London

So, it's been a little month since I last blogged. I'm not much for apologising so that's not going to happen, but hey, it's the thought that counts, right?

I do have a decent excuse though, I've been busy doing a large variety of things such as:

• going to 6 job interviews
• and getting 10 job offers (even I was impressed at that)
• being chatted up by one of many interviewers
• getting a brazillian wax (not as bad as expected and totally worth it)
• finding a cheap and decent room in London
• a couple of exams
• seeing friends and one crap film
• doctors re sense of smell
• Sambuca. Gone after one shot. Really can't handle my drink
• Moving to London
• Starting a new job (including a 48 hour period where I work 24 hours and commute for 4. Every week)

So you know, it's not like I've just been lazing in bed reading free newspapers and eating Muller rice under a double duvet. I've done other stuff too.

For one of my interviews I was waiting in the dining room and they had a huge tv on the wall showing a film called "Two Mothers for Zachary" - based on a true story about a woman and her lover who fight for the rights to keep their son against the woman's mother. I'm sitting watching it and my interviewer walks in. A gorgeous voluptuous butch. Short black hair and glasses in a suit. She introduces herself and we go and start the interview. She uses her hands an insane amount while she's talking and when she apologises for it, I tell her not to worry and that I use my hands all the time. She catches my eye and says "I'll bet you do..." I raise an eyebrow and let it drop. Not only was she flirting with me during the interview, but she offered me two positions and set me up with another interview when I told her I would need more hours. I'm never sure what gets me job when my interviewer fancies me. I honestly prefer to get a job on merit as opposed to cleavage. She also told me I should give her a call or drop into her branch once I'd got settled in London. I haven't yet.

For the waxing I went with Jenna. We both took pain killers about a half hour before we were due to go under. Jenna especially, but really both of us were damn nervous. Jenna went first, I held her hand. Each appointment had half an hour set aside. Luckily we were both done in about 20 minutes. It's been about a month now and I could do with a do over, so I'm looking forward to that. (No, I really am.)

The doctors involved anaesthetic spray up my nose which numbed my throat and made me think I was continually about to vomit and an LED light going up my nose which gave me giggles something awful. Apparently I'm ticklish up my nose. Who knew?

On my last night before I moved, I went to the pub with a whole group of friends. I chatted up a couple of people, got a couple of numbers so I'll have someone to do when I head home. Then the aforementioned friends decided I should get absolutely rat assed as it was my last night out. Unfortunately they didn't realise that one shot of sambuca would do that. The angry scotsman said it was like someone had given an 8 year old alcohol. That was probably pretty accurate  to be honest. And I really didn't need the second shot. All in all though, a top night, so good to see everyone before I shot off to London.

I absolutely love my new job. There's quite a bit to learn at the moment, but I've only been there a week and I'm already half way through. My section manager has his work cut out though, because not only are checkouts after me, chilled and dry goods want a look in too. My assistant section manager on fresh is a really cool guy, who's already offered that I should do projects of some sort because he sensed I'd get bored once I was done learning on counters. Both my asm on fresh and my sm on counters are most certainly more than a little bit fuck-able. As well as this there's plenty of other eye candy about including one guy who I was introduced to on my first day. The guy who was showing me around said to a counter guy "this is the new starter." Counter guy said "I'm Counter Guy" and I said "I'm Iris." He looked me up and down for a fraction of a second and said "I'm yours." It was very smooth and I pass the time eyeing him up. Too bad I don't sleep with people at work. As Sara says, London's a big place, I'm sure you can find people you don't work with to fuck.

Birthday Celebrations

Earlier this month was JJ's birthday and we were due to go out. However due to JJ being somewhat ill, we called it a night in instead which both I and Jenna were pretty pleased about. We chilled out all evening and just generally had a really nice time. I miss just hanging out with these guys, we always have so much fun. Times change though.

Southampton

I went to stay with the recently single Gif. Sex was on the table and we both knew it. We get on incredibly well. When I'm with him I always have so much fun. I also find him incredibly attractive: lean, tall, dark hair that always sits just right, full lips and such good cheekbones.

But it didn't quite work out like either of us had expected. I'm still not entirely sure what happened, but  I couldn't sleep with him. We kissed and my stomach dropped. I felt like I was committing to him. I guess I see him as a relationship guy and I just didn't know what to make of it. It just wasn't right. We stopped. It was pretty awkward.

That aside I had a good night out. watched a good episode of the moomins (trippy shit, that), obliterated a jar of gurkins, a watermelon and a packet of sugar puffs. I also did have fun. I didn't have quite the kind of fun that I'd expected to have, but I did have a great time with him. It's a damn shame though, because I still think he's absolutely gorgeous. Maybe sometime in the future, who knows?

A Moment

My lips touched her skin and my tongue ran across her collarbone. I grabbed hold of her skin with my teeth and bit down until she gasped. I want to know that she felt me.

Recent Events

Recent events have included a shopping trip with a very good friend of mine who bought me several earrings (all odds, about 20) which I now wear constantly. Except for at work, because they're funny about jewellery. Had drinks in town with the Scottish Racist, Sara, J, JJ, the friend who bought me earrings who I'm gonna call Jenna on here because I like the name alongside numerous other unnamed people. It was a good night. I bumped into some of the people from work which was pretty good. I terrified one because I have more than enough information to wreck his relationship and he knows it, which is normally fine, but this time he had his girlfriend with him. I was on my best behaviour. I worked my first night shift which I loved, the hours (10pm to 7am) suit me really well and I just generally enjoy eating between half 12 and half one and again at 3.30 in the morning. A new lesbian drama has started on BBC3 called Lip service, try and catch the first episode on iplayer, it aired last night and it is so, so sexy. I have done some (note, a very small amount) revision and had a meeting at school in regards to resits and  my future. I also went round Lucifers house early last week to try and figure out what to do in that regard. As in my future, because as it stands and as it has stood for quite some time, I actually hate German as a subject. I love the culture, the literature, the music, the people, and even the language, but actually learning it, makes me sick. At least I realised this now and not after I'd started doing German at university.

It does somehow put my plans into jeopardy a little. Short term I was doing a German resit (from which  I have withdrawn) and going to Germany over the winter, plans which have now changed to going to London. Nothing is finalised, but I am looking at rooms and will shortly be contacting work about a transfer to a London branch, any London branch. I know they won't be too hot on the idea, but at least they'd be keeping me within the business. When I was round Lucifer's we talked about travel and other courses. There aren't really any courses I want to do and travelling is a means of getting from A to B. It's not a voyage of self discovery, it's hassle. So that definitely wasn't for me. We did find some travel that appealed a little more than that, but when it came to it, I wasn't sure I really wanted it. Finally I've got a plan shaping up. If I can't get transferred with work I'll only stay in London for 3 months or so and then go visit people and get some temp work and go pride hopping, but if I get permanent work, I think I'll stay in London longer. I'll still visit people, but I'll have a London base. I'll still quit and go pride hopping over the summer. I might do a management degree, I might not, but I'll apply this year regardless.

So despite having something of a plan, it's still a little blurry round the edges. I don't always know what to make of it or where I'm going which is pretty unusual for me, but it's alright. I'm getting there.

A Week to Remember

Yesterday I got back from Cardiff where I'd been staying with Sara for a few days. I arrived at 7.30 on Wednesday and we had Burgerking for dinner. It was lovely. We went out with some of the LGBT representatives that night to a couple of the gay bars and clubs which was nice. It was Sara's freshers, so I let her get on with it and I made friends of my own. I danced and chatted and generally had a good night. We got in really early (like half one) because people had things to do. Sara got up at some stupid hour the next morning and spent almost 2 hours trying to wake me up. I slept until half 11. She left at half 9. Apparently she'd been shaking me violently, sending me texts, calling me, poking my face, pulling the duvet off me (I hit her when she did that) and all kinds. I had a lovely snooze.

We went to a society fair later that day and went shopping. Went to this wicked market and I brought  fruit (plums, nectarines, watermelon) and nuts. I'm a huge fan of nuts and we can't bring them home due to a severe allergy of the younger sibling, so whenever I'm away, I munch as many as I can. We also stopped at Ann Summers and I purchased a couple of products, which I'll review when I get a bit of time. That night we decided we were gonna stay in, but by 11, we'd changed our minds and went out. Turns out, gay scene in Cardiff is pretty non existent which wasn't what I'd expected. The city has 42 gay venues, but whatever. The following morning Sara spent an hour and a half trying to wake me. I'd set an alarm on my phone. She didn't wake me. The alarm did. Typical, right? Anyway, I hit the shops again, I'd got myself some clothes to customize, so I went to coffee shop and got on with the cutting. When I was done, I moved and sat over by the window. It was pissing it down and there were as many umbrellas as there were people. I grabbed a handful of napkins and started sketching. By the time Sara caught up with me, I'd drawn 20 odd umbrellas in various states of open and shut, and of various shapes. While I'd been drawing, I'd placed each used napkin next to me and I'd had several people come up to the window and just stare in at my "art." It passed the time just fine. Sara and I headed up to the second part of the society fair and the first thing we did was catch up with the LGBT group. I had acquired another Ann Summers bag and these people are like a magnet to it. One girl saw me, stopped dead and said "Ann Summers bag..?" and started day dreaming.

We took a look around the society fair (I scared the economists by turning their tame sex/econ jokes into something much more filthy) and headed home where I packed my stuff together and left for the train station, watermelon in tow. The last time I was at that train station I'd been travelling for 7 hours and I was talking to this gorgeous art girl, who was a little bit paranoid. As in, doesn't trust the bank and thus has no bank account. Yes, really. But like I said, gorgeous, so I'll overlook a minor flaw like severe paranoia. And it was nice to have some company, because I had travel from reasonably far up north. I'd been to see Alix.

I'd arrived on the Monday around midday and I met her family and some friends of hers. I'd (fairly arrogantly) assumed I wouldn't need pyjamas - I'm not a big fan at the best of times - turns out I was right. We basically didn't leave the bedroom. Except when we did it in the other bedroom, on the sofa or in the kitchen. The girl knows how to use her hands, she's fucking good. She made me louder than anyone else has. There were builders next door who actually stopped working each time we fucked and just listened in instead. It's a good thing I'm an exhibitionist. And not just because of the builders, one of her friends got very close to walking in on me, but mostly because I like giving things out a little rough. You know the kind of thing, nails down skin, fingers pulling stuck in hair, teeth biting. Hard. It makes me even hotter than vanilla, it's mostly a dominance thing, and as it happens Alix is more than happy to receive. She's also good for a bit of bondage, but we;re new to this, so I keep it strictly cuffs. Point is, by Monday 3am, she gave up sharing a bed with me (I'm space greedy and it was a single), but she was covered in bite marks and scratches all over the shoulders, chest and back. She carried it off so well too.

She also insisted on showing it off to every one we met. EVERY ONE includes friends, the pub landlord, the guys at her work, her brothers (yes really). The lot. She loved the shock on their faces, and the disbelief when they were told the cute, polite blonde girl had done it. And so did I. I loved that she was showing off my battle wounds, it gives me so much pleasure because I don't get battle wounds of my own. Nothing to show off, just stories to tell. Which isn't so bad either I suppose.

We went out to the pub both nights I was there and we did see friends, but those three days consisted almost entirely of hot, slightly filthy, really great sex. We have chemistry. I've already been told I'm welcome up any time I want. Which is a good invitation to have. And I do like to make sure I don't leave any part of me out of practice.

Vomit

I recently went out with a group of friends, two of whom I adore, the rest stir something between indifference and loathing inside me. I don't really feel it when they stir indifference. We started out in a club which I like a lot, but it was decided that this location was shit and should be exchanged for somewhere where you can't do a whole lot but drink. Which isn't that fun for me. I do on occasion drink, but I was starting work at 8 the next morning and wasn't really feeling it.

After what seemed like an eternity, I ditched them. I went back to the club on my own and they carried on drinking. Later they went to one of those clubs that's more  about fake tan, fake hair and fake eyelashes than anything else and all the girls spent the night fighting off ethnic minorities. I'm not sure why these guys are so much worse than white guys, but Indian guys in particular (despite the fact that they are probably fluent in English and most of them have probably never been out of the UK), just don't seem to grasp the meaning of 'no'. Or 'fuck off'. Or even the international sign language of that beautiful middle finger.

I had a wicked time. I felt the bass run in my blood and it shook me to the core. I love to let the rhythm take me. I did. I met some guys from work, I lost them, found them again. I made a few friends of my own. I was chatting to this girl with a raw red mohawk, ivory skin and an arm full of tattoos. I got a hell of a lesbian vibe from her, but I know in these kinds of clubs people can get really funny about these things if they're not actually gay. I left her be and saw her chatting to a guy with a black plug and blonde hair for quite a while. I caught him on the dance floor and asked him if she liked girls. I was informed that he had no idea because he'd only met her that night. I spotted another guy who she'd been chatting to. This time I was informed that she did like girls, but her girlfriend wouldn't appreciate me taking that any further. I left her alone. Later on a caught up with the guy with the black plugs. He seemed cool, we had a laugh.

I was dancing with some work friends when one of the aforementioned Indian guys came up to one of the girls from work and she attempted to get rid of him with aforementioned sign language. He didn't take a hint. I asked her (by which I mean I screamed into her ear because that's really all you can do in a club) if she wanted me to get rid of him. She did. I butched up to look as intimidating as possible (not easily achieved in a short dress and 6 inch heels) and sneered in his face to leave my fucking girlfriend alone or I'd make sure he'd have to crawl out of here. He took a hint. Albeit a blunt one. We carried on dancing until 3. I went outside and met 3 of the friends I'd ditched earlier to get a cab home.

We got in the cab and the shortest of the girls said she didn't feel very well. The taxi driver started panicking about his car, We rolled down the window. Suddenly one of the guys put his head out the window and threw up all down the side of the car. He pulled his head in and almost got it out in time to throw up again. Almost. We stopped and he threw up at the roadside. Nice. I was not impressed. The driver was being nice enough about it, but there was something about him I didn't like. Just trying too hard to be nice and good and honest, made me feel like he was nasty on the inside. We just about made it into our town when the girl in the middle leant out the window and threw up. She kept it outside the car. Her and the guy were going to the same place (they're a couple) and it was about 15 minutes walk away tops so they said they'd walk it, to make sure there was no more throwing up as far as the taxi was concerned. He handed me an extra tenner to cover the extra cost of the sick inside the car. We dropped the short girl off home, the driver tried giving me a lecture in regards to safety but I shut him up. We got back and I actually had an extra fiver, but as the driver made me wipe up the sick on the side of the back seat, I think that was a minimal fee. In fact I don't think it was enough.

I was at work the next day and the girl half of the upchuck couple came in to see me. I informed her of the throwing up business, more exactly the cleaning thereof. I told her the fiver was just the first instalment of debt he now owed me. I then told her that the next instalment would be for me to sleep with his girlfriend. I.e. her. She was shocked, but didn't argue and you never know what a little alcohol can do.

Yeah, I'm that bad.

A Domestic Issue

Yesterday I attempted to do the good thing and play the role of a 50's housewife. I made dinner and dessert. The menu was steak pie followed by smartie cupcakes. I made the pastry from scratch, I made the gravy from scratch and I seasoned the meat myself. No half measures, no cheating. I baked the bottom pastry blind and it was perfect. I'd timed everything perfectly, so the cupcakes went in to be done just as the pie needed to go in. The oven broke. I didn't realise until the cupcakes needed to come out when I realised that they were in fact not done, not was the oven on. The fuse had blown. My mother flipped the fuse back on and everything was only 15 minutes behind schedule. Unfortunately, the element in the oven had broken when the fuse went so it just blew out cold air. Not really renowned for cooking anything. Eventually the other oven heated up and it all got cooked and was lovely, but alongside the heating difficulties, the funny warmth meant my smarties sunk to the bottom of the cakes, the icing thereof  was still runny because the timing was off and my bank changed me £33 when I spent £11 on ingredients. Clearly, I'm not meant to do the domestic thing.

A Weekend from Hell

I was up late Friday night and Saturday at work was just plodding along quite nicely. Until the power went down. And the back up generators didn't kick in meaning the chillers and freezers (shop floor and warehouse) went down. Panic ensues. We pulled the blinds down on everything chilled and stuffed cardboard and toilet rolls in the open freezers. We emptied all the chilled counters, all the raw meat and all the hams and pates into boxes and took them downstairs and put them in the pitch black chillers hoping that the cold air would preserve them. We also cover an entire island in cardboard.

We are also dealing with customers swearing at us, shouting at us, and trying to cheat their way in to the chilled aisles. I manage to calm most of them and even get apologies from a couple of them. I enjoy practising my customer service skills and I love a good panic. The power comes back on after 2 hours.  I end up staying an hour late for the second time that week. I also agree to come in an hour early. As in 6am.

Sunday ran well considering that we had one temporarily crippled member of staff who couldn't work any stuff, we had someone pull a sickie ("I can't get my shoes on." Yes really. Turns out she had a sprained toe.) and quite a bit of overflow work from yesterday and a lot of wastage to deal with. M&B Guy was in charge and he was lovely to work with. Just a nice guy who's realistic about targets.

At this point, I'd had 14 hours sleep over the previous 4 nights, so when I got in I checked my email and I fell asleep. I slept for 15 hours straight. I did feel much better for it too. Turns out, sleep IS good for you. Who knew.

A Night to Remember

After another night of very little sleep I went to work for an 8 hour shift before heading home, changing and catching the bus to our nearest big town. A group of 8 of us met up with another 4 in a club and had an incredible night. I was wearing a skin tight black dress with gashes in where I'd attacked it with scissors.

The club was heaving. A friend of a friend had brought a girl with dyed red hair. Slightly curvy, pretty, fun. I was more than a little interested. I got an open minded vibe from her. She'd been making out with another guy in our group all evening and I was just deciding the best plan of action, when he came up to me, made out with the red head and slung his arm around me.

"Fancy a kiss?" I looked at him and inspiration struck.
"Sure thing sexy." I kissed him. He wasn't bad, tasted like alcohol. I pulled back and said "mmm, not bad, truth is though, I'd rather have the girl." I walked my fingers up her arm and caught her eye.

She was sweet and delicious. It started out as a standard kiss, but we liked and it got a little deeper. A little harder. Her tongue slipped into my mouth, my hands slipped down her body. Her hands slipped over my ass. I heard some distant cat calling. She pulled away but bit my lip so hard I got a little dizzy. Sexy girl. A couple of fake tan, fake eyelashes, fake hair and so on girls came over and told us we should stop because it was 'gross, innit.' We didn't. They left. The guy came back and slung an arm over each of us. He kissed the red head. He kissed me. I kissed the red head. Combine that on repeat along with my hands all over her, her hands on me, both of us grinding against him and his hands all over us.

There was a fairly large group of guys who'd taken a certain dislike to the greedy guy hogging the girls and every now and again they'd call him over to tell him so. Every so often I'd grab him by the collar, drag him back, kiss him and pass him to the red head. When both of us were grinding against him and kissing each other he'd shake his head and say "woah, this is too much..." and just away a touch and watch instead. Clearly he can't handle girls.

Eventually the bouncer came over and told us we were getting too much attention and that if we didn't cool our "orgy" he was gonna kick us out. We calmed it. I went and danced with the rest of the group and the other two coupled off until they both got distracted by other people. It didn't take long. I was dancing and some random came up and danced behind me. His hands were running up and down my body and I could feel his hot breath on my neck. I turned my head to see his face and ended up kissing him instead. He was a good kisser. Just a tease of tongue. We danced our separate ways. My friends tell me he looked like Napoleon Dynamite

I danced against a friend of mine. We had a fantastic time, his hands slipped into my dress and I ground against him. His girlfriend wasn't too happy. In fact she told me not to dance with any more. It was purely innocent and I'm not happy about being told what to do, but sometimes you have to. You know like when you prefer your eyeballs safely in their sockets and not rolling around on the dance floor.

All in all it was a fantastic night and I absolutely loved being out with friends. Got home for a couple hours sleep and went from there to work.