craft time: adult style

So before you go getting all upset thinking you feature in one of our blog posts (attention: you don't), you may want to count yourself lucky.

At least we channel our creative frustration with words not art and craft....

heh heh heh... check this out
Man's genitals glued by three scorned lovers


-thanks to G for the link xx

Passing the Buck

I have written previously about what not to do in a relationship break up. I preached maturity, dignity and forward thinking. I counselled against obsessiveness, abuse and destructive behaviour.

Well here’s a not-unexpected confession. I follow none of my own advice. So today I think I take a leaf from the Catholic method and give you a little honesty in the hope it absolves me of my past indiscretions and stops me from doing the same next time.

The particular story I wish to tell does not spur so much from a break up, but rather a cessation of potential. Let us cast our minds back to 2005 as I tell you this tale...

This particular man and I had been progressing along at a consistent pace through the requisite stages of getting to know and increasing intimacy. I had deliberately sought to take things quite slowly, however after three months we were at that precipice where things needed definition, and procedures needed to be established.


This need existed as an obscenely large elephant in the room, neither of us willing to venture there. I was quite prepared to continue ignoring Dumbo and enjoy the good times, however this man changed entirely, suddenly growing distant, cold and displaying complete personality changes from an incredibly charming, loving person to a brittle, unapproachable individual.

Needless to say, the ‘relationship’ ended when he decided he ‘wasn’t looking for anything serious’ (yet assumed I was ?!?!) and I was understandably confused and upset.

However, he stated as calling it off, “A, you are seriously the most amazing girl I have ever met”, and hence I decided to maintain the moral high ground and act only with decorum.

Hence my vents, rants and raves were burdened upon my beautiful friends, who were more than happy to listen, agree and even make voodoo dolls.


However it seems they could take only so much. After 7 days of spiteful speak, imbued with the spirit of gin, two of my absolutely darling friends decided it was time to exact revenge. Hidden from sight in one of the sin-booths of Q Bar, my two friends unleashed a barrage of insults to the voicemail of said gentleman.

My favourite moment in their retelling of events: the moment they realised they had failed to put their phone on private….

“Oh shit, this isn’t on private is it? Crap, ok. Let’s hang up, put it on private and call back. Then he won’t know who it is. Heh heh heh.”

You have to love drunken logic…. (*sidenote, what is even more concerning is that the very same thing happened to me not so long ago in entirely different circumstances. We are supposed to learn from mistakes? Well... putting your phone on private, yes.*)

Another strangely therapeutic activity when processing a break up for me seems to be substituting the name of my ex into The Rapture’s song No Sex For Ben. For all those who do not know, here it is:

I defy anyone not to feel empowered crumping and shouting away at 2am to this track, damning their ex to a sexless existence…. Trash people? Not me.


These strange break-up behaviours made me realise how much we all rely on our friends. Not only in times of relationship peril, but at all stages. Whether as wing (wo)man, sounding board, confidante, abuser or fellow egg-thrower, our friends are integral within our relationship, performing the tasks we are unable to ourselves.

Or unwilling….

Case in point: myself.

You may or may not have noticed that I am a fan of a certain musician. I have been to a few of his gigs and am personally too afraid to speak to him, lest I lose my words and look like, well, a dumb blonde.

So on two separate occasions, my fantastic buddies took the buck for me and initiated conversation, whilst I stood there, too sober to partake. My friends continued the discussion, initiated some photo-taking and even handed over my number.

That is truly what friends are for…. Humiliating themselves for others.

I promise I am quite willing to do the same for them… as soon as I get the chance (or they let me).

I'm not obsessed, just impolite

So despite the knowledge that the ex was and IS in fact a retard, and that at every stage in the relationship, you were in fact the ‘Hot One, the break up and consequential aftermath still hurts like hell.

So how do we obviate the hurt? Do we obviate it? Or do we let ourselves have a big fat wallow accompanied by chocolate, wine, gin and scenes not unlike Bridget Jones’ breakdown?

Honestly, I have no idea. But my rule of thumb from past understandings is that it takes around half the duration of the relationship to move on. Until that time, you’re pretty much stuffed. Take the pain, the anger, the drunken ramblings and roll with it. But here are some tried and tested words of wisdom (or… learning from my mistakes) as to what NOT to do:

1. Eschew technology-
Whilst Facebook et al are fabulous sources for information gathering, once you have established his position on the retard scale by virtue of him dumping your ass you don’t need a reminder of this.

The constant stalking of his page and lingering on chat hoping for him to appear is not helping you. Because what you are more than likely to see is him being tagged in photos with girls uglier than you, befriending slutty whores and having them incessantly comment on his wall.

Will this make you feel better? Certainly not. So JUST DON’T DO IT. Reduce the feeds you get about him…. The old adage of out of sight out of mind is most definitely true.

2. You are STILL the Hot One-
No matter how much of a douche he was in breaking it off, the fact remains that you are the hot one. So whilst he may need to run out and hook up with random skanky bitches as a means of affirming his own self worth, lowering your standards and slipping your tongue into the mouth of a lesser representative of the opposite gender does not help.

Don’t have an ugly rebound romance, and please, for the love of God don’t post it on facebook. You will regret it. I promise. I’ve been there.

Go for a run, have some gin, smoke a joint. Whatever makes you smile. Just don’t put it on the web… you are the hot one- don’t post photos which could indicate otherwise.


3. Whilst Facebook stalking is legal, physical intelligence gathering is more of an ethical and legal misnomer.

But lets face it, we do it.

It may be the frequenting of the favourite café where you used to share a Sunday morning brunch, going to a gig you perhaps wouldn’t in the hope of a run in, or altering your route to work ever so slightly to drive past his house.
Whilst we all do it, I’m fairly certain we don’t own up to it. Why? Coz we think it would make us sound COMPLETELY FUCKING CRAZY.

And it is. It feels comforting to see him, and know he is not with a new girl, or is wearing the same ugly jeans, but what purpose does this achieve? We have not broken our emotional dependence upon him, and are reinforcing the psychological bond which must be severed following the severance of relationship ties.

4. Being dumped is not a defence to criminality-

Revenge is a dish best served cold. So, throwing rocks at his windows/keying his car/ripping the pockets out of his pants/any other form of spiteful act really just reinforces his (deranged) motivations for ending it in the first place.

So this pretty much brings me to the crux of my rant:
The best way to enact revenge is to live the best life you can for yourself. Think hot, look hot, be happy. Surround yourself by people who love you, and feel free to fish for compliments to bank to neutralise his shit.

Because one day, be it ten days or ten years later, you will bump into him. And you will look better than him. And be better than him. It’s a question of how much better. Make him rue the day he ever ended it.


And before this comes off as too preachy, here is some news about me:
I have been obsessing over a relationship which whilst short, was filled with a ridiculous degree of passion, intensity, meaning, depth, friendship, compatibility and overall- potential.

His decision to end it on the grounds of ‘not seeking something too serious’ left me in a quandary. Did he just want to play the field? Well evidently not, as his time seems to be spent on facebook or with his guy friends, NOT picking up other women.

So then why? Why was I not good enough?

This hurt more than discovering infidelity, and took a long time to get over. But as of today I am 100% ok, and I know it. I do not fantasise about running into him, or him declaring his mistake and his newly realised unabashed love for me.

I hid his facebook news, I avoid his house, and I live my life for me.

(this only started today…. So learn from my mistakes!!!!)

Love, Peace and Gin to all…