No sex in February, woo!

Yep, the abstinence is going well so far. One whole week since the start of Lent, and all I've done is share a bed with a guy. That was last night, actually - we went to the pub quiz and I started talking to this bloke on the team next to us, and the next thing you know I've invited myself back to his house. I've got to stop drinking during the week. But the point is, I kept my pants on the whole time. Plus I get extra credit for the fact that I haven't actually had sex this month at all, the last time was the 31st Jan.*

So, a week with no sex and no chocolate and I haven't yet cracked up. Maybe this isn't going to be as hard as I thought.

*Yes, I've started writing down who I sleep with and when. It's just good sense.

The things we do for Jesus.

Well, and God too.

Today's Ash Wednesday, the first day of Lent, which if you're Catholic means fasting as much as poss, and if you have to eat, then definitely no meat allowed. I had scrambled eggs with mushrooms and cheese at about 7 p.m., 3 hours ago, and I'm now staaaarving. All I can think about is a big meat-filled Subway sandwich. Plus I've given up chocolate - also for Lent, not just for fun - and right now I'd kill for a Mars bar or some M&Ms (non-peanut, I don't agree with nuts in chocolate). But I don't want to burn in hell, so I must resist.

Church was pretty good today, apart from as usual forgetting if you're supposed to say "amen" when the priest daubs the ashes on your head. I haven't been since Christmas but I think I'm going to get back into it regularly, as much as it feels like a chore sometimes (particularly when hung over) I always come out feeling...sort of refreshed, I suppose. Like I've got a clean slate for the week and maybe this'll be the week I don't fuck things up in one way or another.

Obviously I'm not the perfect Catholic (premarital sex complete with birth control, oh yeah, and that abortion that one time) but I'd like to think I'm going to heaven. I'm ultimately a good person, I want everyone to be happy and try to do things to help that, and I've never screwed someone over REALLY badly. Points for that, surely. Plus I'm giving up sex for Lent, so that should bump me up a few places on St Peter's list. If I manage it, that is. But I'm pretty determined. Just in case, though, I pledge here and now that every time I have sex, I will donate £10 to Cancer Research. And I'm skint, so you know this is serious.

So much for celibacy.

On Sunday I took some stuff back to the flat in Manchester, ready for moving back in after the Christmas hols. I was spending the night there because my sort-of fuck buddy was supposed to come round, but by midnight there was neither sight nor sound of him. And so I had a couple of drinks to calm my iritation. Vodka. I'm beginning to realise vodka makes me completely uninhibited. And horny.

So I find myself Facebook flirting with this guy I sort of know - friend of a friend, I met him at a party last month when I was still seeing the last guy, and we got on well and had a laugh. It's midnight, I thought I was going to get laid and hadn't, so I thought fuck it and asked him if he wanted to come round.

He did, complete with a bottle of Southern Comfort.

We spent a couple of hours talking and laughing, and then of course we slept together. He spent the night, it wasn't awkward in the morning - all very civil. He's a really nice guy, plus he had a hairy chest. Been a while since I've seen one of those. But there was no real heat, no desire - I just wanted to get laid and he was willing, simple as that.

So I've gone back on my no casual sex resolution already. But I feel good about it - he's not a complete stranger and we did actually have a conversation before getting down to it. Besides, I'm just not the celibate type.

New Years Eve was awesome!

We spent midnight in a car in Manchester town centre, looking for a parking space so we could go to this bar. But it was the best NYE I've had in years. I was with my cousins, my best friends, laughing my head off. I couldn't have asked for more.

AND, so far in 2008 I haven't had sex. Which means I haven't slept with anyone inappropriate, yay! This bodes well for my new year's resolution, which is: stop shagging around. Unless the guy's really hot.

Yep, he's dumped.

I've got rid of my boyfriend. Is he a boyfriend, if I've only been with him for six weeks? Anyway, we've broken up.

You know when you meet someone and you don't feel the "click", but the two of you end up getting together anyway and even though you know it's not right, you just go with it because you've been single for ages and it's nice to be with someone? Yeah, that's how we were. He had an amazing body and a massive cock, but he was also four years younger than me, for one (20 to 24), and for another, he just wasn't right. He doesn't read (I can't even get into the shower without a book in my hand), he's a smoker (it makes me gag just to smell smoke on someone), and he's INCREDIBLY possesive (he was jealous of all my ex-boyfriends, the most recent of which I'd broken up with two years before.). Plus he never complimented me, and more often than not made me feel like a loser. Every previous boyfriend I've had has made me feel like a princess, and I don't think that's an unreasonable request; this one made fun of my bad skin, my little poochy belly and my dress sense. I've already got enough of a downer on myself, dude, I don't need someone else dragging me down too.

So now I'm looking forward to New Year's Eve - new year, new start. I'm going to get myself together mentally and physically, and start treating myself like I should - with respect and dignity. Happy 2008 everyone!

Not again.

I'm having major problems with this new boyfriend. How do you detach from someone who has surgically attached himself to your hip?

More tomorrow. Right now I'm going to bed with Heat magazine.

Walking home from my night out...

Random guy waiting for taxi, quite quietly to his friend: Ooh redheads, my favourite.
Me: [overhearing, looks over shoulder and smiles - he was under 30 and cute, you've got to give them some encouragement.]
Him: Tell me you're Irish.
Me: [over shoulder, still walking] I am.
Him: Take me home.

It's amazing how such a small thing can give you such a massive ego boost. I'm going to bed with a smile on my face.