Tuesday, 29 September 2009


A selection of messages going between me and one of my friends today . . .

PAULA: Deposit now paid so definitely have a couple of tables for Saturday night.
FRIEND: Yay!!!
PAULA: So that's the venue sorted. Now all I need is an outfit...
FRIEND: Oooh! Do you have a theme?
PAULA: No!!!
PAULA: In fact, how about a "everyone has to look older than Paula" theme??? (Given that I'm going to be 30, may as well ensure I'm the youngest looking)
FRIEND: Oh, there won't be any problem there! (Since the general reaction to hearing I am going to be thirty is "Oh you look so young!")
PAULA: Still, to make sure, perhaps I'll wear a babygro.
PAULA: Maybe not. People might mistake me for Lady Gaga.

Has she worn a babygro yet???

Oh, that'll be next.

For sure.

(Lady GG, if you somehow stumble across my blog and end up wearing a babygro as a result, I soooo want the credit for it!)


You know how some nights when you're out and you can't even remember what you did because you had rather more to drink than intended???

And perhaps you don't remember the points between leaving the pub and getting home?

And then you wake up in the morning and read your friend's blog post about it and it all comes flooding back???

I repeat . . . oh dear . . .

Still it could have been worse.

Sunday, 27 September 2009


I have a bit of a dislike for iPhones.

I know you're meant to be able to back up your opinion with a wise, well thought out, balanced argument as to WHY you like or dislike something. But I can't really be bothered. Because I can't quite put my finger on it. I guess it's something to do with the fact that everyone seems to own one, or be talking about how they are going to GET one. When everyone starts doing something, it's my natural reaction to avoid it like the plague.

Plus I kinda like my Blackberry now.

Anyway, I guess it isn't so much the product ITSELF I dislike. It's the bloody stupid TV advert for the applications that REALLY does my head in. "Whatever you want, there's an app for that." Blah blah blah BLAH BLAH. I don't CARE!!!!

But it got me wondering what kind of aps would come in handy for me . . .

  • "Are you out drinking and wondering how many more glasses of rose wine you can imbibe before you pass out? There's an app for that."
  • "If you've managed to inadvertently piss off another girl on the dancefloor on a night out and are trying to work out how to make peace before she punches you . . . there's an app for that too!"
  • "If you're completely hungover and unable to get out of bed and need someone to deliver you a roll & sausage & potato scone along with some hangover-reducing full fat Coca Cola . . . guess what? There's an app for that too! (Although it will involve a complete stranger walking into your bedroom. Oh well, as long as he's sexy...)"
  • "Always saying the wrong thing at the wrong time? Wish there was a switch in your brain that would STOP you from doing so? There's an app for that."
  • "Want to kill some random person on the street who just WON'T GET OUT OF YOUR WAY??? Unbelievably . . . there's an app for that also!!!"
So Apple . . . if you want MY custom . . . then maybe you should start looking into these Paula-specific apps. You have about a year to get it sorted though - my contract on my current phone won't run out until then.

Speaking of which, is there an app where I can submit my suggestions for apps???

Friday, 25 September 2009


I was talking to my flatmates the other night (as well as discussing which celebrities we'd like to bone) about who we've been told we look like, celebrity-wise. I've been told I look like TONS of celebrities. None of whom look remotely the same. And I have never particularly thought i resemble ANY of them...

So then we got to discussing those "celebrity look-a-like" websites you can upload a picture into online and have it tell you who you allegedly look the most like. I've done a lot of these in my time - I'm bored and online A LOT - and I was telling them I found it weird how many black, Latino or Eastern-European celebrities I tend to be compared to seeing that I'm pretty much 100% Scottish.

So since it's Friday night and I'm procrastinating rather than doing a project I need to have done for tomorrow (in theory, it's actually a FUN project but the minute I decide I HAVE to do something, it suddenly becomes "not fun" anymore), I decided to do a little experiment.

I've chosen three pictures of myself, fed them into the My Heritage celebrity collage generator, and saw what celebrities are paired up with me in terms of highest percentage of facial recognition. Fun, right?

So let's delay no longer. Bring on picture numero uno . . .

1. Elisha Cuthbert
2. Krisdayanti
3. Eva Longoria
4. Anne Hathaway
5. Tata Young
6. Cheryl Tweedy
7. Carol Vorderman
8. Amanda Seyfried
9. Aya Matsuura
10. Sharon Stone

First of all, who is Krisdayanti when she's at home??? (Okay, I've looked it up and I THINK she's some sort of singer?)

Secondly, I REALLY don't like Elisha Cuthbert so being told I look like her? Not a compliment.

Carol Vorderman is like OLD. Although she CAN do incredible maths in her head (my mental arithmetic sucks ass) AND looks better in a bikini than I do. Oh well...

Okay, let's see what happens when I upload picture number two . . .

1. Renee Zellweger

2. Vanessa Marcil
3. Rachael Leigh Cook
4. Natalie Imbruglia
5. Kate Hudson
6. Famke Janssen
7. Adriana Karembeu
8. Stacy Ferguson (Fergie)
9. Ali Landry
10. Jennifer Lopez

Once again, number one on the list is not someone I would want to be compared to. Lovely.

Secondly, here is an oddly weird fact. I have this joke about how me and Rachael Leigh Cook are twins separated at birth as we were both born on the 4th October 1979. The fact that, according to this we are an 83% match in terms of facial recognition . . . should I be heading to the States to claim we've been separated at birth and perhaps claim some money off her???

Okay, last but not least, step up picture number three . . .

1. Jenna Elfman

2. Liz Hurley
3. Scarlett Johanssen (grrr)
4. Rachael Leigh Cook (again!!!)
5. Krista Allen
6. Lacey Chabert
7. Beyonce
8. Anna Paquin
9. Tata Young
10. Paz Vega

Okay, the twin theory is increasing with me and Rachael. I have another repeat offender in the case of Tata Young. I haven't even looked up who she is, but I love the fact her name is "Tata". I wonder if it's her real name.

So what do you think? Can you see ANY resemblance??? And how can I look 83% like Rachael Leigh Cook, Kate Hudson, Natalie Imbruglia AND Famke Janseen . . . WHEN NONE OF THEM LOOK REMOTELY LIKE ONE ANOTHER!!!

And can you imagine if one of THEM put their picture into the generator and somehow came out with ME as a match? I'd be fuming if I was them. Hahaha.

Who have YOU been told you look like? Or, if you've ever tried this little "game" yourself, what results did you get? I'd love to know... ;)

Wednesday, 23 September 2009


Okay, let';s shake off the negativity of earlier and try and move on. Tomorrow is a new day and all that - I know I feel just as rubbish but may as well try and have a nice sleep. (Yeah, like THAT'S gonna happen when I'm dreading going back so much. ANYWAY...)

Last night, as I mentioned, we had a bit of a farewell dinner for one of our flatmates. Five out of six of us were in attendance, the food was yummy, the wine was flowing and we were getting into one of those really deep and meaningful discussions. Really important life stuff.

Like what five famous people you'd be allowed to sleep with.

I didn't actually think I was going to be able to manage this at first. I rarely have intense crushes on celebrities - although I find LOADS of them attractive. I guess I just can't really see them as date-able material. When I was a kid, I COULD. I just KNEW that if the celebrity I fancied met me in real life he would fall in love with me. Now . . . not so much. I am a TAD more realistic than that.

Anyway . . . sitting there in the kitchen, mildly inebriated and more than a little horny (it has now been five weeks since I've had a shag and given that the guy is out of the picture I guess it might be another wee while), it suddenly wasn't so hard for me to conjure up some names.

So who made the short list???

1. The only one I knew straight off the bat was on my list, Robert Downey Jnr. I have loved him for YEARS, ever since I first saw the film "Only You" with Marisa Tomei. But especially when he played Larry in Ally MacBeal. After his character left, it all went downhill for me from there...

2. Kelly Jones from the Stereophonics. I've mentioned my love for him before. Although I WILL have to fight my flatmate for him since she claims she saw him first.

3. Paul Rudd. Loved him in Clueless, loved him in Friends, EVEN loved him in Anchorman with that dodgy facial hair. Now that MUST be love...

4. George Clooney. He may be old but he's still hot.

5. Ryan Reynolds. I can't BELIEVE Scarlett stole him from me. Bitch.

To be honest, there was actually six in the end, which resulted in me demoting George when I couldn't choose between Paul and Ryan. As it turned out, I can't remember who it WAS now, which means I guess he couldn't have been that important. Anyway, I'd ultimately decided that, since I am single, I CAN SLEEP WITH HOWEVER MANY CELEBRITIES I WANT!

Suck on THAT, people in committed relationships!!!

Other guys I REALLY wouldn't mind sleeping with? Michael Vartan, the guy who plays Chuck IN "Chuck", David Boreanaz (back in the "Angel" era, I'm not so hot on him now), the guy who was in (500) Days of Summer who used to be in "3rd Rock" (I only remember he has three names, but can't remember what they are), Ryan Philippe (cheating love rat though he might be) and Penn Badgely from "Gossip Girl" - although he may be a LITTLE bit young.

Okay, I guess it's time to go to bed and have dirty dreams now.

And try REALLY hard not to stress about going back there tomorrow...


I honestly am not sure how much more of this I can take.

I actually wanted to cry when I got home tonight. Because I had such a bad day, have had such a few bad weeks, and I don't want to go back. And I was so utterly RELIEVED to not be there anymore.

I feel like all I do is try and it's always for nothing. I'm so de-motivated it's hard to KEEP trying but I do. I'm not even sure WHY I try anymore.

And I'm so stressed. My stress neck (lovely dry red patches of skin - soo attractive) is back again. Which always happens at times such as this.

I'm being pushed out. I know this. I've known it all along.

But it still hurts all the same.

Apologies, just needed a quick vent. I'm feeling utterly miserable and drained right now. I'll probably be back later though. I will need to post something more cheerful in order to cheer myself up.

Right now though, I feel like wallowing for a bit.

Tuesday, 22 September 2009


  • Why was I so drunk last night? It was Weekly W(h)ine Night (I added the "H" myself) as we like to bitch about our jobs and life in general while drinking loads of wine) and we managed to drink one bottle of white, three bottles of rose AND a pitcher of strawberry WooWoos between three of us. Amazingly, not only was I completely NOT hungover this morning, but I managed to make it into the office for seven am. Miracles DO happen...
  • Last night culminated in me and my friend D wandering down Buchanan Street listening to her iPod and singing tiny snippets of nineties songs as if we were an advert for a "Greatest Songs of the 90s" album (weirdly enough, I actually ORDERED a 90s compilation album just the other day...)
  • As Andhari kindly pointed out, my post last night was still very grammar conscious. This was mainly because I was tip-toe typing with my fingers - doing it so gingerly and carefully and painstakingly, that I couldn't POSSIBLY make a mistake. This is ALSO why I couldn't have possibly wrote a proper post. Because it took me about twenty minutes just to type THAT tiny one . . .
  • For those who asked, "(500) Days of Summer" is a FABULOUS movie and I would thoroughly recommend it. We went to see it last Wednesday and had a great night. It also helped that me and Mich went for dinner beforehand and got it completely free. Woohoo!!!
  • Over the weekend, I decided to make Sunday my designated "going out" night. NOT the best of ideas.
  • We went to see a Pussycat Dolls tribute act. They were fantastic. I would go as far as to say they perhaps "out-Pussycatted" the Dolls themselves. Their support act? Not so much. Two young girls squeezed into waaaayyyy too revealing outfits and sporting horrendous hair extensions, who looked like they had accidentally stumbled onstage after mistaking it for their bedroom . . . which is the only place they should have been allowed to perform. Oh well . . . at least they enjoyed themselves I suppose...
  • The quote of the night had to be from my friend C's boyfriend, who deemed a girl in the venue, who clearly loved herself, "about as sexy as a loaf of bread". Classic.
  • It overtook my previous recent favourite quote for the top spot. When my flatmate told me "You're funny on the train". A back-handed compliment if EVER I heard one. After all, I'm funny EVERYWHERE.
  • As usual, every tall person in the world gravitated to the spot in front of me, making it hard for me to see the stage. Except for one guy who must have been about six foot five who actually checked to make sure he WASN'T in our way. Which prompted the "giant with a conscience" comment from myself . . .
  • I am half wondering if I should change the name of my blog to PMS as, not only are they my initials, but I feel like I'm having a permanent case of it right now. I want to cry about EVERYTHING. It's not nice. I even nearly cried today when I was told I couldn't get the day after my 30th birthday off. Oh well. I've got a couple of days off before it instead, which I suppose is JUST as good. Sort of...
  • I am REALLY missing the guy. Which is upsetting me more.
  • Tonight is lasagne night - the farewell dinner for my flatmate who is moving out.
  • I'm VERY hungry.
  • I'm going to go look pleadingly at my flatmate who is MAKING the lasagne with puppy dog eyes right now and hope that it somehow makes the lasagne cook faster.
  • Oh and THIS post??? It actually made my day.

OH WELL . . .

I am literally too drunk to blog right now.

In fact, I can barely TYPE.

So no blogging for me. :(

I'll have forgotten everything I want to blog by tomorrow. But maybe not. We'll see...

In the meantime, since it IS already Tuesday here ...

One of my favourite scenes from my favourite movie of this year "(500)Days of Summer" . . .

Friday, 18 September 2009


There's some programme out there called "Kids Say The Funniest Things" or some crap like that. Kids DO say funny things. But what about the things that we ADULTS (I use "adults" in the loosest possible sense of the word obviously, unofficially I don't consider myself one) say to kids?

Particularly while under the influence . . .

Here is a picture of my ex. His name is Barney.

You recognise him, right? He's kind of a big deal after all.

Obviously, we couldn't have a lasting relationship. For one thing, he's not real. For another, he's a dinosaur. Oh, and did you notice, he's PURPLE???

(I don't want to be colourist here, but I can't date something that's purple. I mean, I'd have to make sure every outfit I ever wore didn't clash with his skin colour. Man, talk about high maintenance...)

Basically the odds were against us right from the beginning . . .

Okay, okay, you got me. I didn't actually date Barney. We didn't go to the pictures, get drunk together, meet each other's parents (can you imagine???), do each other in the back seat of a car (he wouldn't fit).

I'm totally lying.

But apparently I told my friend's kids that he was my ex-boyfriend.

My friend from uni has three adorable sons, and I went to visit her about two months ago. I'd taken along a bottle of sparkling white wine as a very belated 30th present and she had a bottle of rose in for me (either she knows me too well or has noticed that every other status update on facebook mentions me drinking rose wine). I have a strong feeling I ended up drinking most of both of those bottles. (Sorry hon!)

I don't remember telling them that Barney was my ex boyfriend. I only found out when she told me that while THEY had been very impressed and thought I had cool connections, their GRAN had been more than a little confused when they had excitedly told HER about my famous ex.


Well, it certainly explains why they seemed so attached to me when I was leaving. Obviously hoping me and Barney would rekindle our relationship and I'd bring him around to tea.

Sadly, I don't think a reunion is on the cards.

Sorry boys. :(

Thursday, 17 September 2009


Obviously, we all know that Patrick Swayze sadly passed away the other day. Now, I LOVED Patrick, but the one thing I don't have in common with a lot of Patrick Swayze lovers???

(My god, I'm not sure how to say this as it's sure to alienate me from you all, but I have to get it out there. Okay . . . deep breath . . . here goes . . . )

(PLEASE don't hate me!)

I . . . . can't stand the film "Dirty Dancing".

(Please don't look at me like that, all judgey. I wouldn't judge you if you didn't like . . . well, "Clueless"!)

In theory, I SHOULD like it. I WANTED to like it. I like most films of that ilk. Most people who list it as one of their favourite movies would then follow it with a list of all of MY favourite movies. But I just have never liked it. I can't even particularly justify why I dislike it. I just do.

But anyway, it got me thinking about the other things I don't like that other people do. Such as . . .

  • STAR WARS - I tried to watch it. I nearly died of boredom midway through the original film. I also didn't really understand what was going on. Hmmm. I didn't try again. That was when I was about 25 . . .
  • "24" - I think its completely unrealistic (yeah cos all other TV programmes are SOOOO full of realism), most of the characters annoy me, I can't be bothered waiting for nearly six months for a full day to be over, and I keep losing track of the plot.
  • THE BEATLES - most of their songs were boring. They're supremely overrated. That's all.
  • COFFEE - I would LOVE to like this, think it would really help me since I am totally not a morning person. But no. It's vile. (I also feel similarly about tea. The only time I ever drank tea, it was over-sugared and I threw up.)
  • TAKE THAT'S COMEBACK - Most of the girls of my age in the UK appear to be obsessed with the reunited man-band. I think they should have stayed back in the nineties.
  • SCARLETT JOHANSEN - so many dudes like her and I really don't get it. Perhaps because she stole Ryan Reynolds from me. Be-atch, you are going down.
I'm sure there are others, but its after midnight and my mind has stopped working. Oh well . . .

If anyone wants to share anything seemingly universally popular that they dislike themselves, please feel free. Make me feel like I'm not on my own (and that you don't hate me after the Dirty Dancing revelation. Once again, I'm sorry!) . . . PLEASE!!!! :(

Sunday, 13 September 2009


You break up with someone, what do you do? Remove them as a friend from every area of your lives, be it your social life, or social networking life?

Or do you show them how much you DON'T care by using social networking to your advantage? Even if you DO care. Too much.

Happy happy status updates, not overdoing it obviously (there's a point where you cross the line from being "happy" to just "unstably mental") - making sure people are uploading pictures of you quite patently having fun, so that it's quite obvious to your former Other Half that you are coping just fine - not mentioning the break-up at all, or how sad you are by it - getting your friends grafiti your wall with comments about pulling other guys so he realises you've moved on.

(Worrying that he will be so convinced you HAVE moved on that even if he DOES change his mind, he won't think he has a chance anymore . . .)

Acting blase if he comments on your status update. Clicking "like" on his own status update, even if you aren't completely sure you DO like it, cos how come HE can act normal when you feel like crap. Even sending him a private message (since you don't text him anymore since you deleted his number to stop the drunken texts begging him to reconsider) to wish him good luck with his next run of the play.

(Forcing yourself not to reply when he actually responds to it. Although constantly THINKING about what you COULD say to appear even MORE unbothered.)

Wondering why he's sent you about ten gifts in a week in Mafia Wars. Is it a guilt thing? An apology? Or is it just that he is so sick of getting requests, he just clicks yes to send you something and stop the messages appearing.

(Wondering why he's STOPPED sending you gifts. Perhaps because he's ran out?)

Wishing he didn't sound like he was happy. Wondering if he is putting on the self-same act, but knowing deep down that is just wishful thinking.

Reading too much into everything. But unable to stop it.

People will probably tell you to remove him as a friend. Sever all contact.

You're not ready to do that yet.

Soon . . . Perhaps.

Thursday, 10 September 2009


If you want REAL TMI Thursday stories, check out LivitLuvit, and LiLu's links to the other blogs taking part. But in the meantime, I will share the closest story I have to a TMI. That I can think of anyway.

It happened the same night I tried to bribe a gay guy to sleep with me with a caramel. If you don't know that story, look here.

After striking out with the gay guy, and getting chucked out of the office I was working in with security, I went home with another guy I was friendly with. Not like THAT. He was also gay. He lived nearer the city centre than me; at the time I lived with my parents about ten miles south of Glasgow, and I'd missed the last train home, which was at some RIDICULOUSLY early hour like 11pm. (Seriously, who goes home on a weekend at THAT time???)

Earlier on that night, when I was pissed out of my brain and saying stupid stuff, I was being really dumb and asking all the dudes what size their penises were. (Yep, even back then I was saying utterly inappropriate stuff to the strangers when under the influence.) Obviously, no one was SHOWING me. I was just CURIOUS. At this point, I'd never actually saw a lot of them - apart from on Eurotrash, where they tended to belong to porn stars or German nudists. Not exactly a good representative of the average penis, I'm sure you'd agree.

ANYWAY, we got back to my friend's house and ready for bed. He had a single bed so it was obviously going to be a bit of a squash. I wasn't worried too much though - after all, he wasn't exactly going to try and rob me of my virginity or anything like that!

As we lay there in the dark, talking rubbish as we drifted off into drunken slumber, he said to me all of a sudden.

"Close your eyes and put out your hand."

I did it.

(I know, seriously! What was I THINKING? How naive am I?)

Next thing I was touching his penis.*

His small, very soft and VERY not aroused penis.

Yes, the first penis I ever touched and it belonged to a guy who wouldn't even GET OFF on me touching it.

"Well, you wanted to know what it felt like," he protested when I protested.

Er . . . I actually DIDN'T! I had only asked if it was big.

I'm not proud of my actions after that. I told most of our mutual friends that he had done it.

He counter attacked by telling everyone that I had totally WANTED to touch it.

I denied this strenuously. Given that I was being HONEST!

He retaliated by stealing my Kylie Minogue's Greatest Hits CD and then falling out with me when I asked for it back.

Last I heard he was working in Florida.

In Disneyworld.

Oh yeah.

*I would like to add I recoiled pretty much the moment my hand and brain engaged and I realised exactly WHAT I was touching. Just in case you thought I ended up getting into it...

Wednesday, 9 September 2009


I started writing about three different posts tonight and just couldn't finish them. Lack of motivation, tiredness, being sick of missing the guy . . . who knows why? Maybe it was a mix of all three. Anyway, instead I decided to post something from my previous blog which I liked at the time, and still do - perhaps because I like the idea of reverting to my childhood, where life seemed so much simpler. So . . . let me present to you . . . my list of what silly things I used to do when I was a kid . . .

***pretend to be a pop star and record myself singing on a tape recorder. when I got to the end of the song and wanted to make it fade out in the way most eighties and nineties songs seemed to do, i would start singing more and more quietly until i eventually shut up. I could never understand why this didn't sound like the real thing.

***make a tent in the back garden using a blanket over our swing frame then invite around the kids from up the street. we would then proceed to just sit in it and look at each other and not actually DO anything.

***eat grass as if it was liquorice (I think that one was definitely just me)

***try to grow an apple tree in the back garden with the seeds out of an apple. Of course, I didn't actually plant them in earth, just scattered them over a muddy piece of concrete.

***try to make my own perfume. to do so I roamed the neighbourhood stealing petals off the flowers in people's garden, then put them in some water, with all of the cheap little perfumes I owned. Surprisingly, it did not smell too good. And my mum wasn't too happy when she realised I'd been pilfering parts of the neighbours flowers . . .

***thought that I would find out if Holy Water actually tasted any different from normal water (for the record: it didn't. It tasted worse. And not at all Holy for that matter)

***bit my sister on the leg - we weren't fighting or anything (for once) I just thought it would be fun. (She had a bruise for days!)

***kicked my little brother in the balls. same reason as above.

***was sick all over one of my teachers on the way home from a school trip. I'd been drinking cola and she was wearing a white skirt. it wasn't pretty.

***walking directly into a parking barrier on my first day at Pontins holiday camp in Blackpool, necessitating four stitches in my head, which i still have the scar from over 20 years later

Anything particularly stupid YOU did as a kid that you would like to share???

Monday, 7 September 2009


There are times in life when one doesn't mind having sore thigh muscles. You know, if you've worn them out "having fun", for example.

Yes, I'm using "having fun" as a euphemism for sex. You're fast. ;)

However, if you don't have the lovely memory of that, then you're left with sore thighs and bugger all else. Not so nice.

Moral of the story? If, once upon a time, you managed to severely hurt your thighs by trying to recreate a move* from Madonna's "Hung Up" video (and failed dismally) to the extent that you were in pain for three days afterwards . . . do not, UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES, try the same move again. EVER!!!

I don't know WHY I decided it would be a good idea to try this out again in my friend's flat on Saturday night, it was just one of those stupid drunken notions I guess. But now I can barely walk, certainly can't navigate stairs without wincing constantly with the agony of it all . . . at the risk of going a bit T.M.I. on your ass, even trying to lower myself onto the toilet seat is more than a little painful. (It's funny the things you take for granted until they hurt so much, eh?)

Plus it's a little embarrassing that people automatically assume you must have been involved in the 10K or half marathons the day before and THAT'S why you're sore. Trying to explain "No, actually I'm just an idiot who can't dance" caused a bit of a red face more than once today.

Hmmm. Perhaps I should just have lied . . .

* If you want to know the move I'm referring to, go here - it's around about 4:45 into the song . . .

Sunday, 6 September 2009


Sorry, just trying to get your attention. Did it work? ;)

********The weekend has been fairly busy. I've been drunk and drunker frequently, rarely sober. Hungover, tired, mostly happy though. I went out last night with my friend V and pulled a hot Irish man. Although he was a bit of the strong and silent type. Doesn't work for me - I don't have enough conversation to keep that one going. Great kisser though. ;)

********Today me and my sister planned to go and watch the end of the half marathon taking place in Glasgow as we knew some people running . . . but we managed to get lost on the way to Glasgow Green. Don't quite understand how we did that but there you go!

********I then had a bit of a spending spree in Poundland. Well, when every item only costs a pound and you spend eleven pounds, I think you can qualify that as a "spending spree", right? That being said, considering I was stocking up on batteries, scented candles and juice, it wasn't anything particularly amazing that I bought. I feel a strange sense of satisfaction though.

********Weirdly, almost like he knew I wasn't thinking about him too much, the guy decided to comment on my status update on Facebook this afternoon. Which of course brought him back to the forefront of my mind. But I'm getting there. Slowly but surely . . .

Friday, 4 September 2009


My facebook status update this morning read: "Paula's thought of the day; hindsight is a marvellous (yet utterly pointless) thing . . . "

I rarely come out with pearls of wisdom but I believe whole-heartedly in this one.

It's so easy for me to say "in hindsight, I should have ended it back when I first started getting the feeling he didn't have time for me." And I DID know that he didn't have time for me, not how I wanted it. I DID realise that. But I was so convinced that things COULD change that I just kept on hoping they would and not doing anything pro-active to find out what was truly going on in the meantime.

When he finally got in contact with me yesterday he told me that he thought i wanted "more out of this" than him. I don't think that was wrong of me when I was barely seeing him and only wanted to have a bit more time with him. I wasn't asking too much. He just wasn't in a position to give me it. Maybe it's just bad timing, maybe we're not well matched. Either way, whatever it is, we're over. At least for now. I have to assume that it is permanent though. He didn't try to lead me on any more than he already had. For that, at least, I have to commend him.

But back to the hindsight. Yeah, I knew all along, I saw the warning signs. But I kept on regardless. I didn't quit while I was ahead. I wanted to believe that this guy had came back into my life for a reason. A guy who I'd fancied so much in high school that I used to run into my standard grade drama class as quickly as possible, hoping there would be a spare seat next to him. Who, even I reached uni age and was getting the train home at night, I would hope would be on my train so we could talk. The one guy I fancied in high school who I never blabbed to people ABOUT fancying . . . because he was NICE to me and I didn't want to ruin that.

The guy who I randomly started talking to for eight hours on facebook nearly six months ago now who I drunkenly finally admitted that I used to like and was utterly taken aback to discover he had liked me too apparently . . .

I wanted to believe in it so much. I wanted to believe in HIM.

But . . .

I guess the point of hindsight IS its inherent pointlessness. Because if hindsight applies, then we obviously didn't heed it at the time.