Liar, liar! (I'm tempted to set his pants on fire).

Oh you shouldn't have kissed me and got me so excited
And when you asked me out I really was delighted. --- That's one thing I love about Kirsty MacColl she has lyrics for every occasion.

This post is mostly based on notes I made at the time. Although I've tried to keep it true to the original, hindsight has the nasty habit of creeping in.

Bit of background to start.
I met this guy at my hostel in Edinburgh on Friday October 16 at 2.30ish in the morning. I just thought he was being friendly. No, he was flirting! I'm hopeless at it. Instant embarrassment. I just got up because some of my roomies had come home from a night on the town and woke me up. I thought I might as well get up and use the internet, send my sister an email. That is exactly what I was doing when Josh came up to me and introduced himself. He told me he had noticed me earlier. How beautiful I am, my smile, my dimples. Shut up! Thanks but I don't believe you.

Anyway, he asked me into the kitchen for a coffee or tea. I said okay, reluctantly. So I sat there embarrassed out of my mind chatting with him, though not really sure what to say. Did I say I was sitting in my pyjamas at the time? He offered me his jacket and said, "Who says chivalry is dead?" Vomit! I should have said goodnight then. Anyway, before I knew it he was kissing my neck, that's all it took. We were away.

He asked me almost right away if I had a boyfriend. No. Never. He asked if I'd be his girlfriend. He kept asking me. I eventually said yes. (Yeah right!) It's this aspect, wanting to be in a relationship, that really pisses me off.

Edinburgh Hostel Kitchen October 17th 2009
Holiday romance? Let's call it what it is, holiday fuck. Not that it actually got that far but pretty close in one of the shower cubicles. He broke part of the window's wooden panelling. Of course he mocked/joked I did it. That's so lamely male.

Being licked over a goodly portion of my body felt fan-fucking-tastic! I don't know if the sensation was increased because it had been so long or the fact that it was so out of the blue, but yeah that FELT GOOD. Loved it when he licked my back and bottom. It really had gone too far from the start when he started kissing my neck and touching me in the kitchen, BUT the shower cubicle stuff was way too much. Sure my body was up for it but my guilt riddled, uptight mind was screaming, "Stop, enough!"

October 17th 2009 (Later)
I can't stop thinking about him. I mean we didn't catch up last night so I don't know where we stand. (I lost him when he went off to have "the world's fastest shower." I went for a quick wee. I haven't seen him since. Is he pissed off with me?)

The thing is if it was just a shag - which let's face it, is easier - then why did he say all that other stuff? Do you have a boyfriend? Why not? You're beautiful. Will you be my girlfriend? He asked me that constantly. I may just about die of embarrassment if I do seem him again - regardless of the results, be they good or bad - but I also need to know. Does he want me?

Magazine tips I've read and other girlie stuff I've come across (no not like that!) suggest the intensity of his request for me to be his girlfriend, like 2 minutes after introducing himself, is way too needy. Then again I think I lack romantic instincts; that I'm too much of a thinker. The thought, "You don't even know me," coupled with a long list of my short comings and guilty secrets were running through my mind. And Terry. Almost classic Terry in regards to the intensity. How could it work? We're half a world away. There's phones, e-mailing, letters. He had me at letters! If he really wrote them in this day and age I'd marry him like that! *snapping fingers sound*

He was selling himself as a good catch. Good job, fidelity. Although as if you'd ever tell someone you were going to cheat on them in the future. Promises of that tongue and more every night. He seemed genuinely keen but what is he basing it on? Lust.

We haven't exchanged any contact details. I wish we had. He's got me curious. Damn him!

On the slow train to Inverness October 18th 2009, morning.
Because we didn't spend the night together in my bed "just cuddling", like he begged me to, and because I overheard some unflattering views on him I decided not to slip into his bag a postcard note with my email addresses on it. My last night in Edinburgh and he had been moved to my room. I knew which bag was his. In summary he is a terrible flirt, stretching the truth about his job "There's no way he is in the army" I heard them scoff; loads of girls on the go and in my opinion although they couldn't believe his balls at approaching all these women - anything with tits and a pulse as far as I can see - telling them they are beautiful and other cheesy things, they were a little impressed he could do it so easily. Fucking hell. If he wanted a fuck he could have asked. I was going to steal his CV but I just copied the information and contact details instead. I will e-mail him. Hell hath no fury and all that.

All that lying. It's just unbelievable, for a fuck. Why bother? Yeah. I've been thinking about this since I overheard what a bastard he is. It's the lying that hurts. I hate being a sucker. Overhearing he tells every girl he meets they are "beautiful" and other synonyms hurts a lot too. As always, I didn't actually believe him, or rather agree with him. It's being played. Fed a lo
ine. In a word, used. DON'T TELL ME I'M SPECIAL IF I'M NOT! (That's the third time I've cried. Not fun on a train).　

October 18th 2009, evening in Inverness. The email I sent him:

Do you want to be my boyfriend?

Hello Joshua,

Greetings and thanks for the email address. You shouldn't leave your resume laying around if you're not being honest about yourself.

I've been thinking about you a lot today. I overheard some unpleasant things about you this morning, including how you treated me last night in the kitchen. And thinking about our time together it makes sense. (There's only one profession I can think of that does "business" at that time of night). I just wish I hadn't fallen for it.

I really don't care that you're chasing other girls. I mean fair enough, do what you like, I'm not your girlfriend. Get it while you can, if that's what you want. But why not be honest about it? That's what really shits me about this. If you wanted a fuck why didn't you just say so? Holiday "romance," a fling, whatever you want to call it. As long as you're staying in a hostel I would think a quickie with no strings attached would be bloody easy! Why pretend you want anything else? I would LOVE to know the answer to that. However since I'm giving you a well deserved bollocking I doubt I'll hear back from you.

I'm going to say it again, what really pisses me off is you DID lie to me. What was the point of the girlfriend charade? We could have done it and gone on our merry ways. And all that crap about looking up flights to Melbourne. It's even more embarrassing now.

I thought you were going to keep me company last night, that and warm me up. I guess you got a better offer. Why, why, why did you have to fuck up my last night like that?!?!

It's a shame, I was starting to like you.

A kind word of advice if you do keep fucking around wear a condom. You don't know where I've been or what I've done and vice versa. Happy to stay in touch, just pissed off that you lied.

Seriously Josh, look after yourself and the ladies a bit more. Seeing "how deep you can go" is still pretty risky.

Finally, there is one small thanks. I always wanted to do something naughty like that on holiday.

Bye, Amy 　

October 19th, Inverness. His Birthday - You know how I know that? He told me, I asked him was it really and he showed me his passport, because in his words, "He would never lie to me." Yes ladies and gentlemen. The bastard!!! I also noticed his last name didn't look like it was Walker, that's what he told me the first night after asking for mine. I didn't lie. So folks, there were clues all along. Anyway.

I can't believe it. I sent him that postcard and a letter. His e-mail (above) bounced back (twice). Well I wanted him to know. I'm a bit surprised I said yes to priority/next day guaranteed mail. It's like $8 in "real" money. Fuck! I know, but I still need, well want, him to still be there to get it. (And no doubt ignore it). It may look more urgent and important this way. My name isn't on the front but my address is. I wonder how many Australians he's done already? Grr!

I was thinking (again) maybe those men were just a bit jealous at his ability to chat up girls - he isn't shy that's for sure. Still the amount he does it makes him sound like a shit to me.

Now I just wait and see if I get a response. Even if it's just return to sender.

I know, asking a liar to tell the truth, a bit of a wasted journey really, but I had to try. Damn him! He's still on my mind and driving me crazy. (I told you he was good). Of course without some sort of reply I'll never know if he got my letter. Even return to sender would be something.

I should have known from the start. Too needy; too good to be true. I should have known when he went back to playing his PlayStation in the kitchen after getting a call from his "mum" and left the bedroom. I should have known, and I suppose I did, when he never came back after asking me persistently to share my bed and cuddle. I guess she had a better place to "sleep."

Surely you'd spend what time you could with a woman you know is leaving the next day and yet is a woman you want to be your girlfriend. He always went on about that."Will you be my girlfriend?" You can only resist that sexy Scottish accent so long, you know? I said "Yes" and "I'll try," but it was never convincing. I'm a realist and a cynic. When we talked about kids and my opinions thereof he said I was a cynic. Well d'uh! I told him you don't know anything about me. But really, like Daria Morgendorffer - of Daria fame -I prefer to think of myself as a realist.

Why, oh why, did he bother with me? Shyness gets old and irritating fast. (I speak from VAST experience, perhaps more experience then you'd expect considering I am so damn shy, and irritatingly so). Was it some sick game? Christ! It is going to drive me crazy.

No more! Unless I hear from him, somehow, that's it.

I'll leave the last words to Kirsty:
You should never have kissed me, you tasted of deceit
Your perfume was Adultery but I'm not a piece of meat
So I'll be the one that you couldn't acquireI found out in time you're a serial liar

I’m On My Way

Tonight I leave for London. I can’t wait! I feel like I am going home, not least of all because I’ll be staying with friends who live in our old neighbourhood. They’ve already invited me out on the night I get there. There’s a benefit concert by Leon Rosselson, described by my host as a “prolific national treasure but probably best known for his song The World Turned Upside Down.” I’ll be honest with you readers but I haven't heard of either the song or the man. Still I was so touched to be invited and embraced.

I am a little nervous about the Scotland portion of my trip. It’s the unknown element. I’m terrified by the cost of transport but what can I do? Spend, spend, spend! Now that I know I’ll have a job to come home to I should be able to relax a little; though it’ll be a slow re-build of my finances. Shit! I don’t want to talk or think about this now!

I still need to pack. (Of course I do. Just a joke at my expense). I’m doing it in bits. Trying on clothes and culling them. My sister says I’m going to freeze my arse off there. She just got back and she said it’s already cold. I don’t really have many warm clothes. Fuck, I’m an Australian why would I? I’ll buy something there if I have to. Actually my sister is lending me a warm and fairly waterproof jacket she got over there. That will help. If it’s cold in Soho Square on Kirsty’s birthday I will “dance around like [I] don’t care.”

Oh I’m so pleased I get to go! She was great and in my opinion she was getting better and better. I really enjoy her last album Tropical Brainstorm. Before that I sort of liked songs from here and there or just had compilation CDs. But that album I like almost all the way through. I can’t say that about many albums. She tells a good story that woman. Like her dad Ewan MacColl who I’ve only just started to explore via and thanks to a new friend. He also has a memorial bench in London and I would like to go visit it too.

I’m hoping to see some friends while I’m in London but it’s such a short visit and I’m sure they’re all quite busy so I don’t fancy my chances. Still if it happens that would be great!

More packing now.

Happy

I am happy right now. Who would have thought it? I finished work early, I got to watch Q & A and I’m going to the UK! I just feel happy. I got an adorable email from my pregnant friend. I am missing her Hen’s Night (my first full day in London) but I’ll be there for the wedding, and what I’m sure will be an adorable baby! I keep seeing things I want to buy for it. God, I must be that age. I thought my cluckiness had passed but apparently not. I must have been in deep denial. I wouldn’t put that past me. I have to work on the weekend but I’ve got plans both days after work. What’s happening? When did I get a life?

I emailed the man about the Researcher Job with ABC3. It took a while. I kept trying different combinations on the email address I found on the net, relating to another ABC project. I finally noticed that I’d spelt his first name wrong. I’m sure I cut and paste it so I don’t know how that happened! Oh well at least I got through. And guess what the reply was – I’m sorry I am sick at the moment, if it’s urgent please contact so and so. Oh. Well I’m happy I got through.

It was just a short message saying I’d be interested in any other opportunities that come up especially in writing and research. I don’t know if it will do anything, but maybe my name will stick in his mind now. I feel I’ve done all I can at this stage. Maybe I should have attached a photo. I’m cute enough!

I was less lucky with finishing off my tax return but hopefully I can get what I need on the weekend. It would have been nice to have the money in time for my holiday (Iceland and Sweden) and now I don’t think I’ll even have it by my next trip. Still it’s good to know it’s there. God I hope I’m not broke when I come back. Although I think I’m going to love going to Kirsty’s "birthday." I’m sure Scotland will be awesome too. It’s so fast, I hope I can get myself sorted in time.

My All The Single Ladies t-shirt arrived today. [I’m modelling it for you above on the right]. Very fast service; I am impressed! I think the one I ordered my sister is a lot funnier. It's of Jesus on Facebook. I get to present it tomorrow when my sister returns from her trip to the UK. I can’t wait to hear her stories and I have all my stories to share too, plus some holiday gifts to give her. I guess I’m a bit more excited to see her than I realised, it’s been a while.

The Weak In Review

I was very unhappy to return to work on Monday. I got so depressed. I mean I wasn’t away that long but I just couldn’t stand to go back to my “life.” I was a little down after initially getting back to Melbourne but by Monday I was completely wretched. So much so, that by Wednesday, (Thursday, and Friday) I was getting drunk on the job. And man did I cry my eyes out on Wednesday; almost as much as the night of “The Incident” before my holidays.

You see, on Wednesday I finally managed not to sleep in, and thus I was able to drop-in and see Margaret at work. I had to ask her if I could take some more time off. Man I was nervous. She could see it on my face and asked me to sit down once we were alone in her office. I know it is asking a lot of her by requesting more time off but I really, really want to go to the UK for a memorial gathering and birthday celebration for the late great Kirsty MacColl.

I fucked up. I could have tried harder to combine my trip to Iceland and Sweden with this Kirsty event but for various reasons, or you could say, “as per usual,” I didn’t get my act together. It seems crazy but I am pretty sure I can afford to do both and I would like to. I have the backing of my parents and sister. Not just financially if I get in trouble, they also know how much I hate my job and can tell how much I want to do this. "Life is too short." And cleaning is forever.

Ah, yes I should report on Margaret's response. I didn’t tell her exactly what it was I wanted to do but I said it was something very important to me and something I could only do at this time. (Sure the Kirsty fans gather every year on her birthday but this year she would have been 50, and okay that’s just a number but it feels extra special. When I found out about this I wanted/hoped I could make it for this one. See I’m pretty sure it’s an annual event but my sister thought it was a special gathering because she would have been 50. I haven’t double checked on who was right, but it doesn’t matter. For a long time now this is the year I wanted to do it).

The thing is Margaret didn’t give me a straight answer. I mean she just wasn’t sure. She thought I could probably do it. She asked how much annual leave I had left (not much, not enough actually, but I told her I don’t mind, that I’m fine with it being leave without pay). She also asked how long it would be (well about as much time as my last holiday, in fact a day of two longer, oops. Hadn’t quite worked it out when she asked me. Plus I can’t decide if I’m crazy enough to leave for the airport straight after work or just take that day off too. I can guess what my family would say, but I am a bit crazy and I do feel bad about taking time off again so soon – less than a month after my return people!)

Margaret told me she wouldn’t want to lose me. I think that’s definitely a positive sign. The main problem is timing. A lot of people are on annual leave. Perhaps more than they can cope with. One person who is on it is the man that I think is her boss and who with her grants annual leave. On the plus side for me she did imply it was good that there was someone who’d “learnt” my job. (I use quotation marks because although he did shadow me one night to learn my job there were a few things he didn’t do. Apparently because I didn’t tell him he had to do it. When my supervisors’ told me this I said I’m sure I did tell him, but I honestly couldn’t remember. The area, the Mezzanine, was the one area I did before he found me that night he was shadowing me - which is what I told them. However I’m fairly certain I would have told him I do this area too. Sorry this is a bit banal I know, what I was told is he didn’t do the toilet on that floor. Why wouldn’t you check the whole area when you’re cleaning anyway? I mean it’s right next to the kitchen. What did he think it was? My impression is that they have a bit of trouble with him anyway. I’m not sure if it’s simply a language problem or he just isn’t good at cleaning. I wouldn’t take the latter as an insult! After all who the fuck wants that feather in their cap?)

In other news, I hope to have set in motion getting some feedback on my application as a Researcher for ABC3. The job started this month, although when exactly I never knew. I couldn’t work out who to send my enquiry to so I sent it to the woman who emailed me an acknowledgment of my application. I knew she wasn’t the right person but I thought she might be able to point me in the right direction. I was surprised to see a reply in my inbox later that day. She’s sent on my enquiry to a couple of people, including the man I originally applied to. It was nice of her to do that. I don’t know if I’ll get any feedback from the people who reviewed my application and in some ways I don’t want to hear it!

When I talk to people about asking for feedback they always recommend it, while acknowledging that it can be painful. The theory being how else can you improve? I also talked to my best friend about it and he reckons it would be worth getting directly in touch with the man I applied to. He thinks it will show him I’m still interested and of course it’s an opportunity to ask if there are any other jobs coming up. I found his phone number (and the woman who emailed me gave me his number too), but I’m too shy to call. My friend thought I could fax him but I really wanted to find an email address for him. A couple of days ago I did! So I will try to email him soon. I want to attach the supporting letter my former boss wrote for me. I would have attached it at the time but I got it too late. I’m a bit nervous about that too. I want my email to be worded just right. Of course!

It annoys me that I didn’t even merit an interview. Annoys and hurts. This did seem entry level enough even for the likes of me. I have done some stuff with Rouge Productions too so I’m not a complete novice. I name dropped as much as I could in my cover letter. LOL. I like to think it was more mentioning the courses in writing, etc. I’ve done since uni, rather than I know such and such a person. The ABC is quite good in setting out what they want you to include in your cover letter. Perhaps I didn’t cover it well enough. I wouldn’t put that past me.

There is a bit of a connection, besides work, to these two topics. My more romantic and confident side thought, Hey if I get this Researcher job I won’t be able to go to Kirsty’s birthday anyway. I’d be sad that I’d miss out but a proper media job, oh my God! I do get carried away with my hopes when I apply to jobs I actually want to get; makes my fall particularly nasty and sometimes messy/bloody. The time before this ABC job application I took the failure so badly I cut myself, a lot. Not deep enough to be fatal, but that’s not the point. Yes I knew I had to do something after that. Get some help. I did, but without going into it too much, I still do have a lot to sort out in my mind. No time! I’ve got travel to organise.

Another reason I didn’t want to talk to Margaret about time off is that I knew she would ask me to go back to the City Baths on the weekends. The renovation works are still going on. I’m not surprised, that sort of thing always takes a long time to finish. She joked that it would be over by the time I went overseas. I think I smiled but in my head I’m thinking I’d be back there on my return.

That’s of course if I don’t lose my job over this trip. That could happen. It probably should, cheeky bitch that I am, asking for MORE! So what if I work my guts out and do a lot of overtime that goes unpaid? (Yeah you guessed it, I CARE). This is why I need to know if it’s okay or not. Really and truly. I dish out more “maybes” then is within my rights, but this time I’m asking for something more concrete. I’m anxious, but tomorrow I really want to make a decision so I can book that ticket and get on with organising accommodation and an itinerary for a trip up to Scotland. It would help, or at least influence my decision, if I knew I had a job to come home to. I know it’s crazy and I suppose I am asking too much but...I want this so much. A mere blog can't express my desire.

My Day In Stockholm

I didn't think I was going to blog while on holidays but what the hell, it's free. It's my first day (Sunday not Monday) and I'm confused. Very confused. I think I blog to avoid my problems.

Do I look gay? A guy asked me if I knew where any good gay bars where. I assume he addressed me in Swedish, I had my headphones on so didn't hear much at first. Whatever it was I didn't understand but obviously he spoke English. I don't really mind. Thinking about it now do I look that cool? At first I thought he might be chatting me up - fat chance! Oh well.

I've been more impressed that I haven't been mistaken for a man. It's nice to know my "femininity" can withstand the pressure and challenges of international travel and borders. Or maybe the top I've been wearing for almost 2 1/2 days is tighter than I usually wear. Not to sound up myself but my tits look pretty nice in this t-shirt. However it may be the new bra I'm wearing underneath. I think it may be my new favourite.

I also feel young again (I do dress like a child). That young man looking for a gay bar asked if I was a student. A lot of people on my flight were international students - if not Swedes coming home. From what I overheard in the immigration line there was only one other person who was a tourist.

I've got my notebook in front of me. I wrote some of this while I was having dinner at Restaurang Al Forno, a pizzeria. I'm not going to transfer it all but I do find this bit funny: My hostel is in a great location - even though I have no idea where I am. I don't have much sense of this city. I was thinking how on previous holidays if they were new places I still had a movie image and idea about them, not so Stockholm. So it's all new.

I got here, (eventually), in the morning. After paying off my hostel bill (and checking email - hey I said it was free!) I went for a walk around. My sense of direction is terrible. Actually it's just opposite to the map. I can work things out but I do it back-to-front. I did it looking for the hostel and again looking for the meeting point of some tours. I wanted to do a combination tour of the city with bus and boat parts but they weren't operating today. I was just in time to join the Old Town Walkabout. That wasn't too bad. It was nice to have a few things pointed out. I still want to do a bus/boat one.

Tomorrow I should brave the trains and buses. Trains seemed easier but when I got to the central station I read a sign that said the blue line is out of service and there are replacement buses. Oh cruel world! I'm just afraid to ask which is really silly. I scream tourist and so far people have all spoken English and been friendly enough. (There's an Australian working at the hostel. I'd know that accent anywhere). I just feel like a dick.

Yeah I'm surprised how horny my thoughts were on the plane. Mostly thoughts about oral, my forte, although I was receiving it in my thoughts. I've come to a conclusion - definitely a pun as I'm on my knees begging to come, just once, please God! - that the stimulation I need is mental. New things, exploring. If I'm stimulated mentally then I tend to feel happier and when I'm happy I'm more likely to be horny. See that's what I was trying to get at. Excuse me though, I am all over the place tonight. And to clarify I feel stupid not knowing how to do things here.(I'm not on the look out for a real dick).

Dickhead!

Oh damn. I wanted to visit the Icelandic(k) – not my joke – Phallological Museum (http://www.phallus.is/) but now that I’ve looked it up on the map and the Lonely Planet Guide I think it’s too far away. [I don’t drive]. See I knew this would happen. This is why I was meant to research a bit more before going on holidays. Who knows, maybe I’ll manage to get there but fuck it’s like the other side of the country. Not even like, it IS the other side. What annoys me is I read that it used to be in the capital but when the guy who runs it retired he took it with him to Húsavík, meaning The Bay of Houses. Shit, the more I read the more interesting it (the location) sounds. Next time perhaps. It‘s actually near a national park that you can do volunteer work in. That was going to be my original plan for going to Iceland. So I wouldn‘t be doing it totally alone, and volunteering is nice too of course! But I missed out on booking the date I wanted to do and the only free one was in June, too early for me and it would have been too rushed. Anyway, I tell myself if I enjoy Iceland this time I will come again. I could still try the ‘‘Conservation Holiday‘‘ route. I don‘t mind doing something useful on my holidays. You can go whale watching up there too. I‘m going to email the museum after I post this. See if they think a day trip is doable. I‘m going to show my ignorance of distance and travel in a foreign land. Yeah for me! I wonder if they‘ll get back to me. Or better yet if they‘ll pick me and drop me off. Wouldn‘t that be nice? Hmm. Silly girl.

P.S. The museum does not have human specimens, yet. (I thought I'd share some, below, at least). From what I've read online - always a reliable source - there are a couple of people willing to donate once they've died, (obviously). The photo on the left is from the museum. The collection is of animals from Iceland.