Tag Archives: partying


Last Friday I was told by BG the man who had repeatedly claimed to love me that he now has a new girlfriend, but he still likes me. He was headfucking me all evening. I was upset and coped with it by diving headfirst into a bottle of vodka. I emerged again later that evening, crying in the corner of a nightclub. K was hooking up with South African guy and I don’t know what possessed her but she introduced me to Nigerian who she didn’t know. Almost all my experiences with Nigerians has been negative.

I told him that I was not interested in meeting someone new and to please leave me alone. He didn’t and I walked away from him. K went looking and she found me in tears (as usual). He followed her and she left him with him. I was crying and this fucker was telling me how much he loved me and that he would kill himself if I didn’t go out with him. After 10 minutes of asking him to leave me alone, I snapped and started screaming at him to get the fuck away from me.

He kept insisting that he loved me so I grabbed Evans and told me that we were leaving right then. We went walkabout to the next bar. The Nigerian followed me proclaiming his love. I was screaming at him to get away from me, that I wasn’t interested and that I would call my tough guys if he didn’t leave me alone. Evans and I had one drink in that bar and then left. We were supposed to meet K and South African guy but they had already left.

The Nigerian was still waiting for me outside the war. It really freaked me out. I started to get very scared. This guy had been following me for over an hour. Nothing I could say would dissuade him that I was NOT interested. When he repeated that he would kill himself, I heard “I’ll kill you” because what’s a pronoun or two in an act of violence. Was also scared that he would demonstrate his “love” by raping me. This was a genuine fear.

I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t dare go home yet. I know it’s not good to generalise for any nationality but I’ve had some awful experiences, like this one, with Nigerian men. It’s always the men – the women are lovely. It’s not I problem I’ve had with Kenyans, Sierra Leonians, Congolese, Ghanians, Algerians etc. It’s just Nigerians and I’m through giving them the benefit of the doubt.

Part of the problem is their treatment of women and their utter lack of respect for women’s choices. This guy like so many before did not take no for an answer. I was stalked for months by a Nigerian neighbour. I’ve had to physically push men off me on more than one occasion. As shitty as Hell is, and it is, I’ve never felt in danger here before last Friday. That fucker reintroduced fear into my like and I’m so angry at him for that.


Psychosomatic illness or not?

The power of the mind is tremendous. I’m faking an illness, not as one might think to skip off work but, to avoid going to a party. What sort of a weird party pooper am I? You may well ask gentle reader. But I ain’t got the cash. What a pathetic excuse and one that people would laugh at. But it’s true – am seriously lack in cash.

Besides that, the hostess that been acting as a total bitch to me lately and although I understand her angst I don’t see why I and not her boyfriend you take the heat. I like M but many chill pills may be required. I really don’t want to spend my weekend picking her off the floor in a drunken stupor. Not so much fun for me.

So I’m faking illness. Having said that, I think I am actually coming down with something. I don’t know if its the flu that Colleague No. 1 actually has or whether it is the power of the mind and I’ve invented a psychosomatic illness. It’s interesting regardless, to me anyway.

What else is up? Not much really. Got a visitor and am going to spend the weekend drinking at the Diner and sleeping. St Patrick’s is next week and I’ll play the role of an Irish girl and try and find some green clothes!

Got an awful headache

Nasty week but it’s almost over

It is truly amazing how bitchy people can be. If you are going to stab me, at least have the fucking courtesy to do it to my face and not aim squarely for my back. I’d much rather Slutty be honest and tell me that she wants Doc instead of whispering in his ear. She had the temerity to presume to know my feelings and then communicate them to him

– Oy. You know DS is in love with you? Right. She’s having a tough time transitioning from love to friendship.

Well you know what bitch, bring it. Apart from your annoying tendency to always choose one night stands over friendship and your concerted effort to have sex with every boy/man in the country, you are a fucking ugly person – body and soul.

Luckily Doc’s a good guy and doesn’t say this outright to you Slutty. He just gives you enough rope to hang yourself and you do every single time because you cannot keep your hands of somebody else’s man. You fancy yourself a manipulator but you betray yourself with your eyes and insincere enthusiasm.

Life is better today than it was yesterday. My dear Cokehead is getting better. It’s almost the weekend and everyone is gone away except Visitor, Sister, Doc and presumably Doc’s spanking new girlfriend (presumably without the spanking cos of the virgin thing). Yes indeed Doc has a girlfriend who is not me. So for some vengeance and comfort I might make out with Evans on the dance floor of Garden Bar tonight. Last weekend he may have been holding her hand but his eyes were on me.

He confessed, as did I, that he fancies me and would want a relationship with me if we were elsewhere but because we are in Hell, I’m too important as a friend to risk losing over a lovers tiff. He was completely sincere. And I agree. He is right. But I don’t like that he’s dating another girl. She is so boring and she takes time away from us. She takes him away from me. And when I have a few drinks taken, I sure do feel abandoned.

It’s been a really harsh week – Doc’s girlf, Cokehead’s hospitalisation, entertaining Visitor until late each evening and having to work the next day. Tonight is drowning sorrows night and I hope they haven’t learned to swim.

Pissy day

I’m in a totally pissed off mood today and for once it has nothing to do with boys. I have a friend visiting, which is grand. Haven’t seen her in years but it means late nights and full work days. Ergo I’m tired and the coffee isn’t doing its job. I long for ground coffee because Nescafe is shite.  This is not why I am pissy but the lead up. I’m pissy because my soi-disant friends are going to the beach and didn’t even fucking invite me.

Obviously I don’t need an engraved invitation but I feel left out and crappy because I have made them feel welcome in Hell and now they bugger off without me. Most of them, I have introduced to their Hell companions. The explanation, that only three were going and another invited herself and all the group except Evans and I, does not wash.

Interesting how Slutty can invite everyone but conveniently forget me. She’s still so jealous that she didn’t get a crack at Doc. You can kiss my fat ass, you hoor. (I use slut, not because she shags around but because she would stab a friend to get a man/laid. Although I am a sex positive feminist and should probably find another less engendered term.)

My cokehead friend is still not better. She’s gone to the hospital again. It’s worrying but there’s nothing I can do. Besides it was her druggie behaviour that got me tired in the first place – staying up all night making sure she didn’t die and taking her to the hospital. Haven’t slept properly in almost a week and it won’t be tonight that that will change.

Naturally I have taken up smoking again.

Kissing no one

I kissed Hugh Laurie last night – first the man from House (dead sexy) and then the man from Blackadder (quite a different kettle of fish). Oh and did I mention that I was dreaming. Cos I was and it was a great dream! I got to kiss House and of course I was more than a match for his wittiness. I really admire wits and a sense of humour in a man.

Went to RH last night even though I’m working today so fairly tired now. Got great info on Doc from a friend of Pru’s and Palmy saw him in the city yesterday.

I don’t think it’s him. I doubt he’ll call. But it’s ok. That evening pulled me from the pit of despair and I think that’s as much as I can expect. I can live with it, if I couldn’t only grab a couple of hours kip. Truly knackered.

Met a boy

Met the man I want to marry. I never say that. I never think that. This house of cards will come crashing down around my ears soon because nobody wins the lottery. He’s younger than me by three years. He’s my intelligent, funny, so-pretty-it-hurts, considerate, kind doctor. Won’t my mother be happy at the idea of my seeing a doctor. But I’m getting ahead of myself. We are not dating. We talked.

And what a wonderful conversation it was too. He’s witty and intelligent and smart and oh my God he’s perfect. Not perfect perfect but perfect for me perfect. I heart him. I want to marry him. K proposed on my behalf and he yes’ed. I just hope he calls.

The rational part of me says that there is no way that a person wins the lottery like that. He is everything I want in a man and so pretty. He couldn’t possibly like me back – no one gets that lucky. So when this comes crashing down and I’m locked in my room crying my heart out, I remember to reread this:

At this moment I am happy. Doc spent 4.5 hours talking to me at the party. The entire evening, he talked to me. I am happy. Remember this moment!

I write this for myself to remember that I was happy, when this inevitably crashes into oblivion. I can’t believe that things would work out so wonderfully for me – I got through the second round of an extremely competitive recruitment and a pretty intelligent boy talked to me all evening. Can I be that lucky?

I should have taken the lift home with him but I was so happy that I wanted to party longer. He made me happy. Of course I was a miserable git as soon as he left (that I had not taken into consideration).

Happy now. He texted me last night.

Hi DS, hope you had a nice weekend. I was working today and having a sore throat. Have a nice week. Take care.

Not the most passionate text in the world but he didn’t have to send it and he did. That’s what counts. My thoughts are literally full of him. Must try and do some work.

Oh yeah and BG got on his knees in front of me and addressed my tits. He asked me to come and find him when there was a chair next to him. Obviously he’s having problems with the girlf. Not interested

Evans is acting weird. When I was talking to doc, he would come check on me every fragging 20 minutes and then go bitch that I was still talking to the boy, to my best friends. He asked me to visit a temple with him and I refused because of an utter lack of interest. Then he calls Bu to ask her why I don’t want to spend any time with him. It’s not that I don’t but I’ve no interest in doing tourism in a city where I have lived for the past two years, a city I dislike normally. He can’t be jealous, he’s shagging blondie. Get over it, Evans!

I want doc. I want him now and forever and I have never said that before, well since being an adult in any case!

Saturday evening

After meeting M+L I headed home to shower and change and then went to the most boring party ever. Spent a few hours there and then headed to Riverhouse where BG was. He was fucking with mixed signals all night. Apparently “night games” mean “afterparty”. I say bollocks to that.

Met Marcus again and had much fun with him – dancing, bitching etc

John was working instead there so I got to tease him with texts. He said he’ll call me this week and I replied that I would call him if he didn’t call me. Just need to get over my freaking period. I hate to bleed. I prefer to fuck.

After that the power went out and John left and BG invited me back to his only to retract it a few minutes later. Boyz sux