As I pulled up into his very tight driveway, my L plates were being tested and all that was left to do was ring the doorbell.

Ok, so before I get into part three of my foreign Hun let’s just go back in time before him. Jokes. Do you think I’d do that to you? I definitely wouldn’t do that to myself I’d never hear the end of it, But I have to say I had a giggle writing it.

Ladies and gentlemen, the wait is over. Your order of Foreign Hun is ready. So sit back, relax and brace yourself. It’s going to be a bumpy ride.

#learnerindating

It was a Friday not just any Friday it was possibly sexday. (Bloody would want to be!) The day I had been working towards the last eight weeks like it was an actual goal. Like, get a life love! But to me, this was an important day. This day wasn’t just about having sex but it was me finally saying goodbye to “He-who-shall-not-be-named”. By me sleeping with my foreign babe I was starting a new chapter in my life. My memories of sleeping with “He-who-shall-not-be-named” will no longer be my last thought, as he will not be my last. He will soon be replaced and it will be out with the old and in with the new.

“Goodbye my lover”

As I drove to the house he rented out with his mate, I was shitting it. Like, this is not something I’m used to. I’m flipping going over to stay with a guy I don’t flipping know, to go out drinking and hopefully score the D.

What the flipping flop?

Do I kiss him when I see him?

What do we talk about?

Will it be awkward?

Will he notice *Operation sex ready* took place?

As I pulled up into his very tight driveway, my L plates were being tested and all that was left to do was ring the doorbell. Easy. Easy peasy. Omfg I’m going to die.

*Ding dong* “Shit,shit,shit, hello”.

There he was in the flesh, no, he was literally in the flesh he was only wearing shorts, you’re in Dublin now love hope you brought something a bit warmer. He was still beautiful. It was hard to not look at what I’d be riding later on. I mean he was giving me a full on teaser of what was to come, and I was buying. Having said that, I couldn’t look the chap in the eye because I was so nervous, but that was nothing a litre of vodka couldn’t solve.

Once settled, the conversation was flowing and so were the drinks, your man put a shirt on and I could finally look him the eye. As we left to go to town, yes I was tipsy, but nothing I couldn’t handle. One thing for sure is, I know my limits. Sure didn’t I only meet him in Copper’s sober? He said he wanted to watch the Liverpool match because he’s a big fan. Yeah well I’m a big fan of good company but I’m not going to get that with the stupid football. So I played along, acting like I was interested but honestly couldn’t give a shit. The things we women have to do.

During the game we were getting on great, having a cheeky kiss every now and then and I was actually so happy. Then Liverpool won the match and we were cheering, it just felt like it was going to be a great night.

We moved on to PYG to get the cocktail buzz flowing, and he paid. When he handed me my drink I was feeling so attracted to him and I was happy I went through *operation sex ready* because it was so worth it. I was definitely giving him the V in exchange for the D. Then after flirty banter I went in for a kiss, but he pulled away. So I slapped him on the arm (In a flirty way) and said “Ya little shit” Thinking he was teasing me or messing around or something, but no, he was serious. He then said “I don’t like kissing in public or being affectionate” Ok, things just got awkward.

What the feck has changed since the last pub?

If I can’t do what feels natural then what can I do?

Where does this leave us?

Now just to be clear, the kisses he didn’t want in public, were pecks. Which he was all for in the last place. The affection was me wanting to hold his hand while we walked to the next club. Nothing was out of the ordinary. Now keep in mind this is the same boy that was an ass slapping, nipple twisting, face licking fan the last time he was here and now pecks and hand holding is too much. Are you all of a sudden a practicing born-again Christian? I will be honest with you. I was taken back by this, I was so confused and feeling like I couldn’t be myself.

Things got quiet real quick. I was clearly upset because he said “I know you want to cry because I can see it in your eyes” Well, You just rejected me in a club and put a downer on the whole night after we were having a nice time, as well as ruining all my preparations, so yeah I’m upset, you idiot. I never said that to him, I should have, but tbh I didn’t know what to say other than smile and sway side to side to the music sipping my drink. I knew I was staying in his house because my stuff was already there, but I didn’t even know what this was anymore.

We then moved on to Dicey’s. Why? I will never know. As we walked down the street I said “you really don’t want to kiss in public?” and he said “No, We can kiss now” delighted with life and putting PYG behind us, I was hopeful that the night would be more like the start. Until we got inside and it was back to the restrictions. Ugh. What the f**k. It’s a fact, the more drunk I get, the more I want affection, especially after not having it for so long.

Just love me already.

So Dicey’s is a place you dance. Did we? No. Apparently he doesn’t do dancing either. Once again, didn’t stop him last time. I was starting to think, he must have got abducted by aliens and got a personality transplant from cool to fool.

He sat down, on his phone, talking to someone more fun than me, clearly. As he was doing this, I was making pals with people walking by and dancing with them. I didn’t put this much effort into getting dressed up to sit and look at him on his phone. It was time to call it a night and as we walked home in the friend zone, let’s be real. I had no idea what was going to happen. He then held my hand and said my hands were dry. Aw here stop, you’re killing me. Eventually he stopped me outside his house and said “I’m sorry about tonight” and gave me a big squeeze.

When we walked into the house we went straight upstairs and got ready for bed. There we were lying in bed and he made the first move. We were kissing away and he was ripping the clothes off me, so l knew where this was going. Even though he was a d**k to me basically the whole night, I was thinking, should I be sleeping with him? He doesn’t deserve the V. But the truth is I didn’t care, I wanted it just as much as he did and everything he’d done tonight was on the floor, along with our clothes.

He was just about to put it in and l stopped him to say “I’m a bit nervous, you’re the first person I had sex with in 5 years” to which he replied. “So what, l don’t care”. At this point I was really starting to think my foreign bae was just a foreign dope. But nonetheless I was already naked and I slept with him because l wanted to.

All I can say is, I don’t know why this boy was so cocky, a G-string could have held in what he was packing. Now I understand the phrase “Is it in yet?” Note to boys, if you act like a d**k it doesn’t make “it” grow any bigger. Just, still makes you a d**k!

I was getting nothing out of it, at all. When you want something done right, you have to get on top and do it yourself. Success, I was officially not “He-who-shall-not-be-named’s” last anymore. As he slept, he snored like a pig and I couldn’t sleep for the life of me. I was also parched, so I put on my clothes and went downstairs to get water. Then on my way back I stopped in to the bathroom to freshen up, Brush the teeth, baby wipe myself, fix me eyebrows, you know, the usual.

When l got back to his room, all I could see was a big hairy ass sticking out. Stop, did I actually just sleep with a monkey. Then to top it off, he let out a whopper of a fart. Like, give me strength. I am officially sober.

The bath from the intro doesn’t seem so bad now.

The next day he woke up and went downstairs and l pretended to be fast asleep. I heard the kettle boil and l was like fab if he brings me up tea in bed now I’ll forget everything #keeper, but no tea.

Fast forward to night two.

So l went home to get ready because it’s too early for him to be seeing that chaos and I have to say I was looking absolutely stunning and I’m not just saying this. Foreign bae was lucky to be walking around with me. When l got back to the house, he was so quiet and awkward with me. I put it down to him being tired although it was me awake all night with his snoring.

So off we went to the dogs. Literally this is where I should have told him to f**k off because this, us, or whatever we were, went to the dogs. I was the only one making conversation, he was laughing but was it with me or at me? He made no effort to talk back. Only new to this, as you can imagine, I started to overthink.

Was l not good at sex?

Was he just done with me?

Why is he being off?

Why did his personality flip?

Where is the man gone that I was texting for eight weeks?

After the dogs we went to a club, so I was like feck it, l have to say something. “Are you not into me anymore? If you’re not, just say it and I’ll go home”. Which he replied “We’re cool” and then I said, “Well if this was a date, it’s not a very good impression”. And he replied “But it’s not a date”.

Ok that hurt and I felt everything up until this point has been a complete waste of my time. Again, I should have told him to f**k off but again, l didn’t. I just pretended I didn’t care, but l did. He was being so awful and it was like he was trying to push me away, but then when I asked him, he couldn’t give me an answer.

I went to the toilet and on my return, he was nowhere to be found. I was thinking there is no way he would just leave me, would he? Yes, he left me alone in town with no phone, because I left it, charging, at his house with my stuff. I have never felt so rejected in my life, then walking to get a taxi crying with ten euro hoping it will get me home because I was supposed to stay with him. How could someone be so cruel to do this to anyone? Especially without even saying anything. 

When someone does something you would never do to them!

So l got myself together and pulled a taxi, crying tears of hurt, shame and disappointment. When l got home my Mam was there, thank God, to comfort me. She was so annoyed with me being left alone in town and tried to ring my phone so we could get it back. No one picked up, He literally didn’t care where I was which made me more upset and quickly turned to anger.

Next morning my Mam brought me to get my stuff from his house. TBH, his house was the last place I wanted to go, but yet again NO-ONE answered the phone. When we arrived my Mam was so mad, let’s just say she definitely left her mark, on his face.

Driving home, I was so embarrassed about how my weekend turned out and knowing I had to tell my friends what happened. All I wanted out of that weekend was fun, if I could walk away and at least say I had fun then perfect, but unfortunately I cant say that. What I can say is, I learnt so much from my Foreign d**k. l knew he was taking the piss, I should have just gone with my instincts and told him to f**k off.

Next time….

I will not put up with shit from anyone!

I will not let anyone treat me like I’m second best!

I will not let anyone belittle me to make themselves feel better!

I am beautiful, honest and loyal!

And never mess with my Irish MAMMY!

Until next week

Tinderella

X

“The only way to get over someone is to get under another”

Now I hope you all enjoyed my Essex trip last week because now we are going to go back and revisit my foreign bae. If you don’t know what I’m shitein’ on about that’s because you haven’t read blog 4, which was his glamorous introduction into my random world. So to know the full suss, go read that first. (Assuming you read blog 4) Welcome back! Now let’s get to it, prepare for two more parts to this story because this cracker earned himself a trilogy!

About as close as I’m going to get to Mr. Grey

I wasn’t even texting my foreign cutie for a day and he already planned to come back. He said “We were going to come back anyway but now you are a plus” Ok, that just warmed up my ice cold heart. Now I don’t know why I was even texting this guy because there was a strong chance I could get hurt, but the truth is he was distracting me from realising I was single. Having that “Good morning” and “How was your day?” text made me feel safe again. I couldn’t help feeling…..

Was what I was doing wrong?

Am I setting myself up for failure?

The conversation was flowing like the river liffey, this guy knew how to keep my attention. Every time I thought of him, I would replay the night we met. (Tinderella blog part 4) That alone gave me butterflies. Not only was it the most exciting night out I had since becoming single, but I couldn’t stop picturing the way he looked at me and how we just clicked. I have to admit I was really shit at social flirting and, in fairness, he wasn’t great either, but if he was coming back this texting needed to turn into sexting, and soon or we were heading straight for the friend zone.

Not this time!

Now at this stage we were texting for two weeks and I didn’t even know he was definitely coming over yet, other than his word and he got Thursday to Monday off work. To be honest, that was good enough for me but, if he was coming back, by God was I going to be ready. There was no way I was having a sleepover with a bath this time. Oh no, I was going to be sleeping next to a boy…a cute big dicked boy. Well, I imagined. I pumped myself up for it. If I was going to sleep with anyone, anytime soon it was going to be him. I knew I was going to have to sleep with someone eventually. It might as well be someone I’m attracted to and by the time he visits we would have been talking for eight weeks. Which means it will be a respectful ride.

Me: Telling myself what I wanted to hear.

To be honest I felt I had to get this ride under my belt to thoroughly get over “He-who-shall-not-be-named”. I guess that’s why the saying goes “The only way to get over someone is to get under another”. Well I was ready to test it out, I was also curious to see what other type of dicks were out there. Ah the thought process of a newly single women.

If I sleep with him will I be free from “He-who-shall-not-be-named”?

Will I be good?

Will this fill the empty space? (Not between my legs! Dirty minds…)

Will he know where my clit is?

Are your ears burning babe?

Now there was no way I was having sex for the first time after “He-who-shall-not-be-named” looking like this. (There was nothing wrong with me) Ok, so six weeks to get myself in shape before the big reveal. I decided to come up with a transformation plan.

*Operation sex ready*

-Gym everyday, You can do it!

-Tanning bed every second day, easy!

-Take-aways, it was nice knowing ya!

-healthy eating, skinny bitch here I come!

There I was squatting my life away and actually sticking to my diet. I never had as much strength to get my dream body as I did knowing he would see me naked. I was really worried that he wouldn’t like me. My evil Kermit the frog would sneak in “What if he think’s I’m fat?” I guess having to shop in the adult department as a size sixteen child left me with some complexes. But the truth is, I’ve come a long way since then. I’m, by far, a model. I have a size ten figure and when I sit down I have rolls and that’s fine, nobody is perfect.

Sure look at the confidence of your one!

Eventually we took our texlationship to the next level. A lot of flirty snaps which took us both out of the “friend” zone and straight into the “we’re definitely going to have sex” zone. He was texting me things like “You have me tilted” and “Really looking forward to seeing you” but the one thing that stood out the most was when he went on a stag do. Now I was expecting to not hear from him at all, but our snap streak was still flawless. Then he was on a night out and we were snapping away then I said “Ok, I’ll leave you to your boys, Enjoy. X” and he still kept snapping me the whole night. He then said “Dublin can’t come any faster”.

I don’t care what girl you are, If a guy is out and is talking to you the whole time you’re going to swoon. At this point I thought he was starting to fall for me and he was certainly leading me on. Which made me put my guard up because I didn’t want to fall for him too. Being newly single and not in the mood for being hurt again, I was freaking out. It was hard to not find myself getting feelings for a cutie that said all the right things. As much as I was enjoying talking to him…

I wanted him to f**k off. I did what I do best and put up my shield because I wasn’t about to let myself get attached to someone who wasn’t even living in the same country. So I pulled back, I was doing fine before I met him. I didn’t want him to come to Dublin anymore. I had a take away, a sharing bag of skips and munchies, my mind was made up. I was done. Then he screenshotted me his flight confirmation. “Shit!”

stress….

I was not excited. I felt nothing because I had already built up a wall of not giving a shit. Maybe, I was a little happy but let’s be real at that stage I was too stubborn to know. All feelings aside he was still coming over and I only had two weeks left to go so operation sex ready was back in full swing.

The plan was never clear what was happening. He was renting a house with his friend and said he was only seeing me three of the five days which made me think was I only a booty call. Good luck if he thought that. I was pi**ed off. What is this trip all about? When I calmed down and stopped overthinking I decided I’m just going to go with the flow. I told myself if this weekend is going to be anything it’s going to be fun.

Fast forward to the day he arrived in Dublin (But was not seeing me) I was all pampered out…

-New clothes

-Bikini wax (Killer)

-Eyelashes

-The Jack and Jill

-Hair

I was as smooth as a baby’s ass, sun kissed and as skinny as I was going to get. I literally spent a fortune getting ready for this guy, he bloody well better appreciate it and give me the best sex I ever had. I had no time to think of how his first night in Dublin was going as I was still running around getting ready until finally collapsing on my bed to go asleep. When I check my phone there were three snaps from him.

Snap one: Walking home from the club with his friend.

Snap two: Eating oven pizza with his friend.

Snap three: Him in bed alone. “Can’t wait to see you. Night. X”.

Ok. Now I’m excited!

Until next week

Tinderella

X

“He better not kiss me with that burger in his mouth”

The polls are in. My foreign bae will have to wait until next week because now you are getting an earful of my birthday mental health setback adventure! Now doesn’t that just flow off the tongue?

Five fun-filled days away thanks to my fab Essex babe. You know who you are. The trip was just what the doctor ordered and my friend was just who I needed to spend it with. The whole trip was a conveyer belt of food, chats, dancing, alcohol and food.  What more could a girl want?

Now I know you are all waiting to see if I got the ride, well I’ll stop you all there because as I said before I’m a full on virgin Mary, not to mention I never have enough Dutch courage to go through with the act in the first place. But the main reason why I didn’t succeed in getting the D is because ever since I became single I have been going through this weird phase called “push every boy that comes up to me away in fear of getting hurt”. Ultimately I’m my own cock blocker.

I must have subconsciously turned it on. The problem is I was never given the instruction booklet to my human so I couldn’t turn it off. This frustration made me think…

What is the point of me walking around in a human I can’t control?

Why do I still have a wall up?

When will it come down?

Will it ruin my chances of finding someone?

So this is how my trip went while carrying around this unwanted baggage.

#NightOne. This being an unplanned night out due to the fact we just came from a show and made no effort in our appearance because we planned to have a nice aul’ catch up. Famous last words. Instead we found ourselves being lured into the cheesiest club Essex had to offer because, let’s be real, I love a bit of cheese me. There I was, busting through the double doors absolutely buzzing. Straight to the dance floor, no drink needed. If I had a euro for every time I did a slut drop I would be a millionaire.

Me: The slut drop queen

The boys were all eyes as if they knew I was a foreigner. Irish people must have a certain smell that gives them away. Like potatoes, and God knows I’m a fan of me potatoes. It didn’t take long for the boys to make their move and I say boys because there were a few, But of course I’m only going to talk about the ones that left an impression.

#BoyOne.

“Hey”

“Hey”

“Are you Irish?”

“Yeah are you English?”

“Yeah obviously”

“Well you could have been on Holiday too.”

Me: Having no conversation skills.

That was just a taste of how awful all my boy/girl interactions went. This guy was your stereotypical Essex babe. He knew he was the shit and he could get anyone. I was by myself and I could see him checking me out for a while before he came over. He was actually fab and I could picture myself attached to his face until he put his hand on my shoulder, leaned in and said “Don’t get the wrong impression, I’m not chatting you up. I’m just being friendly.” Alright love if you have to say you’re being friendly that means you’re not. While laughing at what he said thinking he could possibly be joking he said “I was just keeping you company until your friend came back”. I’m sorry but I didn’t understand what the point was in coming over to “keep me company” with no intentions. I felt he was just being a dick and I had no time for that. To which I replied “Well you can f**k off then because she’s back now”

#BoyTwo. I was just dancing away, minding my own business then I got rudely interrupted by this guy who thought he owned me and starts flinging me around the dance floor like we were in a scene from “Dirty Dancing”. Like, I’ll give it to him, he had moves so I was playing along until he started repeatedly running his fingers through my hair. Like NO!! Get your hands out of my hair. He then stopped mid dance to ask me a question. “Your hands are very rough, what do you do for a living?” He definitely knew what women like to hear. I replied “I build houses for refugees” and he actually believed me, but then it got worse. For some reason he kept trying to maneuver me so his knee was in between my legs like he was trying to turn me on or something.

I had no time for him after he turned around and gave me the lovely compliment “You have an average set of tits” just out of nowhere. Well I’m sorry I’m not a glamour model love, but I’m happy with my dress boobs. Was this guy for real? It seemed he was trying his best to put me down, unless he was just a full on dope. Like no thank you. Your Ma would be proud. Maybe these Essex girls fall for those back handed compliments but this Irish lass was having none of it. It just wasn’t going to happen, not with him, not now, not ever!

#NightTwo. This night on the other hand was one hundred percent planned and the makeup was going on and the tits were coming out. (As in a low neck top, jeez) We headed straight for club cheese because if it’s not broken don’t fix it. There I was, feeling confident and looking well, bursting through the double doors like I owned the place because it was my second time there.

Towards the end of the night the “Cha Cha Slide” came on and I was in my element. While knowing every word and move off by heart I was giving it my all as if my life itself depended on it. Which brings us to…

#BoyThree. There I was, getting eyed up by an absolute cutie. I made the choice there in my head, yes, he is the one. Then I vocally said to my friend see him in the grey “I want him” as if she had magic powers to make it happen. He ended up coming up to me and we started dancing which he mimicked. That didn’t bother me because I was confident in my dance moves and thought he was being cute. He then asked me to go outside. I replied “for a bit of coke or heroin?” Which thankfully got no reaction. Me never before been asked to go outside ran to my friend and asked her what happens outside? 

Would you be able for me?

As I set on the window ledge outside the club I was clearly looking nervous because boy number three said “You don’t do this much do you?” silence “Did you ask if I have any heroin?” and there I was thinking I got away with that. He then asked for my number for reasons I will never know. I either typed it in wrong or he had a change of heart because I never heard from him. Or maybe he just thought I wasn’t into him because as soon as I gave him back his phone I jumped up and ran back into the club screaming “I love this song”. Before leaving the club he came over and said he was going to a different place and asked if I wanted to go with him. I told him I was staying with my friend which he probably took as “not interested” so boy number three, if you’re reading this, now you know I wanted your sweet ass.

Call me

Fast forward to fast food at McDonald’s (surprise surprise). Now being the only McDonald’s in the town there was nothing fast about it. The queues were huge. Now when I say queues, I mean a mosh pit of drunk people trampling on each other just to get into the place. For some reason they refuse to let you sit down hence why there is people all over the street. Once in there I came across…

#BoyFour. Chatting away in the never ending queue about anything and everything. He seemed cute, as in two years younger than me cute. Which I was not fussed about. When we finally got our food, we went outside and he told us how his friends left him and he’s alone and can’t afford a taxi by himself…blah blah blah. Then he wanted to know what I was doing and where I’m staying which of course was my friend’s. My exact words were “We’re going home to eat naked in bed” to which he replied “I’ll join you” while chomping away on his burger. He was a full on chancer, but then all of a sudden his friends appeared. He then attempted to be smooth and go in for a cheeky kiss.

There was just this awkward second of him thinking “I can’t kiss her with this burger in my mouth” and me thinking “He better not kiss me with that burger in his mouth”. While I could see his thought process he eventually plopped a sloppy one on my cheek. Only chuffed with himself he ran off thinking he was Romeo and I was left with a cheek smelling of burger. Lovely.

#NightThree. Halloween night, I was dolled up from head to toe in my costume. There was absolutely no holding back as this was the big night. Birthday celebrations were going to be sealed with a birthday kiss, maybe even #BoyThree could reappear. Was I successful? I was in my arse. I was kissing no one that night unless I wanted to be done for paedophilia. Everyone was about twelve. At one point a guy came over and asked me to kiss his friend. “Who asks people to kiss their friends anymore? How old are you?” He was nineteen, NINETEEN! Now, two years younger I will do but this was taking the piss. I was feeling very old at that stage and the music was making me feel even older so I decided to call it a night. On the way home I was feeling defeated.

Am I old now?

Do I still have it?

How can people dance to music with no words?

How do you get a boy to kiss you?

What is wrong with me?

But of course my friend soon snapped me out of that. I guess that was just the “change” talking. If I was still in a relationship I wouldn’t have to ask these questions. I would be at a different stage in my life asking different questions. I guess it’s hard to not think of how I felt before I was no one’s.

Me: Typical

On the plane home reflecting on how much fun my trip was and finally accepting I didn’t get the wear, what happens? A man gets up and proposes to his three month pregnant girlfriend. In all the planes in all the sky your man has to propose on my one. Well rub it in why don’t you?! #ForeverAlone.

Until next week.

Tinderella

X

The reality of my one night stand was nothing like the fantasy in my head.

OK, so your probably all expecting to see how I got on in my trip, but before I get into those juicy details I’m going to take you back a bit. Let me just go ahead and fill you all in on the goss #scenechange. In other words, one drunken unplanned evening in Copper’s but at this stage I was on the straight water. I know, the fact I was in Copper’s without alcohol in my hand makes me a strange breed of woman. (We do exist if you look hard enough) There I was, dancing away with my bestie, getting approached by the biggest creeps Ireland had to offer.

First of all.

What on earth goes through a guy’s head in a club?

Does he think grinding his sweaty body, on mine from behind, is what I want?

Does he actually think it’s acceptable to come over and slobber drunken words at me?

No, Shakespeare, f**k off! Now, I was having none of it. I was only there to dance (unless approached by an absolute babe which, in that case, I would drop the diva act!). Having said that, I don’t care how drunk you are, if a sweaty drunken man comes over in an attempt to get some you would be like, “ah here”, and move on. Why is it, always the creepy ones, that have no fear? Is that just me or am I creep magnet?

Rewind to me getting ready to go out…

Pictured: Me having a meltdown.

I was not feeling confident at all. I was feeling bloated and lumpy. I had nothing to wear and I just felt rotten, next to the other girls. Now I know I’m not alone on this one. I’m sure the majority of girls, go through the same body image break down. It’s normal. Looking back on photos now, someone should have slapped me across the face.

I looked stunning and the proof was in the pudding, when an absolute quirky babe from who cares, approached me. Jackpot! His opening line was “What time does this place close at?” Sorry we’re in Copper’s love you will have to speak up. I just couldn’t for the life of me make out what he was saying. At one point I thought he was talking about my boobs because I wasn’t wearing a bra, that’s how much I didn’t understand him. Then I was screaming “what?!” into his ear while laughing and cupping my boobs. (Clearly at this stage I had no idea he wasn’t Irish)

After a series of attempts for the poor guy to chat me up, with his failed one liner. I finally gave him an answer, while checking my watch, I wasn’t wearing, because I don’t even own a watch. Hopefully he didn’t notice. Surprisingly, none of my behavior scared him off, which I wasn’t complaining about. Once I realized (After easily ten minutes) he was not from Ireland I was sold. I don’t know why, but I couldn’t stop laughing, while talking to this guy, but by God if you could have a conversation through laughter we nailed it.

He seemed very similar to me. Silly, quirky, possibly sober. Not to mention he was a full on cutie, with a smile that melted me from the waist down. Yes, I kissed him. I even slapped his bum and twisted his nipples, which he returned the favor, because that’s how weirdly comfortable we became throughout the night. Writing it now I’m cringing.

When Copper’s ended we moved to the residents’ bar as we weren’t quite finished with each other just yet. Now don’t worry, I didn’t abandon my friend. I would never in a million years drop my girls for a boy on a night out. If you go out together, you go home together. It’s just girl code. Just so happens my foreign Hun had a foreign Hun friend and we were all happy out.

He then offered to buy me a drink which I replied “Water” at this point he was head over heels with awe, of the fact that this was me practically sober. After lots of kissing and the odd face lick thrown in with flirty banter. (If you could call whatever I was doing flirting) we seemed to be hitting it off. The other two were coming across like they were on a job interview, but they were taking one for the team because, we were morphing into one.

When two become one.

We then took the after party to McDonald’s because who can be expected to go to sleep on an empty stomach? Definitely not this girl! It was so early they started serving breakfast, which he paid for. This guy knew how to pull me in the right direction. As we stuffed our faces in McDonald’s, and in the shit lighting he was still doing it for me and that wasn’t just the burger talking.

My friend and I then legged it up to the bathroom like little school girls. Apparently she was feeling her Hun to and told me she was going off with him. On my return my Mac foreign sandwich asked me back to chill in his Hotel room. Stopppp. My heart was going ninety. Not only was I not prepared for any sort of sexual encounter, I also would have no idea what to do with a dick if it slapped me in the face.

Is that good for you?

It has been that long since someone made sweet love to me. At that moment I was like f**k, I can’t even remember the last time I got the feels. Like down there. I agreed to go. I was newly single and what better way to pop my bad girl cherry. Off we went on the never ending walk to his Hotel. “Like is this place in Dublin or what? My feet are going to give in”. Me and bae were having the best chats ever but by the time I got to his Hotel I should have been in the Guinness book of records, for cross country walk in six inch heels. At this stage I was jumping into his bed just to get off my feet.

Me: Not having a clue what is going on.

While sitting in his bed, he stripped down to his boxers, while brushing his teeth, with his electrical toothbrush, like He was the shit. Alright love don’t leave anything to the imagination. I was shitting it and feeling not ready for whatever this was. Not to mention I had the confidence of a frog, but I wasn’t going to let him see that. Mam said always fake it till you make it and wasn’t, I faking the shit out of it. Millions of thoughts went through my head……

What the f**k am I doing here?

What if I gave him the wrong impression by coming here?

Will he just be happy with cuddles?

Should I just do it?

Does this make me a slut now?

There I was, parking the car firmly in second base. Keeping it simple with kisses and cuddles. OK, things just got awkward. I suddenly wasn’t feeling the whole situation anymore . Now I’m not a prude, well maybe a little bit, but you have to remember, I was one hundred percent sober and the whole lying down thing with his tongue stuck down my throat was catching up to my chest infection and I started to have a cough attack that wasn’t f***ing off.

Me: Setting up camp

Not wanting to be a mood kill, I sneaked away to set up camp in the bathroom, where I could cough in peace and sleep in silence. Win/win. You would be surprised how comfortable sitting up against a bath would be. All I needed was a blanket, as being sober left me feeling the cold, but I dozed off anyway through the relief of not coughing.

All of a sudden I felt the door pushing up against my feet, they were jamming it shut and being the best form of contraception that I could find. It was my foreign Hun “Ah howiya, i said with a red face. Sooo?” awkward silence and i was left speechless.

(Cue cough attack part two) I ended up doing a hit and run, as I just couldn’t stop coughing. Between the walking around town without a jacket and sleeping against a cold bath, must have caught up to me. I then did the ultimate walk of shame past the reception.

The same reception people giving me cheeky smiles two hours previous. At this stage I even felt the shame, though the only thing I pulled was a bathtub. I was walking like Bambi, From stepping back into those stupid killer heels.

As I jumped into the taxi I kept laughing as the reality of my one night stand was nothing like the fantasy in my head. Like “What just happened?” After I reassured  myself “Don’t worry you can’t get pregnant from the next room.” I laughed it off and felt I was a full on mad bitch strolling home at nine in the clothes from the night before. 

I would be here all day, giving you every single detail. Let’s fast forward. My foreign Hun got in touch, (Yeah I know, Can’t believe it.) through the Facebook and wanted to meet up before he headed off. (On a jet plane don’t know when I’ll be back again) we went to Eddie Rockets. We still hit it off with no awkwardness involved, and not a patch of night out glam on me. Then he asked me to go the airport and we held hands and kissed the whole way. As I kissed him multiple times goodbye and got a cheeky selfie. He then asked for my number. Everything seemed natural and fun. This was then the beginning of my pen pal relationship with an Foreign Hun and a life lesson in the making for me.

Until Then.

Tinderella

X

After me coming up with the best plan ever for my own well being, I get the ultimate setback!

Happy birthday to me, happy birthday to me. Although it’s my birthday, you still got a blog out of me. Well amn’t I only lovely? *Pause for admiration* Thanks. I try. So now that you had time to digest the random events that took place in my blog last week, I’m going to take you in a different direction this week. There is more to this cream puff than just filling you in on how much of a slut that I am…NOT! Lads, I’m a full-on Virgin Mary but when I turn over to the dark side I’ll fill you in.

Now, for any latecomers I’m just newly single. Yes, you heard me, not newlywed, newly single *sheds a tear* but no, I’m actually starting to get the hang of the whole being on your own thing. Like, it’s not a look I would have went for but amn’t I only delighted I got no choice but to try it on now.  

Me: Occasionally loving life

I’ve been on the scene the last few months and by Jesus have I been on a see-saw of emotions. Now I’ve been on the heavier side more than I can keep up with. Purely because it’s still closer to the end then the beginning but I’m going up more every day. Now, this being my first birthday being single, I didn’t take to it very well. The absolute fear of getting older always took over but now, on top of that, the fear of change was kicking in. Like, where do I get my birthday sex now? #VirginMary. Once I reminded myself he never knew where the clit was anyway I soon snapped out of that. For me, it was more the change of not having that one person that had always been there, and that killed me. So I did what I do best and avoided the whole situation. To keep myself from turning into a crazy woman when that full moon hit on all Hallow’s Eve, I gave myself a practical pep talk.

“Yeah, you want change, oh I’ll give you change, I’ll give you change real good. You’re going to celebrate your birthday in a different country because you’re a mad bitch and you definitely won’t bump into ex bae there…genius.”

So that was that. Before I even had time to finish my pep talk I was checked in for a trip to Essex.

Pictured: Me legging it to the airport

Grand. Now, I know you’re thinking “why Essex?” well I’m not all crazy. *Thunder goes off in the background of my uncontrollable laughter* I have a babe of a friend there that agreed to take me in with open arms because that’s what friends do when you need them. All hail Caesar! I figured I was already feeling shit from the change that if I mixed up my birthday this year I wouldn’t notice it as bad. I was like, if this is what I’m like for my birthday… well good f***ing luck to me at Christmas.

The plan was solid, no turning back now. Essex come at me! After me coming up with the best plan ever for my own well being, I get the ultimate setback! Give me strength. Just when I was starting to get myself back together. I was going about my day laughing my head off without a care in the world and my phone went off. Now I was in work at the time about to do a talk and I couldn’t help myself but have a cheeky look at my phone. I had to see who it was being a nosey bitch and all. Well if my heart didn’t only sink out my arse. Wasn’t it only “He-that-shall-not-be-named”

What the flipping flop did he want? I haven’t heard from him in five months like. So, as much as I wanted to read it, I was shitting myself with the thought of what he could say. Would it be what I’ve wanted to hear?

“Hey babe, I’ve been thinking about you a lot, would you like to meet up and have a chat? I miss you. X”.

Or would it be something stupid like…

“Hey ******, A letter came for you in the post will I send it on”.

UGHHHHHHH GOD DAMNIT, I HATE WHEN HE CALLS ME BY MY NAME!

Whatever he had to say, it wasn’t going to have a good outcome. Outcome one, I would have ended up with a choice to see him again or, Outcome two, The realisation it’s really over and his decision is still final.

I secretly wanted that “I’ve made a mistake” text. Any girl who says different, they’re lying to your face. Now I know you are all probably thinking. No! What are you saying? You’re better off…blah blah blah. Heard it all way too many times but will I listen? NO! The truth is, if he wanted to meet, I would go. I wouldn’t go to get back with him because I do know I deserve better which I have already proved. Not to mention I’d be a full on thick to go back there after the way he ended it. If I was to meet up with him it would be to get closure. I deserve it after how easy it was for him to cut me out.

Whether he would give it to me or not, I had to go and see. Unfortunately I knew him, so I was preparing myself for disappointment. My face turned expressionless and the colour of “Casper the Friendly Ghost” which, once I saw that text, would become “Casper the Emotionally Unstable Ghost”.

Seems about right

I can count on one hand the amount of words I said in that talk. I was so out of the loop and I was angry I let him affect me to the point of being speechless which, if you knew me, doesn’t happen. He’s not even in my life and seeing his stupid name paralyses me.  

I was as helpless as Harry Potter when he seen bae

Fast forward to me reading it in my car. This lad has some cheek. Are you ready to see why he texted me? I don’t think you are. Ok, here is the exact message word for word.

“Hey *****, I know I’m not supposed to get in touch with you and this is kinda breaking the rules but it’s a bit of an emergency. I can’t find my passport and the last place I remember having it was in my bedside locker. I was wondering if you might have taken it by accident with the lockers. Aside from that I hope you’re keeping well over the past months”.

There you have it. He only texted to set me back a week before my “big change” for his own self gain. *Claps hands* Great show babe! Did you have popcorn while sending that off? You had me at “Hey” and lost me at “passport”. I was left feeling empty. That’s the first thing he says to me after all this time. Did he not think for one second that me seeing his name in the first place would give me a heart attack? How absolutely stupid can this guy that I used to call my lover be. First of all…

“Why would I have your stupid passport?”

“If I did take it what makes you think I would have kept it as a keepsake?”

“Are you calling me a robber?”

“What rules are you even talking about?”

“Do you even care if I’m doing well?”

Ma, Da step back and prepare as your tornado of a daughter is coming home so do not even make eye contact if you want to live.

It’s gas how something so small could have such a big effect. I was gone for two days just moping around and breaking down crying at random. You know when you start to question everything? What if that was just his way to start a conversation? But I will never know because I did not text back. I know right. After me not texting back he wrote again just to rub the salt in the wound.

“Hey forget about it I know you didn’t take it. I’m sure I’ll find it somewhere.” 

ALRIGHT…thanks for letting me know, pal, I’m just going to play Lady Gaga’s “Perfect Illusion” on loop now. At this stage that trip could not come any faster. Get me on that plane and put a vodka in my hand.

Me: Being newly single abroad

One thing I can say I’m proud of myself for is I never once called or texted him, drunk or sober. I haven’t looked up his Facebook or twitter page, even though they‘re a finger click away. I never begged for him back and I most certainly didn’t call over to our *cough* his house to play pranks. (Even though I still have the keys). In that sense, I can say I’m one strong, independent woman in charge…and one stubborn-ass Scorpio!

Until next Monday,

Tinderella

X

I was meeting him at Stephen’s green because I couldn’t possibly be murdered there.

Now we all know the drill, I was dumped after five years out of the blew blah-blah-blah it’s all in the first blog. So you can only imagine how absolutely shitting it I was to go on the first of first dates. For me, there was nothing more nerve-wracking than going on a first date after being off the scene for five years. The dating scene most defiantly evolved, sure amn’t I only talking to lads I don’t even know exist yet. I’m a blank canvas starting from scratch. Everything I used to know about “He-who-shall-not-be-named”, what he liked, sense of humour, where his tiddles were had to all be put in a box and buried. If only it was that easy then I still occasionally wouldn’t have a break down. But nonetheless, I am getting more and more emotionally stable, said my shrink…jokes. There I was, going about my day with random outbursts of nervous laughter every time I thought of what I was about to do.

Slowly morphing my way into Harley Quinn’s persona.

People must’ve thought I broke out of an asylum. It’s just a few drinks calm the fuck like. Fast-forward to me getting ready. Good luck. Shaving all the hidden places (for the craic), hair failure, eye flick disaster, outfit fab but by the time I got to him I had such serious sweat patches that there was no way my jacket was coming off for any man. I was meeting him at Stephen’s green because I couldn’t possibly be murdered there. My mind was on overload.

“What if they don’t look like their picture?”

“I probably shouldn’t have worn heels”

“Will this be the end?”

“What if I’m not feeling it?”

These were just a few of many personality disordered thoughts that went through my head. As I came to Stephen’s Green to meet my tall, dark and handsome babe I could see him from a far and I was like “Shit.. I can’t do this. Abort abort!” But then we made eye contact and that was that.

F**k

As I towered over him while going in for a hug I knew this wasn’t going to work. 5’10’’ my arse that was clearly a lie. He was more like 5’6’’ and that was me being nice. That, my friend, is strike one. Me playing along but secretly NOT impressed we went to Sinnott’s. As I walked down the stairs bopping to “Wannabe” by the spice girls I made the decision to let myself go and just have fun. I was already dressed might as well make the most of it…and he was paying.

There he was feeding me cocktail after cocktail hoping he’d eventually be feeding me his cock-tail. The chap wouldn’t let me buy one drink, which I wasn’t complaining about, so I kept knocking them back. Keep in mind I’m a lightweight. (Turns out later so was he) Then He went in for a kiss. Seeing as I was already locked, all my rules went out the window and we were both sitting down so I forgot how short he was. Through my beer goggles your man was looking a bit alri until he said he was going out for a smoke (don don don!). I didn’t have to be sober to know that was strike two. Off he went which I thought was the perfect time to go the lady’s room and found myself on the dance floor triggering my inner Beyoncé.

Dancing away with a random group of girls like I knew them my whole life filling them all in about my date. Which reminded me I should get back to. When I got back to our table he did not look happy. Which then followed by the bouncer coming over to kick us out. Now hang on a minute, we’re not going anywhere, we didn’t do anything. Then my date was telling me to come on let’s just go. Now me knowing my drunken rights and having Dutch courage demanded to know why we have to leave. So Long story short “The Hobbit” got sick in the club on the bar. Stoppppp. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry I was mortified. So as we left the club he was ranting drunken apologies at me like I gave a shit because let’s face it this was most defiantly strike three and there is no coming back from a strike three. Now, how to get rid of him…?

“Look I’m not feeling this it was a really bad first impression and I’m just looking for some fun I don’t need all this getting kicked out of clubs business so It’s not going to work”

Did he get the hint? No. He followed me all the way down Grafton street talking to a girl that had already put her foot down. Like no, it’s over.

Now this is where things got random but this actually happened. I wasn’t on drugs (pinky promise). While Walking through the street of drunken people my ears picked up on beautiful music from a B-E-A-utiful busker. As I was listening to him play, your man was still in my ear. After showing I’m a devoted fan and clearly building trust with sexy busker guy he asked me to keep an eye on his guitar so being as drunk as I was didn’t I just start busking myself?! (Now I used to play and lost it when I got in my relationship so this was the first time playing in years) The feeling of freedom was magical I felt like a bit of me came back in that playing. “The Hobbit” Was emptying his pockets into the guitar case. Will he ever learn? After only what could be called a “magnificent” performance, to my ears anyway, my so called date was telling me to come on we’re going. Like who are you again? Please leave me alone to be a rock star. I eventually had to leave sexy busker guy to stop the ultimate married couples tiff from continuing. I was heading straight for Mcdonald’s to go toilet before I made my great escape. When I came back down not only did I have three missed calls from him I also had food. I was full on mixed signals about this guy. One thing for sure he was a stage five clinger. Not wanting to be rude I ate in silence and blocked him out because food was love.

Me: being politely rude

At this stage I’ve never wanted to get a taxi so much in my life. As I was getting in the taxi I could taste freedom. He then thought it was ok to throw a tenner at me and shout I’ll text you tomorrow banging on the window as the taxi drove off. What am I, a prostitute? And no, you’re getting blocked love. To finish off the night I had a good aul’ emotional cry with the taxi man about where I am in my life. Might as well get my money’s worth. It was an awful teaser of what I was getting myself into. It left me thinking…

Are all men like this?

Did I used to have a good thing?

Is there hope for me yet?

Am I ready for this shit?

Should I just give my ex a call?

Surely they can’t get any worse than this…

P.S. Calm down I never made that call.

Until next Monday

Tinderella

X

To say I knew what to expect was me lying through my teeth…

There I was thinking life was grand, I was happy. I was settled. I found the one, but turned out He wasn’t happy. He wasn’t settled. I was not the one.

So there I was in my burst little bubble, left to swim in pointless memories that don’t seem real now. Was I going crazy? Did all this actually happen? My life ended in one moment of bleak actions and there was nothing I could do about it.

For me there was nothing worse than turning to Tinder to find Mr. Right, after being in a five year relationship. To say I knew what to expect, was me lying through my teeth. It was a pick’n’mix of boys…very unpredictable boys. That moment when you realise…this is your life now…congratulations.

I have to admit, I never thought in a million years I would be on Tinder, the thought of it just seemed like such a culture shock, as I thought I had already met the one, but that fantasy soon slapped me in the face when he dumped me out of the blue. Now no break up is easy and I’d be lying if I said it was a piece of cake to get over “He-who-shall-not-be-named” (Yes I went there) but the truth is…when do you know? Am I already there or will I wake up one day and just feel different? Well there was only one way to find out!

Two weeks back home sleeping on Mam and Dad’s couch. Snotting and crying my head off like a banshee, there was just no talking to me. The feeling of emptiness took over like as if he died, but he was still out there living his life and I was head deep at stage one of mourning.

    Pictured: Me…pretty much

Like give me a break. Did I ever hear from him or see him again? No. All I can say is  good f***ing luck to ya “Pal”.

After a few weeks of looking like Samara I said enough is enough!

“He’s not moping around over you so you don’t mope over him”.                  

In other words…

“He’s never coming back and you’re not letting him, so cop on!”

So there I was on a Wednesday evening staring my phone in it’s cracked face…to Tinder or not to Tinder? That is the question. The absolute shock of only having six photos to get my good side across, sure I have more personalities than that, But I played along. Then came the bio, If I play it cool I’ll attract all the cool kids and suddenly I felt like I was back in school looking at all the cliques I didn’t make the cut for. Not to mention, I am way under qualified to pull off cool in “real life” I decided to be my old-fashioned self. That was that, I was on Tinder now I just have to sit back and swipe and I’ll be married soon. GRAND.

        Waiting Patiently….

No!! I was swiping like a woman on a mission to find someone I could look at, never mind picture myself attached to their face. After serial swiping and the symptoms of arthritis kicking in, I managed to get some matches. Now I just had to wait for them to text…or so I thought. Even on social media these boys weren’t stepping up. What is life? I was making the first move, absolutely scarlet for me, couldn’t even think of anything remotely decent to say other than Hey. Unsurprisingly no reply. My first taste of online rejection under my belt #winning.

I decided to go for round two.

*Ding Ding*

I thought I’d be a bit more adventurous with my second attempt…

“Hey, you’re my first match. #YouAreTheChosenOne”.

You are the chosen one? Well you are killing it tonight, literally killing all your chances of ever talking to the opposite sex ever again. Good night and God bless, but then contestant number three stepped up to the table with

“Hey, You’re a pocket rocket…”

Now I see why I never got a reply. Long story short I bagged myself a first date. Success ratio: one out of three! I can live with that.

I went through a roller coaster of emotion when I said yes.

Happiness – Someone is into me.

Sadness – My ex will soon be forgotten

Nervous – I had no idea how to date

Guilt – I felt like I was cheating

Emptiness – I wanted to feel again.

I asked myself the question, am I ready? And my answer was I don’t know, but is anyone ever ready for anything? If you wait till you’re ready you never will be and all I knew was I was ready to start building myself back up from the ground and sitting in eating a sharing bag of skips and munchies, surrounded by my own snotty tissues was not how I was going to do it, And this is how it all started.

BIO – Hey I’m just new to the scene not looking for anything serious as I’m already serious with food. Natural blonde guaranteed kiss on the first date…not!

Catch me every Monday for all things #Singlehood.

Tinderella X