We're never done with killing time, can I kill it with you?

"I'm glad that we stopped kissing the tar on the highway, and I like you. We move in the tree streets, I'd like it if you stayed."

Another small absence, and I have so much to say!

So firstly my weight appears to be rather stagnant at 58kg. Incredibly so. I blame it on my stupidly irregular periods. I had a hungry week, while on night shift, and so completely didn't notice. Ate like a fucking pig on nights. Only had 2 meals a day but seriously, those were like 3000cal meals. So much food! And I was hungry throughout the nights too. *sigh*

Now that my period is here, hopefully I can get back on track. Hate having my period but at least it coinciding with a cold means I can have a sick day from work and have a Jadelle inserted. 

I'm going to be vigilant like mad when I do because weight gain is a very common side effect. But what stands still stands, if you don't eat too much, can't gain weight. It apparently makes people hungry? I should know the feedback mechanisms. I'm hoping for it to go smoothly, I don't really have a choice, the amount of unprotected sex I've been having is really too much for me to not do something about it. (and when I got this period, I was like, yesssss, not pregnant!)

Any of you ladies have one? Any effect on your appetite/weight? I can always get it taken out if I get too fat on it. Will be on MyFitnessPal like a freak!

Things with online dating guy are going well, as you might have deduced by now. I shouldn't call him that anymore since neither of us have our profiles anymore. A few days ago I decided that I didn't care what he thought this was, things seem to be going well and so I was just going to remove my profile and stop having that lingering thought driving me mad. 

But just before I did, I was awful and had to check if he'd been active or not. And to my absolute surprise, his profile was gone! I was so pleased, and not to mention completely sheepish at thinking that he might still be playing the field. 

We went away together for the weekend. Which is how we ended up having all that unprotected sex. It was so much. It was almost 2 much. I mean, honestly guys, and I'm not exaggerating...4 hours, then 4 hours sleep. Then another 3 hours. I mean, WTF is that. It's a real testament to his fitness because after that I was exhausted, and he was still okay! I lay there like a dead fish while he got up and made us tea. 

He really doesn't have a thing for condoms, and I'm not about to not sleep with him for that. But there ain't no way, not on any level, am I okay with potentially getting pregnant. Hence the Jadelle. 

When we were at the hot springs together, he was joking about meeting my incredibly shy and scared flatmate. "Wouldn't it be funny if I met her and then suddenly gave her a big hug and a kiss?" 

Well, the longest relationship she has had was a year, and at the end of that year the furthest they had got was a goodbye hug. Not even a kiss on the cheek. 

"She might find you later and say, Judith, your boyfriend tried to rape me!" 

I laughed. And a split second later did a double take. Did he just call himself my boyfriend? Is he my boyfriend? 

Well this is certainly a first. Can't honestly say that I've had a boyfriend before. In fact, I most certainly have never had a boyfriend. I have a boyfriend guys!!!! 

"Well, you're not a virgin anymore."

"Baby be the class clown, I'll be the beauty queen in tears."

So a lot has happened since I last posted here. An awful lot. And I've learnt a lot about myself. I've been out with my cop many, many times. And the odd thing is, he's not my boyfriend. Definitely not. I have absolutely no idea what is happening between us at all. All I know is that when I'm with him, things seem to be easy. And when I'm with him, I forget about everything. 

Yes, I have my moments filled with self doubt when we're not together but those are largely my issues, as opposed to issues with us. I'm already feeling guilty about things. I don't exactly have time for him. I'm ALWAYS at work, and this is making me realise just how much I work. I work a lot. He works on average 40 hours a week in various shifts. I work on average 65 hours. His longest shift is 9 hours. The longest shift I've ever worked is 16 hours. I'm starting to understand why I'm always tired. 

The other day I had a terrible day at work. Was supposed to meet up with him afterwards but I ended up finishing 3 hours late, crying and in tears. It had been the shittiest day on record ever. I text him, saying that I was gross, had had a shit day, was super late, and he really probably shouldn't see me. I mean, I had changed into scrubs because everything was so shit. People were dying, people were being transferred to ICU, it was just thoroughly shit. After all, by the time I was finished with work, he was due to start his night shift in 2 hours.

He ended up just saying I should come over. And so I did, I was too numb to do anything else really. I sort of stood forlornly on his doorstep for a few seconds and as soon as he opened the door, he just wrapped his arms around me, maneuvered me into his room and we flopped onto his bed. For an hour we just lay there like that, he had wrapped himself around me and was talking about random things and I really did just completely forget about work. 

The night before we had tried to have sex. And I say "tried" because we had to stop because I was so bleedy and paining. I mean, I knew it was going to be like that, I think I freaked him out a bit by being bleedy. I didn't mind the bleeding, but it was so damn painful. He said he didn't want to hurt me, and that we'd take things slow because it was my first time, and that I'd start to enjoy it with time. "Well, you're not a virgin anymore." He tells me as he puts his arm around me and just cuddles me for a while. 

I don't exactly know how I feel about that. But we've gone out a few times since then. And I certainly hope to be in his pants again before I jet away to Melbourne on holiday.

Now ladies, I need some advice - I've never been in a relationship before and I have no idea what the hell I'm doing and how things are going...any comments/advice/heckling is welcome. 

Thank you in advance!

getting skinny, getting skinny bitches!

"Take a chance you stupid ho, take a chance coz you might grow."

Well that's certainly what I'm saying to myself. Take a chance. I'm trying to psych myself out for my first circuit training class tomorrow. I can already see the silver platter with my arse on it. And I'm pretty damn sure it'll get handed to me a minute into the class. Why am I going? Because the hot copper will not stop asking. 

I don't get it, I don't understand why he keeps asking me to the gym. And I know it will not stop so I just have to suck it in (literally) and just go. Well fuck. I might look a fool but if I can keep it up, I'll get thin. I'm going to be so hot and sweaty, it'll be gross. Why the hell would he want to see that?

I've lost a good 6lbs since I met him because I have absolutely no appetite at all. Can't bloody eat, can't bloody sleep, can't bloody work. And that's without me trying to lose weight at all. I'm now at 118lbs, the lowest that I can remember being for a very long time. If I add the gym into that mix, well. Who knows what might happen. I want to get to 110lbs soon, and then I'm going to pick up ballet again and make a good go at going en pointe this time round. 

Trying to psych myself out by looking at celeb fitspo and thinspo. They must hard out work out to look that good. And frankly, if I go through any of the above transformations then it will all be worth it, even if he dumps me on the spot at the gym for being such an unfit slob. 

There. I said it. What I'm really afraid of. I've spent my whole life feeling like an ugly, good for nothing piece of crap. Truly believing that no man would ever want me. I spend most days feeling fat and ugly and preoccupied with using all my energy to look presentable. And now somebody has appeared to have picked me up, and not just somebody, a fucking gorgeous cop who seems to have his life sorted. He is very quickly becoming the conduit for all my greatest fears. 

I'm already scared to death that I'm too fat for him. Now I'm fucking scared I'll be too unfit for him. He's not even my boyfriend and I'm already scared that he's going to dump me for not being good enough. 

And I really don't want to lose him just yet. Just last night, when he was on duty and having his dinner break, he came to my house, picked me up, drove me to the beach where we sat in his patrol car, looking out at the city lights. And so we made out again. I'm really starting to like this whole making out thing. 

Right now it's too late to change anything. All I can do is go tomorrow and do my best. And hope that it's enough. I hate feeling so inadequate. 

my guy

"Living just to find emotion hiding somewhere in the night."

Well ladies, I did say in my last post that I would write about the first date in more detail once I calmed down a bit, but now it is becoming abundantly clear that I will never calm down and so I might as well just bite the bullet and write this post. 

I'm desperately trying to think of ways to describe my man. Firstly, I'm calling him "my man", so that at least gives some indication of where my head is at. Secondly, it's 3am, and I'm on night shift at work, so I do give myself permission to wax lyrical if I so choose. 

I should start off by saying that I have no idea what  my relationship status is right now. One date doesn't qualify as anything really. Certainly not for him. It means a lot to me, because there were a whole lot of firsts for me in that one package, but he's definitely been there, done that. So we met up at a nice beach, went for a walk along it, just chatting. He told me about his screed of ex-girlfriends, most of which scared the bejeezus out of me. I'm certainly different from the rest of them! Not sure if that's a good thing or not. 

He told me about his ambitions, and really, it was like the worse job interview ever. He kept telling me about stuff that he's good at. Well, I guess it worked because I was fucking impressed. In an odd way, I was doing the opposite. Like, I'm not that great, please don't be disappointed.  

We walked for about an hour, totally didn't realise it was for that long, and he took me to a cafe for another hour or so and a chat. And over coffee he was telling me about his house. 

"If you like, I can give you a tour." He said tentatively. And so we went back to his place. Which apparently is not normal for a first date according to most of my friends. And I guess that for my first date ever, it was a little out of the ordinary. But it felt right and I felt safe and so I went. 

He showed me around the house, showed me the renovations that he had been doing and then showed me his room. Let me say right off the bat that he owns some damn good music. So he played me some music as we sat on his bed and chatted some more. And he started getting quite touchy. I mean, when we were on our walk, he was helping me up and he'd tap me every now and then to redirect me. But in his room, he was tickling me (way too much) and sliding his hand up and down my leg. 

Come leaving time, he walked me to my car, and just as I was about to get in, he grabbed me and pulled me into him and kissed me. Out there in the bitter cold, on the road by my car. I had expected maybe a little kiss, a quick peck, or even just a peck on the cheek. After all, he does know I've never had a boyfriend before, never been kissed. 

But it wasn't like that at all. He was very gentle, just wrapped me in his arms and then I suddenly found myself in a long, passionate kiss, tongues and all. When we broke apart I was quite speechless, and just when I was about to break away, he pulls me close again, tilts my chin and we're off again. 

oh my motherfucking god I'm going to die.

"A little time with you is all that I get. That's all we need because it's all we can take."

So today I met up with my hot as fuck copper. I caved and decided to Facebook stalk him a wee bit, but, as expected, as a copper, the only thing his fb shows are a few pictures. But they were enough. There is this one picture of him in a black muscle tank and when I saw it all I wanted to do was vomit. 

And the vomity feeling has been with me the whole time. Oh my goodness. I mean, I knew he was rather well built, being a policeman and all and having seen him in uniform. But holy fucking shit he has muscles on his muscles and muscles where I didn't know they even existed, and I'm a DOCTOR. All the photos are of him climbing fucking mountains or whatever and fuck I'm going to die. 

I don't know what I was thinking before, actually I'm pretty sure I wasn't thinking at all. I can't go out with someone like that!!!! 

I have never felt so fucking fat in my whole entire life. And so I went running for the first time in like a year yesterday. Turns out I can run pretty fast when I'm feeling inferior. But now I'm pretty damn sore. 

I don't know why I feel so bad about all this. Probably because I've never ever thought I would be in the situation where I would feel so inferior to a guy. I've always thought I'd go out with another doctor, and well, there are some good looking ones, and they can be quite well built, but "traditionally" I'm the one that is intimidating. The word "ophthalmologist" tends to scare them a lot. 

For some reason I find my intellect meaning fuck all here. And if that is taken out of the equation then I really, really, don't have anything left. 

UGH! Why the fuck did he ask me out? Like, why? Do you guys know what he offered up as first date options? Rock climbing (which is actually okay, apart from my paralyzing fear of heights, but he doesn't know that so okay), or...and I quote " a circuit training boot camp session, just you and me." I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Those are four perfectly okay words that when strung together like that, mean hell. 

Well, I might lose some weight, but with this guy, I might actually die first. 

Needless to say I didn't exactly jump for either of those options *thanking all the gods that I am going onto night shifts tonight...there has never been a more perfect excuse* and so we just took it easy and went to a cafe. 

Then we went for a nice long walk along the beach. Then we went back to his place, where we sat on his bed and listened to music and chatted about things. 

Ladies, he is PERFECT. He's got so much ambition, he's got everything planned out and he's got his goals set and he's working hard for them. He's so damn good looking that it almost hurts my eyes. He's really easy to get along with, and all in all, a genuinely nice guy. As long as he doesn't ask me to go do circuit training boot camp again because I will still die if that happens.  

I think he likes me, because we hadn't planned to go back to his place, but after we had coffee, he asked if I wanted to go. So I said yes. No, there was no crazy monkey sex (although I do hope that will come later down the track) but he did kiss me. MY FIRST KISS LADIES!!!!!  *sigh* I will write about this in more detail later. When I'm a bit more calm. 

I am still plagued by insecurities, but, at this stage I'm not fucking telling him about anything. And I'm not sure if I ever will. I am sooo not good enough for this guy. 

I mean, if I looked like any of the above pictures, I wouldn't feel so bad. 

the re-return

This, my friends, is the story of the re-return. 

And today is the day where I have stopped separating fantasy from reality. I have no idea what was real and what was in my head. So, my hot cop re-returned for me. In a way that I had somewhat dreamt of, but clearly did not think would ever happen. 

So let's start from the very beginning and I will attempt to tell this story with some sort of eloquence. 

I'm having coffee at work with friends, in a secret staff cafe, hidden in the hospital, chatting and enjoying what will be the first relaxing day in 3 months. My pager goes and I answer it on my mobile. It's my home ward and a nurse answers. "Judith Marie! You have a visitor here, he's a policeman and you are in trouble!" 

A million possibilities run through my head. What did I do? Did I do something wrong? Am I in trouble? Why would the police want to talk to me? The nurse on the other end becomes more flustered with the questions I'm firing at her so she just hands the phone over. 

He starts with, "I'm here because there is a patient downstairs who I have just brought through to ED. He had a seizure while driving." Now worse possibilities are flitting through my head. Did I discharge someone too early? And then they had a seizure and now the police want to charge me with something? Will the medical council get involved?

Terror is about to take hold, and it must be clear that I've got the wrong end of the stick. "Do you remember me? I'm the policeman that was there when you mother had her accident." 

And then all the pieces fall into place. 

Firstly, I'm relieved as fuck that I'm not in some sort of trouble. Secondly, disbelief takes hold. Meanwhile, he's still talking. 

"I'm on your ward, I remembered you telling me and I thought I'd pop by and say hi. Are you around at all?"

I explain that I am nowhere near the ward, and that unfortunately my location isn't easy to describe. If I send him on a trip looking for me, we could be missing each other for days. 

He asks me how far away I am, I say, a few minutes, he says he really should get back on the road, and I head back to the ward. I burst in with my registrar and there he is, standing out like a sore thumb in my home ward, smiling at me in all his uniformed glory. Blonde hair slicked back, blue eyes shining and looking more than a wee bit sheepish.

I saunter up to him and say hello and my registrar rushes past, not exactly the master of subtlety she keeps ducking round the door to catch glimpses of us. 

There is some small banter, he asks me how my mother is, chats a bit about my father, and a bit about work. I know he should have left ages ago, he tells me he's left his partner in ED to do all the work while he's come up to look for me. 

"Would you like to meet up, outside of this place?" And he gestures to the hospital in general. And he saves my number on his phone. 

Later he texts me and tells me that today was the first car crash that they had brought to my hospital in over a year. And he took a chance and came to find me. Our rosters are both slightly hellish, but we've penciled in Sunday night...having a caffeinated drink before going to work. By some garish coincidence, we are both on night shift. 

After our chat he says he absolutely must get going, I hope he doesn't get in trouble for my sake. He says he'll text me. And he does. As soon as he gets off work. He tells me he's glad he took a chance and tried to find me. 

well, it's a good job, better than a courier driver. that's the worst job ever.

"Roll the window down, this cool night air is curious."

Well, nothing to report on the weight front I'm afraid. My eating is more erratic than ever. I've gone back to eating whenever I get the chance and eating whatever I can get my hands on. Unfortunately this usually means something fried at the hospital staff canteen. When I'm not at work I'm out with the boys, at dessert places and eating salted caramel gelato and things like that. 

I'm updating you all because I absolutely MUST tell you about this guy. The other night my mother had a car accident, she's not hurt at all, our car is a bit damaged, but it was a 4 car pile up on the motorway and so the police were all up in it. 

Dad and I had to go pick her up from the scene, and that is where I met THE HOTTEST COPPER I HAVE EVER SEEN. He was tall, rather well built, and extremely handsome. Short, close cut blonde hair, great jaw and cheekbones and smiling eyes. When we arrived dad ran straight for mum, and I was asking about what happened. The first thing he told me was that my mum had told them that I was a doctor. The second thing he said was, "I don't suppose you doctors have much time for dating?" 

And I, stupidly, did not know how to respond. He asked me what hospital I worked for, was surprised that he had never seen me before as he was often there patrolling. Asked for my name and gave me his and that's the end of that really. Oh, and he waved at me from his patrol car as he drove past. 

Still, I've been thinking about him since then. God, I'd love to fuck him. I do hope I bump into him again. Somehow. I'm admitting in ED tomorrow and I'll be dressing well, just on the off chance that I do bump into him. You never know. 

In the meantime I've been telling all my friends about him. I have to say...even I thought he was slightly hitting on me. Which was nice, because I don't think anyone has done that before. Made me feel quite cute. 

PMS IS A FUCKING BITCH!!!!!!!

"I don't need a reason to hate you the way I do."

FUCKING HELL. Okay, I am absolutely sure I am PMSing, I know this, and yet I cannot stop myself becoming crazy psycho bitch cow. CRAZY PSYCHO BITCH COW!!!! RAWR!!!!!

Oh the anger that runs through my veins, you could bottle it and then hurl it at people as some sort of flash bomb. And I don't even know why I am so angry, I can't explain it. I just am. I just feel like destroying something. 

Well, I finally had the coffee date with Joe. Not exactly in the circumstances that I would have liked, him coming off two consecutive 20 hour working days and working today before doing tonight's night shift and me about to face two consecutive 20 hour working days over the weekend. We were both...not so much in a good mood, still, with a load of work on both our backs, we sat and had coffee for an hour before going to round together. 

Didn't help matters by wearing a pair of GORGEOUS (but quite tall) green suede heels. My feet were sore like all hell. Sore, like all hell! Neither of us had anything to look forward to and I think we were giggling out of sheer despair. 

I feel so confused after today. A big part of it is the PMS. I've never actually been annoyed at Joe before, despite all his short comings and faults, they've been okay. And weirdly enough, I felt annoyed because he was walking too fast. And I had to keep asking him to wait for me while I clattered behind him in my heels. 

Of all the things that should bug me, it was that that got to me the most. I felt like, I'd made such an effort to make life easier for him, most of which I don't even think he noticed, he couldn't even think to walk a tiny bit slower? I wanted to dip my stilettos in a wound full of pus and then stab him with it. 

Maybe he just needs to chill the fuck out. Go far away and forget everything. And just chill the fuck out. If I wasn't PMSing, I would say that I wanted to whisk him away for a weekend and do nothing. But since I am full of PMS, I want to knock him unconscious, stuff him into a bag and ship him off to somewhere else. Christ. SO FUCKING MAD!!! 

I think Joe's pretty aware of my crazy coming out. I was properly angry at him today. No doubt, after I bleed myself out, I will miss him and regret all this, but until that happens I will continue on my homicidal rampage. 

It's probably all a sign that Joe just isn't into me. And that's fine. If he's not into me then he's not. There's no two ways about that. Yes, it sucks somewhat. The more time I spend with him, the more I realise that he hasn't got a clue what's going on. He has no idea. He's too busy and too stressed to realise that I'm trying. I don't think he'll ever realise.

Well fuck that. 

This crazy psycho bitch cow is going to focus on weight. I should've known to venture into the fuzzy romantic side of life was a mistake. 

snug in size 0

"Let me be empty, oh and weightless and maybe I'll find some peace tonight."

I'm losing my head. Losing it completely. I can't possibly be on my game. It's Joe. Stupid fucking Joe. No, that's not true. Joe has nothing to do with it. Stupid fucking me. Stupid, stupid fucking me. At any rate, I sought help over this matter, and my friend, who I was hoping would talk me through it and help me just get over him instead text him on my behalf and asked him to coffee. 

Fuck. Okay, so coffee isn't a big deal. It really isn't. And in the hospital, it is a total necessity. So it isn't as big a deal as it is in my head. In my head I'm making a mountain out of a mole hole. 

At any rate, me and Joe are trying to find a time to have coffee next week. I don't really believe it will really happen, but we'll see. 

Nothing about it makes sense at all. The more I think about it, the less sense it makes. By all accounts, I should hate Joe. But I don't. Gah!!!! Nothing makes sense, and I absolutely hate this sense of losing control, I hate this feeling of everything spiraling out of my control, I hate that I can't even control my feelings. 

I feel so insecure that I am doing something that feels so fundamentally wrong for me. There is a reason I am 23 years old and have never had a relationship, never had a fling, never been kissed. And to step outside this comfortable little box of mine...it feels like shit. 

Can't eat, can't sleep, can't think of anything except Joe. What sucks is, even though I know I am suffering this much, I'm sure that Joe is completely unaffected. 

Ah well, every cloud and all. 

I felt thin for the first time today. It took me completely by surprise because at 119lbs, I still think I'm fat as fat as fat. Even though I've lost enough weight for me to be pulled aside at the airport and have 3 different people stare at my passport to see if it really is me. So I must look sort of different. 

When I look in the mirror, all I can do is pinch and pinch at all my fat and I feel like shit. But today, when I was at the bank, and feeling miserable for being at a bank...I was sitting, sort of hunched over, legs crossed with my arms over my legs and I suddenly felt a hollow. I felt like there were gaps between my limbs and a hollowed out stomach and I felt thin. 

I have NEVER felt thin before. I was shocked and stunned and absolutely delighted. So today, I have only had one chicken kebab and a bowl of cabbage soup with a few pieces of squid. I don't know how many calories that is...but certainly no more than 700-800cal. Not as good as I'd like. 

I think this Joe thing...all food seems so unappetizing. I want to eat, because I'm used to eating and binging. I haven't done this in a long time and so somewhere inside me, I feel like I should be due for a binge right about now. But faced with food, I just want to vomit. 

Do you know what the problem is? Joe is tiny. He's so small. He's a wee bit taller than me (and I'm 1.6m) and he is fucking skinny. I am so tempted to ask him he weighs just to get a rough idea of how much fatter I am because I am SURE that I weigh more. I've always wanted to date a much bigger, muscular guy, one who I would trust to catch me and pick me up than one who is smaller than me. 

Dammit, I need to be smaller than him. This is just insane. How can he be so fucking small! Why can't I be that fucking small! FUUUUUUCK. And at the root of it all, why do I have to fucking fancy him???? 

But to the title of this blog...since I have lost enough weight for me to notice, I decided to try on some of my "trial" clothes. I have quite a few size zero items tucked away in drawers and closets. I squashed into quite a few of them today. All those skirts that i never used to be able to fit are now quite snug. SNUG. So maybe another 6lbs later, they might actually be comfortable. 

It's so nice to be able to fit into some size zero clothes, so nice. So good to have some confirmation that I am going in the right direction. Come on 100lbs, come on double digits. Maybe when I'm thin, I'll feel better about Joe. 

But for now, if I can't control what is going on with Joe, then I need something to hold onto. I need the certainty of starvation and weight loss. I need some constant in my life. 

I am a monster that needs to be spayed.

"The two of us, all used and beaten up. Watching fate as it flows down the path we have chose. You and me, we're in this together now."

I LOST 6LBS ON NIGHT SHIFTS!!!! 119LBS FTW!!!!

I have just spent 10 hours over the past 2 days wondering how to write this post so I guess that's a leeway into how ravaging it has been for me. After all this thinking I still don't have an answer as to how I feel or what the hell is going on with me. I have spiraled from being deludedly happy to being tired and angry to being wistful and hopeless to finally feeling like I'm some sort of monster. 

It's Joe. It's fucking Joe's fault. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. Whatever is happening, and I'm really not sure what, it's wrong. It's not supposed to happen and a part of me is very, very angry about that. 

Whatever it is, I have never felt so ill in all my life. Admittedly, some of that is probably the caffeine withdrawal and the night shifts screwing up my biological clock. I've just spent the past four nights with Joe. No, not in that sort of way, we were on night shifts together, I was the house surgeon and he was the registrar. And we were the only two doctors on for orthopaedics overnight. So it was kind of hectic to say the least. 

I spent a lot of time with him, in those nights I probably spent more time with him than with any guy I've known (bar my father). That was weird. I was supposed to spend most of my time on the wards, while he was in ED, and that's how it's been for other house surgeons.  But I was in ED for most of the night. I seriously hope that the ward patients were okay because I wasn't really there. 

Not that I did much in ED. Mostly just sat there and wrote notes for him. A bit redundant really. The smarter, more efficient thing to do would have been to split up and divide and conquer the patients but Joe was having none of that. He got in trouble for not seeing patients fast enough and I heard him on the phone, several times, telling the ED bosses that it was very important that I stay with him. 

Here is the be all and end all. I wish with all my heart that I wasn't attracted to Joe. There is nothing about him that goes along with what I've always liked in guys. But I am attracted to him. I have never flirted so much than those 4 nights with Joe. Having said that, I am probably the clumsiest, worst flirt in the entire world so he probably didn't even know. 

I can't tell you how many times I wished Joe would just put his arms around me and just hold me, or just grab my hand. Dammit. When and why did I turn into such a desperate bitch? I am hating on myself right now. The bad thing is, I can imagine myself dating him, and having a good time too. 

And I'm sure Joe doesn't feel anything for me. There might be sparks flying for me but there is absolutely nothing going on from his side of things. He doesn't fancy me at all. And that just breaks my heart. 

But everything has an upside right? I can't eat, I can't sleep. I'm so numb. At least I will lose some weight. 

Damn, feeling bad because Joe feels nothing for me. Feeling like a sinner for flirting with him. I wish I could just feel something else. Dammit. 

Just let me be weightless and numb. 

and what does daddy say?

"I think I thought I saw you try. But that was just a dream."

Firstly, thanks for your responses to my last post. Sammy, blogger hates our love and will not display your comments. It was interesting to find out what areas bother you most. And that we all hate our tummies and thighs. 

Since that post I've spent a week freaking out about going to see the professor for a barbecue and then actually going and feeling extremely young and uneducated. I'm not sure how well I remembered that night, I had just come off long day, post-take rounds and having worked 12 days in a row I was in quite a state. 

In true me-style, I had panicked as soon as he invited me to this bbq with several other consultants and my boss in Bristol, who is over here visiting. It didn't feel right at all. I was the youngest person there by 20 years and I just kind of sat in the corner with not much to say. I was too tired to be witty or charming. But it was still a nice night. 

So the long and short of it is that I had no idea what I was doing there. It was an honour to be invited, but it was odd. I know for sure the others were surprised to see me there. I felt like I was their child, just there to be polite and presentable. It must be some kind of record, no person as junior as me has ever been invited to anything like that. I felt awkward, out of place and juvenile, but in an odd way, I was totally the cat that got the cream. 

Apart from that, the night was odd in another way. I had a weird feeling that out of the 4 women there, at least 3 of us had had some sort of eating disorder at some point in time. The other women were deadly thin, boney and gorgeous in that way. And he watched what I ate. Didn't embarrass me per se, but mentioned that I hadn't taken much food. 

Another thing that I've only just found out, is that my entire class at medical school seem to think that the professor is my sugar daddy. I don't know what a sugar daddy is, but I do think of him as a father so I guess that's close enough. Josh thinks that the professor is my sugar daddy. Which I find sweet. But I don't know why. 

I still have a huge crush on Josh. He's such a nice guy. Unless I'm barking up the complete wrong tree or am completely stupid, if I tried a bit harder, I could probably get him. He sits close to me, always makes physical contact when he sees me. But as usual, I will just wait for it to pass me by. 

I guess besides this, I don't have much to say tonight. I feel some sort of change in me. And as of yet, I don't know what it is. I will update accordingly, when I figure out what is changing. But I can feel that something is going to happen. 

ghosts of the past and future

This post is inspired by Jackie, who helped me remember something I had tucked away in some safe corner of my memory. A dream, from which I awoke, disoriented and shaking and unable to function for days, how could I have ever forgotten?

Love is a word that is so easily flipped around these days that it has rather lost all meaning for me. I think that I can recognise it when I "see" it. In quotation marks because it isn't something that you can see. It's not anything really. It's an electric shock that stimulates all and none of the senses simultaneously and is almost more of an intuition than anything. For instance, I can say with certainty that the professor loves his wife, J. And that I love my dog, my beautiful German Shepherd. I'm sure that if our eyes could see UV or infrared, we would be able to see some sort of mist surrounding us in times of love, as if some little love elf was following us with a big fan and a box of dry ice.

I'm just shy of 22, and thus far I have never had a boyfriend, never been on a date. That side of life has eluded me, and I have happily stayed well away from it. The emotional and social complexities of such a pass time are far too odious for my short temper but on the other side of that same coin, I do want to be part of a couple at some point.

In the past I have dreamed of things that then came to pass. I don't think I'm psychic or anything, but it's happened rather too many times for coincidence and it never ceases to creep me out and I wish it would stop. I dreamed my English teacher was present a week before she announced it to us, I dreamed of a shooting at a military camp in the US and woke up to see it as breaking news, I dreamed of seeing a cute guy by my locker and saw him there a few days later. I hate these things. And most recently, I dreamed that TS and J and the professor were trying to reverse my tag, and when I went to tell TS and J that I was tagged, they told me they were already trying to reverse it.

I am a total skeptic and I don't believe in anything divine, no religion has ever set foot in my life, and it's just not how I was brought up and it's not naturally part of my constitution. But with all this, even I am taking these dreams without the usual grain of salt. And it is with this lengthy foreword that I begin to retell my dream.

I can't tell if this dream is of something that has passed or of something that has yet to pass. But in this dream I am at a party. Already, this is very unlike me, I don't really do parties. I am wearing a dress, it is pink, sparkly and paired with high heeled shoes that are gold. The entire outfit stinks to the high heaven of something retro and I know that these are borrowed clothes, they don't quite fit me. It's not my style at all, which partly explains the unease that I am sensing.

I am also alone, and (here is the part that gives me hope!) I did not have a jacket and so I'm holding my arms, my very thin, very, very thin, bony arms to try to keep some warmth in. I'm quite nervous, I don't recognise anyone there and I'm quite scared. I pick up a glass of champagne, just for the sake of doing something and then I stand at the table, with my back to the room for a while, collecting my skittish nerves, telling myself to turn around and smile and socialise and make some friends. Just leap in!

Turning around abruptly, I make contact with a pair of eyes around the room and I'm thunderstruck. Of his face, all I can make out are the eyes, but I have a distinct feeling that he's brown haired. He's in trousers, a shirt with the sleeves rolled up, tie and (this is what takes the cake) a waistcoat. I look at the ground as he walks over to me, I dare not look him in the eye again. I'm too scared to, because I can feel it, I can feel love, and it scares me to the bone. But somewhere deep inside, I know that he is someone very special and I know that no matter how scared I may be, I will not let him go, because we were meant to meet.

I hope you can tell that I have tried to present the dream in the most unromantic way possible. I just don't hold with such romance at all. I don't believe in love at first sight, I don't believe in soul mates. And yet this dream affected me so greatly that for a few days afterwards, I firmly believed that this mystery man was out there waiting for me. Then I snapped out of that particular stupor and tucked the dream away.

Yet this feeling of love in this dream, that is something that I can't deny no matter how much I want to tell myself it wasn't there. And I know it must have been, because in my dream I couldn't look at him. I have a habit of not being able to look at people who look at me "lovingly". It's why sometimes I can't look at the professor, no matter how rude I think I'm being. And no matter how much I don't want to admit that that is the reason why I can't look at him, if I'm brutally honest, that is the truth behind it. If I do look at him, I blush madly and he immediately says "you're blushing!" and teases me for it.

Still, I hope this quite literal dream man is real and that our paths will come to cross one day. I want to see how accurate this dream is, even if it means wearing an ugly dress and shoes.