Facebook, friends, and fucking habits
- Friend: Are you completely into that as well? Like the whole domination thing? I can't wait to be able to have these conversations in the same room as each other with a bottle of wine.
- Me: I KNOW RIGHT. Fb messenger just doesn't cut it when it comes to discussing your kinks. ;)
- Friend: Or yours, miss 'i found a guy to fuck on the internet' ;)
- Me: I'm living the dream of the modern era, what can I say?!
I was searching through the Carice van Houten tags, because yesterday I saw her perform live with her band (for free!) and saw her sit through the most awkwardly German interview with effortless grace and patience, and I also asked her the first question in the Q&A session which wasn’t a particularly inspiring question, but given that there was a really awkward silence and lack of hands after they opened the floor for questions, I did what I find almost impossible not to do, and that’s I stopped the awkwardness and asked the first thing that popped into my head rather than put the poor woman through more agonising minutes of thinking that nobody wanted to ask her anything. But yes, she’s a really beautiful, stylish woman, obviously an amazing actress, but also a pretty damn good singer as well. I’d heard one of her songs before, but she played a selection, and I’m definitely going to buy the album. Also, how beautiful is the background of this picture? There’s so much detail going on in the sets of Game of Thrones that you just don’t even notice.
So that was nice and intense.
Will anything more come of it? Who knows.
Do I really mind either way? Not particularly!
It’s the most wonderful time of the year
Omg. Am awkwardly exchanging dirty talk with a guy who is slowly becoming a very real booty-call option. Am sat literally red faced with embarrassment. I’m out of my depth. Send back-up. Pls help.
The trials of tinder
So it seems like I only use my personal tumblr when I have things to whinge about/things that need getting off my chest but are a little too personal for twitter.
You may recall, that last summer, feeling lonely, bored, and tipsy (the most dangerous of combinations) I decided to install the Tinder App.
Why not, I thought? I could be one of those people who have casual sex with near-strangers. I could definitely be that person.
Turns out, I can’t, or at least, I can’t when the first contact one makes is via creepy over-personal instant messaging. So I left the app alone, especially considering that often the geographic settings are way out. No point awkwardly flirting with London boys when I’m in Halifax, or UK boys when I’m in Germany.
Anyway, today I was talking to my friend in my lecture, and she told me that her flatmate had been using tinder and that my picture had come up on there. Tinder also tells you when you and the people you’re seeing have mutual friends, and so he asked her if she did indeed know me. After much explaining to my still quite new group of friends that tinder is not something I have used seriously, and that I’d forgotten that I would actually still come up on other people’s apps even when I don’t use it often, we had a quick facebook stalk, and C decided that she would take it upon herself to match-make.
However that does mean that I’ve now been scrolling through the app for some time waiting for this guy to come up. In that time I’ve made a few matches, and some have begun messaging me. I can’t help but feel I’ve once again opened up the pandora’s box that is the world of tinder. Will I ever use this app in a serious manner? Only time will tell.
R: “Well, good for you Lucy, but I don’t think I’d ever use tinder.”
M: “Well, clearly you’re not quite at the same level of singleness as I am.”
"You’re so critical today, god"
Yes, I am critical today. I’ve had a day filled with things to be critical about. What’s more, and this may be hard to take in for an eternal optimist such as yourself, but I like being critical. I do, I love it. It’s my thing. I’ve been critical, and bitchy, and realistic, and sarcastic, and ironic for as long as I can remember. It doesn’t make me a bad person. It doesn’t even make me a depressing or sad person. It makes me me. Critical, bitchy, happy me. So you can either deal with me, and learn to understand that just because I criticise things does not mean that I wish to destroy them, or to undermine them, but in effect I criticise because I want to improve things, or, alternatively, you can fuck off.