On the Up!

Do you know what I'm doing right now?

Well let me tell you mi amiga/os - I'm eating cake and drinking tea.
I'm here, at home with my lap top in my sexy but small flat, the blinds are open and I can see the Millennium Dome and the Thames glistening below.

I am a very lucky bunny.

I am healthy, I'm looking hot right now, been doing my eye make-up differently. I'm feeling slim and my new hair just can't stop getting me compliments.

I've just arrived home from a late appointment with the Psych (remember, Psch = Psychologist. She's not a 'Shrink' in the technical sense.)
I feel good tonight. I'm hopeful for the near future and I'm not shitting myself about life as a spinster.
Actually I'm not technically a spinster anyway, am I? - I've been married twice already, and as you know, both marriages at the same time. So spinster I am not, Bigamist I may be - but that's all in the past now, Y'honour.

So, life could be looking glum at the moment, but it's not feeling it. I mean, I'm broke, I'm boyfriend-less, I'm potentially homeless soon 'cos I'm broke and I'm more likely to pass a gall stone than a credit check, but I've still got a great pair of enhanced tits and a cute smile, which let me tell you will only get cuter when I spot my next fuck piece.

What can I complain about? Summer is coming (supposedly), I'm going on holiday, who with I don't know yet - but I have a spare ticket...
My dad is well, L. one of my closest friends is bronzed to perfection (she says) while sunning herself somewhere in the depths of Asia. Another friend has just managed to hold onto her temperamental boyfriend a while longer - so everyone is happy.

All good in Gee Towers, except one thing which I am not sure how to deal with - no not Irish. I've avoided that situation at the moment. I know what the potential is to find him impaled onto my body, despite not yet being ready for new dick. It's high. The potential, that is...
Nope, my biggest problem right now is one I thought I had rectified on Sunday. But it appears as though I haven't...
My hair has split ends.
I've had many compliments about my sleek new do the past couple of days, and although it looks all right the condition is clearly appalling. It's all gone to pot since I had the red colour put through it a couple of weeks back.

Now, this situation with my hair, I will use as a metaphor to describe one of personal dislikes in life:
Something giving the appearance of perfection (which lulls the observer into a false sense of security) but on closer inspection, the cracks (the split ends in this case) scream with laughter and point at you as you admire it.

Now, I'm not one of those 'Imperfections make the beauty' kinda gals. Nope. I like the full and honest picture from the beginning. I like people to be open about what they want, how they feel, how they like it.
If it's cracked, split, chipped, or held together with tissue - just give it to me straight. Tell me if you're fucked up and deeply insecure at least then I can make my decision to run to the hills.... or run to the mountains.

Of course the taste is in the eating, I know that, and I also know that this is irrelevant to my hair, because no one except me knows that my hair is wrecked, and no one except me cares - but the fact that I know is enough for me not to want to suffer it.

Let's face it if it wasn't for me experiencing acute paranoia (insecurity) when I first got with my fella, I wouldn't have started to see the Psych. No one would know that I am a walking bag of insecurity who used to sell her snatch for cash.
I carry it well - but I know.
In the same was that I know my hair is screwed - and the only way forward is to have a large amount of it lobbed off. It's dead at the ends. I can work with it no longer.

Get rid of it. Start again. Take no (split-end) prisoners.

It's no biggie and no one will get hurt cos my hair has turned into straw - but when it comes to people - Well, pretending to be something I'm not could be harmful, or hurtful, no?
I used to play these games (or try to) a lot in my past - and altho fun at times it was friggin draining, hard-work.

Tonight when talking to Psych, I realised just how fortunate I am with everything I have and have not, today. My life has changed beyond recognition (emotionally.) So what, I don't have a boyfriend? Who cares? So what if I don't have money? At least I don't dont get fucked by strangers for the little I have.
So what if I'm unsure of myself at times? At least I no longer have psychosis and I'm not trapped in a relationship with cocaine.

But let me tell you what I do have... I got love in my heart maaan. I got a Daddy who loves me and whom I adore. I've got friends (altho I'm rubbish at keeping contact. Err, sorry girls.)
I've got a belly full of cake; Oh and I got my rabbit. Let's not forget my faithful friend who's in desperate need of some attention... And If I want a piece of real dick I'll just open my phone book and dial out for some.

Right now,this moment, I love that I'm sober. I love making choices I'm less likely to regret in the morning than if I was high and just 'acting' without thinking.

So, just for an example, nothing more than an example ... Say, if I wanted to sit on Irish's cock and grind my clit onto his pubic hair, maybe, tomorrow evening... then I could, right? I know where to find him.

Don't forget - 'The woman chooses the man that would choose her'..... so please fellas, form an orderly queue.













Check out my Facebook page if you fancy a more personal chat. I'm under the name Missy Gee.