Monday 30 November 2009

Blue, Who? (just kidding! im not that forgetful !)

I’ve been working hard, writing. Feeling happy and not at all gutted about Blue and I finishing. I’m not sure why, but I feel indifferent about it. Maybe it’s cos I haven’t spent time thinking about it. I don't know. And it just doesn't matter.
Now, usually when these things happen I am so overwhelmed by emotion that it takes over everything and I can’t think about anything else except my misery. I am so not like this, this time.
I’m feeling good about being single. I don’t want any man-hassle. Not that Blue caused me hassle, directly. He just didnt' do anything apart from for himself. Poor bugger. I hoep he manages to change this, for his own benefit. His life will suddenly become richer when he starts giving freely and parks his obsession with himself, more often than not.
I remember during our last break-up I did a lot of staring at walls and checking my phone. Gosh.... that feels like a life time away. I have deleted his details from my phone and our emails, and facebook messages, so I do not have his number in any capacity. Even if I did, I have no inclination to call him.

I have learned some lessons while with Blue. No biggies. Just about myself. I haven’t thought about his part in our fling, cos that's his life and it's none of my business. He must behave in a manner and do what makes him happy. I don't envy where he’s at in his life, but he's doing alright. Despite us not being together, if he ever called me and he is distressed, i’d help him if I could. But he won’t. He has other friends to call.
We had our extended moment together and that precious time is now finnished.

I mentioned the break up at work today and you know something? I am absolutely indifferent. Dunno why – cos I cared and still care about Blue – but I reckon, a while back, without me being conscious of it, I had resigned myself to deserving more than he was giving me. I'm guessing that’s why I shed all those tears last Sunday when he was here. I knew it wasn’t going to work out. He is very selfish, and I am not and some times that was more apparent than others. It some times takes me a while to relaise some things. I tend tohang in there until I just can be there any longer.
So, today, life is feeling good. I’m enjoying my writing. My parents are happy, and I’m happy at my office job - there’s always eye candy floating in and out of work; two pieces today ,which myself and one gay guy I work with were ogling.
It’s just harmless fun. I can’t be arsed with anything more than just dealing with myself at the moment, but the day will come when some of that eye candy better be ready: cos I ill be!






http://www.amazon.co.uk/Hooked-Survived-Prostitution-Londons-Nightlife/dp/1845966031/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1252794549&sr=1-1

Sunday 29 November 2009

what a fool believes...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yWFgNbNNSyc

I Got Dumped.

I’m home after spending a beautiful weekend with my dad. Not only my dad, but his wife, her son, his wife, their baby boy, her other son, his girlfriend, her daughter, my uncle and my aunt – who is reassuringly mad as a hatter. May God bless her.
Yesterday was dad’s 80th birthday. They set it all up at their house, really nicely. Tables were loaded with glasses, cutlery, party poppers, starters, wines, fancy little trinkets. We ate like crazy, they drank like enthusiasts, and there was only myself and the 9 months old baby that remained sober. Great innit.
We had such a laugh. Not only the baby and I, no – all of us. We had fun, jokes all around, my uncle did an Elivs impersonation, wearing a wig and glasses with sideburns attached to their arms. He had cape and back-up music. My step-ma was hilarious. She usually is when she’s tipsy. Thankfully no one started bickering, despite my father being a devout Atheist and my aunt and uncle ( his brother) being born again Christians. They’re not anal puritans they’re simply a fun loving couple who go to church and like to get sloshed.
In fact my uncle couldn’t be more different to my father if he tried to be. No insults were flung across the table, until I asked for some salt. Oops. I insulted the chef it seemed. But thankfully in a lighthearted manner. Believe me – I’ve done this in by-gone days and it’s genuinely cast a dark cloud over proceedings. It seemed as though I spoke for the masses at that time, though.
All in all it was rowdy, fun, and we laughed non-stop. All very relaxed. I love that. It makes me realise just how much I don’t know my dad. We just don’t know each other.
But as I was leaving today, they said I must go and visit more frequently. I will.
For his presents, I bought my dad a book about the developing world, which I knew he’d appreciate. And a card with 100 quid in it so he could buy two senior citizen train tickets, so they can visit London for a weekend. They’re thrilled. I’ve No idea when they will come - that’s up to them but I love to spoil them.

As you may know, Blue and I are no more. It’s over. I’m not going to elabroate on this. I can tell you that on Friday (when we finnished over the phone), I cried, begged, questioned, cried and begged some more. I don’t deal with pride in these situations. I still wanted us to be together, so why not? I behaved in a natural manner; natural for me anyway. I felt like begging, so I did. All that stuff about doing that being a lack of self-esteem is bollocks. I am honest about my feelings at all times.
I call me begging him to re-consider, Humility. And humility is something which I admire (probably) above all things. It is something that I try to practice in any situation. I find it freeing and it’s good for my spirit, so now, I won’t beg or cry or question any more. I know I won’t, 'cos I've done what I wanted to do at the time. I won't hang onto something which isn't there and anylise anything. There's nothing to anylise.
That’s not from a stance of anger – It’s just my way. I did my utmost to clarify that there is no way back, at the time of it finishing, and then, that’s it. I tried. I’m happy that I did, but like Pontious Pilot – I have washed my hands.

Right now I don’t have major feelings about it.
I’m here. I’ve got lots to do, and so what?
The relationship was fun while it lasted. I have no hard feelings whatsoever toward Blue. He’s a good egg, he really is...and I wish him well. I'm not in a strop with him and I dont' regret anything. Why would I? I behaved decently and honestly while we were together.
But now, it’s time to begin a new chapter... and I got a feeling it’s going to be an exciting one...







http://www.amazon.co.uk/Hooked-Survived-Prostitution-Londons-Nightlife/dp/1845966031/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1252794549&sr=1-1

Wednesday 25 November 2009

My Girlfriend is Dumping Me.

My friend’s trying to dump me. She's trying to sack me as her buddy.
To sum up: She sent me an email and now it's official that I am a rubbish friend. I am good, when I’m there infront of her – but when it comes to phone calls and meet-ups, then I am unreliable. I think she’s trying to tell me that I can be very poo.

OK – before I continue, I want to say to any of you who are my real-world friends who read this – please don’t turn this into a lynching. I remember there was a case of this a while back when we all went to the cinema and I left, only to discover that you’d all been discussing my pooness at keeping arrangements.

I am officially a useless friend, it seems. That’s such a terrible label. And there’s me thinking I am a devoted and caring ally. Well, actually, I am, I will not let it be said otherwise, but I agree I am rubbish at keeping arrangements.
Perhaps the problem is, to coin an expression I used only yesterday with regards my fella, I am an an armchair supporter. An armchair buddy. Not good, eh?
I think about my friends a lot. I do. But do I pick up the phone? No. Do I suggest that we meet up? Sometimes. Do I turn up? Err, occasionally.
I don’t know what my problem is with sustaining relationships. Well, I do, I suppose.
PSYCHO ANALYSIS ALERT: The two bonds which I, and most people, become attached to for a lifetime of emotional security were severed. One, aged 5, my mother. The second aged 16, my father. Our relationship crumbled massively.

I know this is not an excuse. It’s not. It’s merely a possible explanation. Then drugs took over everything – I trusted no one, and kinda still don’t. Then once prostitution came into my life I began to live even more secretively than I had done for the preceding years.
So, you’d think that because I am aware of these things that I should therefore be able to change them, right? "‘Should’ is shit," as a friend of mine says. ‘Should’? By whose laws??

OK, the first step to changing is recognition that something needs to be altered, I agree. Why don’t I change my unreliability towards my friends then? I dunno. It’s difficult to detach oneself from ingrained, sub-conscious behaviours.I will try, though.
I don’t know if it’s too late with this particular friend, cos I let her down badly.
I never pick up my damn phone and I hurt her because I wasn't there when she needed me.
I hate speaking on the phone, I’m sorry, but as I said I will try harder, I will.
I am not perfect, but I am willing. And that’s a good start I reckon...

On a cheerier note, I, yep me, moi, went hobnobbing today. Le Groucho again, Dharlings! *clears throat*
Yes indeed, mingling once more with the literate of the United Kingdom.
God, I sound like an arse; I know I do! But you should know enough about me by now to know that I am only teasing.

Although it is true that I was in the Groucho.Yep. Marketing this time dharlings.
*clears throat*

I still sound like an arse, right? Sue me.
No! Actually, don’t sue me, please! It’s only meeeee.....!




http://www.amazon.co.uk/Hooked-Survived-Prostitution-Londons-Nightlife/dp/1845966031/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1252794549&sr=1-1

Tuesday 24 November 2009

Meaning Business & No Tengo Prisoners.

Right – I am sharpening my axe, taking no prisoners and I’m ready for combat; with myself. I’ve stepped into my armour. Decisions have been made, this is my assault rifle – and now I’m ready for whatever comes my way.
Be warned people. When I get like this, I hold nothing back. I will eliminate any clutter, any junk that is not beneficial to my life, and the excess baggage will be eradicated. I will re-instate hope for myself, in the form of taking back control of my life.
Right this moment, I’m biting into a big chunk of Gee pie and adding lashings of Selfish gravy. I’ve heard it can taste delicious in moderation. But only in moderation, mind; it has a tendency to make one choke on the said pie, otherwise.

I’ve given enough.
I will not tolerate any more loose ‘devotion,’ or armchair affection from Blue. I am de-cluttering my world, and making room for me. This will allow peace into my mind.

“If nothing changes, nothing changes.” Oh so , very, very, very true. And as Marilyn Monroe said: ‘ Something’s gotta give’.. and something has been giving: me, me, me, me, me.

And now, from today, from this moment, I have stopped. I can’t do it anymore. More to the point – I don’t want to.
I am alone on this planet. There is just probably one person who I can truly rely on and that’s not my dad or my man. I have to put myself first yet again because my investment is not being nurtured. It is being taken, with so very little interest given back, that the investors are querying their stake.

I hate the idea of being with a man who cannot support me, emotionally or any other way. I give so much. I need to be supported as no doubt he would need to be at times, and I just don’t get this from the one I’m with.

Bottom line?
I’m increasingly fed up, bored and I need to resume putting myself before Blue. That’s what I’m going to do - remind myself that this is MY life. I am most important in my life since I have no children.

So, I'm gonna take evasive action to de-clutter my world and my surroundings before I actually start drowning in this. And then, I hope this will enable me to clearly see where I am going.






http://www.amazon.co.uk/Hooked-Survived-Prostitution-Londons-Nightlife/dp/1845966031/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1252794549&sr=1-1

Monday 23 November 2009

Me, Many Days.

Does depression ever really leave you?
No. Not as a whole. In parts, yes, for moments, yes.
For periods of time one unwittingly gets off the blade that carves a groove into ones spine. And then there is still.
Free from sickness is to be free of mind.
My worries are my ill-health. My pain are my worries.
Aloneness is crippling. But what of numbness?
Is this delusion?
What of staring?
What of the chaos when the silence is not enough and screaming is unfeasible.

I find comfort in visions of treacle flowing; my guts on the floor around me.
I crave the freedom that endless sleep provides.
All I ask is to feel love, from where I don’t care.

Sunday 22 November 2009

Blue and Me.

Yesterday I had extensions put into my hair. I needed to have a change because I’ve been feeling odd. Infact, I’ve been going through what I consider an ‘episode.’ Extreme and quick changes in mood; tears, tears and more tears and feelings of acute aloneness, which manifest themselves in unbearable insecurity. I often go through this stuff. Insecurity can grip me and it can last for days making me feel physically anxious. When I go into this emotional place I feel a trifle mad. My head feels as though it is chattering negatively and I feel vulnerable because of that. These are the reasons I started taking drugs and drinking. Once an ‘addict’ stops using chemicals – you are left with the person who originally started. For me, like many, there were problems before I started self-medicating with narcotics and booze.
My feelings of the past days has taken over the joy of having a new look in the form of long, flowing hair. Hmmm...
The aloneness I experience some times is very real to me. I can often feel incredibly isolated and confused. It’s hard for me to expand on this – except to say that I become confused about the reality of situations. This paranoia makes me question everything and everyone; even strangers of the tube who happen to look at me, I wonder what is going on... Is something wrong? Is something about to happen? But I struggle most when I'm in an intimate relationship.

Today, I spent with Blue. I actually met with him yesterday and it was hard work form the beginning. We were both feeling poo and insecure. I wasn’t going to say anything to him about my fragile mood, but as usual, it was written on my face for all to see. He encouraged me to open up ( which usually is never a problem) but knowing that he’d had a crap day I wanted to pretend to be strong – ‘Faking it to make it’ can really work, you know...

Anyway , literally, (and I’m not exaggerating here ) we have talked about insecurity, particularly mine, within this relationship, since 7.30pm yesterday evening until about 20 minutes ago. I’m bloody exhausted and although we were braver in our openness than we’ve ever been, still, I don’t feel wonderful. We’re both communicators and we both took risks with our thoughts and feelings that I wouldn’t want to make habit. I guess it proves how that we both want this. And thankfully because Blue has been through the same treatment program (for drugs and alcohol) as me – we understand the benefits of real and honest communication.

The problem I have, here, is the frequency of our liaisons. It’s not enough for me. Well, sometimes, I’m OK with it – but other times I sulk. He stays over at weekends and we'll meet once or twice, maybe during the week for lunch or dinner.

OK, I’ll try to explain his situation as simply as I can.

Blue left rehab 1 year ago. He was in there for 6 months. Since leaving the treatment centre he has lived in a shared house with 5 other people that have been in rehab. I’ve been round, it’s alright, clean, modern, but it’s not his own place, and he feels a tad inadequate because he’s living there. I don’t care – although I know the set-up may not seem sexy to most people... But, it’s where he’s right now. Not forever. I mean, what am I meant to do? Let him go because he’s been on his arse and he's broke, even though he’s had the guts to clamber his way back onto life's ladder?
What is happening with Blue, right now, is what happened with me and anyone else who goes to rehab and changes their life. Everything about ones past life must change, and to do that is very bloody difficult. Of course it may seem easier if an individual does not have children and a partner – but in some respects the change process becomes harder, because the recovering person will be advised (by therapists and commonsense) to make more drastic changes in their life.

Blue is trying hard, very, very hard to create stability and a life for himself. Drugs robbed him of everything. He was unable to be productive with anything. So, now, he has got onto a course to study acting. He is putting everything into it. This course entails a lots of written work which he finds difficult to concentrate on. He’s hugely disorganised - a very common trait amongst recovering addicts. He’s uncertain of his abilities to succeed, he’s hard on himself, and he struggles some times with things that may appear basic to many, such as managing his time.

We’re talking about someone, here, who spent years caning it – only to choose to wake from his 15 year long slumber to find that good things and clarity of thought do not just drop from the sky just ‘cos he’s stopped using drugs. What you are left with is someone who struggles, especially initially. And let’s face it – the consequences of 15 years of daily drug abuse will not be eradicated by 18 months of drinking juice.
I know and I understand. So, for this reason when my Blue feels so inundated with his college work that he feels unable to stay over at mine other than at weekends, because he’s panicking his arse off 'cos he’s behind with his work - then I must try to hang in there and be patient, I reckon.

We share too much emotionally, and physically for us to just give up on this. I have been desperately insecure and I hate being like that, but what can I do? It doesn't change the fact of Blue being at this juncture in his life. Do I leave him because of it? Do I leave a guy who I have a unique connection with and whom I adore for his mind, his intelligence, his gentleness... I'm risking loads. I've given myself to him for a hope.
Is that crazy? But don't dreams, hopes, make us fully human?

It takes yonks for things to feel more organised and for the person to become more focused. And by the way - I’m not ‘healed.' I am not 'recovered' I am in a process of recovery... vital difference there. But things are getting better, for the most part.
Life, and my emotions are easier to manage most days, and even if I do sometimes go through times of high anxiety, tears and insecurity, so what, I guess, eh? What else can one ask for except progress...





http://www.amazon.co.uk/Hooked-Survived-Prostitution-Londons-Nightlife/dp/1845966031/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1252794549&sr=1-1

Friday 20 November 2009

Treat Me Mean To Keep Me Keen ??

What is a girl to do when she’s bored of herself, life, and bored of not getting any sex? Wank? Well, yep, that’s one option – but nah, it’s not necessarily an orgasm I’m after – it’s a hot and sweaty body writhing against mine. It’s the scent of sweat mixing; breathe caressing my skin, a tongue soft and eager. A mouth to kiss.
Blue is meeting me at lunch time.
I will get a morsel - of the above. But I’m feeling a little detached from him. The reason? I simply cannot bear it when a man has the ability to make me happy and he doesn’t do as I want. There. I said it. I don’t care if that sounds spoilt or whatever – it’s honest, and ladies, don’t tell me you don’t feel the same, sometimes, most of the time, all the time.
I lose interest in a guy if there is never an urgency to see me. It does not make me want him more. Treat me mean to keep me keen? You’ve got to be fucking joking. I’m neither stupid, desperate, or 12 years old.

Blue rarely suggests that we do anything. I’ve always thought it’s cos he’s broke, but he could invite me round to his place for dinner; beans on toast would do me fine. I mean, he’s at college early tomorrow morning and he lives close by to where he needs to be, so understandably he may not want to come to mine on a Friday evening then travel to get to his class, the next day. So , he should invite me to his, right? But I think he gets embarrassed. It’s a bit complex – and i’ve never said the full story about his place because:

1. I want to preserve his pride (not that he’s not alright with it.)
2. I want to preserve mine.

God that sounds awful doesn’t it, but it’s true.
OK – I’m off, to smoke a ciggie. I will tell more shortly...




http://www.amazon.co.uk/Hooked-Survived-Prostitution-Londons-Nightlife/dp/1845966031/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1252794549&sr=1-1

Thursday 19 November 2009

listen!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HStSKy2Ck9k

Bored, Bored, Bored...

I’m having a wanting-to-shut-myself-off-from-humanity- night. That’s exactly what I will do after this post. I’m gonna get into the bath that I have running, then watch ‘Bronson’. I must appear to have watched loadsa films recently. It’s not like me. It’s nice though.
I’ve just spoken to my dad about his birthday. I’m going up north again for his 80th, next week. I haven’t been up there so much, literally, since living there years ago. Anyway, he wants to ensure that I will be at their house on time for the start of the party. I will be. The only thing is, as I said to him, is the fact that a few people will be at their place and I will be the only one not drinking. Now this isn’t a problem. The problem I have is not having a place to run to if want to. Being a non-drinker when everyone around you is boozing can be a strain. I must be in the mood and then I can enjoy it to a degree. I can get off ofn the atmosphere and no one would know I’m drinking juice. But when I’m in this environment I enjoy it with the knowledge that I can get the fuck out of there whenever I want. At my dads it’s not possible.
Plus, my step-ma and daddy get on my nerves a bit, after a while, when they drink. They can become snipey and argumentative, and I just don’t want to put up with that.
So, on the phone I asked my dad to understand that I am not being rude or personal, but I may not stay over. They can get extremely funny about these things; thinking its a personal attack. They’re very sensitive. He seemed to understand though,and he said they will call me this weekend to discuss.

On a different note – Today I’ve felt as though I’ve forgotten that I’m in a relationship with Blue. I haven’t seen him for a few days and this feels odd. I know we’re together, but I kinda feel single but without the action plans.
I don’t know... I’m not going to say anything to him about this. There’s nothing to say, really. Maybe this is all to do with me being tired. I’m always bloody tired. I’m bored of it.
Anyway, Blue has suggested that on Saturday night we go out with some of his friends for a birthday shindig. I was up for it until he said that the plan is to go to a club. I don’t do clubs. Sorry. Well, not dance clubs, anyway. So I told him he should go alone. That will mean that I won’t see him this weekend. It’s a bit dull, really,isn’t it? I mean, the fact that I won’t see him at the weekend... But I have no inclination to try and stop him from going out. Why shouldn’t he go ?And why should I if i don’t want to? Whatever happens with Blue and I, will happen. I’m not even stressing about the distance we have between us. He’s busy, I’m busy, ce ca. Plenty of people are busy and see each other more than just at weekends. There is nothing I can do abotu all this. I either go with his flow or I don’t, and we split. That’s how it seems.
On Tuesday night I asked him to come over to mine and he said that he had an assignment to do. This was very telling. I’m a smidgen fed up of him calling all the shots. This isn’t about me feeling that he’s cheating on me, this is just about the fact that we are both trying to build our own lives, and it feels as though we’re doing this very individually, and we just come together here and there... I don't know how else it could be – but I wish it was a little different but as he says matter-of-factly: 'This is where I'm at, now.'But as I said, I won't say anything. How can I when he tells me that? Besides, I talk too much.
It’s not a good sign when I feel too laid back about something to fight for it. I would. I could, but I don't want to nag. And ultimately I know that he would still have the final say on when and how often we see each other.
I’ve seen that Blue will not go out of his way to come and see me when I suggest it. He even said, after Tuesday rejection:

" You think you put more into this relationship than me, don't ya Clare?"

"Yeah, I do"

"I know you do. Well, I disagree" he said.

OK. What can I do?

I see him when he suggests it and that’s been my fault, clearly.

"I will start acting differently from now on" I told him.

"That's not fair, Clare. I'm just trying to get my shit together and I don't need hassle."

Hassle, you see! Fair enough.
No doubt we will just plod on and see what happens. Hey ho... time tells all.





http://www.amazon.co.uk/Hooked-Survived-Prostitution-Londons-Nightlife/dp/1845966031/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1252794549&sr=1-1

Wednesday 18 November 2009

Relax ? Shmallax !

If I had the ability to relax then this evening would be an evening for that. But relaxing doesn’t come easy to me. Funny this, because some people I'm sure would think that I am a very relaxed person. Those people don't know me too well.

I can physically lie on the sofa and appear to stare at the TV or whatever, but I rarely stay there, care free for a whole evening. I just can’t do it. I’ve caught up with the editing that I needed to do, I’ve just had a bath and now I’m writing this blog.
I think part of this inability to completely switch off comes from living alone. You’d think it’d be the other way round, huh?
If I lived with a boy I would be able to relax, I’ve done it before. The reason being - they’d encourage me to take keep still. That, or the guy would be pottering around, himself, which would negate the necessity for me to.
Oh what a complex life we live, eh?

Oh well, the main thing is that I accept who I am. Just because I lack the ability to do nothing is no major trauma. I also lack the ability to call 'relaxing', 'Chilling out' or God for bid 'Chillaxing'. Grr...And let me tell you good people - I never, ever, ever, ever, ever, take a chill pill, OK.
But I can participate in the aforementioned crimes of the English language, when it really matters, and that’s sitting on a beach somewhere hot. Oh yes, I can do bugger all for hours, then. Hell, for days.

My basic life philosophy is about Acceptance. I try to be the best I can and in between that, I try and accept my failings and be observant of my goodness.
Whatever I do or don’t do is alright as long as it doesn’t get in the way of my day to day productivity and happiness.
All I need to do try and do is accept myself with my imperfections. ‘Perfectly imperfect’ as Blue calls it.
So, on that note Mon Cherrys, I’m going to start straightening my hair while watching 'Banged up Abroad'... this should kill a couple of hours before bed.








http://www.amazon.co.uk/Hooked-Survived-Prostitution-Londons-Nightlife/dp/1845966031/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1252794549&sr=1-1



http://www.amazon.co.uk/Hooked-Survived-Prostitution-Londons-Nightlife/dp/1845966031/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1252794549&sr=1-1

Tuesday 17 November 2009

I'm alright. Are you alright?

I’m over that Belle du Jour thing now. SING: She’s like the wind... Yep, I am. Or, I should say: I can be, definitely.
I find myself a bit odd like that, sometimes. I can feel incredibly emotional about something one day then 24 hours later, I’m alright. Maybe I’m not really alright, and actually I’m just kidding myself. But I feel alright, so therefore I’m alright, right?
Don’t search for a problem if there isn't one tapping you on the shoulder, I say. If you’re genuinely feeling alright, then you’re alright.
You people helped boost me up again with your kindness, yesterday. I appreciate that hugely. Thank you.

OK, so, Blue. I am changing, within this relationship. I am maturing and growing and long term, it could be good, this new me. But right now, it feels a bit weird.

So, how am I changing? Well, I am not blurting my feelings out the moment something gets up my nose. This is a huge. It’s not that I usually nag. I don't, 'cos it takes a lot for someone to get on my nerves. On a good day. But when something does, I always say it.
This only applies to men, by the way. And it's usually only ever men that I am in a relationship with. They get treated differently to everyone else with both good and not so good. Ladies, you’re safe!
These days though, I’ve noticed that I’d been putting Blue before myself, and patience is being practiced, which must be making me a better person, eh?
I’m usually not very patient with the men I’m in a relationship with, and previous to this I've always been the one who is ‘lesser developed’ than they are. Both emotionally and financially.

But with Blue this isn’t the case. He is earlier in his recovery than I am and I totally understand where he’s at so if I want to be with him I must be patient.
Changing is a process and it takes time. He puts himself first (not maliciously. it's habit, self preservation) and sometimes it can really piss me off, but I understand that he doesn’t yet have the confidence in himself to do anything else other than that, yet.

Now, 6 months ago – I wouldn’t have tolerated this. No way. But I understand that Blue adores me and gives me what he can in respects of time and focus so he can still keep his head above water, independently, instead of latching onto me(or another person). God the first few years of changing your life after years of running around like a headless chicken, are hell, they really are.
It’s simply not enough to just stop drinking and using drugs. That’s the easiest part. Anyone can do that, but an inherent change must occur within a person before life begins to feel easier to cope with, after stopping using chemicals. Nothing can hurry this process up. It’s all about time.
So, on Saturday, there I was, excited about getting banged and Blue bloody blew (excuse the pun) me out.

Fucking great. His problem? Friday night after work I went to meet HD. I called My Blue when I was on my way and we chatted briefly. I noticed that he was distracted. He was on the computer doing some work, so I got pissed off (but I said nothing) This is what I mean by I’m changing.
Anyway, I cut the call short daring myself to not say anything moody to him. I didn’t. He called me straight back.

”Why did you put the phone down so quickly?” He asked.

Errr, well you weren’t fucking talking to me, were ya mate?
I wanted to say. Instead, I said that I’d just gone down the stairs for the tube. Then, again, I cut the second call short, because I was still pissed off that he’d been more focused on his effing computer than speaking to me, during the first call.

That was it.
Strop city! I met HD(Honourary Dad), went home and didn’t text Blue until the next day. That’s when he canceled on me. He'd been angry that I cut the calls short, the day before.

“So why didn't you call me then?” I asked him. “You should have told me what was wrong.” Blue finds this virtually impossible to do. I wish he would tell me when he's angry, and what it's about, but he can't. Not yet. I’m sure it would be quite freeing for him to get it off his chest.Anyway ,I’m neither his shrink or his mother.

“I dunno” he said.

“Well, if he you won't help yourself out of your strop..."

”Why didn’t you invite me for dinner?” He asked.

“ Err, I did. and you said no. You had that essay to write. Look, I won’t drag you along on this ride Blue.” I told him. “ I will not coerce you into being with me, calling me, speaking with me. You do it of your own accord or don’t, and if you chose not to – then I won’t do anything about that.”

And that’s my attitude. In or out. In? Brilliant, cos I want him badly. Out? I’d be gutted, gutted. But I would never try and persuade someone to be with me. Maybe I may feel different if I had children and I was financially dependent on a man I’d been married to for 10 years. But this isn’t my situation, so I don’t know how I’d be.
Know your worth, I say! If he doesn’t want to spend time with you – let the bugger go! Don’t go all out to fight for a something if your efforts feels one sided or are taken for granted. It’s just not fair on yourself.

After this he came round on Sunday – his suggestion, and we spent the day talking, snuggling and kissing. He’d be mad to let that go, I tell ya...









http://www.amazon.co.uk/Hooked-Survived-Prostitution-Londons-Nightlife/dp/1845966031/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1252794549&sr=1-1

Monday 16 November 2009

What a BLOW !

I just started writing a post then *poof* my computer cut out. I'm too tired to re-write the whole post again, sorry. I’ve just got in after meeting Blue for some food.
I had begun telling yous what happened over the weekend – but it’s too long for me to write it again. i will do that tomorrow, instead. I didn’t see Blue on Saturday. He was in a strop. Will explain more tomorrow.

Other than that I was commenting on the news which has dominated my brain today : the legendary Belle du Jour has finally revealed herself. Fabulous it is not. Not for me anyway. Will no one care about my book and my story any longer? I know competition is meant to be a good thing and I’ve never really understood this. I asked some of you earlier on Facebook why that is? You gave me answers for which I am grateful, but I guess my feelings have again clouded the reality, and again, I am left wondering why competition is good?
To allow people to make a decision about what suites them most? Do you mean, like realism and feeling or pure titivation and glamorisation? I sound bitchy. I don’t mean to...
Let’s face it, the woman has a huge fan base already – so you may wonder how I ever thought I could compete with that. Indeed, can I? I believe I can. I always believed that I could. But what now that she has revealed herself? Does that change things?
Well I was/am going to /have reveal ed myself. I’ve never hidden who I am, what I am, what I did and how I feel and felt about it, and then this? I have written a genuine book which has soul, but my fear is that this Belle lady will now become the ‘face ‘ and no doubt the voice of hookerdom in London, and will that leave room for people to still be interested in another? A more gritty, honest, real version.
My story is different. Yep, we both charged £300 an hour, but the way her story has been told was always about commercial value and not realism. The stuff that she describes does not happen. Not in the type of hooking she talks about.
Eeeee!

What a blow. Nothing I can do amigos except keep faith in my story, because it is totally honest, and spoken from the heart. It is clear that a piece of my soul is within my book. I tell a story of surviving emotional difficulties and how I existed with those, then learned to begin to over come them.
I’m saying all this – but I am a survivor. Of course I am otherwise I’d be dead. Positivity rules in my world. Usually. So, I reckon some sleep will help me to re-instate my utter faith in myself. I’ve never doubted Hoked for a moment. It’s strange but true. I’ve never doubted it but I am doubting if the public will now only be concerned with Belle and no one will give a hoot about Hooked.

I know this is all rather self-indulgent so please forgive me if I sound that way. I am simply voicing natural concerns. But saying all this - I’m sure that tomorrow I will bounce back. Tomorrow is a fresh set of 24 hours to do with as I will. And I will use them as productively as possible.
Amen to that.








http://www.amazon.co.uk/Hooked-Survived-Prostitution-Londons-Nightlife/dp/1845966031/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1252794549&sr=1-1

Friday 13 November 2009

Bloody Oddball !

OK, before you ask – yes, the boobs are still gigantic. They’re tender and I’ve come on today. Sexy weekend ahead? Well, I’ve got two words to say to you and the second one is Humbug.
Humph...
Well, I am seeing Blue tomorrow, that’s the plan. We’ve been exchanging lustful texts all day – and now this. Bloody Poo! Well, it’s not bloody; the poo, I mean. But it is bloody. The other thing, ya know, ya know... Oh, I’ll shut up...All I meant was Poo in the ‘bugger it!' sense of the word. Are you with me on this?

No? Hey ho...

It's 10.05pm and I’ve just got home. ROCK 'n' ROLL !!!
I’ve been out for dinner with H.D. and I ate fish, (can’t remember what kind) with a yummy aubergine and tomato saucy side-dish, and that rice which is only half cooked - can’t remember the name of it. I now sound like a philistine don’t I!? Considering I used to hobnob in fancy restaurants, here I am and I don’t even remember what that crunchy rice stuff is called...
But in those days I didn't used to eat when I went to a restaurant. I used to drink, lots, usually wine,(not Chardonnay), vodka, then as though I'd actually eaten I'd finnish, with a couple of large Calvados. The drinks would be peppered with repeated visits to the loo for lines of coke. And we'd head to a club.

Moving on amigos, I had a very bizarre message on my non-Missy Gee Facebook page today; some fucking weirdo that I met about 2.5 years ago when I first broke up with Sexless. This guy (via Facebook) asked me out for dinner. I'd never met him before and after that one time, I never met him again.
He looked bloody gorgeous on his photo. So, since I’d just broken up from a relationship (which I actually thought I’d be in for the whole of my life) I decided to go ahead and meet this hottie.
When I saw him, I couldn't match the guy infront of me, with the photo I'd seen. It was blurred, but even so.
In fact I was so disorientated by the difference in his photo and the actual guy, that when we got to the restaurant I didn't eat. And it’s not cos I was sniffing charlie. I'd left all that behind ages before. The reason I didn't eat was because I didn't want to be there, but felt too embarrassed and confused about what was going on to leave immediately. I was utterly perplexed.
Anyway – I relaxed a little while he ate alone, and I had a juice before leaving. Now, as I was leaving I did something very, very, very stupid. I kissed him.
I'd just broken up with my fella and it was a sympathy kiss. I felt weirdly obliged. Ladies, some of you I know will know what I mean by that. My friends do. And it's got nothing to do with being an ex-hooker!
The kiss wasn't a snog, but one of those kinda extended kisses, ya know...then I went home. Days later I told this guy that I wouldn't see him again and that I regretted kissing him. I said this becaus ehe started saying ' How could you kiss me like that if it didn't mean anything.' WTF?? Kiss him like what??
For the love of God!
After this, he started a hate campaign against me which kinda freaked me out. then I just thought he was a fucking fruit-cake weirdo and I ignored it.
I’ve never seen him since.

Anyway – I got a message from him today under an assumed name but he had a photo there. What a fucking weirdo. Now, I’m wondering if he is actually deranged.
Why would he do this after so long? It’s not like we had sex or anything. We didn't even exchange saliva.Although at the time I think he thought we'd had some sort of passionate kiss. Why oh why did I do that? Why did I kiss someone that I knew I wouldn't see again.
Get a grip Gee! I guess I made a simple mistake. Never again.

... and no, Seth this is not about you, OK!




http://www.amazon.co.uk/Hooked-Survived-Prostitution-Londons-Nightlife/dp/1845966031/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1252794549&sr=1-1

Tuesday 10 November 2009

Last Night Was The Night.

So, who is watching ‘Kinky and Proud’ on Bravo2? Seen it before but it’s an entertaining and non-threatening depiction of ‘other’ sides to sex. Got it on in the back ground, now.
So, hands up who went to The Groucho last night dhalings?? Aye, that’d be moi! I met with the publishers after work yesterday. I got to Soho and was panicking my arse off! I was nervous before I even left work. Then, I couldn’t find the damn place! I thought I’d know where it was without thinking. Hell, I used to be someone, I cudda been a contender, instead of a ...

Anyway, after a phone call to Sexless who quickly told me to calm the hell down – (in the nicest possible way), he asked me exactly where I was, then he slowly guided me to my destination. I walked in. Told the guys at reception who I was meeting and they took me to them.
Arrggh! Shit, I was nervous. I didn’t need to be, as is usual with these cases of unfounded fear. The guys were fantastic, professional, open, warm, interesting, interested in my story, my plans for the future. Gosh, so much chatter, so much exchange of information. They are enthusiastic. Well, they did buy the book. I've also given them a chapter of the second book. I couldn't manage the three chapters as I'd first intended, instead I gave them just the opeing one.
I am now half way through the edit with their editor. She is going to send me the first half of the book tomorrow so I can start the proof read. That’s what she said anyway. In the contract it states that I get two weeks in which to say Yay or Nay to the tweaks that she has suggested. So, I’m guessing if she’s sending me the first half tomorrow that means I will get one week in which to accept or decline. It’s All interesting stuff. As you know I’ve never been through this process before so it’s all fascinating to me.

Blue met me from work today. He needed to get some clothes for a dinner/speech thing he’s attending and speaking at tomorrow evening. He was freaking out cos he finds it really difficult to make decisions about certain things. Shopping is a problem area for him. So after an unnecessary amount of umming and arring, he got him a new black suit and a white shirt. This is one of my favourite looks that a man can wear. He’s gonna look hot. Good on him! Tomorrow is a big deal. It’s quite an honour that he has been asked to participate in this.
We’re ridiculously into each other. I like him a lot. Things are good between us. Of course we’re not perfect, who is? We’re both pretty changeable with regards moods, but so far, the other has picked up the other, if the other is feeling sketchy. Get me?
So, as you may have noticed, I’ve been pretty absent from this blog recently. For that I apologies. I’m so busy at my job, then it’s either Blue time or book time, and I’ve been struggling to keep my head steady and focused. It’s not good. But I’m here now. How many times have I said this before? Please be patient with me my friends. I mean no harm... Here ya go ... I'm handing you a pretty yellow rose. Smell it... hmmm.... it's gorgeous isn't it!?





http://www.amazon.co.uk/Hooked-Survived-Prostitution-Londons-Nightlife/dp/1845966031/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1252794549&sr=1-1

Thursday 5 November 2009

Do You want to go out for Dinner with me?

My life the past days is consisting of work, eating, and editing. Sexy, eh!? I’m aware that when things seem monotonous in my life it’s because I am focusing on one thing. And right now that one thing isn't nookie... sorry to dissapoint. It's writing. Empires do not build themselves!
When I am free of mind my spirit becomes more alive, and it’s then that I can sparkle, and life feels exciting. I am not free of mind right now. I am totally pre-occipied with Hooked and UnHooked.

Earlier I was thinking about how the past 5 years have been so far removed from my past constant hotel visits, constant champagne and even more vodka, clubs, bars, come-downs. Drugs, booze,Sex, money, drugs, booze, drugs, booze, sex, money.
I was thinking about how much money has gone through my hands over the years. I wasn’t trying to put a figure on it – I was just remembering how poor my quality of life was at a time when I was raking in thousands of ££ a week. I was so deeply miserable. Unless I was at the pinnacle of my high then all was rosey. For those minutes, before the decline. Now, I earn in one week what I earned previously in one hour.
And you know something? Today I am happy, most of the time I am buoyant. I have friends that I trust. I have a nice flat – OK, I’m still rubbish at keeping things tidy but I have everything there that I need. I never want for anything. I live comfortably. I have nice things; beautiful perfumes, good quality make up, body lotions that cost the price of a gram of coke. How times change...

There.is.no.way.in.hell. that I would have ever even thought of spending money on pretty things for myself, even during my clean time. It took a while to break certain habits. When I was ‘on it’ it didn’t enter my head to even buy a 20 quid Mac foundation. It’s odd.

I bought some Clinique moisturiser the other day, and I told Blue what I just told you there... He clearly thought I was exaggerating. He'd also clearly forgotten (for a moment) what it is to be an addict.
The two things that I would buy (apart from coke and alcohol), were condoms and underwear. That was it.
I used cheap everything else. Spending cash on anything other than powder and drink, oh, and taxis, everywhere, would have felt a waste.

You are what you think.
And despite being a broke ass nowadays i’ve actually got my shit together. More correctly, I got my head together. And that makes me happier than anything that I could buy.

Anyway my loves after all that babble, I've got some gossip for you!
Today at work this Swiss lawyer asked me out for dinner this evening. My reaction? Well, I was smiling when he started talking and the moment he asked me if I wanted to go out with him, my face just dropped . First thing I said: ‘Are you winding me up?’ Not great. Are.you.winding.me.up???? What the hell??
Bit of a show of low self esteem...Oh well.

“No. I would like to take you for dinner, if you would be willing to join me.” he replied. I just stared at him then thanked him but said that I couldn’t.

“Next time I’m in London then? How about that?” I just muffled something, head down, aware that my face was burning up. He’s a good looking guy. He was polite, appeared to be gentle – speaks a few languages. I heard him speaking Russian, French, and no doubt he speaks German, even if he lives in the French part of Suise.
All this is very attractive to me. I thought he was at the office today to draw up a contract for some footballers that the company I work for represent. I found out later – he is actually trying to sell a French football team which he and the guy that was with him, own. Yep, they fucking own it!
Tres sexy, I’d say! But... But what?? Well, I’m with Blue.
Blue has less money than I do. He’s a student ain’t he? (Training to be an actor remember...?) He lives in a shared house and he can rarely afford to take me for dinner. He hasn’t traveled for years and he’s also a recovering addict. This is a first for me, being with someone else who has been in rehab. I'm aware that all this doesn’t sound good on paper... But...but what?
It‘s working beautifully for now. Of course I’d love him to be further into his recovery and have his life organsied already, but this is where he’s at right now...
But why not go for dinner with this bloke?

Well, I am faithful lassie, I am.
I am a one man woman, me. And since Blue and I have made a commitment to eachother that we are ‘exclusive,’ then I will be. And you know something else ? Even if the two of us hadn’t had a conversation about monogamy, which to be truthful we wouldn't be where we are today without having some kind of chat to decipher exactly where we stood, ‘cos I like to know what’s happening from the beginning.
You’re In or out. Simple. I don't deal in grey areas. I'm too insecure for that. If I, me, is offering myself to you. You’d better be quick about deciding what you want, cos the offer ain’t on the table for long! And honestly? You better want me exclusively, if that's how I want you - cos otherwise it's no go.

So, based on the chat Blue, I won’t be sneaking around. Besides,I simply don't want to. I keep things as simple as honest as possible.
I’m happy with Blue. We have a wonderful connection...
Yeah, he’s broke and effectively jobless and he doesn’t have his own home – but so what, really eh?
I tell you what he has got though... Soul; buckets of the stuff.
Oh, and he’s a demon in bed.

...And he’s got a very generously sized penis... Nuff said.





http://www.amazon.co.uk/Hooked-Survived-Prostitution-Londons-Nightlife/dp/1845966031/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1252794549&sr=1-1

Wednesday 4 November 2009

All that consumes me.

I’ve just stuffed my face with some Linconshire chipolata sausages, broccoli, carrots and my attempt at Yorkshire pudding. I added some some stuffing mix to the pudding mix and you know what happened? It was flat,flat, flat... Pity...hey ho. But the bit I rescued and ate was nice.

Today, and for the past few days I’ve been editing Hooked non stop, with the Publishers editor. It's weird to think that what is happening now is literally word for word what you will read.
Hooked and UnHooked have consumed my life again. I'm amazed that I've even written this blog tonight. I'm so tired, but I'm probably happier writing than anything else. Apart from loving... But writing feels more permanent. It can't be taken from me.
As well as getting the very, very final draft of Hooked together I'm busily trying to prepare the first three chapters of UnHooked, ready to show the publishers when we go for dinner on Monday.
This work load may not sound that much to you – but for me it’s a strain 'cos I’ve got my office work as well, which takes my energy. And when I have to live and breath these books to make them the best I can I feel the tension building up. To be truthful I get frustrated going over material (Hooked) that I’ve already read and re-read a thousand times.

One good thing though, all this re-reading re-enforces just how good the book is. Now, that is not arrogance. I’m not an arrogant person. In fact someone paid me one of the biggest compliments that I can imagine receiving. I lack ego apparently. Ego in the Fraudian sense. I am at ease with myself, other people and the world around me it seems.
‘You are obviously comfortable with yourself Clare’... JF, c.October 2009. Sounds good. eh? Compliments like that are by far my favourite. Such attributes as humility, kindness, and patience are what I value most in people.
hmmm... if only the guy that said that to me knew just how manic and anxious I get some times...

Anyway, as I was saying re- reading sections of Hooked (because the publishers editor must querie stuff here and there) and me thinking it’s a good book is not big headed. If I didn’t think it was bloody good I would literally have wasted a couple of years of my life living in a delusional bubble. Why would I create something and work and work and work on it and think about nothing else for 18months of the two years I've had Hooked in my life, if I wasn’t creating something that I consider worthwhile?
The sacrifices I have made and would be prepared to continue to make if necessary for me to be a respected writer are great and if I didn't have faith in my own ability - then really I'd be a bit odd and I should not even bother.

Of course not everyone who reads Hooked will enjoy it; although I can’t imagine why anyone wouldn’t enjoy it ... I’m joking! Now there, I am being arrogant!

I can’t wait for the editing to be finished – then it will go to be type-set apparently. I hope this will be done before Christmas; bring some light to a time of year which I actually find quite depressing. Christmas is all about family stuff isn't it? And that makes me feel sad. Sad, because I don't feel a part of one...
Di I mention that my step-brother's baby was christened a few weeks ago? I wasn't invited. Not any malicious reason. They just didn't bother. Guess that sums up the nature of the whole 'family' situation that I am supposed to be involved in.
I was silently hurt and a little bemused, but it's quite acceptable behaviour amongst my step-brother-step-ma, and dad. Weird how they weren't even embarrassed talking about it to me.
Anyway, not long now until Dee-Day! And quite honestly - maybe none of them will ever talk to me again after reading the book. Oops... That wouldn't be nice at all, but I am willing to take the risk. My relationship with my father is too fragile for me to consider purely, the hurt they may feel if they read the book. That's why I've asked them not to.
This is my life; my story, and I have a right to tell it if I wish in the manner I have told it.
And as I said before, the sacrifices I am willing to make in order for me to be able to write this book, are great.

Monday 2 November 2009

Your questions My answers.

Recently i’ve taken to not writing a post when I am tired. Bit of a cop-out since the deal has always been that I write a daily blog. So, this evening, to save me bleating on about tiredness and a lack of motivation for anything other than sleep and sex – I thought I would answer some of the questions that you good people put to me regularly:

1.Do you want some fun? What does this mean exactly? I love fun. Who doesn’t. By the nature of it being fun, surely it’s a good thing. If you’re asking if I want sex with you? The answer has to be no. I don’t bang people that only see me as a bit of ‘fun’.

2.Is that really you in the photo? Yes. All the photos are me,except the one in the corset; which happens to be of a lilly white woman with gigantic hands. Neither of which I am nor have.

3.Are you an escort? Read the posts, mate. Read the blurb. Read the about me. I talk about the fact that I WAS a hooker. Past tense. I ain’t no more, gottit? And if you try to hit me with ‘once a whore always a whore’ tripe, delete yourself from this page. I don’t do stupid people. Never did. Never will.

4.How old are you? Old enough.

5.Have you written a book? Are you serious?

6.Where do you live? 16, Acacia Avenue, Billaricky. Do you want the post code as well for navigation purposes? OK - EN12 6PP. 2nd house on the left, when you pass the post box.

7.What’s your mobi number? Is this how you chat women up? ‘what’s your number?’ You wont get far with that approach... First, please never use the expression ‘mobi’ that makes me want to throw up. But since you ask so cutely let me give you my mobile number, my land line, oh and my parents’ phone numbers just incase you ever wonder where I am if you are unable to get through to me. How’s that sound?

8.Can I take you out for dinner some time? Thank you so much for the kind offer. I’d love to have the guts to meet you, when you ask so sweetly. Unfortunately for me, I am too paranoid to embark on such activities. Maybe I could bring a friend? Then if you try to attack me, you’ll have to also fight off a 20 stone man mountain of muscle. Or maybe I could just bring L ..?

9.Are your boobs real? Do people ask your mother this?

10.Can I be your slave? Wow! Not every day I get asked this. How about we star with ‘ hello’ and see where that takes us...




http://www.amazon.co.uk/Hooked-Survived-Prostitution-Londons-Nightlife/dp/1845966031/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1252794549&sr=1-1