Green Lighted Men

O.K. last Tuesday I got myself into a somewhat sticky situation, I went for a drinky with an old friend we will refer to him as Mr Green Light (mainly because he is very flirty, works in an alcohol infused environment and gets his rocks off just like me). We get along so well mainly because we have the same sense of humor and similar views. I can talk to him about sex, without the pressure of not acting like a "Lady". In some ways he reminds me of the Spaniard, I miss him too much and conversation is not as regular as I would like :( So anyway after almost two bottles of wine the conversation turned to us getting it on. Now don't get me wrong I've learnt my lesson in that department: Friends+Sex =Nothing Good!

So we leave the very scenic beer garden, to go for a ride in his car (he did not consume two bottles of wine!) and ended up kissing beside the sea (it was not as romantic as it seems, he just went on and on and on and on about making a move and looked quite sad when I said I valued our friendship instead of turning it into something else! So in the end I said do it and you know what, it wasn't that bad, conversation carried on and the i went home.

Somehow I think this story will develop more as I'm meeting him Sunday. For now though I wish my right hand lady was in the country to discuss this sticky situation!

Update

So since moving home many things have changed, I'm working like mad clocking up nearly forty hours a week serving coffee to the people of Llanelli, it's not so bad really same as Newport, same regulars, same kids and definitely same arseholes, I'm learning that people are the same where ever you go,with different faces and outfits but definitely the same. I'm seeing the Ex on and off, that is well I don't know what that is, I think it's the aftermath of love and my stubbornness of hoarding things and the inability to let things go. I know he loves me and wants me for all my flaws but it boils down to the simple thing of I want something from him that he cant give, I want him to be someone he cant be and I think I'm ready to be on my own and accept our friendship. I mean it's hard letting go of the security that he brings but the lack of sex is just a killer!

Saw the college lot the other day, learning that a game of Kiss, Marry or One Night Stand with the college lot, turns out I'm the one night stand which is nice I think! After two bottles of wine, a one night stand seemed like a plan until I was sick all night and then up for work at ten, it was not a good look on me!

I am however missing my city Big Time, mainly the men, the easy lifestyle and the housemates, the good times we shared and the good sex I had. GOSH being at home doesn't half affect my sex life! But I'm sure there are good times ahead and Mallorca in September (I decided Spain need's to see my partying before I go and turn my back on my my old friend), South America next year and hopefully some new men in-between!

Home or Away?

Reading an article in The Guardian the other day, made my blood boil. It was titled "Viva Benidorm! Spaniards move in to save their struggling tourist industry". It was focussed on the lacking tourism from Britain in the last year and to help raise lost funds, Spaniards are holidaying at home to make up for the loss of almost ten million Bristish tourists visiting the popular holiday destination. Only last summer did i watch a BBC documentary about how British holiday makers between the ages of 18-30 have ruined the islands reputation by being drunk and acting inappropriately. The islands residents had an issue with how the doctors out there have to tolerate horrible drunken states, hand out the morning after pill like sweets and have to treat hundreds of cases of sexually transmitted infections and diseases especially in women.

Now my argument is mainly centered on how the Spanish moan about how the tourists behave but when they stop going how they are losing money by them holidaying at home. All we have to do is look around and see how people these days party and how, knowing the spanish make a killing on us drink loving brits! Also these doctors that work so hard make a killing, we all take out insurance to go on holiday and these doctors are privately paid. If you are lucky enough to visit one of these doctors you will know that they will usually withhold your passport and insurance details! So here it is Spain like it or lump it we brits choose to stay at home for the not so great weather but the NHS healthcare. Ciao for now!

Me

Yesterday was an interesting day, after grabbing my grande, non fat, sugar free vanilla, 140 degree, Caramel Macciato, to go, I wondered what made me the person I'm perceived to be. On paper I'm a writer and film maker who has a degree in film and video and due to graduate in September, I've worked at a worldwide coffee cooperation for the last four years whilst maintaining my degree and a four year relationship (which has currently ended) but does that make me who I am. Of course it's a part of who I am but what do the people on the outside see when the happen to glance in, well I'm 5-ft 7 and a bit, curvy with blue eyes, Im strong headed, Independent, I don't mince my word's, I love earning money, getting drunk (not being) and more than anything socializing, I don't like being on my own except when either reading, writing or wanking, I like looking at the sea but not being in it, Im impatient and argumentative, I'm loud and sometimes obnoxious, the perfect date would be a meal and the cinema/gig/bowling/drinking and finished with the perfect moon lit/rain splattered kiss, I love material things bags Chloe/Guess/Balenciaga shoes, Louboutins/ Kurt Geiger/ Alexander McQueen but most of all I love men. I love all the things men are and what they represent how they look/ smell/act, the chemistry between men and women/other men/their mother but more than men I love writing and you guessed it about men. Most women from the get go are told of the relationship between a man and woman whether it's Mother Father, Husband Wife or Brother and Sister. This has always intrigued me as a single woman, of 22, heading out into the big bad world, there are only two thing's on my mind, career and my next relationship.

So I guess that last sentence covers me, a woman of 22 trying to sort out my career and relationship before I turn thirty and therefore a spinster.

Dear Spaniard ...

So my Spaniard has migrated. He, having been mentioned before over the last couple of months but not by this new name has played a partial role in my life, in the last chapter of Newport. He refers to my as one of his lifers and I refer to him as my spaniard. He has very much put himself at the centre of my world and it started with him getting a job in my coffee house, our friendship grew from there his friends became involved with my friends and vice versa, but now due to a drunken mishap with a red lighted friend, I'm sad to say my spaniard has left the building and the country for that matter.

So what's a girl to do, well I've booked a flight out in September to, not only visit him and meet his family but to go to the world cup winning country (not that I'm a football fan or anything but think of the men)! It's also a perfect opportunity to get inside his head, seeing as he spends most of his time rummaging around in mine, trying to "figure me out". I will spend those eight very exciting days, exploring where he grew up and finally get to understand how those wheels churn. This development is going to be exciting and also the drunken times ahead with my Spaniard and my born and bred Cardiff companion who is coming along for the drunken escapades and obvious games of UNO.

So my point dear readers is this, find a Spaniard who can speak five different languages, not judge and get inside of your head and you might just find not only a best friend but someone who will help you out of a pickle no mater how far out of their way they have to go.

Chapter 2

This week has been an interesting one indeed. It started with me saying goodbye to my first so called city and moving home to the next and believe me, I have lots to write about.

On parting my so-called city I got caught in web of deception between two friends, one migrated and one has got me caught in a web of lies. On arriving back I’ve had to lie to a partial person, comfort a friend in a similar situation and get over a love, not what you’d call an uneventful week.

At the moment though I’m missing my migrated friend and hopefully I will be able to fly and join him from a foreign so-called city … well here’s hoping.

The City and County of Newport – For Now Its Goodbye

Today is an interesting day, I say goodbye to my first so called city. I’ve finished uni and for the next few months will be moving back home to the town of Llanelli, where the blog will be now based from, well for the next few months anyway.

In the last three years I have learnt so much and am really sad to say goodbye, I have been privileged to meet some amazing people, I’ve got a degree, made up, broke up, loved, kissed in the rain, become a writer, made a film, broke a heart, had my heart broken, planned the next two years, become a so called femme fatale and written about it in my so called blog.

So here it is readers … the next chapter.