A little something about me

Friday, 29 November 2013

Day 138.

What more could you want from life?
*
Another day, another conversation about men and sex. Generally our car journeys consist of me listening. Perhaps with the occasional shocked outburst or laugh yet, generally, I kept quiet. I didn't have much choice usually. I was the person chosen for the task of listening. I liked it. Considering I tended to laugh the entire time. I am sure there are more of these to come.

Yesterday morning was different though. The dynamic had changed. It was my turn to speak. Fill in the awkward silences where I had said something that was possibly too much for some people. She didn't care. She just listened and laughed. A lot. There was the occasional 'poor you' comment but all in all, I spoke. 

I had gone on to the subject of piss poor sex. What else would people be talking about at half 8 in the morning?! We had established that it seemed to be a taboo. Sex was only ever discussed, usually, if it was good or someone's pretending it was good. I didn't hold back. As if I ever would. I was telling my lovely friend all about my shocking encounters and looking back, they were all pretty hilarious. If I had the same mindset then, as I do now, I would have left a lot sooner than I did. 

There was once a time I was 'seeing' a guy. He was lovely, easy to talk to. I can't think of much else to be honest. There then came a time where I went to his after we'd met a few times and we sat down to watch a film. Of course, the inevitable 'snuggling' happened and we all know where that can lead. In all honesty, I wasn't really feeling it. I, in truth, had no real interest in getting any from this person at all however, one thing lead to another. What can I say? I was swept up in the moment. (Don't panic, I won't divulge the gruesome details too much!) So, we made it to the bedroom. This pleased me. That sofa wasn't very comfortable anyway. So, things were occurring. Mainly for him more so than me. Events unfolded. Events very quickly nearly ended. 1 minute in. Are you kidding me? I let that go, it wasn't a problem. I wasn't that fussed anyway. The finale is my highlight of this story. Events stopped, briefly and then resumed. "Okay," I thought "This isn't going to happen for me here. Ever." I had resigned myself to the outcome of dull, lacklustre fucking pretty quickly. In fact, I had worked that out from the start. Events came to their conclusion. Thank God. It was all done and dusted. Now, I could leave. 

Despite the noises being somewhat passionate, there was no passion occurring in any part of my body whatsoever. On reflection, I do feel sorry for the guys who do a hit and run. This was my attempt at one and it worked nicely. I feel sorry for the fellas that finish off and have to perform the usual cuddle after sex routine. To be honest, all I ever want to do, after having good sex, is go to sleep. In this instance all I wanted to do was run away. So, returning back to the story. He finished, I sat up, got dressed to his amazement. No hug, no tea, no fag, just home. He asked where I was going. I turned, pushed my hair back as I always do and uttered "Home." Well, his face was a picture to behold. I don't know if it was shock, disappointment or relief (he was clearly tired from all the effort he had put in...) I put my shoes on, said my goodbyes and didn't look back. I haven't spoken to him since.

From this story, I'd like to share with you a picture I found which tickles me immensely.
Now, for all you menfolk out there who don't want women to go around laughing and/or writing blogs about you I would suggest you take note. 

Ladies, there comes a time where it is important you say what you want. Seriously. It is, as I'm sure many of you know, a horrible, horrible experience just feeling as though you're a prop as opposed to part of the action. You were not designed to lay there and take it. You are not a man's play thing and you most certainly don't deserve bad sex. We all deserve beautiful orgasms with rainbows and unicorns dancing around. Whatever, it doesn't matter. I'm not saying every single time needs to be some sort of acrobatic display. You just need to be involved. It took me a long time to actually say to men 'do this, do that, up a bit, slower, faster.' I was always afraid that it was the wrong thing to do. It's not the wrong thing to do. It's the best thing to do. 

Bad sex shouldn't be tolerated and, for me, it's one of the important deal breakers in a relationship. Try before you buy is what my friend said to me. She has a point. It's something I may have to investigate. 

Sex is an equal thing. One of you may get more of a treat than others on occasion but ultimately you should be sharing the wealth. Men, you should be helping your lady out. Warm the oven before you put your meat in to roast. Ladies, you shouldn't expect him to do all the work. Get down on it as Kool and the Gang would say, or if that's not your thing at least do something than just lay there! Orgasms do not occur by being still. Just saying...

Anyway, I think I've scarred you enough for one day. Don't forget there's no shame in enjoying being naughty...

Hannah xox
 

Tuesday, 26 November 2013

Day 135.

She was always on her best behaviour. Trying to make everyone realise she wasn't the one at fault. They didn't care. They never did. Hold her back, hold him captive. He had no chance against them. She broke away. Ignoring their lies and general bullshit ways. He clung to them more and more. Pity really.
*
Today I've been productive. I checked over my first essay, finished writing my second and made a start on my case study, all to the disapproval of Stephend who had not quite got that far. I was pleased with myself. I am pleased with myself. I've realised more so today how similar I am to Stephend. We say the same things at the same time, we both have a 'don't give a shit' attitude and combined we have all the illnesses known to man! Well, it seems that way.

I, unfortunately, saw a photo of a girl I dislike more than anything earlier and it got me thinking. For a start, I should say, I don't dislike many people but she is definitely one. I have no respect for 'women' who think it's okay to hit on your fella whilst you're with him. I also have no respect for 'women' who think that if they pretend to be thick as shit it's endearing. It's not. You're a dick. Anyway, I saw the photo, with a gut wrenching pang of displeasure and wondered why there seems to be so many girls around like that. It seems being a clone is the way forward. 

It would be wrong of me to generalise all of them however, this one person is literally everything I dislike about girls my age. Fake, fake, fake. I don't understand it, why would you dumb yourself down for the attentions of a man? Is he really worth all the hassle if he's not interested in anything apart from your tits? No, in my opinion, quite frankly he sounds like a plonker. It's so sad to see as well. For all these girls with amazing potential to do something incredible with their lives they merely focus on what they look like and bitch about girls who bitch despite being bitches themselves. Very confusing nature. 

After speaking to a few people, I have found that apparently, according to them, they can't find any decent girls. For a start, what constitutes as a decent girl? I know plenty deserving of love yet they are still single. Why though? These menfolk say that brains are more important and they'd rather spend time with someone who is easy to talk to and interesting yet, I can almost guarantee that if a bit of skirt went by their attention would be turned. In some ways, that's bound to happen, it is nature yet wouldn't it be lovely to find a man who, rather than be captivated by your cleavage, is fascinated by you as a person. First impressions of course hinder the opportunity to impress a potential partner as we are greeted by what we see rather than a sandwich board with a list of our fantastic personality traits. This could be a new way of doing things...

Sadly for me, I will never be a stunner. The ring in my nose is the first hindrance due to it not being what is deemed an 'ideal' thing to have. Secondly, I don't possess the body of a Goddess more a chubby 13 year old girl who's been stretched. It's really a good look, I can assure you. Yet, I am not disheartened that I will never be 'fit' and people won't take a second glance to see this vision of beauty walking in to a bar. No, the only second glances I get are to double check it's time to get the harpoon out.

It would most definitely be lovely to find a man who can tolerate me. I say tolerate deliberately because I am assured I am hard work. Purely for my argumentative and passionate nature. Of course, I don't argue for the sake of it but I do stick up for things I believe in. It would be lovely to find a man who supports me in everything I do, one that will take the piss out of me, one that will like the fact I don't pretend to be stupid. A man, basically. For all the girls who only have the desired aim in life to be a brain dead clone they can have the boys. Us ladies deserve the real mean who are capable of holding a conversation with someone with more than 2 brain cells. I can dream...

Hannah xox


Monday, 25 November 2013

Day 134.1.

When I was a little girl all I wanted to do was write. It was all I thought about and it was all I did. I would sit in my room writing, for hours on end. Music playing in the background, listening to the charts and then taping them. Old school. I'd write poems, stories, anything that came in to my mind I wrote down. With time I've realised that this may just only be a dream but I won't stop writing. My blog is here for people to love or hate which in turn will lead them to love or hate me. This is my honest account, brutally honest at times, of my life and how I see the world each day. 
*
Today I'm feeling a little down. Only a little, mind. I'm feeling a little lost.

I've never been the girl with lots of friends. That has never been me. I've always been the one with close friends. Lately, it feels, my close friends seem to be getting further and further away. One has moved to Camber to pursue his loves, one is in Australia and another is possibly moving up t'north. Okay, so they are all varying degrees of distance but it does make me wonder whether I should be moving too. I love where I live. I am blessed to be surrounded by beautiful countryside within a village of mostly, wonderful people. I look at the people who I value to be my closest friends and I get scared. I am scared that perhaps I will be left here alone with no one. A friend of mine who resides in Eastbourne seems the most distant of them all. She's busy and I understand that. We have conflicting free time so it's harder for me to see her but still, it would be nice, just now and again, to get a text which seems such a difficult thing to do for me. It does hurt, I admit. I feel, at times, I am putting in more effort than I'm getting back. I feel left out of her life when, once upon a time, I was a huge part of it. 

The other problem I have is that I am no good at making friends. People have this assumption of me that I am aggressive or whatever. This, simply, isn't the case. I am fierce for the people I love and the things I care about. There are those who cling to the past and insist on repeating old, distant memories. I have changed. Dramatically. Yet there are still some who are determined to hold me back at the same point I was at years ago. It's getting old. My lack of friend making skills is something I've had since childhood. I've always made a friend and kept them close. They become precious to me. I think it's my passion that could scare people. I am headstrong, determined and passionate. Something I seem to find lacking in a lot of other people. Not in my close friends though. They are all the same as me and I support them with everything I have. It has been odd though. Losing a friend to the other side of the planet, only to find that from that, we have become closer. Without her encouragement I would be lost entirely.

Perhaps I shouldn't feel despondent. There, in truth, is no real need for it. I, as well as my friends, are doing amazing things with their lives. The only difference is, they have made dramatic changes, whereas I, have merely made little steps towards who I want to be. I guess that isn't a bad thing. At least I am moving forwards rather than being stuck in some 3 years ago rut with the same people, the same places, the same attitude. Maybe it's maturity that's scaring me. 

I am still happy lovely reader. I still have my PMA and nothing can change that. I just think that maybe, just maybe, I feel like something is missing. I think it's time I made a conscientious effort with people who I like a lot yet don't spend time with when I should. Maybe I should broaden my horizons even more. Stretch my belief in possibilities further than I thought possible. I have a lot to be thankful for. I just wish I could plonk everyone in one place and live in a hobbit hole with them.

Hannah xox 

Day 134.

Sometimes it was difficult to understand what she had done wrong. What she had said to make him leave. Why he felt it necessary to mess her around. They had all said it was a 'man' thing but maybe it's the fact he isn't a proper man that he did this. Maybe men would act like men, rather than silly little boys trying to impress their friends. She didn't know.
*
For some delightful reason I woke up at 3:25am. I am quite unimpressed by this. I got home from a stressful evening of work and anticipated catching up on a bit of TV I had missed. It started well. Until I fell asleep. The second night in a row where I get comfy and end up sleeping through everything I wanted to watch, only to wake up at half 11 to the surprise of my TV being on and it not being morning. So here I am, under 3 hours in and I am bored. It's the time of the morning where you can't really do anything. As I live with my parents it makes life even harder. I can't just potter about the flat and do bits and pieces. I am confined to my room, Twitter whilst the dreaded essay sits waiting to my right. 

Uni has suddenly taken a turn. It's all serious now. Not that it wasn't so much before but I currently have essays/presentations/case studies coming out of every orifice and it's scaring me somewhat. I fully understood what I was letting myself in for. What I wasn't expecting was how much I'd procrastinate and then begin to panic when there's only 2 weeks to go until deadline. To be honest, at least I am panicking with 2 weeks to go rather than 2 days. For the most part though, I don't want to do it whatsoever. I am looking forward to when the more specific essays come about. Not this 'personal and professional development' or 'placebo effect' plop.

I have realised how amazing the friends I have made at Uni really are. Especially Stephend and Blondie. Stephend has this incredible ability to make me laugh consistently. Wherever we go, something ridiculous happens. For example, driving home from Uni on Thursday, all of us in the car chatting away, when she turns her windscreen wiper on. Now, for most people, that's not too taxing but, considering this woman isn't entirely sure how they work, it was hilarious. As she put the wipers on one of them flung off and flew by the windows to the car behind. That was it. Game over. I was hysterical. Her nonchalant 'My wiper has just flown by the car' was probably the reason for my lack of composure. I think it's her dead pan, say it as it is attitude that makes me laugh more so. I genuinely don't understand how I've gotten to be so lucky.

It's only brief as I now need some sleep.

Hannah xox

Tuesday, 19 November 2013

Day 128.

They're only rare moments nowadays. They seem so fleeting it's as though they don't even exist. 
*
Well. Where to start. Allow me to initially introduce a new character to my ever growing life story here. We shall call him Max for the purposes of this blog. I met him, embarrassingly, on the dating site. I know, I know, the idea of it was purely for research reasons however, this seemed like too much of a good opportunity to pass up on. This was one of the first times I wasn't feeling anxious about meeting someone. I already felt so comfortable through the conversations we'd already had through text or what have you so I wasn't going through my usual 'I'm shy, I'm scared, I'm not going to do it' panic phase. It was really lovely. A trip to a couple of Battle's pubs resulted in non stop conversation and me almost spitting my drink out from laughing a lot. I felt very at ease, very happy and totally relaxed. It was spooky though. He was so similar to me I felt like I'd known him for a lot longer. It was nice though. I do think I will be seeing him again. Hopefully anyway. Although my only criticism would have to be, as it seems so common on these sites, he lied about his height. I wasn't too surprised to be honest. Usually height is a massive issue for me. What can I say? I love my heels! Yet, for Max I think I could make an exception. Either way, I'm in no rush whatsoever for anything serious. I love being single and my life is going in a really great way so far but who knows what will happen...?

After meeting up with Max I met up with a lovely group of people all keen to know how it all went. After settling them down I was speaking to someone about how whether men should pay on a first date. They thought that it was a good sign if a man pays and it usually meant that he would be a decent sort. This is an alien concept for me. Maybe because I've never really had a man pay for me before, not often anyway. I think I am a little headstrong in my beliefs on equality to even accept that as a concept anyway, but that's just me. I pursued this conversation as it was really interesting to hear another point of view on the subject. In a perfectly friendly way, of course. The questions I tend to ask a woman when she says a man should do certain things because he's a man are: Do you believe in equal rights? Do you believe in equal pay? Do you believe in the right to have an education? Do you believe in the right to healthcare? They're simple, yet effective. I have not met one woman who has ever said no to any of those. It's a case of, you can't want all of those things yet expect a man to pay for everything just because it's tradition. Surely it's just polite? At least offering to pay is a start. It really baffles me and I constantly struggle with women who want to be treated like princesses yet get all angry about the way women are objectified within the music industry shall we say. Yet that is a whole different matter. The opinion given was that if a man pays it shows he's financially stable, won't use you for money in the future and is considerate enough to offer. I think that's a perfectly acceptable view point to have and I hope it works the same the other way around.

It was my first real feminist discussion and it was fantastic to have it with someone who thinks slightly differently from me. Don't get me wrong, I've had plenty of these chats (read through the rest of the blog if you don't believe me) but ultimately, this was my defining moment. I had the attention of the pub and it's patrons and I was so passionate about my cause I think I got my point across very well in the same way the opposing view was given. I was very happy and I still am. It was thought provoking for me and I found myself seeing the discussion from another view point.

It's been a good 24 hours to be honest bar that stupid, sodding, poxy, wanky essay that can seriously shit off. Other than, it's been amazing. I'm in a good place, surrounded by good people, studying a wonderful course and with an awesome job. 

I just looked up in to the mirror and thought I looked like Predator. This hair is wild.

Hannah xox

P.S I recommend you watch this :)

Friday, 15 November 2013

Day 124.

There is never a good time to break up with someone. If you aren't happy, move on from them. There's no use in waiting around for something that will never get any better.
*
I'm afraid I am probably about to go off on one again. I know, I know, it always seems to happen but I am upset. Well, perhaps not upset. I'm not sat here weeping in to my bed covers, wailing about the injustices in the world. That will happen later when I am watching Children In Need or some other appeal type advert. Those donkeys get me every time.

Nightclub advertising. 

Anyone able to explain to me why nightclubs use half naked women on their advertising? Anyone able to explain to me why I can't find any half naked men on nightclub advertising? Actually, I apologise, I found ONE half naked man for a gay bar flyer...the rest were women.

Here we go!

So, let's look at this overall. Sex sells. That is correct and has obviously been tried and tested for many years. However, why does it seem that it's only the women who are having to use their bodies for that sort of campaign? I Googled 'Nightclub flyers' and was greeted by tits and arses. (Seems to be all I'm ever greeted with when I search for something online...*must clear search history*) The majority of flyers with women on are wearing either: low cut tops, bikins, short shorts or fuck all. The men featured on any flyers are either in a suit, t-shirt or merely floating heads. Now, if we are wanting equality I am fancying seeing some bulge please. Get a picture of a bloke pulling some ridiculous 'cum' face to entice me in to your nightclub. Or, we could go the other way and have the women covered up. Covered up you say? You mean no tits spilling out and no flesh on show whatsoever? Imagine.

Now, a women getting her body out is by no means an issue for me. Generally speaking, I enjoy it. However, I don't like it when it's not on an even playing field. I can appreciate that maybe if your advertising implies that there will be women looking like that in your venue, you'll probably attract men and women alike, in the hope of meeting them. The problem there is that these 'beauties' on the flyers have been airbrushed and edited to within an inch of their lives. I used to work for a sex toy/lingerie type establishment. I watched in horror as the photo editor bloke actually slimmed these models down even more from the original photo. Now, these girls were not overweight in any shape or form. He made their boobs bigger, slimmed their thighs, trimmed their waists. It was the most horrific thing I had seen. These women were beautiful in the initial photos but had turned in to some Barbie waif by the end of it, yet this was how the photos must be displayed. It made my stomach turn. The worst bit of it all (and what I said at the time) was this male run and dominated business was appealing, in the same way as everyone else, to a market that is not even near the national average. For a woman in the UK, the current average clothing size is a 16, which quite honestly, isn't that big. Yet, when advertising lingerie it has to be a size 8 or lower. As I flicked through the final catalogue this company had made, I was disgusted to see how little representation there was for women my size (12) or bigger. From my understanding there was only one 'larger' model and she was about a 12. Horrific.

So despite going off topic, women are not being shown a fair representation of themselves in the public eye. We are all left to feel insignificant and undesirable if we don't look a certain size and it has filtered in to all aspects of society. If we want to go clubbing, we will be greeted by a flyer of a half naked woman either sucking on something or pretending to dance while her baps take up most of the space. What a joy. I could be lucky though and be given a flyer with a fully clothed man on. That seems the best way of doing it. Maybe I wouldn't feel so bad if the people handing out these flyers were fully ripped, Adonis type men. That, I think, would balance everything out. It would then make the men feel uncomfortable because their bodies would be being 'threatened' by the ideal whilst us ladies got a good perv. Then, once the fellas have the flyers they can objectify women and we can go on to feel uncomfortable.

I know someone who makes these flyers. He has never been able to justify the images he uses on these but has always just said 'that's the way they are'. Now, we could all change this. We could all make a stand against it. However, I doubt many will. On a night out in Eastbourne I am sadly greeted by the clone type women who all wear the same thing; same shoes, same types of clothing, same attitudes. Most, I have noticed think it's okay when a guy grabs their arse in a club or think it's acceptable to lead a man on, get a free drink out of them and then disappear amongst the crowds. BUT men should never see a free drink as an opportunity to get laid. 9 times out of 10 a girl is merely using you to save herself a couple of quid. Just saying...I've done it myself.

Ladies, please with all the love and respect in the world, have a little for yourself. It's either tits out or legs out. Not both. You are not a sex worker. Although...

Unfortunately, I find it difficult to see, in an ever changing world, the representation of women ever differing and that's sad. The way I see it is that we will forever be seen as sexual objects as opposed to sexual beings. Yet, what I will be doing is not playing up to the ideals of society. If I want to go out wearing a jumper and jeans, I will do. If I want to go out wearing my little, black dress, I will do. Either way, I am dressing for myself and not for the wandering eyes of the men on the 'prowl'.

Let's say no to the objectifying of women as well as men. Let's have intelligence as our biggest attribute not the size of tits or length of cock. 

Hannah xox


Monday, 11 November 2013

Day 120.

It's been a while since I posted because I forgot.
*
It wasn't until yesterday that I realised I hadn't blogged in just under a week. Whiff reminding me was probably a good thing. It would probably be a good plan if I started writing stuff down again.

After around 2 months, I think, of using a 'dating' site I have come to terms with exactly the kind of crap that is generally found on them. Whoever thought internet dating was a good idea, clearly hasn't used what I am currently a 'member' of. Good God. So, not only do I get the foot fetish malarky which, subsequently has calmed down recently, I am bombarded with the same old dull, lifeless intro messages anyone could ever be subjected to. Fair enough, if you're out and about, these start up lines are perfectly acceptable. However, online, not so much. 'Hi, How are you?' Wow, so not only are you trying to bore me senseless, you've also got no ambition to stand out from the crowd a little more. If you aren't even interested to fight for my attention don't bother sending that drivel. My favourite kind of people on these sites are the ones who send a lifeless message (as above), don't get a response then send the same damn thing a couple of days later. Literally word for word. Surely, if you are interested in grabbing my attention, have realised you've not done a good job, you'd then attempt something a little more interesting. 

It's plain to see the lacklustre attempts some people make. Yet, on the other hand, it's great to hear from people who actually have made what seems some sort of effort to take an interest. The way I can tell whether someone has actually bothered to read my profile, as opposed to merely looking at the photos, thinking 'that'll do', is the person who asks about my blog or whatever. Someone who has actually bothered to take a look in to the briefly explained life of Miss Hannah Louise Case. It's also painfully clear who hasn't read my profile because I explicitly say that if you want to talk to me I will not reply to messages simply asking how I am or how my weekend was. Bore off.

No one has taken my breath away so far. There have been people who have been lovely to talk to but overall I am unimpressed. Not with the guys in this area anyway. Jeez it seems to me that all the ones with decent conversation and a face I can tolerate are at least an hour away. Far too much effort for me I'm afraid.

I do love the topless photos from the guys though. It's a great way to get a certain type of person talking to you at the least. I have no time for someone who only has a 'decent' body to show off and lacks in personality. To be honest I'm not even fussed by muscly men. Big shoulders, big arms. That's all I would like in a fella. Not some 'ripped', steroid pumped, gym addict who is only interested in working out and the nutritional content of his food. Let's live a little shall we?

On the whole, internet dating is not going well. It may be partly due to my, not really making any effort to care enough, but even so. Ladies, don't bother with it. Unless you are after a weird guy asking to lick your feet, a quick fuck or utter disappointment. Guys...the same applies to you.

After seeing what is on offer, I am in even less of a rush to find someone. I will not be settling for any less than I deserve and quite frankly, I think I've had enough of bullshit men. 

Hannah xox