The Big 5-0

And that’s not the number of men I’ve slept with. It now marks the amount of blog posts I have written. That in itself is blog-worth enough I feel. I’m going to be lazy and just cut and paste the latest article I wrote for a student newspaper because I’m halfway through a bottle of wine and half an hour from going out so I simply lack the time to elaborate on what is to follow, but trust me, I will. The full story is quite amazing and includes a lot more than a cheeky shag. Remember the Twitter update about my night with the Rugby player? (Note: new** rugby player, NOT Rugby Blue) No? Then you can fuck right off. I jest. I have more followers on Twitter than I do on the blog, so I naturally assume all those following the blog follow my Twitter, but that could be a very inaccurate assumption. 
 
 
The 50th post also celebrates 50 posts worth of anonymity, and hopefully 50 more. I won’t be in uni forever, and I’m not quite sure where this is going after I graduate. Sex in London? How very typical. For now though, I have people arriving at mine soon so I’ve got to get to the point. Grey is out of the picture and New Rugby is in the picture. He’s also fitter. And a lot better in bed. Overall win. 
 
 
Here is my weekly column from this week’s Cambridge Student newspaper (well, the important bits): 
 
 
— 
 
 
 
 

Have you ever woken up having sex? I have. In fact I did just the other day. Not in a surprise attack kind of way, but in a we fell asleep naked and spooning post-coital and started going for round two before our minds could catch onto what was going on kind of way. I can think of worse ways to wake up. ‘Having sex’ is an overstatement, as we woke up before it got to the main act. Groggily putting a condom on took longer than usual. I can barely figure out how to turn my alarm off when I’m half asleep so kudos to my partner for doing it relatively quickly in that respect. Nothing like sex to get you up and going in the morning though. Unfortunately for us I think it must have been around three am. 

How did we get to this marathon sex session? Well, this gentleman friend and I were sat together at formal hall that evening. Maybe it was my built up excitement over the release of Harry Potter, but the robe was doing it for me that night. After dinner we migrated to the JCR with everyone else to have more scintillating conversation before excusing ourselves to go to his room. I’m not sure exactly what our reasoning was for this, but we sat listening to BBC radio and chatting for some time. In this situation I’m still unsure how long you should go about with the facade of wanting to talk before you get down to business. It took about an hour and a half before we were horizontal and kissing. 

Why is it that men are so eager to get naked? I was lying there, completely dressed – high heels and all – and he was down to his pants. I don’t even remember him taking his clothes off. Was he naked under that robe? That would have been kind of hot, but I know this wasn’t the case. Having been on the bottom it was difficult for me to get out of my clothes, so I stood up and undressed to my bra and underwear. I don’t know why I ever bother leaving my bra on since a boy will immediately take it off given the opportunity. The radio played in the background, which was nice because I like to have a soundtrack going when in bed. The sex was pretty amazing, hence sticking around for part two in the wee hours of the morning.    

What does this have to do with you? Nothing and everything. It’s cold, you want to stay inside, I get it. But if I can pull in a down jacket that makes me look like the Michelin man, and he can get me alone in his room wearing a robe that kind of looks like a dress, then so can you. So layer up, get your arse to whatever holiday celebrations are offering free alcohol around the university between now and the end of term, and spread some holiday cheer. 

In case the above wasn’t euphemistically clear enough, I’ll leave you with one final piece of wisdom before you head into the winter weeks with your family: get some action before you’re confined at home and amongst relatives. There is rhyme and reason to the above story, which is this: do as I say and as I do. It will provide some much needed stress release before the holiday madness, and who knows? It could be the precursor for some great ‘welcome back’ sex in the New Year. 

— 

More to come. 

Something else important for the 50th:  

Happy Holidays! Be back soon xxxxx 

Break Up Sex

I walked out of the library and as I made my way towards my bike I had my head down, deep in thought. It had been a couple days since the Tiger and I felt as if I had finally sobered up after that massive night out. There was a Halloween party being thrown that night and I contemplated whether or not to go. It was at a friend’s house and there was a 50-50 chance Grey would be there. Plus, I still had no costume. As I contemplated my weekend plans I noticed a bicycle riding towards me in my periphery. I looked up as it became clear that it was coming directly at me just as it came to a halt, inches from my feet. 

“Alright?” 

“Hello,” I said, slightly taken aback. It had been almost ten days since I’d seen Grey and it was almost as if I’d forgotten what he looked like. “I didn’t recognise you.” 

“Oh, cheers,” he teased. 

“I don’t know, you just look different.” 

“Good different?” 

“Um, yah.” I said, a bit too enthusiastically. I am so suave sometimes. 

“Why are you dressed so smart?” he asked. 

I looked down at my outfit. I always looked good, so I don’t know why he thought I was looking particularly better. “I don’t know, just what I picked up off the floor first.” It was true. My outfits are usually entirely random and victim to my lack of time in the mornings. 

“Yeah, sure.” Grey said, unconvinced. 

“It’s true! Any-way. Are you going to this party tonight?” 

“I don’t know,” he said, inhaling and lifting his handle bars up unintentionally so he’d have something to do with his hands. “I don’t have a costume.” 

“Me neither. I was going to go shopping for one later … want to come?” 

“Maybe,” he said, squeezing his brakes. “What time are you going?” 

“I don’t know … what are you doing this afternoon?” 

“I’ve got a tutorial in about two minutes until three o’clock.” 

“Well, I was going to go around three,” I lied. I had no plans, but figured I could make some around his schedule. 

“Hm,” he said, pumping his brakes again. “How about if I call you after my tutorial?” 

“Okay,” I said, nonchalantly. Secretly I was glad to be spending time with him again. Despite having broken up, we had texted each other every day. That’s the problem with breakups that have undefined reasons. What? You don’t want to be with me anymore? Ok, well … talk to you tomorrow? 

“I’ll call you when I’m done.” 

“Great,” I said, immediately wishing I had used any less-keen sounding word. “See you later!” Ugh. Stop. Talking. 

“See ya,” he said, smiling at me as he cycled off. 

I had nothing to do to fill the time between that moment and the end of his tutorial, so I went to the pub. 

I sat and began writing about the past two weeks, beginning with my encounters at the kebab shop, and about Russ and Cam and the Tiger. I checked my phone for the time occasionally, but there was no need to text or call Grey. He was ridiculously prompt, and if he didn’t call when he said he would it usually meant something was wrong. That’s how I knew he had cheated on me. He hadn’t called me that night when he said he would, yet promptly called me repeatedly until I picked up the next morning. 

Any. Way. 

15:01 My phone rings. It had been ages since I had heard the personalised ringtone he had recorded onto my phone. “Pick up, it’s me. Pick up. Pick up. I know you’re screening your calls.” I stared at his name on the screen for a second before answering, my heart jumping slightly. 

“Hey,” I answered, trying to sound cool. He could probably hear me smiling over the phone, but I couldn’t help being amused by how predictably on time his phone call was. His time diligence is one of the many things that makes us complete opposites. But opposites attract right? 

“Hey. Just finished. Where are you?” 

I looked around the pub, “Uh, Boots. Just picking up some shampoo.” He probably wouldn’t approve of my post-breakup alcoholic tendencies, so I lied. 

“Where do you want to meet?” 

“Wherever. I don’t care.” 

“I don’t care either.” Our one common trait had to be indecisiveness, didn’t’ it? 

He was at his department, which was close enough to the pub I was at, so I said I’d meet him there. In my rush to get to him I almost left my notepad with my future blog post scribbled in it. Error. Luckily I got that ‘something’s missing’ feeling and quickly realised what I’d left. 

I cycled to his department where he was waiting for me. He was looking quite good. We made a very attractive couple. As we ventured into town we slipped back into couple mode. Walking and laughing together, everything seemed simpler. An hour into shopping we jokingly picked up the same outfit and tried them on. We looked ridiculous, but agreed that it was less ridiculous if two of us wore it. We may as well have just gone as Dumb and Dumber since that’s what we ended up looking like. 

So there we were. Matching costumes and going to a party together. 

That evening people who knew we had broken up were confused and those who didn’t were none the wiser. 

The Tube Stops, bless their hearts, were fresh off being informed of my split from Grey. I had told them a couple days earlier while we were watching football. 

“I really just can’t believe it. I mean, I thought we had something. I can’t believe he’s gone.” 

“I know, I know. But you’re going to be okay, you can still talk to him,” I said, putting a comforting hand on Foster’s arm. “Just because I’m not dating him doesn’t mean you can’t talk to him.” 

“He won’t want anything to do with me now,” Foster said, looking drearily at his beer. “He only talked to me because I’m friends with you.” 

“That’s not true, he talked about how funny you are all the time.” 

“Really?” Foster said, looking up. 

“Really.” I said, squeezing his arm. “C’mon big guy. Cheer up.” 

As I walked into the party with Grey he leaned towards me and said, “I guess you’ve told them.” 

Slightly confused, I looked up to where Grey was looking to see the Tube Stops, dressed as the Spice Girls, staring at us. 

“It’s fine,” I said, dragging Grey towards them. 

Dill and Goodge, or Sporty and Baby Spice, stood tall and off-standishly said, “Alright mate?” as they shook hands. But just the tone in which they said it made it clear that by ‘mate’ they meant ‘dickhead.’ 

“Alright.” Grey answered, clearly uncomfortable. 

Foster/Ginger Spice stood sheepishly in the corner. “C’mon,” I said, pulling Grey along with me. 

“Nice one, mate!” Grey said, commenting on Foster’s costume. 

“Well, I try.” Foster said, and they went on in their pseudo-homoerotic banter for awhile. 

As I laughed at them I caught sight of Cat walking into the party. Great. Just. Great. We made eye contact and I gave her a look that dared her to try and come over. I try to be the bigger person and forgive and forget, but to forgive would require her to actually apologise for trying it on with my (then) boyfriend. 

I digress. 

We finished talking to Foster, danced to my favourite Calvin Harris song, then made our way to the drinks table. After Grey poured us both generous portions of Gordon’s with a splash of tonic we turned around to find Cat waiting behind us. 

“Hey!” Grey said, greeting her with a hug. 

I dismissed myself from their catch up and unexpectedly ran into Russ. “Hey!” 

“Hey gorgeous girl!” he said, kissing me on the cheek and wrapping his arm around me. “What are you doing here?” 

“Haven’t you realised? I know everyone. What are you doing here?” 

“The girl who lives here is on my course.” 

“What a pleasant coincidence.” I said, smiling. 

“It sure is,” he said, dragging me towards the drinks. “What would you like, lovely?” 

“Anything.” 

“Any thing? I like your style.” Russ poured a vodka tonic and then excused himself to talk to the hostess. 

“Friend of yours?” Grey asked over my shoulder as Russ walked away. 

“Yeah. What’s it to you?” 

Grey grabbed my hand and pulled me back onto the dance floor. We danced like no one was watching until we had exhausted all desire to dance. 

“Want to get out of here?” Grey asked. 

“Sure. Where do you want to go?” 

“Don’t know. We could go hang out at mine.” 

“Okay.” 

We headed back to his, making no attempt to discretely leave together. Everyone saw. Plus our costumes matched. We fooled no one. 

We were lying in his bed side by side in a way that was very reminiscent of the awkward sexual tension between us before we started dating. 

“I feel like a bit of a jerk asking this, but would it be terrible if we had sex right now?” 

“Absolutely not,” I said, rolling over. “I mean, we never did have breakup sex.” 

“This is true. Just as long as that’s what this is.” 

“Definitely.” I said, and I meant it. I had taken enough time to grieve and now I just wanted to get it on again. “This doesn’t change anything.” I kissed him and he rolled on top of me. There’s something very comfortable about sleeping with Grey. He’s obviously good in bed, or else why would I bother? In a way this is what I wanted. Our relationship had been rocky, but the sex was always good. I smiled as we kissed and he simultaneously tried to shimmy his trousers off. “Why don’t you just get up for a second?” I said, his mouth still pressed to mine. 

“Yeah, you’re right,” he said, getting up. 

“I usually am.” 

“Psh. Whatever Trevor.” 

We undressed and he got back into bed. There was a sense of urgency to our kissing and we spent more time on foreplay than usual. The sex itself was some of the best we’d ever had. Uninhibited, non-obligatory. Just two people who had to have each other. 

After we’d finished we remained wrapped around each other, out of breath, and just holding one another. After a couple minutes Grey lifted his head and looked at me. “Well that was different.” 

“I’ll say … Good different?” 

“No. Great different.” 

I laughed. “We should breakup more often.” 

He kissed me. “Are you staying here?” 

“Is that okay?” 

“Of course.” 

It was a bad idea and slightly breached the “breakup sex” contract, but as I slipped into one of his t-shirts I realised that I didn’t care. He wrapped himself around me and we fell asleep. 

If this story led to Grey and I getting back together it would have been entitled “Makeup Sex.” Relationships end for a reason, but it doesn’t mean you stop liking each other immediately. Or ever. I will always have feelings for Grey, but that doesn’t mean I don’t recognise that we make a terrible couple. 

So for now we’re going to stick to what we do best. After all, it isn’t “Monogamy at Oxbridge.” 

2023 Edit: So about a month before we broke up Grey flat out asked me to my face if I knew who wrote this blog and I, of course, lied right back to his face. Because he was onto me and he was in less than a great place mentally I think I really over-exaggerated certain things…like how good the sex was, because to be completely honest this incident was probably one of the only times it was actually good. And even then it wasn’t good enough to justify the shit show that was about to come from it. Plus I was late to something really important the next day so this incident fucked me over in so many ways. Live and learn I guess! Jk I haven’t learned anything.

The Rebounds

“How are you feeling my darling?” 

“I’m okay. Still kind of sad.” 

“I thought about this after you told me the other day, and there is something wrong in that boy’s head. It is his loss.” The owner of my local kebab shop finalised his statement by placing his hands around his wide waist and nodding his head as if to say that was the final word on the matter. “Here you are my darling,” he said in his strong accent as he handed me an order of chips. 

I sighed, watching the grease and vinegar seep through the paper. “I know.” 

Most people probably don’t go to a middle aged kebab shop owner for therapy, but over the course of my time in uni I’ve come to know him well. I rarely eat anything from the kebab shop, but having been dragged there by college mates on nights out, I’ve always ended up talking to the owner. He has the kind of smile that could cheer anyone up and he tells great stories, so I’ve made a habit of stopping to say hello every time I see him working. 

“Don’t be sad. It is his loss. He is a stupid boy. Now, smile!” I cracked a small smile. “That is much better. You have such pretty smile, don’t be sad. Now, what else would you like my darling?” 

“Just the chips is fine.” 

“You must eat. You are too small.” 

I laughed. “I won’t be if I keep eating chips for dinner.” I reached for my purse. 

“Ah, ah, ah, ah,” he said, waving his hand at me. “Don’t worry, I take care of it my darling.” 

“Thanks,” I said, smiling again. 

“For you, anything.” I sat and ate my chips while he told me a story about his family, then we had a winge about the weather, and then I went on my way back to my college. 

I spent the week following my breakup with Grey in a bit of an isolated haze. I avoided my friends to avoid the ‘How’s Grey?’ scenario, and locked myself in my room drinking wine and watching Gossip Girl. 

The next week I ran into a friend of mine at college as I was making my single daily appearance outside of my room to go to a lecture. The only way to describe this boy is ‘cool.’ He defines that word. He is the epitome of coolness. I wouldn’t say he’s part of the Tubestop Gang, but he definitely merits a Tube Stop name, which is Camden, or Cam for short. “Alright, beautiful?” he said, taking a drag from his cigarette. 

“Heyyy,” I said slowly. 

“Love, you have got to cheer up. Come around mine tonight. I’m throwing a party and they we’re going out. It’ll be a laugh.” 

“I don’t know. I think I might be busy,” I said unconvincingly. 

“Yeah right,” he said, unconvinced. “Come on, I haven’t seen you in ages!” 

“I’ll try.” 

“Promise?” 

“Promise.” 

“Wicked. Seven o’clock, yeah?” 

“See you then.” 

“You know I’m going to call you if you’re not there by seven thirty.” 

“I know.” 

He glanced at his watch. “Shit, I’m late.” He was always late. “See you tonight, darlin.” 

“Bye,” I said as he gave me a quick kiss on the cheek and took off. 

I took a deep breath, the lingering smoke and Ralph Lauren cologne filling my lungs. I unintentionally exhaled with a large sigh. I had been doing a lot of huffing and puffing, almost as if I had forgotten to breathe every couple minutes. I was late as well, but in less of a rush to get there than Cam was. 

After my lecture I walked my bike through town, headed nowhere in particular. I window-shopped my way around for about an hour before heading back to college. I parked my bike and went to check my mail. My lackadaisical behaviour meant that all of this had taken me until approximately seven o’clock in the evening. I knew that if I went to my room I would never leave, so I headed across the college for Cam’s. 

“Heyy!! You came! Nice to see you, beautiful,” Cam said as he greeted me with a kiss. 

“Yeah, I came!” I said, trying to feign as much enthusiasm as possible. 

“I’ve ordered a ton of pizza and there’s a crate of beer over there, help yourself to anything.” 

“Oh, thanks. I’ve already eaten though,” I lied. I hadn’t had an appetite in a week and wasn’t about to start shoving pizza down my throat. I went for the liquid calories instead. 

“Hey, have you met my mate?” Cam said, nodding towards an attractive boy standing by the door and speaking to some other guys I know. 

“No, who is he?” 

“First year grad student. He’s on the football team and a good lad. Oi, Russ!” (Short for Russell Square or Jack Russell Terrier. I haven’t decided if he’s a Tube Stop kind of boy or a Dog Breed kind of boy). “Have you met my lovely friend here?” 

“No. Hi, I’m Russ.” 

“Nice to meet you.” 

“And you.” We had some general chat about course and where we’re from and such that you have about a hundred times before half of the first term is over. He got me another beer and as he handed it to me said, “So, are you coming out with us tonight?” 

“Ehh, I don’t know. Probably not.” 

“What? Why not?” 

“I don’t know, I’m just not in the mood.” 

“Oh come on, it will cheer you up!” 

“Maybe.” 

“Whatever is wrong, this will fix it.” 

“Yeah, I tried that last week and it didn’t work so well.” I said, recalling the waterworks outside of Grey’s college. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“Well, my boyfriend broke up with me.” 

“What? With you? He must be crazy.” 

I laughed, “Yeah that seems to be the general opinion.” 

“Well that does suck. My girlfriend broke up with me right before I came here.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry.” 

“Nah, it’s okay. Sometimes things just aren’t right.” He told me more details of his breakup without coming off as if he was trying to get it off with me. 

“Wow, I’m glad I met you.” I said once we had finished rehashing all the ups and downs of our respective relationships. 

“Yeah, it’s been great talking to you. Now, you must come out tonight.” 

“Okay, I’m coming!” 

“Really? Great!” 

Five minutes later. 

“I think I’m going to go.” 

“What?” Russ said, puzzled. 

“Yeah, this has been really fun but I can feel myself taking a turn for a really bad mood.” 

“Aw, come on. It will be great.” 

“Next time, I promise.” 

“Sunday night?” 

“Sure.” 

I was about two drinks away from telling everyone my sob story and felt it best to avoid that scenario at all costs. 

Sunday afternoon I got a text from Cam. 

‘Pre-drinks at mine tonight then we’re going out x’ 

I kept my promise, and made more of an effort when choosing an outfit, straying from the jeans and hoodie look I had been sporting for over a week. 

I walked into the common room where Cam held all his parties to find it packed with fellow members of the college consuming snake bite at an alarming rate. Cam spotted me and came over, “Hey! There she is.” 

“Here I am,” I said smiling. 

“You seem a bit more cheery today.” 

“I’m feeling a bit better.” 

“Good, then grab a drink!” 

I walked towards the drinks and spotted Russ, who almost simultaneously spotted me. His face lit up as he smiled and waved at me. It was kind of precious. “Hey, you came!” 

“I told you I would.” 

“Yeah, but you also told me you’d go out the other night.” 

“Fair enough.” 

“Do you want a drink?” he asked, quickly pushing himself up from off the wall. 

“Sure.” 

“How are you doing?” he asked, handing me a drink. 

“Good,” I said. “Your breakup story actually made me feel much better.” 

He laughed, “Cheers for that.” 

“No, I don’t mean I’m glad you had a bad breakup, but I mean. Yeah, there’s no way to backpedal out of this. I’m sorry.” 

“It’s fine,” he said, smiling. He was giving me that look. The one where you know someone is starting to like you. A slight tilt of the head, a squint in the eyes, a constant smile. I usually panic slightly when I see that look on other people. Not this time though. 

“Are we going to head soon?” 

“Let’s go!” he said, putting his arm around me and escorting me out the door. “Cam!” he shouted once we were outside. “Cam! Let’s go!” 

“Let’s do one!” Cam agreed. 

Their level of excitement put me off slightly, as I was still trying to reintroduce myself into society and the night scene. I played along though, putting my hand around Russ’ waist as we walked out of the college and through town. 

Briony was meeting me at the club and luckily she was close to the front of the queue when we got there, so I slipped in with her. “Hey! How are you?” 

“I’m okay.” I said, and I was. Briony knew me well enough to know that if I answer a question with a conversation ending statement not to push the subject further. 

“Tonight should be fun!” she said, a bit over enthusiastically, as she does. 

“Yeah, should be a good one.” 

We got through the doors and Russ and Cam came in shortly after. “Ladies, let’s do some shots!” Cam said, putting his arms around us and ushering us towards the bar. 

A few shots later and Russ put his arm around me. “Let’s dance,” he whispered into my ear. 

“Yeah, okay.” I said, letting him lead me onto the dance floor. 

We danced. We kissed. We danced some more. I began to notice a lot of our college mates around us and became quite self-conscious. What if Grey found out? He wasn’t even at my college, but we still had enough mutual friends … and then, I thought ‘fuck it.’ I kissed Russ like there was no tomorrow and I really didn’t give two bits about who saw. 

Eventually we were separated and I danced with Briony a bit before heading towards the bar. Russ was flirting some other girls I didn’t know so I got Cam to buy me a shot which we downed together immediately. I felt as if I’d had enough excitement and alcohol for the night and went to coat check to get my stuff. I came back to say goodbye to everyone. 

“What? No! You can’t leave.” Russ said, grabbing a hold of my hand. “Please stay.” 

“I can’t.” 

“Yes you can,” he said, pulling me closer to him. “Look, I’m going to buy you a drink and it will be fine.” 

“You don’t have to –” he was already ordering drinks, “do that.” I said to deaf ears. 

“Here,” he said, handing me his recent purchase. “I’m going to go have a fag, don’t go anywhere.” 

“Okay.” I said, sitting on the bar stool. And I didn’t. But after five minutes he hadn’t returned so I finished off the beer and took off. 

Approximately four days later I was walking through college and saw Russ. 

“Hey you.” I said. 

“Hey!” he said, surprised. “Where did you go the other night?” 

“Where did I go? Where did YOU go?” 

“I came back to find you and you left.” 

“To be fair, you were gone for awhile.” 

“I was, wasn’t I?” he said sheepishly. 

“No worries, it was a fun night.” 

“I was sm-ashed.” 

“I’m sure you were,” I said, raising my eyebrows. 

“What are you up to then?” 

“Nothing.” 

“Cam and I are going shopping for some fancy dress costumes, you want to come?” 

“Sure.” 

We spent the afternoon wandering around town going through various charity shops and joke shops and Halloween shops. In the end I bought nothing and they paid an exorbitant price for some Halloween-brand costumes. To be fair they did look quite good in them. 

“There’s a party at Trinity tonight, you should come.” Cam said. 

“Really?” 

“Yeah, it’s meant to be wild. Then we’ll probably go into town afterwards.” 

“Sounds cool.” 

“I’m going to have drinks at mine beforehand if you want to come by,” Russ offered. 

“Sounds good. See you guys tonight.” 

I couldn’t be bothered with fancy dress, so I just wore the sexiest outfit I could muster. The theme was something about celebrities, so I could pretend I was anyone.  I got to the preparty where, for some reason, I was the only female. My kind of scene really. 

We left for the party and once there Russ was once again all over me. I had started to feel that I actually liked him and that I might not want to just randomly hookup with him, so when he took a break from dancing with me to talk to some other girls I took the opportunity to dance with other people. Russ looked as though he was doing fine on his own and appeared to be chatting up three girls simultaneously, so I left him to it. There was a guy dressed as a tiger at this party, but in the most liberal interpretation of a “tiger.” He was wearing jeans, no shirt, and tiger face paint. He looked quite nice without a shirt on so I decided he was a worthy dance partner. He had been dancing alone so I approached him and just started dancing. Fifteen minutes of dancing later and we were kissing. 

At some point a song came on which reminded Tiger that he had abandoned the rest of his “jungle cats” as he called them, and he excused himself and ran towards a group of equally attractive men dressed as different felines. I laughed a bit to myself and then felt an arm around me and a kiss on my cheek. 

“Hey beautiful,” Russ said. 

“Hey!” I said, surprised. 

“Having fun?” 

I looked towards where Tiger was taking shots with his friends. “Oh yeah.” 

“I think we’re going to head into town, you coming?” 

I looked back towards Russ. “Yeah, definitely.” 

He kissed me before saying, “Good.” 

Shit. 

I found Tiger and told him my plans for the rest of the evening, gave him my number, and as I walked away thought, ‘Well, that was fun,’ but had no real expectations that I would see him again. 

Outside the club Russ looked as if he was on the verge of being refused entry for being too drunk, but we managed to sneak him past the bouncers as Cam sweet talked them. Once in the club my phone started to ring, but like Lady Gaga says, “Sorry I cannot hear you, I’m kind of busy” so I ignored the call. I turned around and saw Tiger holding his phone and looking at me with a look as if to say, “I just saw you ignore my call.” Whoops. 

I quickly ratified the situation by joining him on the dance floor and at the mouth. We had a couple songs of dancing and kissing before the ultimate, “Should we go?” question came up. Why, yes. Yes we should. I had lost Russ and wasn’t particularly worried about him at that point so my conversation with the Tiger moved to whose house was closer. Mine was, and while I rarely bring people back to mine, there is a level of convenience to waking up in your own bed on a school day. 

I did not regret my exception to the rule. The Tiger was amazing. We had sex twice before I fell asleep into a sexually satisfied, drunken stupor. I woke up in the morning the way I like to – alone. There was a note scribbled on a piece of paper apologising for his early exit, but apparently he had class that day as well. He texted me later that day to see how I felt. What a gentleman. 

Rebounding is fun.  

Next time: Belated Breakup Sex with Mr. Grey  

Are We Just Holding Onto Things That We Don’t Have Anymore? 

I’ve been quiet for awhile, and not just in the world of blogging, so nothing personal. Though I promised to write about Mutt next, recent events have inspired other topics. Let’s go back approximately one week and three days ago. Aka, Saturday the 11th of October. 

19:20 Cycling into town, on my mobile to Lad Boy 

LB: What UPPP? 

Me: I was just dumped. 

LB: What?! Aw, I’m sorry. What happened? 

15:35 Grey’s room 

Grey: I don’t think I can do this anymore. 

Me: Okay. 

19:21 Bike. Mobile. Lad Boy 

Me: I don’t know, I’m not surprised. Just. Fucking. Ugh! I was going to dump him! 

LB: Yeah, yeah, whatever. Stop acting like you don’t care. You’ll be fine though. Go find someone to shag and text me in the morning. 

Me: Doable. 

LB: No, but really, are you okay? 

Me: Yeah, totally. I’m fine. 

LB: Really? Because you’re doing that thing where your voice gets higher when you’re lying. ‘I’m fiiiine.’ 

Me: Really. I. Am. Fine. 

23:40 Outside the gates of Grey’s college, drunk and walking my bike. I run into a mutual friend of Grey and mine. 

MF: Hey! How are you? 

Me: (Burst out crying here) He dumped me! (More crying and incoherent retelling of the ordeal). 

16:36 Grey’s Room 

Grey: [“It’s not you, it’s me,” “It’s just not fair to you,” bullshit kind of speech here.] 

Me: You’re right, this is all you. Don’t bring me into this and claim what’s fair and not fair to me. Breakup with me if you want, but you need to do this because it’s what you want, not because it’s what you think is what’s fair to me. 

Grey: … It’s what I want. 

19:24 Almost to my location in town. Still talking to Lad Boy. 

LB: Call T, he was just asking about you. 

Me: Yeah, maybe. 

LB: Look, you’re going to be fine. It’s you! 

Me: I know, it just sucks right now. 

LB: I know it does. It won’t forever though. Go get pissed, that’ll help. 

23:42 College gates. 

Me: (More incoherent babbling and crying). 

MF: There, there. 

I woke up the next morning, alone in my bed, wearing half of the clothes I had worn out the night before. Specifically, the bottom half. I guess I got lazy after the shirt and bra were off. I couldn’t say, as I have no recollection of what happened after 23:43. Did I ride my bike home? Possibly, as I found it strewn across one of the lawns in my college, locked to itself the next morning. It would appear that I ate some marmite on toast when I got back, as my desk still has a hint of the smell of marmite and there are crumbs everywhere. I was also halfway through an episode of Ugly Betty on 4oD  before passing out. Classy. 

I didn’t even know where to start the next day. I lay in bed, watching the clock ticking closer to the time of my lecture, the one thing I had to do that day. A lot of phrases get thrown around breakups – “broken heart,” or, “they really hurt me.” I think these are inaccurate summaries of my feelings, mainly because it’s as if I have none. Someone punching you in the stomach – that hurts, and it could break something. This is more of an emptiness, a nothing, blah kind of sensation. 

I hate to admit it (because I have a desperate need to be right about, and in charge of, everything) but Grey was right when he said that we would be better as friends. A large part of me wanted to tell him to fuck right off, but the fact that he was my best friend for so long won’t change. I had felt as if things were slowly crumbling in our relationship for awhile, but pushed the nagging feeling that I should end things with Grey because I was afraid that he would react to a breakup exactly how I did – with acceptance and a hint of apathy. The apathy was just a front though. I don’t like people to know how much I care. My mum once asked The Ex to tell her something about me and he said, “She’s very guarded.” Despite it being the most awkward dinner conversation in the history of awkward dinner conversations, it was true. 

I don’t show things because people have their own problems, and no one wants to sit there and listen to every minute detail of your mental and emotional state. If people knew the extent to which I analyse and over-think the most mundane situations they would think I was an absolute nutter. To be fair though, I’m not the best at hiding my feelings. Certain physical clues, like clenching my teeth or a raise in pitch in my voice, usually give me away. As cool as we tried to play the whole breakup situation, both Grey and I were desperate to get it over with so we could go our separate ways and breakdown in peace. 

The SAO-Grey Breakup Song: “If I Had Eyes” Jack Johnson 

Insignificant Others  

Remember how I said that in the most childish tit-for-tat retaliation with Grey I went and snogged some random in a club? Not such a random as it turns out. What was suppose to be a one-off lip lock has turned into a nightmare. This boy is so obnoxious that I had to Google ‘most annoying dog breeds’ when thinking of a name. Yorkshire Terrier will do, or Yorkie. 
 
So Yorkie and I have a few mutual friends it seems. After our kiss and run he proceeded to ask each and every mutual friend for my phone number, recounting the tale of the night to all of them as well. I generally avoid calls from numbers I don’t know (and yet always answer calls from ‘Unknown’ just because it would drive me crazy not knowing who it was), but I didn’t have to answer Yorkie’s calls to figure out who it was after three voicemails and about seven text messages in the span of one day. 
 
I finally replied with, ‘It was great to meet you, but I have a boyfriend so please stop texting and calling. Thanks x’ … I think my error was with the ‘x’ sign-off, as he took that as encouragement or a sign that we would someday kiss again. Wrong. 
 
He eventually got bored of my silent treatment, but I still get the occasional judgmental glance from some of our mutual friends. They find him equally annoying and thus I think they are judging me more on my choice of cheatee rather than the fact that I cheated in the first place. I use the word ‘cheat’ slightly more liberally than most, as really – it was only kissing. Though kissing can be like a gateway drug in cheating. I mean, look at what happened with Dill. 
 
Enough of Mr. Brightside. Why is it that those we deem insignificant are the ones that latch on the hardest? I’ve done it myself. There have been times when I have wanted to make more out of a random hookup than I should have, but with complete disregard to all red lights, I pursued these boys until I was drunk, on the phone, and demanding they give me a reason why. Learned to cut those habits out very quickly. No one likes a crier. Also, I picked up that book He’s Just Not That Into You … much better and less forgiving than the movie. Then, about a month later I realised that who cares what they’re into, most of the guys I had dated and slept with I actually wasn’t that into. I think I was more into the idea of them. 
 
I’ll give you a quick rundown of what’s wrong with the guys I have dated/slept with: 
 
-Rugby Blue: Indecisive, small penis, not that great in bed. 
-Rowing Blue: Decent in bed, total slag. So far beyond boyfriend material that his picture could summarise the antithesis of a boyfriend. 
-Ost Bub: Perfect, excepet for location. 
-Italian Stallion: Really messy kisser. Bleh. 
-Dane: In hindsight, I think he may be gay. No joke. We probably did not work out because I am not a man. This has happened to me more times than I would like to admit. The hottest and best dressed/best smelling are always gay. Shame. 
-Berg: His penis is too big. 
-Aussie Boy: Misogynist. 
-The Ex: Great in bed, horrible in relationships. 
-Dill: Has a girlfriend. 
 
And that’s why I’m just not into them. Though the book did give me some perspective, it also gave me a more blasé type of attitude towards the whole dating thing. Then there’s Grey, who I’m still into. So for now I will continue to retrospectively tell some stories. 
 
Next time: Mutt …. he’s from ‘Dane the Great’ and other stories. And soon to be his own story. It’s time that guy got the spotlight. 
 
Hope everyone is surviving their pre-term antics … luckily I’ve got some more free time before lectures begin thus I will be attempting to blog a bit more. 
 
Oh, and if you happen to be a Tab, check out The Cambridge Student. They were the first publication to write a story about me, thus launching me into the greater media – big time, like the Evening Standard and the Metro. Ha, I jest. Anyhow, in return I have agreed to write a column for their weekly student newspaper. 
 
That’s all for now. 

Freshers Week Survival Guide 

Ah, October. When the fresh and brightest faces appear in Oxbridge. The excited last minute shopping sprees with the parents to put the last bits of furnishings around the room. The disappointment when you realise your room is a glorified cupboard, or the shock and awe of a palatial penthouse suite for the lucky few. Freshers Week is exciting for any Oxbridge student, new or old. It’s a time before responsibility hits and when we can hop on the Lashional Express and make some bad decisions.  

Having passed my share of Freshers Weeks with flying colours, I can outline a few guidelines, or warnings if you will. This is mainly aimed at the freshers, as most seasoned veterans have most likely made or seen these mistakes.  

But first, a disclaimer for the parents: My dear Mum and Dad picked up a university newspaper when they were first leaving me all on my lonesome to discover the wonders of the Oxbridge. To their shock and horror it made the university seem like nothing more than a drinking society with a studying problem. I assure you, your children are in competent hands. For the less competent freshers though:  

1. Don’t be THAT couple. There is always a couple who meet Freshers Week and fling themselves into a serious relationship. This will end one of two ways: 99.9% of the time in 2nd or 3rd year heartache, leaving the question ‘Why did I waste my university time with that ONE person?’ In this scenario, you dedicate most of your extracurricular time to this person, often neglecting all other acquaintances and leaving you to be that obnoxious person who cries about a breakup for six months and then hooks up with everyone in college. Don’t do that. Oh, and the other .1% get married. Good luck finding a bridal party though.  

2. Don’t go home with someone in your college during Freshers Week. You have to see them for the rest of the year. And next year. And the year after. And everybody will know that the two of you went home together. Don’t be THOSE two. 

3. Don’t kiss and tell. No one likes the details of their random hookups to be known to the world. And if you ever want to get busy with that person again, it’s best to keep your private life private.  

4. Don’t get kicked out of the local clubs. Bouncers don’t forget. But, if you end up alone and at another club then you can look at it as a friend-making opportunity! That’s a lie, don’t go anywhere alone if you’re a fresher. You might get lost, and asking directions to your own college makes you look like a total saddo.  

5. Don’t get paralytically drunk to the point where you pass out in public. Having people carry you home isn’t friendship-bonding, it’s fucking annoying. And no one will like you for it. 
 
6. Don’t drink at Vinnie’s or the Hawks Club. Your young fresher constitution can’t handle those kinds of drinks. If you have to ask what a Pinky or a Tomahawk is, you shouldn’t be drinking one. 
 
And that’s all I have for now. More to come once I sober up again x x 

2023 Update: I stand by all of this. Especially not kissing and telling. Unless it’s anonymously to everybody on the internet.

I know, I know. 

Aka, I know how to clear internet history. Clearing it from the second your parentals walk into the room and to the computer is another story. 
 
I love the ‘rents, but living with them can be a major hassle. Going back to school will be a welcomed freedom from a life of ‘Where are you going?’ ‘When will you be home?’ Not cool. 
 
Also it means being back with Grey full-time. Not sure how I feel about this. I’ve rarely had to breakup with people, but in this case I may be willing to make an exception. I’m not sure that things are working and I’d almost rather be single than be constantly worrying about ‘the other half’ – you know? 
 
Well time to get one with my day, hope everyone is well. Talk to you soon lovers xx 

2023 Update/Edit:

Right. So. Last time: established I had left out the very minor detail about sleeping with my ex-boyfriend, who dumped me right after I had sex with him for the first time, which was also the first time I had sex with anyone.

Here’s how it went down…

This guy, let’s call him…fuck I can’t think of any names that aren’t actual names of exes. We’ll stick with “this guy”/”this ex”. So this guy calls me out of the blue and asks if he can come visit me and “talk” or “catch up” or something that definitely sounded like a euphemism, which is why it was to my great surprise that he indeed wanted to not only talk, but to apologise.

When something shitty like the guy you lost your virginity to dumping you straight afterwards happens, you always fantasise about them coming crawling back and begging for forgiveness. Never in my wildest dreams did I ever imagine I’d even have to see this ex ever again, save for awkwardly bumping into each other at the Henley regatta every year, let alone have him actively seek me out to talk. But he did and we sat at a picnic table outside of a pub right on the river as he told me how sorry he was.

“…For what?” If he was going to apologise I was going to make him spell it out.

“For…everything?”

Not good enough.

“What do you mean by everything?”

“For breaking up with you after we slept together. That was really shitty of me.”

Good enough. And maybe because I was still mad about Grey, the one boyfriend I thought would never cheat on me, cheating on me with the human equivalent of a troll doll, I looked at this Abercrombie and Fitch model of a man and thought, I forgive you. Which subsequently translated into, I will sleep with you again. And again a couple years later. And then again a few times after that.

I awkwardly bumped into him at Henley regatta this year, as always, and while we didn’t sleep together, we did come to the realisation that he lives ten minutes from me and made empty promises to grab coffee sometime. Then, about a month later, I was asked to do some freelance work at none other than the company he works with, so when I tell you I cannot escape this man I really mean that with my entire being. Which is why it’s nice that he apologised all those years ago and that I let go of any resentments I was still harbouring because now I can simply look at him and think, “Yeah not bad for my first time,” since he is still quite incredibly hot.

Sorry

My computer has been acting up and I can’t exactly use the family computer to post without deleting all internet history and then having my parents thinking I’m watching porn on our PC at all hours of the night. A bit awkward.  

And my parents just walked in. Fantastic timing. Must jet off lovers. An update to come soon. I’m still with Grey. Things are much better, ta for the comments x x 

2023 Update/Edit:

LOL things were not better with Grey. In fact I think by this point I had very much slept with my ex-boyfriend because I’m a sucker for a hot man admitting he was wrong. I have looked ahead and I literally never mention the ex-boyfriend coming to visit again haha. At this time in my life I was still very much being pursued by the press, and around this time also a publishing company, so I was very careful not to insert too many details that I didn’t want the people in my life, namely my boyfriend at the time, to know. I think he knew, though. If him asking me to my face, “Who writes Sex at Oxbridge?” is any indication, then he might have known. The next post is very short, so I will elaborate on how I ended up sleeping with the guy I lost my virginity to again in the next update.

Is There An ‘Off’ Switch for My Crazy? 

If I seem crazy to you at any point, it’s probably because I am. Not clinically. But if I were to self-diagnose I would go ahead and say that there is a whole lot of truth to my nicknames. ‘Mentalist’ is probably the most accurate. Or maybe ‘Crazy Bitch.’ Anyway, I blame my fluctuating and spiralling mood swings on what has to be a chemical imbalance. 
 
To demonstrate, I will give you a visual representation of what happened to me emotionally last night: 
 
 
 

“Yay! I don’t have to do anything today. I can just dance around my room in my pants if I want to.” 

… 

Then, after some deep concentration: 

! 

Telly! Lots of telly! 

Then there was something sad on telly about a girl and a boy who breakup. I had previously felt that I related to this character and then she had to go and break her poor boyfriend’s heart all over Channel 4.  

I had a minor breakdown.  

Decided that love is worthless and that I should go back to being single.  

Then life was pretty much exactly like the beginning scene from Bridget Jones’ Diary where she drinks wine and sings “All By Myself.” 

Then I fell asleep out of exhaustion from my mental rollercoaster of a day.  

I woke up this morning thinking, “WHAT have I done?”  

Luckily I did absolutely nothing except write a whingey blog post about it all. And now this subsequent blog post. I also missed numerous calls and texts from Grey as he was unaware that we were temporarily broken up.  

Oh and I may have agreed to spend the day with an ex today. Not THE Ex. But THE Boy from the very first blog. Why would I agree to hang out with someone who dumped me after sleeping with me? Another mystery. He caught me on MSN chat at a very vulnerable time. I didn’t buy the train ticket or anything so there’s still time to stop this. I think maybe I’ll just go see Grey instead since I’m pretty sure The Boy is under the impression that if we hang out we will sleep together.     

I hope this has given you perspective on the kind of crazy myself and those around me deal with on a daily basis. Quite funnnnn.  

Have a lovely day. Ta ta darlings x x 

A foretelling of what will happen when I see Grey today. 

2023 Update/Edit:

Good to see I have always been in full blown delulu mode because that last photo was never, ever, what it was like when I saw Grey.

Also it turns out I do have a chemical imbalance but that’s not necessarily why I’m so chaotic. I think that just comes with my flare for drama. At least I have adult money and private insurance to deal with all this now, hence not just going on the internet to share all my problems. Lol jk I still do that, just on Twitter instead of here. I refuse to call Twitter “X” no matter how many rebrands it goes through.

I’m not sure I told the truth about what happened with my ex-boyfriend who did come to see me but that’ll just have to be part of the next edit/update.

Oh, Bother 

Relationships can be great. They can also be horrendous. My relationship with Grey has been wavering in and out of the latter.  

I won’t lie to you, as it really is of no use. You don’t know me. I don’t know you. So where else can I be completely honest about things? I am absolutely miserable. When I told Grey I forgave him, that was pretty honest. Saying that I would ever trust him again was another issue entirely. As I’ve told you, I’ve been cheated on. As in proper, entirely second relationship happening behind my back, cheated on. People had warned me about The Ex, I knew what I was getting myself into. Grey was so different. He was sweet*, kind, the kind of boyfriend you’d see in some cheesy film. Obviously from experience I know that men cheat. Mainly because they’re either cheating with me or trying to cheat with me, or telling me about their cheating. I don’t know why I thought Grey would be any different. My mistake I suppose. 

I have come to realise that Grey and I are so completely different that it borders on incompatible. The idea that opposites attract is fine and all, but not when it comes to issues which are fundamental to a relationship. Grey and I planned a holiday to the South together next week, but I cannot honestly say that if it weren’t for this planned retreat that I would still be with him. 

I am, of course, writing out all the things I’m thinking. There is a reason I do not speak what I’m thinking at all times, which is because I’d either be left with no friends or no boyfriend. These fleeting thoughts are often, well just that, fleeting. In five minutes I’ll probably be on the phone with Grey, completely forgetting this train of thought. 

Or I will be cancelling our weekend away together.** 

2023 Update/Edit:

*He was a miserable bastard. But he was hot. Like really hot. And we did have some good times together, but I wouldn’t exactly call him sweet.

**My dumb ass did not cancel this holiday and literally all my friends I introduced him to were like, “He’s kind of a jerk to you.” He was kind of a jerk. Hence not sweet. But yeah it was a terribly misguided holiday and we almost broke up over me letting my family dog sleep in the bed with us. He was like, “it’s me or the dog” (in the bed, but probably also in general) and that’s how I ended up sleeping on the couch with the dog. Do not give me an ultimatum involving a dog, you will lose every single time.