DAZED #3 AND SLUT FEVER

GETTING DUMPED ...AND MOVING ON

Since my last post i've had Slut Fever. Blame the maid from my last post?

 For Example, going to the DAZED Pandamonium Party last Friday with gaffa tape 4 nipples then opening my top at every stranger camera opportunity like a sexually evangelist swan of the disco lake.
See below.

Its the photo which makes me think I am I finally over break up blues. They always take painfully ages, and however many times you try and flush your ego down the toilet the flavour stays in your mouth. No matter how many “I know its for the best deep in my heart” moments, your stuck in the house of Ego Deflato Hell.

Seven months ago my boyfriend of five years dumped me. Via email. I’m not really sure why. Probably to become gay. Who knows? But I can honestly say that I’ve handled this break-up with the least amount of dignity and grace that I possible could. Yup, I’ve taken every available opportunity to continually embarrass and shame myself, never turning down the chance to look like a total psychopath madwoman from break-up hell. In hindsight, some of the things I did were probably a bad idea. Actually, “bad idea” doesn’t even do them justice. But being the nice and thoughtful person that I am, I’ve made a list of some of my regrettable actions, just incase you ever find yourself in my dumped position and want to know what to avoid avoid AVIOD!~

Wicca
For some reason, weird, annoying fat-girl witchcraft seems like an appropriate thing to get into after you’ve been dumped. Well, it did for me anyway. I tried it all—rocking the blackish lipstick, making voodoo dolls of my ex and then cutting off their little voodoo penises, holding weird, masturbation rituals with the purpose of making my ex fall back in love with me. Nothing worked. Not to mention I wasted the first two months of our break-up (AKA prime rebound-fuck time) looking like a loser high school emo gangster with an unhealthy obsession with ADIDAS. 

Shameless Begging
I have no shame. Because of this, after the break up up with me I had no qualms about texts, emails and every other form of social hacking, whilst involving as many people as I possibly could.
He normally just slammed the interweb door in my face (Apparently desperation isn’t sexy- whatever), but this didn’t discourage me. At one point I actually announced, “I’m PREGNANT YOU FUCK.” **Despair.

False Pregnancy

This is just a bad idea all around. Did texting the ex up at random and cheerfully stating, “Hey! I’m pregnant! Is it cool with you if I name our first born child Mötley Crüe?” get me some of the much needed attention I so desperately desired? No.

Break-up Sex

In my deluded head, break-up sex seemed like a free ticket to an alternate sex universe where all the horrible, disgusting, filthy sex moves I was too scared to pull during our relationship were now totally up for grabs. And realistically, I was sort of right. However, if at all possible, you should try to refrain from break-up sex. You end up getting back together, and then you have to break up again. And suddenly, without realizing it, your in the “pretend break up sex area”, which sucks even more.

Getting Crushes on High Profile Celebrities in London

We live with Celebrities. It's London.  Get a crush on one and its bound to send you bonkers, send you friends bonkers,  and set a new wave of internet staIking to a crashing new scale of +1000ILOVEYOU. The internet is bonkers forever and so are you . This kinda suckle lover love is super convienent and weeeeeeee -  you're off! 

Everything's suddenly sorted because you have a new lover, totally accessible through the internet. You  develop your own GPS of there whereabouts habits (what a coincidence THERE HE IS RIGHT NOW) and most importantly, no ones queationing your actions, least of all your new lover. 

Sounds fun? Yes. 

Good thing to do? No. 

Picking a complete stranger who is super famous, falling in love with him and making him the soul goal of my entire life seemed cool or edgy or whatever. He's hot, I'm hot, he's been checking me out, lets get it on etc... A distraction and a constant planation. If your lucky (like me), you will break into his party, and he will break you toe. Which is cool, because I LOVE HIM.... But then you think you're lucky when you bump into them in a convienience store where instead of you getting the attention you deserve(i.e. riding of into the sunset), they are as rude as a pig. 

In the end, its not really a celebrity crush, its pretend sleeping with an internet stranger, and it's not a good look. 
Alas, I love you, but I will never have you.

Don’t Force it.
Love is bullshit and these things take time. Letting your friends drag you out and trying to force you to “get laid and move on”, is a petty ego mistake made by us all. Actually, makes you feel or the more worthless, whether you come home empty handed or not. Having someone whisper, 

“ You have to meet him. He’s kinda perf. For you. He seems almost 100 % crazy, and he dresses like a mix between Prince, a personal style blogger, and an outdated gay sterotype” does NOT help.  

Whatever. Love is bullshit anyways.
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