Not bothered with my assignment

I should really be doing one of my many assignments, but I could not be bothered. I've been working on it non-stop for the past three hours and I can't take a proper break until 8, so I figured I'd kill time between now and then by writing about whatever the hell pops into my head here.



Let's see... Yesterday was quite an awesome day. Saz and I distributed the paper in the lashing rain, but it was worth it because we met some of the most down to earth, friendly, nice, genuine Dubliners that I have ever had the pleasure of meeting. One man, who runs the local fruit and veg shop, even gave us a load of free grapes because we were so famished and exhausted by the time we got to him. It was a simple, genuine act of kindness and it's something that I, unfortunately, haven't experienced in as long as I can remember. For a complete stranger to want to do something nice for me, selflessly and for no reason other than to do so, is just amazing to me. It was so touching, and I had a big smile on my face for the rest of the day, even though I was exhausted and dragging poor Saz along because she can't really keep up with the speed I generally walk at... I took her for a massive lunch though, afterwards, because my grant money finally came through and I felt in the mood to be generous. The food was slightly too weird for her, but we were full and happy by the end of the meal.



After she went home, I shopped by myself for a couple of hours, which is something I wouldn't have had the courage to do a year ago, but now is a bit of a treat for me. I was buzzing with the atmosphere of the city, which is infectious even though I fucking hate Christmas (it's going to be even worse this year, because I have to split my time between my mother and father, but hopefully there will be lots and lots of vodka to numb me). I ended up spending more money than I intended, but I didn't care because I bought clothes that I absolutely fell in love with, that I know I'll wear again and again. Besides, I haven't had money to spend in what seems like forever, because a huge chunk of what I make has to be put aside for my hair (and another large amount goes towards my highly active social life). I did feel kind of bad though, given that it's so close to Christmas, but I know I'm going to spend way more on presents for the people I love anyway.



That night, my bud Noodles came over with two bottles of Merlot, a share size Galaxy bar and a bag of jelly penguins who we delighted in beheading and swallowing whole. We got slightly drunk and watched two of my favourite films of all time (neither of which he had seen before), Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back and Superbad. Naturally, we were in stitches at about 2AM and had a decent enough chat before I fell into a short-lived slumber (he woke me up at 6AM to open the window). I had some mad dreams about a variety of people, including another one of my guy friends who I can't decide whether I fancy or not. I see him all the time, and we tend to rip the piss out of each other a lot (which I love), and he's quite handsome in a sort of a Dylan Moran/that Irish lad from the IT Crowd kinda way, but I still don't know whether or not I'd want to kiss him or fuck him or whatever. There was a moment last Tuesday, when I was exhausted and weeping silently after staring at a computer screen for four hours and also being totally stressed, when he hugged me and held me close and told me it was going to be okay, that I was doing a great job, etc. I felt so safe and loved, but that really terrified me and I pulled away before anything happened. The terror gripped me, like it does with everyone when one knows that a kiss is imminent, but we were interrupted and nothing actually happened. I sort of ran off after that, and consequently spent the rest of the week thinking about what it would be like to kiss him. It's not like I want a relationship, or need one for that matter, but I do miss the feeling of kissing someone I really like (and all of the other stuff that comes with it). When I was only newly single, this chick told me that, in order to survive, I would have to learn to sleep with someone, cuddle that person or whatever I needed afterwards and then make sure to get rid of him/her in the morning and never see him/her again. In her head, that is what being single is all about, but in mine it's not. I have hooked up with random people over the past few months, not to mention the fact that I'm still seeing the chick I really, really like, but that random stuff doesn't really do it for me in the long run. In the end, isn't having a fuck buddy who is a friend, who one trusts and fancies but doesn't necessarily want to date, better than sleeping around and refusing to feel anything? After all, the one guy who took me out properly this summer turned out to not be half the man he proposed to be (not a bad guy overall, just not the nicest either). My one regret of the entire summer, or year for that matter, is not kissing the one guy I actually had a connection with. Having said that, he's a damn good friend and it's not as if things are weird between us or anything. I just keep going back to that night, and it terrifies me because I start to wonder whether I would go for it with someone I liked, or if I'm too scared.



I don't know where that all came from. One of these days, I'm going to stop being such a little shit and actually admit to having proper, genuine feelings for someone. But until that time, there are lots of hot men and women in this city that I am only too happy to kiss on the dancefloor of some random bar, intoxicated or otherwise, until I finally find the one who gives me butterflies.



Song of the day: Radiohead - No Surprises