Archive for November, 2007

Marriage and Why I Don’t

This is something I want to talk about.  I can’t really talk to anyone I know about it because they would get all wierd.  My mother especially.  People don’t really like the word marriage over here so much anymore.  I am not married to my partner and I have no intentions of ever doing so.  The truth is I don’t believe in marriage.  I don’t believe it’s a life long plan especially since divorce came through over here.  If it was such a commitment, it wouldn’t be so easy to get out of so what’s the point?  I don’t want to spend a lot of money on a wedding day either.  I just don’t see any…upside to being married.

I just wanted to get that out there first before I explain things a little more.   I have always said throughout my entire life that I don’t want to get married.  I don’t really have any happily married couples as role models in my life.  I’m not including the blog world in that because I know a lot of you are probably happily married but I’ve only come across you recently so that doesn’t really change my lifelong view of things 🙂

My parents were very unhappily married.  They got engaged a couple of months after they met.  She was 19 and he was only 17 (he had lied about his age at first).  They had gotten pregnant and decided to get engaged.  My mother was extremely naive and was pretty much led astray by him completely.  She also wanted to get out of her home as quickly as possible because she felt like her mother was insane controlling.  They lost the baby but they got married two years later when she was 21 and he 19. 

I’m not sure of the timing but maybe around this time, maybe beforehand, he had a son with somebody else.  That somebody else, let’s call her the She-Devil ended up stalking my mother and making her life hell.  She was also a lot older than my parents.  My mother miscarried quite a few pregnancies but when she was 23, she gave birth to me.  The She-Devil gave birth to my father’s second son about five days before I was born.  She named him after my father so that my mother couldn’t if she had a boy.  I think that my mother was aware of this woman by then but again, I can’t be sure on timing.  Fast forward a number of years and my father is in jail, has four sons with the She-Devil and two with my mother.  My mother went to visit him in one of the most notorious prisons in Ireland and was told that his wife had already visited him.  Turns out the She-Devil had already been there and laid claim therefore using up his visits.  For the record, he refused to see her but the visit still counted. 

My father was a loser.  A charmer, but a loser.  He almost single handedly managed to ruin my mother’s life, making her a nervous wreck and a complete looper giving us, his two children, a really fucked up and crappy childhood.  Today is not the day for it but let’s just say that I reminded my mother of my father and I paid for his wrongdoings.  I was his only girl at this stage and I was the only one he gave attention to so at the time I thought he was only wonderful.  I soon learned.   I keep getting tempted to tell the wrong story, sorry!  Marriage, Claire, it’s about marriage. 

When he was in prison, she left him and moved us back into my Nanny’s house (it was her sister’s house really, they live together).  Neither of these women were ever married.  My mother’s father had fecked off home before my nanny could tell him she was pregnant/after she told him she was pregnant and later on the love of her life was a widower who proposed.  His children stopped the wedding so my Nanny remained a single woman even though she looked after him til he died (his children remained firmly against the relationship).  My nanny’s sister had her heart broken by a man in London who turned out to be already married and never went near a man again so it isn’t really surprising that i’m not interested in marriage. 

My mother remarried but they both think that they were happier before they got married, go figure.  My father since remarried too but I have no idea how that relationship is going.  I do know that even after he had kids with that woman he cheated on her (and before she had kids he got my mother pregnant, wonder how he would have explained that one if she hadn’t miscarried).  So basically, I don’t think a whole lot of marriage.  There have been a few married couples that I thought were happy…until they divorced the second that it was made legal over here.

So back to me.  My partner and I have been together for five years and have two children.  He did propose to me before but it was sort of a stupid, desperate, last resort thing that he put no thought into at all.  He did buy a ring but it was probably the first one he saw that day, he was in a hurry to embarrass himself with a completely desperate act, you see.  He tried to propose another time with the same ring but we agreed that it was a bad idea…he does things sometimes because he thinks they are romantic….or what I want but that isn’t my idea of meaningful.  He says things like, one day I’m going to marry you and calls me his Missus.  He has my name tattooed on his body.  We plan on having more babies and we are completely in love.  I don’t doubt his commitment and at the moment I feel very comfortable the way things are. 

I don’t like it when people judge me for being unmarried or consider my relationship to mean less because I’m not married.  Once, online, a man said to me that I was very young to have two children (that pisses me off too by the way).  He asked me was I married and I said no and he turned around and said – “Oh, he didn’t ask you then.”  I can’t remember what I said back but it probably wasn’t very nice.  It bothers me that people assume that women are unmarried because nobody wants them.  It’s a bit backward but whatever.

Anyway, Mr. Claire has been talking about marriage a lot more lately – a sure sign that he is having a lovey dovey stage.  It’s just a phase 🙂  Yesterday, he pops in after work and gives us all hugs and kisses as usual.  Then he looks at me with this majorly guilty face and I’m thinking, uh-oh, what’s he bought now.  Because that’s usually why he looks guilty 😉

He goes all red in the face.  “I want to marry you.”  We both started laughing.  If you saw his face when he said, you would have too.  He told me that somebody from England was over in his job today (it happens sometimes).  This guy got married a couple of months ago and is expecting a baby in a few weeks.  He asked Mr. Claire when he was going to get married and God knows what Mr. Claire said back but the man said, “Ah, you need another child, then you’ll get married.”

Am I the only person is totally confused by that statement?  Sometimes I worry about how men think…I hate when people put things into his head by the way.

I was like, what’s the difference if we have one, two or three?  What’s that going to change?  He kept saying I don’t know and hugging me.  I’m a little bit suspicious that he just blurted it out to cover what he was really feeling guilty about.  You see, I think he says things like that to make me think we’re going somewhere – I think that he assumes it’s something he’s meant to do.  But I’d really rather if he didn’t.  It makes me a little bit nervous.   So, anyway, I’m not into getting married, neither is he.  But he feels like he has to bring it up now and then.  We have absolutely no plans for that type of thing.  Even if we did and we got engaged, the engagement would last forever.  That’s just the sort of people we are!

I know that marriage works for a lot of people but I can’t see any way that it would improve or change our lives.  I wouldn’t take his name, that’s for sure!  Our children already have his name.  So the only thing that would change would be the major debt we’d be in after forking out on a wedding.  It said in the paper that most people spend at least 20,000euro on their weddings.  Feck that, I can think of a lot more things to do with 20grand 🙂 

There is one thing that takes the marriage thing from being 100% no to maybe 99% no.  My aunt.  She’s getting very old and she has alzheimers but my mother told me that she told her that she would love it if Mr. Claire married me.  My family idolize Mr. Claire by the way, it’s pretty sickening.  The fact that she says things like she wants to live to see me get married makes me feel extremely guilty about being adamant that I don’t rather than I do.  But the rest of my family would be upset if I got married.  My brother was engaged and my mother still doesn’t know because she would have flipped out.  Most of my family do not want me to get married – to anyone, not even Mr. Claire 🙂

So that’s my thoughts for today.  I had nobody else to talk to about it so I launched it all on you lot.  Now before you all attack me, I’m sure there are lots of happily married couples in the world…I just don’t know any of them 😉


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Best Blogging Buddies Award and Other Sap Like That

Okay, I’m going to get sick.  I just wrote a huuuuuge post and then Internet Explorer shut down before I could post it…I’m not the better for it, let me tell ya!

I’ll try and remember it…Ok, I don’t have a hope in hell of remembering it but I’ll try and wing it anyway.  I warn you, this might get a little bit soppy, mushy, warm and fuzzy, all that kind of crap.  Why?

Because I got an award!!!

Melissa from Such Simple Pleasures bestowed this amazing award upon my most grateful self.  She also said something really nice about me that touched me and made me cry.  Yes, it really made it through this heart of stone…told ya it was amazing!

So in the post I lost, I expressed a fair amount of insecurities I have about blogging in general.  Thinking on it, I am really glad I lost that stupid post.  I sometimes feel/felt that I was a bit out of place in the blogosphere.  I don’t really have a place yet…I don’t have a funny or useful blog and everyone seems to have a huge circle of blogger buddies.  It can be intimidating to break into the comments between people who know each other a while.   I know that I love reading people’s blogs and commenting and with that comes a certain fondness for the blogger.  I find myself beginning to warm to them, admiring them, respecting their opinions, really like them and in general become their stalker fan.

There are lots of bloggers I feel this way about.  I will never become close to most of them but it doesn’t stop me feeling like I know them from what I read on their blogs if that makes sense.  It always amazes me when somebody…acknowledges me.  What I mean is, even though I notice them, I never think that they might notice me or remember me.  So, when somebody I like acts like they might like me back…well, I feel all nice and happy and warm.  That doesn’t last long, don’t worry, I have a rep to protect, dig it?

So what I’m trying to say is, there are lots of bloggers who are really, genuinely nice, who welcome wierdos like me into their fold, or at least tolerate their presence.  Even if the wierdos aren’t popular…or particularly friendly for that matter.  I started blogging at the end of September so I don’t know if I was just lucky to find lots of nice bloggers early on or if the blogging world actually is overloaded with such happy sappy heads but either way, I’m very grateful to have met you all.

I have to give this award out and in my head, I want to give it to everyone that was nice to me and made me feel welcome.  In my world (the one with no friends) it means an awful lot to me and I thank you.  Out loud, I’m just going to give it to a couple of girl bloggers.  I don’t really think the boys would appreciate the cute award quite so much!

Firstly, I hand it straight back to Melissa.  Even if somebody else had passed this award on to me, I would still have given it to Melissa, no hesitation.  I love how honest she is in her posts (even when they get her into trouble 😉 ).  I admire the way she gives so much of herself to the reader, yet still has so much more to say and manages to be fun too!  I started to visit Melissa’s blog after I saw a couple of her comments on other people’s blogs and had to read more.  She’s frank, emotional, sensitive and humorous, how can you not think she’s a top bird?

Next up are two hot mommas that I met very early along the way and two that I really admire. 

Antibarbie is probably the first person I started visiting regularly.  I cannot for the life of me remember where I found her but I’m glad I did.  I adore the fact that she is always her own person and is comfortable in that role.  She comes across as the kind of person that would run to a friend’s rescue but tell that friend out straight if they were in the wrong.  She’s a majorly talented writer, I sometimes feel like all of her creative writing is written especially for me because it is exactly the kind of thing I love to read and she has that sarcastic wit thing going on so you can’t go wrong really!   I doubt that she knows it but I think very highly of this lady.

I found Cardiogirl on antibarbie’s blog.  Cardiogirl is fun and a great host, she looks after everyone who visits her blog.  She makes me laugh and I love the way she writes her posts.  People can’t help liking her because she is so friendly and fun.  But that isn’t why I love her.  It is the vulnerability and insecurities that draw me to her.  I love the quirky witty comments she leaves every single person that comments on her page but I’m more fond of what is left when the fun is over.  The real “deep down” Cardiogirl, the one that you’re only allowed to see glimpses of sometimes and then it’s back to business.  That’s the one who I want to pass this award on to…because that’s who I visit every day for.

My next two are relatively new bloggers in my world and I’m more than a little shy at doing this in case they think I’m wierd and run away forever.  Antibarbie and Cardiogirl already know I’m wierd…

Firstly I want to pass the award on to Blue Sleepy.  I first noticed Bluesleepy on Cardiogirl’s blog and then on other blogs and finally plucked up the courage to comment on her page.  To me, Blue Sleepy is a lady and I don’t quite measure up so I was more than pleasantly surprised that she too made me feel welcome.  I can’t even cook (that’s exactly what I thought).  Some people you just like…instantly.  This girl is one of them.  I can’t explain it exactly but there are some people that should be known by everyone.  Again bluesleepy makes that list.  I think she’s a sweetie pie.

Finally I’d like to pass this on to Guilty Secret.    I love her blog.  It’s one of the most personal and open blogs I have ever read.  And guilty herself is a darlin’.  I found her on Cardiogirl’s blog too, funny how one blog leads to another.  Sometimes her comments are really verbose and intelligent while others, they are sort of…dreamy and happy.  Again, I’m not so great at explaining which is frustrating.  Guilty’s words are very compelling and she basically allows her readers to completely delve into her mind and really get to know her.  She makes you want to know more and root for her at the same time.  Sometimes the best blogs are the ones that let you in if you get me.   She’s also good at replying to her comments 😉  And she’s very patient with me even when I ask her awkward questions.

I just want to say that there are other people I want to give it to but I have to stop somewhere and in some cases, I don’t know them as well yet.  But I honestly want to get to know them better.  I know I’m going to look at my blogroll and feeder after this and go, ah crap but feck it, it’s done now.  I’m not going to tell any of the people mentioned about this post.  If they see it, they see it, if they don’t, they weren’t meant to.  Either way, I’m grateful for the many sound heads in the bloglands.   Don’t get too excited, I could hate you all tomorrow 😉 

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Tattoos and Crushes

I realized yesterday that I think tattoos are hot.  No, wait, bear with me here.  It was sort of like an epiphany the way it hit me.  It crept up on me and now I’m surprised by it.  I know you’re either thinking “bit slow on the uptake there Cláreen, I figured that out years ago” or else “ew, you must be sick in the head love…”

I don’t have any tattoos but I’ve always been fascinated by them.  I’ve been thinking about what tattoo I want for over ten years now.  I still can’t decide.  I thought they were pretty…artwork…if done the way I like them.  I’m not saying I like every tattoo, just good ones.   I know that’s cleared things up for you 🙂  I always appreciated the work that goes into them but I never realized that I thought of them as sexy.  Which is stupid AND obvious.  Because I knew I drooled over this picture…

Freddie Ljungberg

Yet I knew that I’ve never found Freddie Ljungberg in the least bit attractive before.  See that panther.   Mr. Claire has that on his arm.  I love it.  He also has a celtic cross on his shoulder and mine and the kid’s names on his back.  I love all of his tattoos.   He’s talking about his next one.  If he started going mad and wanted a tattoo vest thing, I’d be like hell no but I don’t think he would anyway.  Like me he appreciates the beauty and work of something like that but he doesn’t want it on himself.    I asked him to get one on the inside of his arm next time (I have a thing for his arms)  and he said he would get one on his bicep instead (I have a thing for his biceps) and that I could pick what he got.  That might be a mistake 🙂

Um…I just felt like adding this one…

I spent ages today looking at tattoo galleries (for me) trying to find something that made me want to run to a tattoo parlour like five minutes ago.  But I didn’t and I probably won’t ever because I am terrified I won’t be able to handle the pain.  Mr. Claire reckons I wouldn’t sit there and let them do it.  “But I gave birth before.  Twice!”  He just chuckles to himself.  “Okay hon.”  That scares the crap outta me.  My mother and my grandmother would probably give me a bit of an earful about it even if I did.

But I’ve really always wanted one.  When I was aroud 14-16, I wanted a shamrock, L.F.C., my name, stars, a ying-yang symbol, a butterfly, a flower (lily/orchid/rose), even a freaking unicorn.  I’d still quite like a shamrock though, and maybe a star or two…a butterfly would be cute…my children’s names would be sweet…see how I still dither about it?  I saw a pretty “tramp stamp” (who comes up with these names?) that had butterflies AND shamrocks today but I wouldn’t get one on my back.  If I get a tattoo, I want to be able to see it!

Enough about that, back to me thinking tattoos are hot.  I get crushes.  I admit it.  I’m fully grown.  Have two children.  Yet I still get crushes.  But when I say I have a crush, it just means that I like to look at them, a lot…see LL Cool J photo above 🙂  Always on famous people though.  Which is handy because they’re always on that box we like to call a telly.  I have this thing where I don’t think much of a famous person, then I see them in a t-shirt or something.  They have a tattoo and I’m like *wipes drool* hmm, they are not so bad after all…

Mr.Claire thinks it’s funny, especially because I have a bit of wierd taste in men.  I mean I like obvious people such as Johnny Depp (of course)…but then I also have a crush on Ricky Wilson from the Kaiser Chiefs (love that band btw) even though I have no idea if he has any tattoos and I have a long term crush on Tom Selleck 🙂  I could let you in on some really embarrassing crushes but I’ve waffled about nothing for too long today!  I’m pretty sure I’m too old to be getting crushes…isn’t that type of thing supposed to stop when you’re a teenager?  NOW I understand why my mother always had a Robbie Williams poster up in our kitchen when I was a kid…well, sort of understand….:)

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F*%k You, FAI, F*%k You…

You may have noticed the National Anthem page there on the right.  I’m going to dedicate that page to the FAI, it seems only right.  For all the readers from far away lands, football = soccer here by the way. 

Anyway, in our football Golden Years in the 90’s (led by the one and only legendary and honorary Irishman, Jackie Charlton.  Jackie, we still adore you, please come back, you’re not too old, we promise), most of our players had English accents down to the grandparent rule so most of our team didn’t have a clue what the words to the National Anthem were.  They used to move their mouths anyway; it was amusing to see who could actually sing it.  So I think a good start for the FAI would be to teach our players the words to the song, it might make our woeful performances on the pitch a little less embarrassing.

Here’s a recent enough clip of our anthem being performed at a match.   Note how our younger players have learned from the embarrassment of past Irish footballing legends and have managed to not only learn the words but to sing so loudly that it sounds like a whole football team is singing along.  Also check out our recently sacked manager, Steve Staunton.  Now, Stan the Man was a great player on the Irish team for many years yet he still doesn’t know the words.  Glutton for punishment?  Well, he did take the job as Ireland Manager with no experience and after the unpleasantness that was Mick McCarthy (who used to play Captain, then managed to single handedly drive away Roy Keane, our Godlike Captain – we all like a cheeky rogue).  That says it all really.  Now there’s talk of Andy Townsend lending a hand, not as manager you understand, no we need someone experienced.  Experienced enough to have been sacked, obviously.

So now the FAI are looking for a new manager to shame.  Shame?   Why, yes, that is the perfect word for it because Irish football is in a shambles.  I repeat, Shambles.  That shower of planks don’t know their arses from their elbows.  They are now trying to fix long standing problems with a big name.  Newsflash – it doesn’t matter who manages the team, it won’t make great players magically sprout up out of the ground. 

Think of England, where men that wear skirts sarongs and cheat on their wives with women that pleasure pigs on television can become national heroes (and villains depending on the current scapegoat) and earn unlimited amounts of money.  Now think of Ireland, where football players earn an average wage, earned by their full time jobs.  That’s right, part time footballers are two a penny here.  We need to develop the youngsters, actually properly train players and maybe one day, we will get some decent players.  Constantly.  Not just two every generation. 

Our darling little Taoiseach had his dreams of the Bertie Bowl but he was laughed at.  He is also a bit of a plank and deserves to be laughed at but in fairness a decent football stadium could have been a great starting point and a hell of a lot more useful than the Giant Syringe pretending to be art in the middle of O’Connell Street.  And definitely a lot more useful than the proposed Giant Metal Man they want to put in the River Liffey.  Think of the children…please, think of the children….   Just thinking about it pisses me off.

Anyway, I’ve forgotten my point by now but it seems like people wonder why we lose at everything.   Most countries work harder for their athletes.  I used to love football and I mean love it.  My dream was to go to an Ireland match.  I used to settle for Shels and Pats matches instead which were great craic, don’t get me wrong.  But I always wanted to see Ireland play.  Everyone did.  World Cup, Italia ’90.  I was 7.  I remember the matches, I remember the atmosphere, I remember the love.  Once Charlton went, the love sort of…faded.  People started blaming the managers.  Just for the record, Brian Kerr rocks my world 🙂

So, FAI, if you ever get your act together, maybe you’ll help out our local teams a little bit more.  Maybe if the kid’s football teams had a little bit of proper funding, they might turn out some Eircom League players and maybe the Eircom League players may turn into International football legends and maybe, just maybe, if you put a bit of effort into making Irish football what it could be, our decent players wouldn’t piss off to England to play for real money the first chance they get.

If the FAI bucked up a little, maybe the boys from Crumlin United would have more of a future than playing for Wolves reserve team, maybe Usher Celtic would win a match because they can play rather than their opponents pissing themselves for fear of scoring in case they get stabbed.    Maybe, wankers that make up the FAI, you could think about how you haven’t supported the players or the managers of the Ireland team for fear of getting shit on too.   And, I’m sorry, but how many fecking press conferences does it take you lot to actually spit something out?

In conclusion:  F*%k you FAI, we’ve had enough of your piss taking bolloxology.

 Oh, and…Up the GAA!

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I’m a Planner, Baby…

Just have to say that there is one thing about this blog that always manages to amuse me.  Every single day I log on, there are some really wierd ass searches.  Like…she forced me into a nappy.  I feel sorry for people who search for swinging couples only to find my, mostly moany, blog.  One of my favourite things about blogging is seeing what people search for.  It’s great.  I wonder if, when I search for things and find a completely irrelevant blog as the answer, does the blogger think, wtf? why were they looking for that here?  I’m a boring searcher by all accounts.  I look for things like how to fix my f&%king blog when I’ve changed the template by myself.  That sort of thing. 

 I just want to pat myself on the back a little bit.  I finally made a bit of a plan for Christmas and it turns out that for once, I’m not going to be searching down the back of the sofa for a euro on Christmas eve.  Nice one…   I’ve even been saving up for the last few weeks, oh yeah, uh huh.  But then I realised that there’s one significant difference this year.  I’ll have 500euro in the month of December that I didn’t have before.  I do not like my Government but some of the things they do come in handy at times.  Such as the Childcare Allowance.  Regardless of your family situation, anyone with a child under the age of five receives 250 euro four times a year.  I have two which gives me 500euro four times a year.  It’s supposed to give people an incentive and a bit of help paying for childcare so that more families can have two incomes or can get themselves off various benefits.  A grand a year?  Deadly idea. 

But then you remember that childcare can easily cost more than a grand a month per child so it’s not that helpful after all.  But it is a bit of a lifesaver in December as I’m discovering this year.  Funnily enough, paying childcare for two youngsters even with the Childcare Allowance tends to defeat the purpose of working for a lot of people so I won’t be leaving the home until my babies are in school.  Another lifesaver in December is the monthly Children’s Allowance that anyone, regardless of their circumstances, caring for a child under 16 (or up to something like 21 still attending school or college) gets 160euro a month.  That’s 320euro a month for me, sounds great but it’s going towards my ESB bill.  My electricity bill is a killer.  It’s over 200euro even in summer, including the weeks I housesitted for my mother.  I live in a very cold, expensive shithole 🙂

Before anyone bitches about me for spending the Children’s Allowance on myself, just about everything that goes through my hands gets spent on the kids – the lump sum at the beginning of every month is just easier to hand over to pay for a bill than me saving up, trust me, I can’t be trusted to save…

Back to congratulating myself on my Christmas plan…

We’ve pestered most of our family members into telling us what they want. 

Brother Number One (who still hasn’t accepted his 21st birthday present from two months ago…):   “Nothing.  I’d be much happier if you didn’t get me anything.”

My Mother (on behalf of my little 10 year old brother):   “A game is too expensive.  Just get him 10euro credit for the new phone I’ll be getting him for Christmas.”

My Mother (on behalf of herself):   “10euro for my paypal account.”

 Me (after I tore my hair out in exasperation):   “Ah, come off it!  For f&%k’s sake, just tell me what yis want.  For the Love of God, TELL ME!”

Them (with evil grins on their faces):  Repeat above statements.

I know they’re trying to be nice.  I know they keep telling me I have my own kids to look after but that is not the point!  His family aren’t shy about giving a list, I’d just like a little bit of help with my side, just a little.  What is my mother like asking for 10euro into her paypal account for Christmas? 

So, I made out my own list of what to get them.  The people I haven’t got a clue of will be getting vouchers, yes vouchers.  Particularly as one younger member of his family asked for money to gamble with on Stephen’s Day.  Not bloody likely – that’s Mr. Claire saying that, not me.   Who is a hypocrite by the way because he won money on a racehorse at the weekend…

But I picked a certain amount of gifts for my babies too, didn’t go too mad.  Not really.  I have a rough idea of how much I’ll need and I think that I’m going to make it through Christmas this year (without panicking or freaking out too much).   If you ever spent Christmas near me, you would know how much of an accomplishment this is.  🙂  Can’t wait to send Mr. Claire out go shopping!

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Personal Blogs

I’ve been wondering when personal blogging gets too personal.  Is that even possible?  My last post was pretty personal yet I still held back a good deal.  I was completely honest but there were things that I just couldn’t put into words.  It’s made me wonder whether getting a bit personal is a good idea or not.  There are lots of things I’d love to say to people, not say to them, more like talk about with them but they aren’t willing to talk about those things so I’m left with them floating around in my head.   Let’s just say it’s not good to leave Claire with things floating around in her head…

 I have a bebo page with some short stories on it.  Just a couple of random short stories I typed out at one stage.  I had planned on leaving it at that because they were a bit rubbish and I feel uncomfortable about people reading my stuff although I still leave the link in places, I don’t really think things through…  Even with my blogs, I feel nervous when I post on my blogs…I get anxious about people reading my opinions.  The same goes for when I leave comments, I tend to feel horrible and I don’t know really know why.   Short stories – yeah, so I decided to leave them at that then one day, I had a little bit of a memory and I picked up the keyboard as quick as possible, opened Word and wrote this really personal memory down and…posted it on the Internet for the world to see. 

 I should take it down…I know I should, the story would have consequences if the wrong person read it but I’m a bit stubborn about it.  I guess when I’ve been told to shut up about things for so long, eventually I have to do something about it.   Even something silly and pointless.  It’s not that the details within the story are so bad…they are really small and pretty much vague glimpses of a bigger picture but if I was capable of sharing little glimpses, then maybe I would be capable of sharing all of the details too.  I’m torn between feeling guilty and stubborn.  I should be able to say these things but people could get hurt from them and a lot of time has passed for so many things, would there really be a point in bringing them up now?  Even when nobody is listening?

I even hold back when I write stories that nobody else is ever going to see.  That can’t be right…I find it very difficult to write about things that have actually happened in my life but surely that should be the easiest thing of all to write about.  I don’t know why I have such a block about it but even though I know full well I’m the only one who will see it, I still just can’t get the words out.   I suppose that’s partly why I’m so surprised (and so stubborn) about that certain story.

I sometimes wonder why I could leave that particular story where it is and yet still never talk about really personal things on my blogs.   Some small part of me wants very badly to tell the world about certain things and the rest of me really wants to protect people from it.  I have always been full of contradictions, I realise that but maybe I’ve had too much time to mull things over lately because a lot of stuff has been playing on my mind.

There are some things that I’m really, truely, endlessly sad about and would love to talk about with people but what would be the point?  Nobody can take things away or make things better so why burden other people with problems that can’t be resolved?  Sometimes I think that nobody can ever say the right thing when a person has something inside that’s constantly there that makes them hurt.  Whether it’s the loss of a loved one, a serious illness or being the victim of abuse or any other sort of problem, millions of people go through really bad things in life but do any of them ever know what to say to someone else?

Yes, yesterday’s post was personal but it was all about me.  It was all about my wrong doings, my mistakes.  If I were to write about a lot of the things I want to say, I would have to point out the mistakes of others and is it up to me to do that?  I don’t think so.  I would be shaming people anonymously but I don’t think that’s really the issue.  Maybe I don’t have the right to tell my stories because they are other people’s stories as well.  That’s the thing about personal blogs, where is the line that you’re not supposed to cross?  Is getting personal a bad thing?

I really enjoyed writing that post yesterday though and the 7 random facts post too.  Even though I’m questioning myself today about getting personal, it was really nice to share some things with you all.  Thanks for reading through yet another waffley post…I’ll try and learn to be concise some day…;)

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Confessions Of The Other Woman

I finished my 7 random facts meme instead of writing this post but I’m going to get rid of it now before I fall into another sleep that keeps me offline.  I’ve been really sick at the moment and haven’t been online much.  I’ve been reading blogs through my feeder mostly.  My first random fact was about this particular story.  By the way, certain things might be a bit uncomfortable reading, I haven’t written them yet but I’ve sort of promised myself not to hold back too much.  Fair warning!

 But anyway, not the point, the little I have been online, I’ve spent in a few places.  One is on Guilty Secret’s blog reading about her experiences with cocaine and I’ve also been on blogcatalog where I noticed a discussion about Being the Other Person.  I’ve replied to both in the negative – I can’t pat anyone on the back for doing coke or for helping somebody cheat.  But both of these pieces of writing reminded me of something in my past that I don’t talk about much.  There’s a lot in my past that I don’t talk about but this particular one is because I’m ashamed about something I did rather than something that was done to me.  There is a difference.

When I tell people this story, they don’t believe me because I’m “not that type of person” but apparently I am, or at least was.  Feel free to judge because I judge myself for it and rightly so.  It wasn’t nice and it wasn’t right and nothing I can say can make up for it.

 Once upon a time, I was 19 years old.  In some ways, I was street wise but in others I was pretty naive.  I didn’t think that people had ulterior motives for whatever they did.  I worked in a certain place that ran courses.  There was a high turnover of people but most of them stayed for up to six months at a time.  The job I had there, I got to know everyone’s name and most people knew me too.  I made friends with people, got close to people and learned a huge lesson from that.

I had a boyfriend, he lived far away from me and was about four years older than me.  He didn’t put much effort into spending time with me until it was too late so inevitably it ended messily.  He wouldn’t take no for an answer but I had already moved on.  Meanwhile a man started at my place of work, he was in his late 20’s at the time.  Very good looking man, charming with it but cocky, very cocky.  All of the girls and women in the building were mad after him, except me.

I did not like that man.  I made a snap judgement on him based on the few things I saw and disliked him intensely.  One day, he made some smarmy remarks to me and I told him out straight to give it over.  I even told him how much I disliked him.  I felt so bad because he looked like he’d been slapped in the face.  I’m always too honest about how I’m thinking but I really didn’t expect it to bother him of all people.  (And yes, I’m getting to my point)

From that day, he made it his mission to be nice to me.  For a couple of months he made excuses to be around me, he talked to me properly – without the sleaze or charm.  I started to like him, I thought that I had been wrong about him.  I was vulnerable and he was coercive in a non-obvious way.  We talked about our relationships.  I told him how badly things were going with my boyfriend and he told me how badly things were going with his girlfriend.  He advised me to end things and eventually I did. 

I found myself attracted to him, I admit that much but I was never a person to go after somebody who wasn’t available.  It took me a long time to even see him as a man if that makes sense.  A couple of people commented on him always being around me, it became a bit of a joke for a lot of people but I laughed it off, we were friends, can’t that be possible?

One day, I can’t remember what but I did something for him that helped him out in some way…he kissed me to say thanks and ran off.  I swear to God I didn’t expect that.  But it sort of opened up a can of worms.  I hung around near where he lived with a close friend of mine, I used to visit her and her baby a lot.  One time, shortly after that, he spotted me going home and gave me a lift.  He left me home and the tension was unreal.  I knew he had a girlfriend but I didn’t even think about that.  Once I went inside he texted me and asked me to go for a drive with him.  I said yes. 

We went on a long drive and ended up at the beach where we talked for about three hours.  He had a son that lived with him but the grandmother used to mind him at night.  We got on really well and I was really comfortable with him when he kissed me again, properly.  It was amazing, I love first kisses but I won’t go into that 🙂  Some people you just connect to in certain ways, everything they do is right and my mind went out the window.  I pulled away, told him to stop, he said sorry, rinse, repeat, rinse, repeat.  Eventually I gave up, gave in and that was that.

We used to go for drives a lot. At night, during my lunch break, weekends.  All we did was talk and have sex.  He was a lot more experienced than me…he took it easy with me, never tried to push anything onto me.  He was incredibly sweet for the most part.  He told me how he had cheated on his girlfriend lots of times, that she knew about it and that he didn’t want to be with her anymore.  I didn’t ask him why.  He told me how someone he had cheated with had told his girlfriend and he had tried to run her over with his car.  I actually thought he was joking.

He used to smoke hash a lot, because he had an accident that left him with pretty permanent back pain.  I didn’t approve of that of course but if it helped him with the pain, I couldn’t stop him.  He never forced me to sit there while he smoked hash, he always asked first but I started to feel bad for him having to be cold so I let it go in the end.  Sometimes he’d get moody, even a little bit scary and I realized he hadn’t been joking about running that girl over.  I wasn’t scared of what he’d do to me, but I knew that maybe sometimes he was capable of certain things.

I’m not telling this exactly right but I’ve never really said all the details before and I want to get them out.  Once his girlfriend rang him while he was with me and I made him take me home straight away.  Suddenly, she was a real person to me and the guilt cut through me.  But the next day, his words made me forget about her again.  A couple of times we spent the whole night together, I met his son, some of his family knew about me, his friends knew about me but it was still a secret.  I still don’t know why he took his son over to meet me. 

Anyway, I should say something here, when it came to sex, I wanted it a lot.  I enjoyed it immensely.  He couldn’t keep up with me.  I know I sound a bit nympho-tastic here but it wasn’t like that.  I realise now that although I enjoyed it, it wasn’t satisfying me, that’s why I wanted it so much.  But I loved the effect I had on him, I loved how he couldn’t resist even when he was late for something else.  I loved the power.  We used to do it as often as possible, even in my office once…And all the time, I didn’t think about the effect I was having on another person’s life.  So we spent nights together…I didn’t know it at the time but he was using coke like viagra.  We spent a certain night together and I was afraid of him all the way through it.  He was like an animal, the look in his eye freaked me out, he was so rough (and not in a good way!), I was bruised all over the next day.

It was only afterwards I copped on what the deal was with him…why he had been so aggressive…probably why he had tried to run that girl over.  His friend had been out with us and was selling coke while I was in the bathroom.  They never did it in front of me and they never offered me any.   He didn’t want that.  Make of that what you will.  But he had been taking drugs for so long that his mind was different.  It was really starting to affect him in the worst way.  I grew up in some of the worst parts of Dublin, went to school and even worked in them.  I’ve gotten used to the way people change when they’ve been taking any kind of drug long-term.  It’s just a sad fact at this stage.

He had a split personality, I ended up hated him while he was on anything.  I started to even dread him smoking a joint because I knew he would act differently afterwards.  He would switch from being a lovely, thoughtful, caring bloke to a monster that had no feelings whatsoever.  That was the cost of our nights out, realising that he didn’t care how he hurt people anymore.  He didn’t care what he was doing, I suppose that’s why cheating came so easily for him, he couldn’t feel guilt or remorse anymore.  I never wanted to go out with his friends again because of how he would be after it and I think he knew it himself in a way because he stopped.

So, I just want to point out that at this stage, I was crazy about this man, I wanted to turn a blind eye to the way he acted when he took drugs, I wanted to turn a blind eye to the girlfriend he had too.  He was the perfect boyfriend if you didn’t think about the aggressiveness when he took coke, the real girlfriend and the little psychotic episodes!  He was nice too though, he was the sweetest, nicest, funniest person around during the day.  Then I had a sort of pregnancy scare, I missed a pill, then my period didn’t arrive.  My friend made me tell him, just in case.   His first words to me were – “Nobody can know about this.”

The little bit of respect for him that I had was slowly dissolving.  I was a mess.  I couldn’t stay away from him and I couldn’t be with him because he was manipulating me a lot.  There are lots of other instances that I don’t want to get into.  So one day, we sat in the pub with my friends.  He kept telling people how beautiful I was, that I drove him crazy, all kinds of crap like that.  I had been slowly dealing with the fact that this man was not good for me and I had no future with him.  But he was so…I don’t know what the word is but I think I was addicted to him a little bit 🙂

Later that day he put his arm around me, kept whispering things to me.  He talked about love, he told me that the girlfriend was buying a house for her, him and his kid.  I told him he had better move then.  He asked me, “How can I move in with her when I’m in love with somebody else?”  That got to me.  I thought about his girlfriend, how she must really love him to be prepared to do that for him and his son.  I looked him straight in the eye and told him he wasn’t in love with anyone else.  It was just sex for him.  He got really offended but who knows if that was in any way “real”. 

We had a huge fight but I needed to do something more.  I needed to keep him away from me because I knew that was the only way it would end.  I couldn’t say no so he had to.  I didn’t want him using me as an excuse…I didn’t want him using me full stop.  So, and here’s another really horrible thing, I kissed another bloke in front of him.  That did it.

I didn’t want to but I felt like I had to.  I didn’t want to be the one fucking up that girl’s idea of a happy home.  And I didn’t want to be made to feel like it was all about love when it couldn’t have been.  Afterwards my friend told me that he said he hated me, wanted nothing to do with me, that how could I be with him and then kiss someone else?  So that’s my confession, although admitting it to the world of blogs doesn’t make it one iota better.  I willingly became the Other Woman.  I don’t know if he even felt anything for me, but I did for him.   But I am so glad I pulled away when I did.  I felt incredibly bad for the real girlfriend, I felt bad for her mostly because she was the one putting up with it all.  I heard that they broke up afterwards but I don’t know if that’s true.  I was a horrible person to even consider doing that to another woman but I learned my lesson from it.  I hate that kind of person!!

There are a couple of things that were good about it.  I learned that older men can easily manipulate idiots like me…I vowed that I would never go near a man that took drugs again and that I would never go near a man that already had a girlfriend or wife or whatever…and not much later, I found the love of my life.  I wouldn’t have even seen him if things hadn’t ended when they did so I’m thankful for that.  So even though things were bad for me for a while, I got off lightly and I’m the lucky one.  Doesn’t seem fair…

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