless you’ve experienced it first hand it is something very hard to wrap your head around. I do like a little bit of pain. I love having needles, bruises and I like ‘things’ to be a little rough at times, but self harm is a different sort of pain altogether.

Self harm requires a lot of self-control. I think, for me anyway, that is what it is about. When I am slicing into my own flesh I have this amazing rush of, I suppose it’s adrenaline, to my head. For the briefest moment I am flying on that rush of pain. I’m proud of the control it took to start the cut, I’m proud of the control that it took to slide the razor through my skin and I’m proud of the fact that this is something I have done only for myself.

But then the rush dissipates and I come crashing down, so I do it again, and again and again. Never too many at once as the spot on my wrist doesn’t have room for the amount of cuts I would make if I could've, but generally I would make between three and five cuts. New over the top of old.

I never bled much from these small wounds but they did leave me with many scars. I am not ashamed of them and I don’t cover them. They are my war wounds and I survived. I am incredibly proud of that.

But on days like today when my emotions have slipped beyond my grasp the need to slice comes back and I fight it. So far, apart from that relapse, I have always won. I fear the day I really lose control as that could always be the day I finally take things too far.

I have also made a big decision today. If things don’t work my way it may never happen, but I’m sure as all hell planning on making sure they do go my way. I have officially decided to move out of this town and down to Melbourne. I can recognise in my mind that I’m doing what I always do when things become too hard and that is to run away. But running away isn’t always a bad thing.

By the end of this year I will have lived in this place for four years. That is the longest amount of time I’ve lived in any one place since I was ten years old. As much as I’m running away, by the end of this year it will also simply be just time for me to go.

I know it will be a very hard move and I’m not sure how I will achieve it. If ever there was a country bumpkin it was me. But I know my own mind and I am stubborn as all hell. When I moved to this town it was a fresh start. No-body knew me and it was a chance to really be myself. Well now I am somebody else once again and this girl wants her turn in the spotlight and she’s gonna have that turn.

Back to my shitty mood now. Just like this blog post my mood has gone from depressingly morose to weirdly optimistic over the course of the day. Unfortunately I know from past experience that it is not going to improve from here. As evening approaches alcohol will be mixed with cupcakes and I will have this massive rush from all the sugar and the alcohol. As one vice is removed, a replacement shall step in. At least it’ll cause me to pull myself out of bed, I can never sit still when drunk.

My mood will further improve briefly simply from human interaction via the temperamental portal that is Facebook chat, but as everybody but myself shuts down for the evening I shall be left to my thoughts, battling to re-cage those emotions so that I can start tomorrow afresh.

I hope like all hell that I can do it, because I really, really hate having to deal with un-reciprocated feelings.

Temper

I accidentally ended up writing this story when I was typing my last blog post. This blog isn't really the right place to share it but I'm not really sure where is. I apologise if you came here looking for naughty stories, but you will not find anything of the sort in this tale. Parts of it are taken from my own life experiences whilst other parts are fiction. This is also the first short story that I've ever written. I would greatly appreciate any feedback that can be given.

The young teen stands still, her back against the wall. She opens her mouth to defend herself but her young voice is quickly overpowered by the deep voice of the man in front of her. The man moves within inches of her face, screaming at the top of his lungs. Spit lands on the girls face and arms as the man screams and she is clearly able to pick the false teeth from the real. He holds her roughly by her upper arm, pinning the girl in place with the strength of a man thirty years her senior. She struggles like a person possessed. 'The little bitch' knows she can escape her fathers grasp, she just has to reach the nearest escape route. 

She tears herself free. Mother and Siblings block the doorways. She stares around in panic, trying to keep out of her fathers reach. The only way out is past her Father, Mother or Siblings. Three exits. An eleven and a nine year old blocking one of them. Why? Because Daddy told them too. Mother at the front door. Father screaming, yet blocking the third exit at the same time. 

She won't be able to go past the siblings. She know's from past experience just how capable of hurting them she is. More so now that pure rage is flowing from every cell in her strong body. She likes Mother too, knows she's also only doing what she is told, even though Mother always denies that fact. 

It's Father then. The girl knows she cannot really hurt him. Strong as she is she has none of the muscle that a lifetime of physical work will bring a person. She doesn't duck and weave. She doesn't beg and plead. She thinks only of her escape, of the freedom she knows she will have if only she can reach the back door. She has no time or distance for a run-up. She charges towards her Father only hoping that he is unable to grab a firm hold of her as she passes. 

She is lucky. The girl is able to tear her jacket free of his clutching hands and she sprints away, through the back door and out into the fresh afternoon air. She runs. She keeps running. Over the fence and through the vegetable garden. Over the next fence and into the nearest group of trees. 

She can hear her family behind her. The young girl climbs the nearest tree, an apple, to the highest point that the tree will support her. She stays up there, watching her parents pass underneath. She has learnt that people never look up.

She remains there all afternoon, listening to them call her name. She watches the darkness desend, feeling the chill of the autumn air, noticing the ceasing of the search. She begins to feel her heart calm itself and the fear recede. 

The girls sister, gangly and awkward in her pre-teen years, yet retaining the look of a young child, stands beneath the branches of the apple tree and looks up at her older sister. In a whisper the young girl begins to plead.

‘Jess? Please come down now? It's okay. Daddy won't yell. He's watching TV with Mummy. They've forgotten about all of it. Just come inside. We don't even have to say your back. Please Jess. Please come home? Please.’

Jess listens to her sister plead. She does know that her sister cares. It saddens her to hear this young child pleading, pleading for her big sister to come home. 

Jess begins to cry again. She knows that she has a temper, she's just like her father. She does terrible things to those she loves when angry. Her siblings should not have to see her like that. 

Jess stays in the tree for what feels like an age before wiping the fresh tears from her face. She climbs down from the darkness and takes her sisters hand, letting the younger girl lead her home.

Their parents see the girls coming. As the two sisters pass little Robin breathes 'I've got her'.

Both Mother and Father watch the girls pass into the darkness, saying nothing.

Robin leads Jess to the bedroom window. The girls climb into the room and Robin plays nurse, tucking her big sister into bed. She turns off the light and quietly closes the door, leaving Jess to her thoughts.

Jess pulls her blankets tightly around her, safely cocooned in their warmth. She knows that when she wakes in the morning everybody will pretend nothing has happened. It will all be forgotten. Until next time the insults begin to fly, until the next time Jess runs.  

Dress in your glad rags people, it's time for a bitch

IN BOOMING ANNOUNCER VOICE: Welcome, welcome all! Now let me introduce you to the excuse of the evening! A rarely used excuse, dressed beautifully in red. Come on down...PMS!

I do not suffer from PMS, never have and hopefully never will, but if there's a good excuse available then I'm going to use it, and I just really want a reason to have a good bitch. Does anyone else ever feel that just having a bitch, a rant, a bloody friggen full scale temper tantrum will just make them feel so much fucking better? Or is it just me? I don't care. I'm here to bitch and rant but I hope avoid the full scale temper tantrum as there is no-one around to appreciate my efforts.

IN BOOMING ANNOUNCER VOICE: Our topic of the day... is 'the demise of social etiquette in this technological age'!

I don't mind swearing, I even partake in this enjoyable activity upon occasion especially when angry. There's not to much swearing in my everyday conversation but it really doesn't bother me to hear it in other people's either. There are many things that I'm not phased by that would have an etiquette teacher rolling in her grave. I'm not bothered by swearing, or people being excessivly drunk. I really couldn't give a fuck about people texting while in a middle of a conversation with me (most of the time). Nor do I care about the sales cashier who doesn't say a word throughout the entire transaction.

Why do I not care? I just don't. Why should I give a flying fuck if the cashier says please or thank you? Why should I care that my friend is talking to me and texting at the same time? I trust that she's listening to me at the same time. As for exseccivly drunk people, they're just bloody entertaining.

But thats not to say 'I don't care' about everything. Three things that really piss me off, in order:

1.     People not saying 'bye' when leaving MSN/Facebook type chat conversations.

2.     The silent treatment.

3.     People not replying to text messages.

IN BOOMING ANNOUNCER VOICE: Topic. Number. One!

My big bitch of this evening will, I do warn you, be mainly about topic #1. This seriously pisses me off so much! It amazes me how angry this little thing makes me, it really does amaze me! I am angered quite easily by the actions of family, but very few times in my life do the actions of my friends turn me into a blonde version of The Incredible Hulk, but not saying 'bye' and then waiting for the reply will have me raging every single time.

Why am I writing about this here you ask? Your answer is three words: Mr Good-Company. He used to be so good at online conversations! They would go for hours, yeah we probably know each other well enough to run out of stuff to say now, but I love a good conversation. Nobody ever talks to me apart from my best friend Anita, my neighbour Alli and occasionally SNAG and I are online at the same time. It's fine with me that Mr Good-Company is tired, I can live with that, but I do really enjoy talking to him (maybe to much). But I really love a good conversation! I am starved of conversation!

Now back to the not saying 'bye' thing. Mr Good-Company used to be really good, saying 'bye' and 'see ya' at the end of each conversation. But now it's becoming a bit infrequent. Now I treat online conversations as you would a phone call, just with time to think up what you're going to say next. I hate it when people hang up on me, it feels as if you're not worth the time it takes to say 'goodbye' or 'night'. I feel the same way about abruptly ending online conversations. It's as if the other participant has slammed the phone down saying 'I just can't be fucked talking to you any more'. It's just plain rude and that hurts. That said, I know I do tend to take things to heart sometimes, but I don't think that this is one of those times. I'm sticking by my reasoning, not saying 'bye' is rude and hurtful to me. Nothings changing that viewpoint.

IN BOOMING ANNOUNCER VOICE: Topic. Number. Two!

I hate the silent treatment nearly as much as I do the 'bye' thing. It's only number #2 because it happens less often. I received the silent treatment a hell of a lot when I was growing up. My parents, and then my sibling used it when I was angry. Instead of addressing the reason I was angry I was completely ignored. I think what hurt more than being ignored by my parents was being ignored by my younger brother and sister. Growing up it's supposed to be kids against adults. But being the angels they were (unlike the oh so rebellious me) they did as they were told. 

Being ignored hurts. It's shutting the door in your face. It's saying 'you're not even worth the effort it would take to talk to you'. It frustrates me beyond belief because there is nothing you can do about. You can yell and scream but there's no reaction. So what's the point to it? Useless. Then you can have all the negative follow on thoughts of  'maybe I am worthless', 'what is the point?' and 'Why I do I bother?'. These all lead to submitting. I will say right now to anybody who is reading this: I. Will. NEVER. Give. In! You fuckers out there will never beat me! EVER!

IN BOOMING ANNOUNCER VOICE: Topic. Number. Three!

Topic number #3 is more of a pet hate. Sometimes text messages don't actually require a reply. But if I send a message asking a question, I want a reply and I don't mean in two days time. Within 8-12 hours as a maximum acceptable window of reply. The sooner the better. 

Well my rant sort of deflated there. I did't really have much to say about text messages. It was mainly there to give me a decent amount of dot points anyway. But at least I feel better now. I will point out that I accidentally ended up writing a sad story halfway through this post and that really helped me to calm down. I'm not angry any more.

Well there you go people. I hope that was worth tuning in for. I certainly enjoyed it. There's nothing quite like having an international audience to bitch too.It really makes it feel worth it. This is probably the first of many rants if I can keep this blog going. I'll just have to hope that I don't run out of material.

IN BOOMING ANNOUNCER VOICE: We all hope you had a fantastic time here folks! Please come back next time! Good day and good night!

Running from the Net

I am aware of how young I actually am. At 21 years of age I hope to be alive for a great many years yet. But I have recently been thinking of what it is that I want to achieve within those years. In my life so far I have never really left the safety net that is family and that of the familiar. I have reached a point somewhere in the past 6 months where the unachievable, the unknown and that which has always been beyond my reach, is now clearly outlined on the horizon. I believe that my ship is no longer becalmed, but has a strong wind in it's sails and that some of things I have long wanted to try, but been to afraid of reaching for, will very soon be clearly within sight.

With that in mind, I have decided to share with you my 'List of things I shall do one day'. This list contains things that I can achieve on my own, with willpower, hardwork and the right motivation. You will not find on this list the standard "be married, have 2.5 kids' thing or even 'be in a relationship'. These are not achievable goals. They are dreams and wishes and hopes. As much as I would like my life to head in that direction at some point, there are just no guarantees. Unlike everything else on my list these things are not a certainty.

Without much further fuss and bother, here is my list of 'Things I Shall do one day':

• Run a marathon.
• Write a book (possibly based on the material within my blogs).
• Travel-New York, London, Egypt, Europe, Stonehenge, Outback Australia
• Own a house (near the beach).
• Go to a concert
• Make my weight loss blog public (sorry folks, can't let you read that one without giving away my indentity).
• Learn to walk in heels/wear make-up.
• Write an erotic story (or two).
• Road trip!
• Move away from this town and out of my safety net- Geelong? Melbourne?
• Find the elusive cookbooks.
• Live independantly e.g without any financial assistance.

Well there we go, nothing really to do with dating or sex or any of that subject unless you decide to count the erotic story. But it's my blog, so I shall do what I like. I will point out that many of these are long term goals but I know I will achieve them eventually. Over time I imagine this list will grow and evolve just as I continue to do so in my everyday life, but right now, this is it.