Confusions...

So it happened, it finally happened, and it was nothing anyone said it was going to be. There's a million issues about it in my head:
A first date but we've known each other much longer...still cheap and easy?
I came first and quickly...tradition states the man does.
I wanna tell everyone, squeal with girlish pride and excitement...but I want to keep it my secret and casually mention it another time...there's no way I can tell mum.
I have no regrets, tears, different feelings about myself...the books document tears, fright, excitement, etc. Today just feels like a regular day, and afterwards it felt no different either.

My god he looked hot, my god all I could notice was my fat, blubbery skin compared with his tautness.

I hope it gets better as well, I found it a little boring and unspectacular after a while.

Operation "Get Ass In Gear"

It's funny how having a man suddenly makes you extremely conscious of every part of yourself. And ironic I say this after spending the last week revising feminist theory and being immersed in warnings to be above man and prohibit/drum out my masochistic need to be a sexual object. It's not only the boyfriend part but also the horror staring me in the mirror and stretching the fabric of tiny tees (tiny tees I could formerly leap into) to ripping point under the harsh lights of the TK Maxx changing rooms. Do I really look that squat and unhealthy?! Does my skin really have more different tones and textured surfaces than a DIY store-burnt, tanned, lily white, mottled grey (euck), peeling, smooth, goose-pimply/spotty? Evidently so, as I look just as rough in my usually flattering dorm mirror. All the sleeping in make-up after rampant sex sessions, late-nights as a result of snex sessions, lack of fruit, veg, vitamins and breakfast and working out I guess.

So here goes, I plan to reinvent body and soul into a living model of dewy sexiness...
Have already begun working on skin by thoroughly massaging Palmer's Cocoa Butter into my skin twice a day, as well as fully removing make up at night and cleasning twice daily. Just need to work on the late night sex...or maybe not.
Also started the day with breakfast and a portion of fruit, not to mention vitamins and veg with my meals.
Am attempting more flattering, adventurous fashion and make-up. One can only do the smoky eyes look for so long.
Am going to spend the time absent from boyf doing things to occupy my mind. Like uni work.
Am also going to start going to the gym, religiously following the Denise Lewis X-training Nike Fitness Plan.

Now going to power-nap for half an hour to revive oneself for an evening of rampant shagging...and then revise after (the nap, not the sex).

Thursday Night

Thursday Night, one of the big nights for student nights in the clubs in town so at abuot seven the mass grooming, pre-night-out hype-up begins.
Windows are thrown open, curtains open and shut and open again, the whir of hairdryers creates a constant hum. Continuous splashing from various showers.
Across the halls a thousand alcohol bottles crack open, along with the simultaneous pop of mascara tubes and wands. Various dance tracks thump and pound away all around. Corridors echo with excited pre-club conversation and raucous laughter.
The air is heavy with the scent of shower gels, beauty potions, hoarding aftershave and eau de parfum. As time passes taxi cabs roar up and down the drive, stilettos click along the concrete accompanied by shrieks and chatter. There is the thud of loafers and brogues. Sharp shirts, denim and hair gel. The dull din of the bar fills the air of a warm summer evening.

Problems With Halls #1

Ah the perils of shared toilets, the perils. Not only does it occur that when you want to use the loo, as in you have to go right then or things could turn messy, there's ALWAYS someone in there. And also, the guys toilet door always slams shut whether occupied or not, so it's only when you are all ready to do your thing or make a little too much noise, that you realise someone's in the next cubicle. I'm so embarassed about being a girl with bodily functions that I often hold my feet up as well so next door can't see exactly who's in there by the shade of their toe-polish/footwear. Although I always have a quick glance down to see if I can recognise the occupier's footwear.

As I said, the perils.

As the profile editing doesn't seem to be working on here at the moment let me take a few seconds to tell you a little about the person behind the words...
I'm a 19 year-old first year uni student living in the UK. I'm a girl. I absolutely love books, any types of music that sound good to me and unusual films. Or anything by Quentin Tarantino minus the little let-down that was Kill Bill Volume 2. I'm absolutely obsessed with the tacky and rather strange. I also love sexual contact of any kind, provided it's with someone I adore and not anything too violent or gross (e.g. "golden showers" ewwwww). My lovers will often admit to beign terrified by my sexual foward-ness. But it's all good. I have recently acquired a boyfriend with the fittest body on Earth, or in my part of the UK anyway.
Being a student I also love to party, and whilst my frequency of partying may be a little tame for some (two times a week) I still have a wicked time. Was a bit of a pisshead but I got amazingly drunk last week and the sight of alcohol evokes horrific flashbacks.

Hope to add a little more to this foray into my self, but for now TTFN

My First Post

Ah, another phase of my life, another blog. And in fact this blog is only really a stopgap until I create another unique one of my own when I've acquired and mastered Dreamweaver and Greymatter, which hopefully won't be long.