New Perspectives..

This is totally out of context seeing as neither one of us has written anything here for months, but I just read through my old posts about Foreign Lover and WOW how things have changed. It's so weird to look back on how upset I got over things which at the time seemed HUGE and now seem silly and pathetic. Turns out I had nothing to worry about at all.
It's like what Fergie says.. "All the things I know right now, if I only knew back then". When I first heard this song, I heard this line negatively- as in back then when I had let down my guard to Foreign Lover and started to really like him I had no idea of how much shit he would put me through.
But now, with my new perspective on the whole situation, due to recent visit to his house, I hear this line positively. If only I knew throughout the whole time I was suffering that really, I was just being paranoid and twisting most of what I read into what I wanted it to be- and being so self destructive, it was all negative. And the things that I read that I didn't twist, that I knew were true- such as Foreign Lover getting a girlfriend and their pictures being posted all over facebook- I didn't even need to worry about.
If only I knew back then, I would have saved myself from six months of hurt. And screw facebook for making me so paranoid- when I actually spoke to Foreign Lover about everything (and embarassingly I do mean everything..), I realised how everything had been out of context, and I had no idea how he was actually feeling.
Finally, all those posts I made about not being beautiful or skinny enough- well I'm not saying that I'm happy with myself, but he saw me with no make up on and didn't puke.
That's all I needed really.

I love goths

Boys Are Such A Bloody Chore

I could actually cry right now. But no, I'm going to put everything into words because once feelings are words they're really not so big and scary anymore. God, I sound like I go to a shrink.
You know when you like someone - really like them, as in you get that feeling in your stomach and can't hold back a smile whenever someone says their name - but they just do not get it?
What can I do, save for throwing myself at him?

I guess I should give a little background information. Even when Emotionally Unitelligent and I were together, I began to like one of his best friends: Sweet Neighbour. He's funny and nice and has the cutest smile and lives nearby and has a weird side like me and is cheeky and... and he's honestly... kind of dumb.
I've gone from Emotionally Unintelligent to Plain Regular Unintelligent
See, we're friends but not close friends and for some reason our conversations on facebook are disappointingly boring, even though I know we have the same sense of humour. I don't know why we don't click - maybe I want us to too badly?
I've been trying my hardest to keep in contact with him yet not be too clingy and forward in case he doesn't feel the same way. Regardless its proving a very difficult task because he always signs off mid-conversation!
At first I put it down to a bad internet connection, but now it seems when he just can't be bothered to talk. And how can I build on a relationship and get something going if we don't even communicate?????

What is the point?
He obviously doesn't think of me that way
So why can't my sensible side take over?
Why am I still thinking about the coulda, woulda, shouldas?
THIS IS SO FRUSTRATING


Fuck me sideways, I hate emotions



J. x

Naturally Fucked...

I was stalking Foreign Lover's exes the other day, when I came across one who really fucked with my head. I recognised her name, and then remembered having read something somewhere about her being his 'first love'. Looking through her pictures I wanted to cry- she was thin, popular and naturally beautiful. Naturally beautiful. That's the phrase everyone commented her photos with. Even the friend beside me looking over my shoulder gasped, and said those exact words. Brilliant. And then I came across a comment from Foreign Lover himself... "You know what I think about this picture. You're beautiful ♥".

Never have I had a comment from him even verging on that. For a guy to call a girl beautiful on a photo comment which everyone can see is really something.
The thing about me is that I'm not naturally beautiful. In fact, I'm not beautiful at all. My look is obvious- fake blonde hair, makeup, low cut tops, big boobs and short skirts. Okay for a first glance, a one night thing, but there's nothing special about me so people don't want me for any longer than that.

So, for some reason I thought visiting my favourite thinspo websites would make me feel better. I couldn't have been more wrong. I now have 258 pictures saved on my computer. I think that counts as being obsessed? Like, worryingly.

Why the fuck does everything that upsets me in my life link back to me not being beautiful or skinny? And why have I still not done something about it?! For fuck's sake. No wonder he doesn't give a shit about me anymore.

I would do literally anything to be as naturally stunning as any of them.

Goes without saying that I would not be having these daily depressions due to Foreign Lover's dwindling interest if I was...

I think my self-confidence just hit -9786493295754898159.

♥ C

The Sun Has Made Me Positive

I'm hungry.
I'm tired.
I'm over-worked (though I haven't actually done any of it).
I'm aching.
I'm bored.
I'm all sunned-out.

And I am very pissed off at myself for having done absolutely NOTHING for my past two weeks of holiday.
It's kind of been like being a zombie for a fortnight. Zombies are cool and, don't get me wrong, it was fun at the time. But now that I look back, I have nothing to show for my hours wittled away watching E Entertainment and the occasional episode of Life of Ryan. Nothing but a repertoire of highly useful celebrity knowledge and a re-established love of Ryan Sheckler and the beautiful state of California.
But tomorrow it all ends, when I have to wake up for school at 6.45. Bring it! I know what you're thinking: I should be dreading the inevitable shrills of the alarm clock, right? Wrong. For once I am actually excited to have some structure and a place to be every day. I'm going to be super concentrated at school and cram in as much information as I can in preparation of The Big Exams.
Well, least that's the plan...

WISH ME LUCK

J. X

One Wish

If there was one thing I could ask for in the world, it wouldn't be Foreign Lover. It would be to be beautiful.




Guess I'm screwed.

♥ C

When other hoes get involved...

Having not spoken to Foreign Lover for a few days (his fault, not mine, as always..), it came as a LOVELY surprise to find a comment on his profile from a girl- 'was nice to finally see you ;) haaa xxxx'. I'm sorry, WHICH part of that comment was funny? And what's with the winking face??!!

Not only is this girl VERY PRETTY, but she is also ENGLISH. Lethal combination, especially when he always talked about how he doesn't like the French girls he knows because they're all the same. Brilliant brilliant brilliant, she sounds freakin' perfect to me. She's also skinny. This just doesn't get any better does it...

Having stalked her a bit (alright, A LOT), I found that she had also 'liked' two of his profile pictures. Fair enough, I mean he's pretty hot.. but then I realised one of the pictures she had liked was the 28th in his Profile Pictures album. Um. FUCKING KEEN OR WHAT. She's obviously a demented obsessed stalker freak...
That makes two of us then.

He better bloody watch his reply, because I will be analysing it within an inch of its life.
And I swear to God, if either of them are considering her being my successor.. Well let's just say she had better be prepared.

I fight dirty.

♥ C

cuteness overload

old people are cute, but this is cuter

Spring has sprung and we are free

I have a new addiction, and it goes by the name of www.lookbook.nu (what country is .nu??)
I figure at least its safer than cocaine and healthier than caffeine. Almost.

Feeling so inspired right now, I'm going to go plan some outfits with the money I don't have
Love
J ♥

Don't Look Back

How do I describe how I'm feeling right now?
Drained. Empty. Lost.

What has done this to me?
Well I (being the self-destructive idiot that I am) decided to read all the saved conversations I have from Emotionally Unintelligent and his friends just before we 'broke up' (the inverted commas are there because how can you break something that was never whole?) so that I could finally delete them.
We were mid-fight because he had been a rude, obnoxious, unsympathetic cunt to my friends and had never made an effort to make me feel of any value to him. All the signs were there. He ended every comment on a delicate subject with 'lol' and avoided every challenging statement I made. I was so frustrated at the time with him for dodging any chance for us to connect and argue and fight and say what needed to be said. But reading back, I was just frustrated with myself for letting him bypass what was so desperately vital for us to keep going. I tried my hardest and when he didn't tug back, I gave up. I should have ended it, right there, right then. I should have, I could have, I didn't.
Afterwards I sat here in front of my computer and I cried. Then I sat on my bed and I cried some more. I cried and I cried for this girl that got so lost she couldn't even see a sign so blindingly obvious. I cried for the destruction of a whole relationship with another human being and the fragility of any friendship you may form in life. I cried for reasons I will never realise. I cried for the emptiness that has been torn inside me. I cried for this unfulfilled feeling I have far too frequently nowadays. I cried for the sake of crying. I cried for a release. I cried because I cry and that is what I do.

Yes, I cry. That is my thing now. I cry at least once every two weeks, because if I don't it all comes bawling out because someone left the milk out, or someone said something out of line. I will be balancing on a tightrope, and suddenly something will push me over the edge and I will howl tears that don't settle me but leave me confused and scared by the inconsistency of my own feelings. I used to get angry, now I just cry.

I blame the hormones.

J x

Procrastination of the Highest Calibre

I should be writing a history essay on which methods the Palestinian Arabs used to try to secure an independent homeland in the 1960s and 70s, but I figure it can wait whilst I drool over this beauty


Mateus Verdelho. Even without the abs and the biceps and the many very well-placed tattoos, this man would probably still be classed as hot simply for his name. Mateus Verdelho. Say it with me girls! Mateus Verdelho.... yum.

Mid-season Crisis of Hair

At this current moment of time, I feel like a giant baked potato.

Today I begin the long and tedious stages of returning to being a Blonde. I have forty minutes till I can unveil the colour, though right now I'm slightly dreading the caramel hues that lie beneath all this tin foil. Seriously people, someone really needs to create a hair dye soon that can transform hair from the deepest chocolate brown to barbie blonde in one go, so that I can have my Jekyll and Hyde moments without the nothingness transition colour in between.
I have always liked the idea of living by seasons; blonde by Summer, brunette for the Winter. When I'm older and far richer I want to have Winter and Summer homes too. If I'm rich enough, maybe even Spring and Autumn ones - new york in Autumn is a given; Paris in Spring would be beyond perfect.
I really was beginning to be enjoy having a head of deep reddish brown and I'd been juggling with the idea of maybe not turning back blonde for a while like I had originally planned, but you can only see so many hot blondes without wanting to emulate them - Take Kate Hudson, Sienna Miller, Jeniffer Aniston, Kristen Bell, Kate Bosworth, Cameron Diaz....
Not that there aren't stunning brunettes. Erm hello, Angelina Jolie. Need I say anymore?
But still, I wanted to go back to being blonde again, at least for a while. Turns out, not so simple. Kapow Blonde is going to have to be put on the back burner, whilst I try to make Is-It-Blonde-Is-It-Brown? hair work. For a couple weeks I may just have to tell everyone that my hair is having a crisis of identity and be done with it. Let's just see. I'll let you know just how train-wreckish it looks later.

Fingers crossed,
J. x

A Quick One To Lift The Mood

So I'm ill again. Fucking wonderfuckingful fucking luck. Fuck.

Mumford and Sons are making me feel that eeny weeny bit better though

I love them.
J ♥

The Lovely Bones

We've gone back to how we were a few months after the summer, where we'd started drifting and conversations were strained. Can't deal with this this soon, it's only been a month and a week for goodness' sake! I'm nowhere near ready to move on/let go! I can't even bloody bring myself close to getting with someone else; even when I'm totally pissed and there's someone beside me who's up for it, I still manage to stop myself (and let me tell you that is a mean feat when I am so drunk that I can barely see)!

To try and pass the time I have been on tumblr for hours on end; the obsession has gotten worse, I physically cannot stop myself from going through every page on every blog that seems remotely interesting. I have become addicted to staring at pictures of beautifully skinny girls; not very healthy, especially since the pictures have inspired me. Not in a "I want to lose weight and be skinny so that I can look at myself in the mirror without wanting to cry" kind of way (although that is also part of it), but mainly because, terrible as it is to say, I want him to take notice of me. I want him to be worried about me, scared for me, and I know that is a horrible thing to wish upon someone, but I simply can't help it. Doesn't everyone crave a bit of attention? It's a way of seeing if someone really cares for you, and it's reassuring when you have people around you who want to look after you.


Looking at that picture, her beautifully sharp hipbones, you know something is wrong- that's what I love about it. It's the fragility of a skinny person that I find so mesmerising, it's like a way of externalising how they feel inside. So maybe if he saw me looking noticeably skinnier, he'd worry. Or maybe he'd go off me completely due to my lack of boobs. I don't know, but maybe it's worth a try? Because then, I found this picture:

And the thought of that scares me a million times more than being hungry for a while.
♥ C

Countdown to Summer Begins..

Such such SUCHH a beautiful day today, I seriously thought it was summer; then I stepped outside and almost froze to death. But still, so beautiful. It was one of those days when you just feel happy to be alive, and have the urge to wear floral, eat fresh food and drink rosé. Or maybe that's just me.
Either way, this summer will be extra special not only because it will mean the end of Big Exams, but because I will be seeing Foreign Lover again! Woo!! Although I spent most of the day fantasising about seeing him again, typically I began worrying about it too. Seriously, my worrying is getting out of control; I remember when I heard he was coming to London, I got so worried that I got to the point where I had decided that it would be better if he didn't come at all. I know. Ridiculous. But still, inevitable for me. Today, I started thinking about the fact that because last time was so amazing, this time wouldn't be as good and I would end up disappointed. I think the reason last time was such a success was that due to my excessive preparation for all the worst scenarios, I wasn't expecting too much so I was pleasantly surprised when everything went perfectly. The best thing is probably not to think about it too much as, after all, it is in 5 fat months.
However, that is not how things work in C's world. Planning is essential, which perhaps explains why I found myself on tumblr at one a.m. going through hundreds of pages of pictures for inspiration for summer outfits. Sadly, this had the opposite effect as I ended up depressed due to all the beautiful people I came across, and am now undecided whether to go blonder or browner. I am ridiculously temperamental when it comes to decisions regarding the colour of my hair. The thing is though, Foreign Lover's friends are all gorgeous and to be honest I am shitting myself at the thought of meeting them, hence the craziness at needing to look good. It's bad enough meeting a prospective lover's friends, but when half of them look like models and you need to prove to them that it's not a waste of time that we like eachother despite living in different countries, the pressure is REALLY on. I mean, what the hell do I do when there's not even enough time to go on a diet before seeing him because of Big Exams? And how am I supposed to make a good impression on a bunch of French rich girls who will probably hate me? NOT TO MENTION how in God's name am I going to be able to buy all these amazing outfits that I have dreamt up..???
For now, all I can comfort myself with is this picture of this girl's amazing hair:

Dont know why, but I can't stop staring at it. A sign that I should go darker for summer perhaps? Come to think of it, all of Foreign Lover's exes were brunette.. maybe it IS a sign!?!

Oh fuck that. God knows I will have found an excuse not to by tomorrow.

nighty night,

♥ C

How Old Am I Again?

Everything seems to be slowing down. Perhaps its the run-up to the Big Exams, or maybe people are just more interested in living like a hermit nowadays. Whatever it is, I have spent far too many weekends sober and have actually resorted to watching Friday Night With Jonathon Ross, curled up in a blanket, ready to fall asleep by eleven.
Last weekend C and I spent all of friday to sunday at our friend's house. We did not go out, bar going for walks on the nearby fields and popping to the shops on a mission to get self-raising flour for our morning pancakes.
Things are changing.
Vodka shots have been replaced with glasses of red wine.
Dubstep has been taken off the playlist, for Laura Marling and Florence & the Machine.
Nights Out have been traded for Nights In.
Yes. That's right. J is now a domesticated forty-year old.
Part of me likes it; that feeling of sophistication. The pride of maturing far faster than our peers. But last night, I realised how bad it had gotten.... Last night, I was ready to go to bed at nine o'clock.
Of course I didn't go to bed then because Man Whore - one of C and I's best male friends, who is undoubtedly the sluttiest of them all - invited himself over and kept me awake till I kicked him out on his ass at quarter to one.
Nevertheless, my point still stands. I was ready to sleep at nine o'clock on a saturday night. Forget forty, I'm basically living in a retiring home. Oh dear.

With love,
J

Setting The Scene, From J

The lowdown on my life? Far less dramatic than C's, I can assure you, because sadly, I am not in love. I don't think I ever have been and I am starting to doubt that I will ever even notice when Cupid pricks me with an arrow. How does one know when they are in love - how can you seperate feelings of lust between feelings of another, more over-used L word?
I did think I was in love with 'the ex' - if you can even call him that. In fact, let's name him by the trait he is best know for: being Emotionally Unintelligent. He was so uncaring, self-centred and downright thick that we spent three months 'together', yet emotionally on totally different pages. I had allowed myself to become trapped in a relationship that didn't even truly qualify as a relationship, because he couldn't be bothered to make the effort to take that step into couplehood. What a lovely lad he turned out to be.
My point is that during the Christmas holidays - which I have learned are as much about loneliness as festive cheer - he was having massages on some faraway beach whilst I was still stuck in relationship purgatory back in busy, grey London. All that loneliness and abundant free time manifested itself in a ridiculous fantasy of mine, in which Emotionally Unintelligent was the complete opposite of himself. I built up an alter-ego and fell in love with it.
In my alternative world, he was kind and sweet. He told me how much he valued what we had, as well as showing it in the way he held me close. I played over reels and reels of sappy movie scenes in my head, where we were the ones kissing in the rain and walking hand in hand down the street. He was my Leo, my Brad, my George. He was himself - only better.
It took me a long time to realise that I was in love with a fabrication of my own touchy-feely Hollywood vision of what romance should be, not the boy I was so distant from.
All in all, to this day, although I am only sixteen, I have never been in love. Probably not even close. I have the rest of my life for love, but I am so very impatient so anytime soon would be nice....

I'll keep you posted

J
♥

The Lowdown From C

Right, so I kind of stupidly fell in love with someone who lives in France. To be honest, I always knew I would fall for someone who lived in a different country, and although I know that I am waaay too young for him to possibly be 'The One', and that 'your teenage years are all about heartbreak' (reassuring words from J's mother), this does not change the fact that I have, in fact, fallen for him and that now I have no clues what the fuck to do. When I'm at school, although I go on about him all the time, repeating countless stupid stories again and again to whoever will listen, it's not so bad as I am distracted, have work to do and other people's problems to listen to. HOWEVER, the worst part is the evenings, where rather than doing work that is way past due, I find myself sitting in front of the computer, staring at the little 'chat' box with his name on it urging it to turn green, waiting for an inbox for him which never comes, and my heart jumping every time my phone bleeps with a text, never from him of course.

These joyous evenings often end with a minor breakdown of tears accompanied by the songs on my depressing playlists that I made just so I could feel as though someone understood how I felt. This is really bad. I am going to fail my Big Exams because of this boy, and for what? It's not as though I'm going to see him anytime soon, and when he does actually bother to reply to my messages, they disappoint heavily. Tonight for example, after four days of silence, he, rather untactfully, tells me about a party he is going to this weekend where 'it will be fun as there are no parents so we can sleep over :) dont tell my mum haha :p'. Oh yes, HOW HILARIOUS. So I will be in the countryside, bored out of my mind, surrounded by old people and dreaming of a cigarette, while he is 'having some fun' with god knows who. I am aware that I sound like an old woman here, but I simply do not want to know about this. I mean, I'm not naive enough to think he's going to stay away from girls until we see eachother again, but this piece of unnecessary information is doing me no good and just making me depressed thinking of him with other girls, so why did he decide to tell me? There are two options here: 1- he could be trying to push me away as he has realised there is no point in us liking eachother as we are only ever going to see eachother twice a year, and there really is no future for us, or 2- he is a complete imbecile.

I'm praying to the sweet lord above that it's the second option.

Another night of depression awaits... And who ever said being in love was amazing. Yeah. No. I need to get a grip.

♥ C