The Wrong Impression

Generally, I am a very friendly person.

I can strike up conversations with strangers anytime, anywhere.

Perhaps I also flirt naturally without realising it.

This has gotten me into a bit of a pickle recently.

I was out running errands at this godforsaken shopping mall near where I live one day, and decided to stop and have some lunch at the food court before my next appointment. I got a sandwich as everything else on offer was fast food and fried chicken and stuff.

I took my little sandwich and managed to find a table in the crowded food hall. A few seconds after I sat down, the table next to me was cleared and this guy sat down in the seat facing me.

We made eye contact and smiled. I felt awkward not saying anything to him, though. It’s kind of weird, in my opinion, the way people pretend they don’t see each other when they’re in public. You know? Like you’d be at a restaurant on your own and basically ignore the other person seated at the table next to you because you don’t want to get caught up in an inane conversation with someone you probably won’t ever see again.

Usually, that’s my MO, too. But this time, I felt… I don’t know. Sociable.

“Got a lot of shopping done?” I asked, nodding at his bags.

He smiled. “Yes! I bought a few things for myself – taking advantage of the massive sales that are on.”

“Awesome. What did you buy?”

And so on.

By the end of it, I found out he was an engineer, he had just moved out here a few months ago, and lived on his own. He was also from the same hometown as Phil – what a coincidence! I got excited as I conjured up images of him and Phil meeting and hanging out and becoming friends. Absolutely, and purely, innocent and well-meaning.

I told him he was from the same place as Phil and that they should meet. I was so excited I asked for his contact number so we could all “hang out”. I talked a LOT about my boyfriend Phil. When we exchanged numbers it was time for me to run to my next appointment so I said farewell and went on my way.

I received a normal text message from him (let’s call him Duncan) a couple of days later:

“Hey, how are you? Hope you have a nice day :) “

I replied: “Hi Duncan! I’m well, just at the studio right now. How are you? How are the new shoes you bought that day?”

“I am well too. Just did a bit of grocery shopping. I am enjoying walking around in my new shoes :) What are you up to these days?”

I didn’t reply because I was occupied and have a bad habit of forgetting to answer messages.

The next day, he sends me this:

“Hey hotstuff! You never got back to me ;) I actually wanted to ask you if you might be free to catch up again one of these days? Have a very nice day today. Duncan.”

Hotstuff?

At this stage I hadn’t yet told Phil about him because I had other priorities and was planning on bringing it up and seeing what Phil had to say, if he was interested in catching up with this guy, or not.

Anyway, I decided upon seeing the word “hotstuff” that it was time to tell Phil. So I told him the story and showed him the text. I didn’t do this to a) make him jealous, or b) get Duncan in trouble, or even c) to boost my own ego. I just felt that if I wasn’t honest about this, and Phil happened to see the text message*, it would seem very fishy indeed, even if I wasn’t doing anything intentionally fishy.

* Phil and I often borrow each other’s cell phones and stuff, and I just got a new phone and often shove it in his face when I’ve got a problem with it – I’m new to super sophisticated smartphones.

When Phil saw it, he was a little gobsmacked, but remained calm. He wasn’t angry at all but we had a discussion where he asked me why I felt the need to take the guy’s number, and highlighted the fact that I had asked for it. He kept telling me he wasn’t jealous and that I was free to make friends with anyone I wanted, guy or girl, but that perhaps I inadvertently flirted with this Duncan dude, and despite the fact that I mentioned Phil in every sentence, Duncan might have taken the flirtatious signals I was sending to mean I was still game.

Hmm.

He has a point – a good one, too. I suppose my giant smile and friendly manner could be mistaken for flirting, or maybe I was flirting without realising it. I definitely did not mean to. I mean, at the end of the day, what part of “my boyfriend is from the same town!” and “my boyfriend this, my boyfriend that” equals “I want you”?

Anyway. Phil told me I could go and meet with Duncan for coffee or whatever I wanted, he wouldn’t stop me, he trusts me, and he’s not jealous… he’s just worried about Duncan because “you don’t really know him and you don’t know what his intentions are.”

True.

I replied Duncan’s text message with something to this effect:
“Hi Duncan, sorry I didn’t reply you sooner, I was really busy with work. Hey listen, I don’t think you should call me ‘hotstuff’, because I have a boyfriend and it’s not appropriate. My boyfriend and I are really friendly outgoing people and enjoy making friends, which is why I asked for your contact details so we can all stay in touch as friends, since you guys are from the same town and all.”

His reply was:
“Hey there, sorry I didn’t mean anything by it, it was just a compliment because you’re really pretty and friendly and nice. I hope you didn’t think I meant it in another way. I like making friends too, we should definitely catch up for coffee or something.”

Me:
“Ok, but I really don’t think you should say that I’m really pretty and all because it gives the wrong impression.”

Him:
“Ok :) from now on I will call you by your name, S.S. Hope you’re having a wonderful day and see you soon hopefully!”

No mention of catching up with both me and Phil, but ok.

Anyway he messages on and off the next few days and I reply as seldom as is possible without seeming rude, but… I can see it sets Phil on edge a bit. Just a bit. I feel guilty. Phil and I go for our evening jog and decide to devote the whole hour of conversation to this topic. He is still incredibly diplomatic and mature and giving of the benefit of the doubt, but he also says to me, “look, I think it’s great you want to make more friends and all, but as for me, I really don’t need more friends, I know loads of people from the same town, and frankly I’m too busy to make more friends, especially someone like this guy who calls you ‘hotstuff’ and all when he should know that you’re taken… I mean maybe I’m old-school or out of touch with the latest lingo and all, but I don’t know too many guys who would call girls who are just friends ‘hotstuff’ unless it was a joke, and that goes for girls they’ve just met as well, unless they were interested they would not use words like that.”

So I decided, heck, I had a good first impression of Duncan but the follow-up has been pretty poor. Phil is more important to me, and honestly some of the messages Duncan had been sending me, while devoid of words like “hotstuff”, were creeping me out a little. I decided I will do what I used to do when I was a teenager (ok, and in my early 20s) and didn’t know how to get rid of guys – ignore him.

So far, so good. It’s been 3 days since his last text and I haven’t responded, so… fingers crossed he disappears!

2012 already?

I can’t believe it’s 2012 already.

So much time and so little accomplished.

Well, I guess I can look at it that way, or…

… remember the fact that I had a very big, scary and complicated goal for myself over a year ago, which was to enter into a committed relationship with a man who would GET me, understand me, complement (and compliment) me, someone I could talk to and connect with on an intellectual level as well as connect with on a sexual level.

Well, I found him, didn’t I?

And after over a year of a thrilling rollercoaster ride, we have found our comfortable little nook together. And it’s good :)

I’ve Missed You.

I have thought about you a lot.

Through the good times, and the bad.

Yes, my blog, I am sorry I have neglected you. But as with other things in life, when your attention is grabbed and demanded by one (or two) important facets of your life, the rest suffer. And you, my blog, have been the biggest loser of all. I’m sorry.

And I’m sorry to anyone who reads this. Thank you for reading me, still.

This is NOT a goodbye post, though it sure started out sounding that way.

It’s just that a lot has happened since the last post. I mean, a lot.

Don’t worry – Phil and I are together still and more in love than ever. We have been through good times and bad and come through stronger. Things are going really well in our relationship, and certain issues that used to bug me (albeit little ones) seemed to have disappeared, due to Phil’s understanding nature and both of our willingness(es) to compromise.

Phil used to to annoy me in bed by bringing his tablet and reading work emails before going to bed or watching YouTube videos to unwind before closing his eyes. I, on the other hand, need complete and utter quiet and darkness in order to fall asleep (unless I am just exhausted). We had little squabbles about it, and finally I gave up. He just didn’t seem willing to relent; he told me I’m too sensitive. No, hypersensitive is the word he used. I asked him, why can’t you read the emails/news/view the videos in your study, then only come to bed when you’re good and ready? The arguments only ended when I threw my arms up and said, fine, whatever. I thought I was doomed to the annoying white light and white noise.

Then, out of the blue, without a word, he just stopped doing it.

And, likewise, I quit bugging him about his coming to bed at 5 am every morning and getting up at 1 or 2 pm. I used to hate it: I am by no means a morning person, BUT I feel like if half the day is gone before we get up and do stuff, it’s such a waste, and a wave of melancholy washes over me. It’s weird, but it depresses me if we start the day after 12 noon. However, I have gotten used to it and found ways to occupy myself while he snoozed: I went to the shops, read a book, did the chores, hung out with my friends, etc. So he has been equally happy and grateful for this compromise on my end, too.

Anyway, so one really big thing that’s happened is: I moved in with Phil.

It was the natural thing to do. I was practically living here anyway for the last 5-6 months, and having to split my time, clothes, bills, and everything was getting too much for me to handle. I figured, if I am spending all this time here, why are we not just living together? My old place was seriously becoming like a storage facility rather than a home. Phil had some reservations about us moving in, not because he was worried about us and how we’d do, but because of some issues with his parents and family and basically not wanting them to know. He just does not like telling them anything about his private life.

On the other hand, he told all his close friends we’ve moved in, and a good friend of his, Tom, actually said, “It’s nice to see the place is under new management!” as a joke. We jokingly call Phil’s (and now, my) house The Ritz. Tom joked that it gained a star since I moved in. It’s not that it’s a grand mansion or anything; it is in fact a humble home, but it is lovely, spacious, clean and not old and moldy like the one I used to live in.

So the moving in has been good. Nothing has changed except our commitment to each other and our home. I am much more willing when I’m doing chores, compared to before when I had the niggling voice in my head that constantly chanted, “This isn’t even your home” and put me in a mood at times. Now, I think of it as MY home, OUR home, and sometimes, this might sound completely gross to some of you, but sometimes I love just staying in a sprucing up the place with Phil. We’ve planted a lovely little rose garden and put in a pond with some little fishes. Frogs hang out there, which I love. Snails too, which I hate.

Other than that, I’ve been busy at Uni, struggling to hand in assignments and study for exams before I finish this year’s course. It was a year-long course and now I have extra qualifications to help me get a better job.

My back’s been good for the most part, except for a few days in October when I started having the angry feelings about The Prude again and wanting to track him down and stab him in the face.

I can be a real bitch when I’m pissed off.

Phil and I still have awesome sex, however sadly it had become a once or twice weekly thing (if that) due to both our hectic schedules. Phil has some international launches for his products and services coming up that have his nerves frayed. He is sleep deprived most of the time from working hard, so I try to help him where I can.

All in all, we make a good team.

I have to say, I have been in love – even obsessed – before, but I never had this feeling that I have with him. I love him, and have a deep confidence for the person he is. Basically, I feel like I am finally with a winner. It’s true; in a way, it’s good… but it a way, it’s sad that I dated all those losers for all those years.

As George Michael says…

“Let’s go outside!”

This is something I’ve been meaning to post for about 2 months.

You know, when you’re in a relationship where you see each other everyday and pretty much fuck 2 or 3 times a day for months and months, there is a danger of it becoming a bit… routine.

There’s nothing wrong with routine. It’s nice, predictable, you know what you want and how you want it, and you achieve a level of satisfaction that you’re familiar and happy with.

But sometimes, you gotta change it up, when you can.

Being the minx that I am, it has always been my job to take on the role of instigator. Back in February when Phil and I had sex in the car, on the beach (kill two birds with one stone, why don’t you), it was, of course, my idea. Leading up to that event was the whole episode of ‘vehicular fellatio’ that I tortured Phil with until he couldn’t take it and had to have me at the beach, in the car, with the full moon totally illuminating and highlighting our frantic bodies, while other people in caravans parked nearby no doubt got more than an eyeful.

So, naturally as time went by, I started scheming again. Ooh, where next? I’d been bugging Phil to go to this park near the house I used to live in. It has these observation towers that would be perfect for an outdoors fuck, on a higher level and with a lovely view of the river and city skyline.

Yes. I have bugged and bugged, but because it’s kinda out of the way, we have YET to go there.

One night, when trying to be romantic and make up for not spending time with me, Phil took me for a drive to the hills, about 45 minutes away. These hills are famous for having a beautiful view of the city and surrounding areas, at night. The hills are partly in a nature reserve/national park, and obviously a great location for amorous couples. So we drove and found a good spot to park, and sat in the car talking, holding hands, looking at the view – very conservative, 1950s couples-type activities. I finally lunge at him and we make out, hot and heavy. I unbutton his pants and suck his rock-hard dick.

But then… a cop car drives up and slows down as it passes us. Luckily we have a good vantage point and can see any cars that may creep up on us from behind (it is one-way up on the popular, zig-zaggy part of the hills). So I have well and truly stopped fellating him by the time they show up.

They greet us politely and ask how we are. Phil responds pleasantly to them and adds, “Just spending some quality time with the lady.” The cops look over at me, smile knowingly, say “Right-o,” and drive on.

As soon as they leave, I get this undeniable urge to fuck him outside while looking at the view. Passers-by be damned. Once I get this kind of thing into my head, there’s just no way to get me to stop thinking about it, except to go ahead and do it.

I manage to beg him to come outside with me and do me doggy-style. We get out of the car, and I position myself and pull my jeans down. He is still incredulous, as though he just didn’t believe I would want to go through with it. It is basically pitch black darkness with just the distant lights of the city twinkling sexily at us.

“Are you sure? What if someone sees us? S.S.!! Come on.”

“If someone’s coming, we’ll see them waaay before they see us. Fuck me, baby.”

He fucks me. Hard. I can barely contain my moans. But I must, because you never know who is lurking around in the bushes. I have a brief fantasy of being filmed on someone’s mobile phone and the video getting sent around on the internet.

I am snapped out of the fantasy by distant car headlights, coming our way. “Come on!” I giggle, pulling away from him and pulling my jeans up. I jump into the car first, with him sheepishly following behind.

The car approaches. We hold our breath and try to look ‘serious’ as they pass us by. We wait a few seconds before dissolving in a fit of giggles (yes, Phil does giggle sometimes!). Then Phil looks like he’s about to start the car and head off. “What are you doing?” I ask.

“What do you mean?”

“Let’s go back outside!”

“Are you serious??”

I don’t answer, I just go, position myself, jeans pulled down, bum awaiting the warmth of his hands.

And we go at it again.

Another car approaches. We run back to the car.

Lather, rinse, repeat.

All in all, a very exciting and fun foray into outdoor, high-altitude fucking.

Done and Dusted

Once again, Phil and I somehow ended up talking (arguing) about the Julie thing. It just came up through a regular, random conversation, where he was insisting that he will HAVE to, at some point in the future, tell her I hate her.

Honestly, I feel that, even though I often say it to myself (“Ugh, I hate her!”), I don’t actually hate her. I just dislike her very much.

So I just got tired of talking about this annoying person, and I turned to Phil and said, “You know what? If you wanna tell her I hate her, go ahead. Just tell her. I really, honestly, don’t give a damn anymore. Just do it.”

That shut him up, all right. ;)

* Please note: the incidents this post describes happened nearly 2 months ago. I have just been totally slack in updating this blog :(

The Gap

Hello :)

I can’t believe I am averaging one post a month now. This is unacceptable!

But let me explain. I have been busy with school and work (what else), but worse still, I have been travelling a lot too, and missing classes and having work pile up on me like nobody’s business.

I travelled to my hometown because my sister is pregnant and there were some milestone birthdays to be celebrated in the extended family as well, and I couldn’t handle the not-so-subtle guilt trips my mum is famous for laying on me. So, I went.

It was lovely, I ate a lot, felt my sister’s baby kick through her swollen belly, watched people I knew when I was young get yet another year older.

Now I am back and facing a pile of work.

Phil is out of town for work and we haven’t seen each other in two weeks. I am pretty damn horny. I am ready to mount him the second I see him again. Which will be in 5 days. I’m travelling interstate to hang out with him before coming back together at the end of September.

Busy, busy, bee. And trying to ignore the panic that’s mounting from the lack of time and amount of work that is demanding my attention.

But I felt like I couldn’t wait a second longer to post something here. Especially when I logged in and saw some comments that were pending approval (thank you, Hedone! xoxo).

Anyways, I shall post updates in separate entries. For now, hello again! :)

Dreams of Teachers Past

Being with Phil has been one of the best things to happen to me in years.

I never dreamt I would meet such a kind, smart, generous, funny not to mention HOT man who would love me and accept me for who I am. I mean, who here remembers how only a year ago I was lamenting the fact that I would never meet someone who would ‘get’ me and accept me, flaws and all?

Well, I have found him.

He is far from perfect himself, but as close to perfection as I have ever experienced… does that make sense? We just complement each other, finish each other’s thoughts and sentences (in a freakish but kinda awesome way), and he is the yin to my yang. Or whichever is the positive to the more negative (as I tend to be a negative person).

So why did I have a sexy dream about the Teacher a few nights ago? It was so real, so vivid.

You remember the Teacher, right? I went to see him in Japan in April last year, we fucked, I left, that was it. He didn’t throw me a friggin’ bone (pardon the pun) nor did he entertain or pick up on my not-so-subtle hints about missing him and stuff. It broke my heart a little but I moved on because I think deep down, I knew it wouldn’t work.

The Teacher was one of those people that you meet and go, wow! This person could be my twin. The male version of me. It was uncanny. We had the same thoughts and political leanings, scoffing at the same blown-up issues in the media, with the same passion for writing fiction, the same dark, sarcastic sense of humour. The SAME.

But I guess what I ultimately needed was not more of the same, but someone who can help me grow as a person. Someone who was of the same spirit as me but made of a different substance. I don’t know how else to put it, but Phil is that someone for me. Even though he is not like my twin, our personalities are as different as day and night… inside, our hearts and mind are in sync. I know it sounds like a load of bull and honestly I cringed a little when I wrote that, but it’s the truth. We offer each other something MORE, not MORE of something.

With the Teacher, we fed off each other’s negativity and often he made me feel really pessimistic about everything. And also made me feel that the second I start showing optimism and positivity and faith in something, that it was a sign that I was missing a few brain cells. It was basically his mantra that happy people were ignorant and stupid.

I used to be like that. But I’ve changed. I’ve seen things from another viewpoint and I’ve been able to reconcile and make my own judgements on things.

Anyway. I veered a little off-course there. I wanted to tell you about my dream. But I need to give you some background on it, too.

You see, it wasn’t just a random dream that happened for god knows what reason.

A couple of days before the dream, the Teacher emails me, completely out of the blue. It turns out the email was a reply to one I’d sent him in April LAST YEAR after I returned from Japan, which he had never replied. His email contained an apology for getting to it so late, that he only checks that email account about once a year and didn’t realise I’d sent him a mail. He replied to things I forgot I’d even asked him. It was really strange. I had to go back and read what I’d originally written to even understand what the hell was going on.

Anyway, at the time I wasn’t too affected by the email. But later on I got to thinking about it. What the hell prompted him to reply to an email sent over a year ago? Clearly it was a long-forgotten thing for me. Then I remembered I had blogged and posted something on Facebook about how I was having one of those “What was I thinking?” moments when thinking about the guys in my past. He’d seen the post and sent me a message asking if it was about him and that he felt paranoid and I’d said, no, of course not (but it actually was about him, among other men in my past).

So a day after that incident, he emails me, and a few days later, I dream about him.

In this dream I am back in Japan, visiting him. Phil does not factor in the dream at all (what the…?). I am hanging out with the Teacher and we’re having drinks and stuff… and being physical like hugging and playfully swatting each other and so on.. kind of how we’d acted when I was there. Places and things were different, but the Teacher and I were the same as before.

Then in my dream he asked me “Are you trying to get me into bed??” to which I laughed in reply, avoiding the question. Then he grabbed me around my waist and said “Oh alright, come on, you!” and we went back to his apartment and fucked.

You can imagine when I woke up, I was a tad confused. Here I was, sleeping in a warm bed, with Phil’s loving arms around me, him snoring softly into my ear. And I’d dreamt about fucking an ex? Not even an ex really… a fling.

I realised I felt turned on and horny, then immediately lapsed into guilt. I know that if Phil had dreams like that and I knew about them, I would feel so jealous and insecure (because I’m a little messed up like that). What did it mean that I dreamt that? Was it my brain’s way of having closure, because I never really got closure from the Teacher, we just sort of drifted in and out of touch? What? Was it a sign from my subconscious that I was not over him completely? Or that I wasn’t really getting what I needed from Phil? Why in god’s name would I dream about ANYone else when Phil is all I want and need?

Anyone?