Day 52.1.

"I adore you Hannah. Never change. Always write what you feel xx"

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She is right. Entirely. I should write what I feel. I shouldn't feel the need to hold back when that is not what this blog was designed for. It was designed to be my medium of release. My outlet and source of closure on feelings that may be were haunting me.

I am of the understanding that there are a select few people who do not like what I write. I'm afraid, as much as I don't want to upset anyone, I  would like people to actually read my words properly rather than making opinions and judgements without understanding. I am not affected that people don't enjoy my blog because for every one person who dislikes it I receive numerous more praising it. I have been writing a lot lately about how happy I am, speaking about relationships and whatever else comes to my mind. I would like to make a public apology to anyone I have upset through this. Even though I shouldn't have to. I would also like to point out that anything I do write regarding being happier now and any relationship item is not directly aimed at my most recent ex. For reasons, which I don't need to discuss, we broke up. We had some wonderful years together and that is all that I will be saying on it. I have not, and will not, insult him or what we had because, at the time, we were happy and they are memories I will be keeping for a life time. If I do reference any past relationships they are from a long time ago when the men I chose were not men but petty little boys. 

I would like to be able to move on with my life without the judgement that I am moving on too quickly or I am a heartless cow because, in all honesty, I am not heartless in any sense of the word. I have done my grieving for the situation and I have always been of the mindset that positivity is the only way to cope. I will continue to use this as my way of moving on from situations so I hope those of you, who are unhappy with my movement to happiness, understand this. You can't remain unhappy about something that you know isn't right, even if society tries to border a time limit around it all.

Hannah xox

Day 52.

Oh. What's occurring? 

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Today I woke up with that seemingly common expression of mine lately. That daft grin on my face. That unbelievably ridiculous face that says 'I am far too happy I think I might burst'. The kind of face that can only imply that I, Miss Hannah Louise Case, am one happy little bean with no inclination to feel bad about anything ever again. This is surreal. It's surreal because this isn't natural to me. I am not used to this feeling. Not for this length of time anyway. I feel refreshed. Brand new. Uncontrollably relaxed and content. I go to bed with my jaw aching from smiling so much. 

I decided this morning that today was to be a bra-less, make up free kind of day with plenty of Marvin Gaye, London Grammar and Karima Francis easy listening joys. Not forgetting Maverick Sabre too of course. That voice is far too fuckable. Coupled with the Snapchats I am getting and speaking to Ronnie, it's going splendidly thus far. I really don't understand what I have done to deserve being so content. Maybe karma is finally showing up and giving me a break. Fingers crossed the baddies get their comeuppance soon too. "Lies, lies, your beautiful lies are bewitching their minds and blinding their eyes." 

I was not supplied with breasts in this life time for some reason. Stupid. Yet my fascination with them is pretty much on par with my admiration for Gavin and Stacy or Dawn French who, ironically, has tits the size of Everest. They have such daft names too. Bangers, baps, fun bags, jugs, boobs etc. They are the source of hours of amusement. Well they are for me anyway; especially when Bird let's me motorboat her. My practically flat chest is joyous and I am not particularly interested in bumping them up to the size where you have to carry them around in a wheelbarrow all day. I can jump, I don't get back ache, I don't have stretch marks and I don't get gawped at. Unless, of course, I have used my magic trick and allowed myself a slight cleavage on a Friday night just so Bird can motorboat me. Grief, I really should reassess my relationship with her. It's just wrong on every level possible. 

Tomorrow I begin my directing debut. All assuming people entertain the possibility of rehearsals on a Tuesday, otherwise I will be having a fairly mediocre winter with no joyous acting to enjoy for a few months. I will have to sit, in charge of a group of seasoned directing 'pros', and pitch my ideas and not allow anyone to interfere. This is the only downside to doing this. People assume their roles before I have chance to even decide myself. I will be shaking a few things up in my little world of am-dram and I will be interested to see who sticks around once I've done so. I am still nervous though. Luckily I have my producer to do all the boring bits that I don't want to do and he is one of the loveliest people ever. I am like some weird superhuman to them that knows it all apparently considering their meagre acting experience and the fact I have studied both drama and performing arts. It's always 'ask Hannah, she will know. She can make this better.' And so I will.

I had a fantastic opportunity arise yesterday evening that, if I hadn't bothered to read, I would have missed altogether. An opportunity for me to potentially, in the future, become paid for my writing. An opportunity I would be a fool to miss considering my mind is only settled once I have written. I am going to put my heart and soul in to it as I will, of course, be mainly writing about dating and sex which, seem to be something I like writing about...

Excuse me whilst I go and compose myself from the overly girly and blushing wreck that I have just been reduced to.

Hannah xox

Day 51.1.

It had all become a little surreal. In such a short space of time she had her eyes opened to how good life could actually be. She saw what she wanted and she was sure as hell going to get it.

*

After a disastrous evening of work last night I decided the only remedy for it was a hot bath and some Wuthering Heights. I should have really had Kate Bush blaring out in the background too but I didn't want to traumatise myself too much before bed, if I could help it. My night, from that point, turned out to be truly amazing.

I began trawling the internet again for more interviews with Caitlin Moran. Earlier this year I began idolising this phenomenal power house of a woman. My love for her grew even more when I was aware of her use of the C word on a regular basis and her passion for gin. Not only does she encompass pretty much everything I have always aspired to be; successful, funny, witty, passionate, bolshy, she also is an incredible writer. For that, I will adore her forever. 

An hour or so went by of me listening to Caitlin discussing all manner of different topics from pubic hair, what word to refer to your vagina as and abortion, I began thinking about things I was facing now. Don't ask how I have linked this to my next ramblings but there must be a reason in my head why. It's just a case of never knowing what. 

I began wondering about the horrible term 'rebound' and why we seem to think it is a justifiable word to use. I dislike it. For many reasons. Rebound implies that, whatever I am feeling is invalid and is because I am not 'over' someone and it also suggests that, in a sense, I am merely using another person to cope with the trauma of my break up. Wrong. Who is to say that you have to have a rebound? How long is the period you have to be single until people will accept that any new interest is not actually a rebound but could be something more? Put it this way. A couple are together for some time, he/she cheats and falls in love with the other person. The couple breaks up and the cheating party remain together. Does the other woman/man now count as a rebound, or is he/she an escape for that person? Are they a rebound because they are the next in line of current partners? No. That's my point.

I messaged a good friend of mine earlier about it. I felt silly asking. It felt as though I had to ask permission to wonder whether I was allowed to date again only a month or so after leaving my partner. It was as though I was seeking society's approval to go out and have a good time with other like minded people. Does the length of time you were with a person relate to how long you have to have free from another relationship or a date? Is there an amount of time in which we must mourn the relationship we have lost even if that relationship died ages before the actual and, official, break up? I hope you all realise that it isn't an official break up until it's no longer on Facebook. This is the problem. You could be in a lacklustre relationship for years, putting off breaking up with the other person because you are scared what will happen afterwards or you have put up with so much you just think this is the norm. Does that mean that, if you've only broken up with a person recently that you are not entitled to do what the hell your heart and head are telling you? Being given appropriate time scales for doing different things is surely a waste of life. 

As much as I've been adamant that I am sworn off men for the forseeable future, it doesn't mean I won't accept the possibility of it happening. I am content being single. I can now live my life how I want it entirely, without any fear of saying the wrong thing, not supporting them enough or complimenting the size of their dick. I don't have to stress about anything. I only hope that in time I find someone who allows me to live in the way I want without trying to control me or change me. Yet, if they do it should only be for the better.

In some respect I am quite nervous about being with someone else. Not because I don't feel I deserve to be happy but because it is all so different. I've gotten in such a routine with past relationships that they have all, bar one, been fairly similar in how they've gone. I am scared of meeting someone out of my 'comfort zone' and being too afraid to go for it when in actual fact they could be the best person for me. I don't fear being single, I fear losing me again.

So bollocks to any idea of rebound and it's effects. If it makes you happy and the other person then bloody well go and do it. Live your life the way you want to and take risks. We have such a short time here that I just can't justify missing out on anything just because it isn't 'appropriate' to do so.

Hannah xox

Day 51.

She was a little confused with herself. Her mind wasn't sure what was going on but she knew she liked it all the same.

*

Bob is cute. He makes me laugh a lot. Just thought you should know...

Oh and I am too tired for the mundane b.s of work today :)

Hannah xox

Day 50.1.

She tried so hard to be someone she wasn't. Coming in to her own was her only option now. Sink or swim. Was she really that bad a person?

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Dear Daddy,

If you're reading this, I strongly advise against it. Your little girl isn't so little now. Remember the stork story and be content with it. This isn't going to be pleasant for you. Or anyone else, probably.

Love you forever you hunk of a man,

Lil bean xox

*

Every Monday I have had to listen to 2 women discussing the world and putting it to rights. It's the same things most weeks. The intake of breath when they refer to gays/lesbians, the disapproval in their voices, their opinions on the youth of today, their love of moaning, their traditional values. Now, I'm all for traditional. Hell yes. I love it. As I've blogged before I want the traditional family life whenever I actually grow up and I want a traditional wedding and a traditional home life. Not too much to ask but far too hard to find.

The conversation they were having today was the 'promiscuity of women'. Interesting I thought, considering I have the libido of a dog on heat. Does that make me promiscuous, a slut, a wanton woman? Is it a bad thing to like sex? It is a much more freely discussed topic nowadays and most people aren't ashamed to admit to liking a bit of slap and tickle.

These 2 ladies were saying how in 'their day' it would be an outrage if a woman was known to sleep with more than 1 man or, heaven forbid, enjoy doing it! It was all so secretive, as though it was a bad thing to do. Despite it being one of the most natural of human urges. The way in which life is created. The only time, or so it seemed from the way they were talking, sex was an option was when you wanted to have a baby, not because you could really do with an orgasm after a hard day at work? (It is the best cure for stress, trust me.) They commented how a woman would be shamed for freely admitting to having a sex life. They never mentioned anything about men being shamed for it though. Guess, that hasn't changed too much then...

It does seem like you fellas really can get around and it's a positive thing yet, if us ladies do it we are slags. Go figure. It is becoming more commonly accepted that it is a more even playing field now though. We aren't encouraged to cheat, catch every STD under the sun or screw hundreds of people but we are allowed to give in to our desires a little more freely than before. The comment of all comments came when, the lady I actually visit, said (and point out she isn't that keen on me, or so it seems) "Girls of today really ain't like 'ow we were. They're all like 'er out in the kitchen. Doing daft fings to their hair and that, sleeping about, gettin' an 'ouse from the council, not working, or working very little. They're all lazy. Not like it was in our day." Wow. It always astounds me as to how she really thinks I can't hear her talking about me one room away. Of course, she doesn't know my sexual activity and neither do I to be honest lately but still I, because I am fairly young, am being cast under the general umbrella of joy that is 'the youth of today.' I am of this generation thus meaning I sleep about, take drugs, drink too much and have no respect for anyone. (Her description, not mine.)

Should I be ashamed or embarrassed for enjoying sex? Should I have stopped and waited to be married before I sailed away on the S.S Shagfest? No. 

Another thing I don't understand is why is there such a big hoo-ha over how old you were when you lost your virginity? Does it actually matter that much? Of course, if you were ridiculously young then fair enough but jeez! I don't get why it is such a momentous time in someone's life. I never have understood it and I never will I'm afraid. Plus, why does it matter how many people you've slept with? Don't even get me started on the pubic hair debate...

The ladies were content in their beliefs and that's fine by me but in my opinion, fuck it, it's only sex...

Hannah xox

Day 50.

Tut tut. Was regret going to come in to play today or was she so damn happy she didn't care? 

*

For the last couple of days I haven't been able to stop smiling. Perhaps I should see a doctor, could just be cramp...

This weekend has been amazing. All of it. Every single bit. Being too drunk on Friday and wandering around town to being thrown around in the back of the car to having my hair stroked by numerous people because they liked the colour. It has been immense. It's weekends like that, that make me appreciate being single. A lot. I can eye up as many women as I choose and that's always a good thing. Hmmm. The fact I got the most amazing massage in the club probably topped the weekend off. This man has hands of a God. No word of a lie.

I've come to realise, more so than before, how amazing my friends are. Seriously. I have some real good eggs around me nowadays and I wouldn't change them for the world. After not eating for quite some time I was beginning to get the shakes. Not good when you're playing with syringes in clients houses. This one particular friend, actually turned up on a clients road armed with a sausage sandwich and a coke, just to make sure I ate something. Now, if that's not a good friend I don't know what is. Apparently 'wine isn't a stable diet' but I beg to differ. It's done wonders for me. Not so much my liver. So, after having people who are not only amazingly amazing but also fit as fuck, I am in a pretty good mood.

I feel under a fair bit of pressure now. Knowing that certain people are reading what I write. Not that I should mind but I feel as though I have to censor more of it. Or I should censor more of it. Clearly my potty mouth isn't going away any time soon and the fact I am desperate to write a blog dedicated to orgasms, I may need a NSFW label attached to it. The awkward thing about writing about sex, or anything related to it, is how uncomfortable it makes my dad and it's hilarious. He's not one to mince his words and his swearing vocabulary is definitely why I am like this now but he cannot stand the fact that all 3 of his daughters are probably sexually active and it's great. I'm pretty sure he convinced himself that my sister didn't actually have sex to produce my gorgeous nephew. He is probably still falling for the stork story. Bless.

No sleep has left me feeling pretty rotten and I've now got to put up with a 2 hour call with a woman who dislikes me because I don't bitch about the company. Fun times.

Not long til nap time. Not long til nap time. Not long til na...

Hannah xox

Day 49.

She was having feelings that she hadn't had for a while. Her heart beat that little bit faster. Her mind was wild with ideas. She felt alive again.

*

Don't dye your hair red if you like your bedding to stay the colour you bought it. I woke up this morning and have seen my pillow. Good God. Originally it was brown. Not any more. It's horrific but so worth it. Last night I had a few random people come over and say how much they love my hair. This makes me love it even more. People seem so much more friendly in Kingston than anyone in Eastbourne on a night out. If someone bumps in to you they say sorry or they chat to you like an old friend. Eastbourne is a whole different kettle of fish.

I have had the best weekend. I am hungover, unbelievably. It is awful. I have work in an hour or so and I, hand on heart, don't actually know how I am going to manage it. The thought of 1) driving around and 2) being really friendly when all I want to do is stay in bed, eat and sleep, is tough. Why did I agree to do these extra shifts on my weekend off? I am a fool and should stop agreeing to stuff without thinking it through properly. Either that, or stop going out. Probably the latter is the best solution but I like going out. Too much lately. 

I've seen a real change in myself over the last couple of weeks. I feel more confident in myself. More self assured. Happier to try new things and live my life how I want it. I have been introduced to some really amazing people too. I would never have met them if I hadn't taken this path. I am so happy with my decision. It truly has been the best thing I have done in a while. It's the best decision I have gone through with. I know for a fact that some people aren't happy with how I've changed but what they don't realise is that everyone has to change. Perhaps some of the ways I am changing is not the best in the eyes of others. Right now, it is getting me through and that's all that matters. 

Hannah xox