Mia has not written for nearly a year, not due to the lack of drama in her life, on contrary - the last year has possible been the eventful of them all and so on the eve of her first AA meeting, she has decided to get back out there and clear the air.
Highlights (hardly the correct term) of the last year involve
- Her Russian boyfriend who once rescued her from a hit and run accident, turning crazy and cornering her in their bathroom for 45 minutes with a kitchen knife.
- Being offered 1000e for one night of passion with a complete stranger.
- The return of The Womanizer
- Confront herself with the reality that her anemia will always take control of her life
- Burnt herself out by lighting the candle at both ends and nearly had a nervous breakdown.
The next few posts are not for the faint hearted so if you think you can stomach it, pick up your mug of brew and get comfy because its going to be a rocky ride.
DISCLAIMER: PLEASE READ
All Characters In This Said Piece Are Factual And Although You Might Not Be Named (And Righty So Shamed) You Are A Force To Be Reckoned In My Story.
Having Said That, Unless You Still Receive 3am Drunken Love Poems Via Electronic Mediums, You Were Unfortunately Just A Spur Of the Moment Obessession. Get.Over.It. Love. Bitterness And Angry Aint Pretty. Be Happy You Are Being Acknowledged.
No Men Were Intentially Or (That) Severly Injuried In The Events Of This Blog. Most Of You Asked For It And Enjoyed The Best Part Of The Experience.
As A Wise Man Once Said, What's Life Without Pain?
Having Said That, Unless You Still Receive 3am Drunken Love Poems Via Electronic Mediums, You Were Unfortunately Just A Spur Of the Moment Obessession. Get.Over.It. Love. Bitterness And Angry Aint Pretty. Be Happy You Are Being Acknowledged.
No Men Were Intentially Or (That) Severly Injuried In The Events Of This Blog. Most Of You Asked For It And Enjoyed The Best Part Of The Experience.
As A Wise Man Once Said, What's Life Without Pain?
Showing posts with label Being Alone In Barcelona. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Being Alone In Barcelona. Show all posts
Monday, 8 November 2010
Dial 112 for Help
A To Z Of Social Whoring
alcohol,
Being Alone In Barcelona,
Love Affairs,
Running Away,
Suicide Attempts,
The Russian,
The Womanizer
Saturday, 5 December 2009
Tell Jesus, The Bitch is Back
Mia has been away, where you ask? No where in particular, she's just been busy with life in general and had to put the Social Whoring on hold for a minute. However, as usual, there is always drama in her life and after a whirlwind week, she decided to kick start her creative juices and upload herself back into the world.
The last time Mia wrote, she was happily loved up with The Russian, having just celebrated her birthday and dealing with her psychotic headcase housemate and being made homeless. Mia had been offered a job working for her friend Troy helping him run his Escort Agency. Days, Months ran away with her. After what seemed a lifetime of dragging suitcases, shoes and photo's of her past life around Barcelona, she called a guy who worked in a hostel she had stayed at months before. The Polish Guy had mentioned he was looking for a housemate and had previously asked Mia if she was interested. At the time she wasn't but now she desperately needed a place.
Late on a Sunday night, she went to see the apartment in the trendy part of Barcelona, as he showed her around, she imagined herself in the flat. She loved the size of the bedroom she would be living in, the living room had a light feel to it and the bathroom had enough cupboard space to fill with half of Lush's back catalogue. She asked The Polish Guy where his bedroom was and was taken back when he said it was a one bedroom flat. She was slightly confused, he told her he was away from home a lot for work and needed someone to look after the place and while he was at home, he slept on the sofa after a long day's hard work.
Desperate for a place to live, she agreed to move in, she found him slightly creepy and promised herself that she would use her next pay check to find another more suitable place. On the first night she moved in, he kept her up late, asking her questions about her life, when he asked her if she had a boyfriend, she noticed that his face dropped when she replied yes. He told her not to invite him over and that he would be jealous if she did. She agreed, only to keep the peace.
The next day, she waited for The Russian to come back from work, he had gotten into a drunken brawl at the weekend and had lost his phone. She was worried and needed to make sure he was okay. She didn't really know where they were heading or what they even meant to each other, he liked to keep her waiting and guessing and it kept her on her toes. That night she told her about her new living arrangements and how uncomfortable it made her. She stayed the night and enjoyed the sweet embrace of his arms.
In the morning she woke up to find 82 missed calls on her phone, The Polish Guy had been calling her, leaving her messages and texting asking why she hadn't come home. The last call was at 6.30am and Mia grew more disturbed and shaken by his actions. His messages ranged from anger to upset to concerned. He told her he wouldn't sleep until she came home and that he was worried about her. She felt sick to her stomach listening to his voice, this was a man whom she had only spent an hour with before. She told the Russian and showed him the messages, he laughed it off and told her not to worry about it.
She stayed another night, not thinking about what The Polish Guy might be thinking, the next day, she woke up to texts of abuse and mesages threatening to throw her belongings in the street. She called TPG asking him why he was behaving in the way he was, he told her that he thought they were meant to be together and that they were going to live together and be happy. Feeling ill and angry at the thought of what he was implying, Mia told him she was moving out. She would go back to the flat while he was at work and move all her stuff out.
Within the hour, he had called her back and told her he was packing her stuff. The Russian's house was on the other side of town and she had no money for the Metro or a cab. She ran in her flip flops as fast as she could. She let herself into the flat, ready to confront The Polish Guy, only to find him sitting on the sofa...masturbating with her underwear on the coffee table.
She said nothing, packed and left...
The last time Mia wrote, she was happily loved up with The Russian, having just celebrated her birthday and dealing with her psychotic headcase housemate and being made homeless. Mia had been offered a job working for her friend Troy helping him run his Escort Agency. Days, Months ran away with her. After what seemed a lifetime of dragging suitcases, shoes and photo's of her past life around Barcelona, she called a guy who worked in a hostel she had stayed at months before. The Polish Guy had mentioned he was looking for a housemate and had previously asked Mia if she was interested. At the time she wasn't but now she desperately needed a place.
Late on a Sunday night, she went to see the apartment in the trendy part of Barcelona, as he showed her around, she imagined herself in the flat. She loved the size of the bedroom she would be living in, the living room had a light feel to it and the bathroom had enough cupboard space to fill with half of Lush's back catalogue. She asked The Polish Guy where his bedroom was and was taken back when he said it was a one bedroom flat. She was slightly confused, he told her he was away from home a lot for work and needed someone to look after the place and while he was at home, he slept on the sofa after a long day's hard work.
Desperate for a place to live, she agreed to move in, she found him slightly creepy and promised herself that she would use her next pay check to find another more suitable place. On the first night she moved in, he kept her up late, asking her questions about her life, when he asked her if she had a boyfriend, she noticed that his face dropped when she replied yes. He told her not to invite him over and that he would be jealous if she did. She agreed, only to keep the peace.
The next day, she waited for The Russian to come back from work, he had gotten into a drunken brawl at the weekend and had lost his phone. She was worried and needed to make sure he was okay. She didn't really know where they were heading or what they even meant to each other, he liked to keep her waiting and guessing and it kept her on her toes. That night she told her about her new living arrangements and how uncomfortable it made her. She stayed the night and enjoyed the sweet embrace of his arms.
In the morning she woke up to find 82 missed calls on her phone, The Polish Guy had been calling her, leaving her messages and texting asking why she hadn't come home. The last call was at 6.30am and Mia grew more disturbed and shaken by his actions. His messages ranged from anger to upset to concerned. He told her he wouldn't sleep until she came home and that he was worried about her. She felt sick to her stomach listening to his voice, this was a man whom she had only spent an hour with before. She told the Russian and showed him the messages, he laughed it off and told her not to worry about it.
She stayed another night, not thinking about what The Polish Guy might be thinking, the next day, she woke up to texts of abuse and mesages threatening to throw her belongings in the street. She called TPG asking him why he was behaving in the way he was, he told her that he thought they were meant to be together and that they were going to live together and be happy. Feeling ill and angry at the thought of what he was implying, Mia told him she was moving out. She would go back to the flat while he was at work and move all her stuff out.
Within the hour, he had called her back and told her he was packing her stuff. The Russian's house was on the other side of town and she had no money for the Metro or a cab. She ran in her flip flops as fast as she could. She let herself into the flat, ready to confront The Polish Guy, only to find him sitting on the sofa...masturbating with her underwear on the coffee table.
She said nothing, packed and left...
A To Z Of Social Whoring
Barcelona,
Being Alone In Barcelona,
Harassment,
Homelessness,
Men That Doesnt Understand The Meaning Of Fuck Off,
Perverted Men,
The Polish Guy,
The Russian
Monday, 7 September 2009
Drama is my middle name pt 2
Mia had been enjoying life apart from the stalker like housemate, she had decided to detach herself from the situation. Weekdays were spent working two jobs and weekends were spent with The Russian. The small moments of quietness they shared was exactly what Mia had been longing for.
One weekend when Mia knew MDG was going to Costa Brava, she took The Russian home. For two days they sat in their own love nest until MDG came home early and ruined the party. Instead of letting them be, she said an argument with Mia that caused her to get upset. You see, Mia had bought 100e worth of food which she cooked for both of them while she was under the impression that MDG would pay for half since she cant cook. Then when it came to going shopping again, MDG went by herself and only bought food for 2 days and not for Mia as well. The day before she went to Costa Brava, the two girls went shopping together and bought food which was paid by MDG. Mia thought it was fair that this happened since the bill only came to 20e. While she was away, Mia cooked dinner for herself and The Russian only using half of the ingredients that had bought. Back on arrival, MDG, more than likely being pissed off at seeing someone else happy hit the roof.
Finally after handing her 50e Mia and The Russian went to bed to avoid anymore arguments, it was another 4 days before the girls say each other and when they did, MDG was in the living room crying. Mia wanted to comfort her but as she did, MDG threw a plate on the floor and Mia realised it wasnt worth the hassel.
Later that weekend, after a long night at work, Mia came home at 2am to have a shower and get ready to meet The Russian. When she walked thru the door, she saw a naked MDG on the living room sofa, drunk and stoned. Confused as to what she should do, Mia decided to leave it and went out. When she finally came home, at midday on Sunday, MDG was still on the sofa, hoping that she would retire to her bedroom, Mia was annoyed that she decided to stay with the couple in the living room. Mia was drunk and she had had her first fight with The Russian which led to her crying. She really wanted some alone time and tried to get the point across. After 3 hours of listening to MDG´s drunken rants, they went to bed. When they awoke at 10pm, she was gone and the couple settled down, ate dinner and watched TV before heading back to bed at 1 am. MDG came home drunk at half 4 and woke Mia and The Russian up by banging on their bedroom door loudly. Slightly panicking that something must be wrong, Mia stumbled into the living room to find a naked MDG throwing furniture around because there was no bottled water in the fridge. Confused at why it was her problem, Mia handed her 5e and went back to bed.
For the next few days, Mia avoided MDG and came home late after she knew that she would be in bed. Mia was confused as to whether she should stay in the apartment or move out, MDG woke Mia up at6am on the day the rent needed to be paid and started screaming at her. If its one thing Mia hates, its been woken up. When she finally woke up later that morning, Mia couldnt decide whether she wanted to pay another months rent and stay in the apartment, she went to help her photographer friend on a photoshoot and spoke to her boss. Still uncertain, she was enraged by the endless abusive messages and constant phone calls from MDG.
After two hours of avoiding all contact, Mia was shocked when she received a voicemail saying MDG had changed the locks and Mia had until 11pm to come back and pick her clothes up and move apartments. It was all Mia needed, some more unstability in her life.
Unsure of what to do, Mia went back to the photographer's house and stayed the night, planning to go back to the apartment when she had calmed down in the morning but when she did, she realised that MDG had changed the locks. After calling Bambi in Ibiza, Mia decided to borrow a ladder from the corner shop and break the front window and get her stuff back. Not only was she going to get her stuff back, she was also going to trash the place and show the bitch. Unfortunately, the ladder was too short and as Mia was walking back to return the ladder, MDG walked up to her and realised what Mia was planning to do.
After a good 10 minute bitch fest in the street, MDG finally let Mia in the flat where she packed her stuff and left. It took all her strength to stop herself from MDG, Mia was tempted to floor her after she had all her stuff out but decided against it...she had better plans for MDG.
One weekend when Mia knew MDG was going to Costa Brava, she took The Russian home. For two days they sat in their own love nest until MDG came home early and ruined the party. Instead of letting them be, she said an argument with Mia that caused her to get upset. You see, Mia had bought 100e worth of food which she cooked for both of them while she was under the impression that MDG would pay for half since she cant cook. Then when it came to going shopping again, MDG went by herself and only bought food for 2 days and not for Mia as well. The day before she went to Costa Brava, the two girls went shopping together and bought food which was paid by MDG. Mia thought it was fair that this happened since the bill only came to 20e. While she was away, Mia cooked dinner for herself and The Russian only using half of the ingredients that had bought. Back on arrival, MDG, more than likely being pissed off at seeing someone else happy hit the roof.
Finally after handing her 50e Mia and The Russian went to bed to avoid anymore arguments, it was another 4 days before the girls say each other and when they did, MDG was in the living room crying. Mia wanted to comfort her but as she did, MDG threw a plate on the floor and Mia realised it wasnt worth the hassel.
Later that weekend, after a long night at work, Mia came home at 2am to have a shower and get ready to meet The Russian. When she walked thru the door, she saw a naked MDG on the living room sofa, drunk and stoned. Confused as to what she should do, Mia decided to leave it and went out. When she finally came home, at midday on Sunday, MDG was still on the sofa, hoping that she would retire to her bedroom, Mia was annoyed that she decided to stay with the couple in the living room. Mia was drunk and she had had her first fight with The Russian which led to her crying. She really wanted some alone time and tried to get the point across. After 3 hours of listening to MDG´s drunken rants, they went to bed. When they awoke at 10pm, she was gone and the couple settled down, ate dinner and watched TV before heading back to bed at 1 am. MDG came home drunk at half 4 and woke Mia and The Russian up by banging on their bedroom door loudly. Slightly panicking that something must be wrong, Mia stumbled into the living room to find a naked MDG throwing furniture around because there was no bottled water in the fridge. Confused at why it was her problem, Mia handed her 5e and went back to bed.
For the next few days, Mia avoided MDG and came home late after she knew that she would be in bed. Mia was confused as to whether she should stay in the apartment or move out, MDG woke Mia up at6am on the day the rent needed to be paid and started screaming at her. If its one thing Mia hates, its been woken up. When she finally woke up later that morning, Mia couldnt decide whether she wanted to pay another months rent and stay in the apartment, she went to help her photographer friend on a photoshoot and spoke to her boss. Still uncertain, she was enraged by the endless abusive messages and constant phone calls from MDG.
After two hours of avoiding all contact, Mia was shocked when she received a voicemail saying MDG had changed the locks and Mia had until 11pm to come back and pick her clothes up and move apartments. It was all Mia needed, some more unstability in her life.
Unsure of what to do, Mia went back to the photographer's house and stayed the night, planning to go back to the apartment when she had calmed down in the morning but when she did, she realised that MDG had changed the locks. After calling Bambi in Ibiza, Mia decided to borrow a ladder from the corner shop and break the front window and get her stuff back. Not only was she going to get her stuff back, she was also going to trash the place and show the bitch. Unfortunately, the ladder was too short and as Mia was walking back to return the ladder, MDG walked up to her and realised what Mia was planning to do.
After a good 10 minute bitch fest in the street, MDG finally let Mia in the flat where she packed her stuff and left. It took all her strength to stop herself from MDG, Mia was tempted to floor her after she had all her stuff out but decided against it...she had better plans for MDG.
A To Z Of Social Whoring
Barcelona,
Beating People Up,
Being Alone In Barcelona,
Cocaine and Champagne Breakfasts,
Drugs,
Friendship,
Homelessness,
Manic Depressant Girl,
The Russian
Thursday, 13 August 2009
The One With The Hit And Run
I was too happy wasnt I? I'd finally moved back to Barcelona, got a gorgeous flat near the beach, met the most amazing guy who for once doesnt treat me like shit and then what happens? I get hit by a car.
I went out on Tuesday night with one of my girlfriends. It started off with an intercambio drinks thing in town where people meet up to pratice their Spanish and English. This was the first time we were going and I was VERY excited. Afterwards we went back to mine for dinner and then headed out to my favourite bar for a drink or two. At 2am we decided to leave and go our separate ways. As we said goodbye and I went to cross the busy road, I saw a bright light coming towards me and then bang!
I was on the floor.
I got up. Only a month earlier I had been knocked off my bike in London. I was fine, I told myself. I was more embarassed about the fact that I had been hit by a car rather than the fact that I couldnt feel the left side of my body. A crowd surrounded me, I couldnt speak. As I sat there with my head in my hands, I realised that I could of just died. Panicking I tried to think of who to call....and thats when it hit me. No one. Im all alone in this town. Bambi's in Ibiza, I dont talk to The Womanizer or any of his friends anymore and Ive decided to cut Tiger out of my life. I called The Russian, crying down the phone, I told him I'd just been hit by a car.
Shocked, he said he would be there ASAP, he was on the other side of town where he had just moved to and I knew he had a busy week ahead of him. As I sat there, surrounded by a group of Catalan people looking after me, I felt an sudden urge of homesickness coming on. I didnt understand a word anyone was saying, a man sitting next to me kept freaking out and wanted me to go somewhere with him. I thought it might of been the driver but later got told he had already driven off after he had hit me. As the police and ambulance turned up, I spotted The Russian walking towards us. The look of shock on his face said it all, I had cuts all over my arms and face and I was bleeding everywhere.
As they wheeled me off into the ambulance, I saw him telling me to answer my phone. Within seconds he was calling asking where they were taking me so they could follow. It was now just past half 2 and he looked shattered. I told him to go home, I was gonna be a while, I needed x rays done on my jaw and leg. I needed to be cleaned up and as he argued his case, I realised how unbelievably amazing he really was. This was a man I had only met a mere week ago, a man that I had only really spent 2 days with before the accident and yet here he was trying to look after me. Any of my ex's would of run half a mile in the opposite direction. The irony of it all was that The Russian would always cross the street making sure he was in the direction of the oncoming traffic with one arm on my back and the other holding my hand.
As I sat in the hospital wondering my fate, he texted me every half an hour to see if there was any progress, eventually he fell asleep and when I left I texted him what had happened. At half 6, I hopped out the hospital with a broken meta tarsal in my left ankle, damaged tendons and cuts and bruises.
Yesterday was spent at home, pretending to work but getting bored by the lack of freedom. Watching back to back DVDs and bitching about the fact that I couldnt eat because of my locked jaw. My desire for food has gone out the window and for the first time in 5 years I smoked weed hoping it would make me feel hungry.
Unfortunately I now have a job where if I dont come in, the whole place falls apart. This morning I had to come in, not only because Im needed but also because I need to pay the rent at the end of the month. I cant walk properly, I can barely walk and I came in stoned and have continued to smoke at my desk.
Im drugged up on a mixture of meds, making sure I dont have some freak OD and earlier in the day I was thinking about topping myself off. I finish work in 10 minutes and Im hoping tomorrow isnt that bad.
Whereever the bastard is that hit me and ran, I hope hes burning in hell.
I went out on Tuesday night with one of my girlfriends. It started off with an intercambio drinks thing in town where people meet up to pratice their Spanish and English. This was the first time we were going and I was VERY excited. Afterwards we went back to mine for dinner and then headed out to my favourite bar for a drink or two. At 2am we decided to leave and go our separate ways. As we said goodbye and I went to cross the busy road, I saw a bright light coming towards me and then bang!
I was on the floor.
I got up. Only a month earlier I had been knocked off my bike in London. I was fine, I told myself. I was more embarassed about the fact that I had been hit by a car rather than the fact that I couldnt feel the left side of my body. A crowd surrounded me, I couldnt speak. As I sat there with my head in my hands, I realised that I could of just died. Panicking I tried to think of who to call....and thats when it hit me. No one. Im all alone in this town. Bambi's in Ibiza, I dont talk to The Womanizer or any of his friends anymore and Ive decided to cut Tiger out of my life. I called The Russian, crying down the phone, I told him I'd just been hit by a car.
Shocked, he said he would be there ASAP, he was on the other side of town where he had just moved to and I knew he had a busy week ahead of him. As I sat there, surrounded by a group of Catalan people looking after me, I felt an sudden urge of homesickness coming on. I didnt understand a word anyone was saying, a man sitting next to me kept freaking out and wanted me to go somewhere with him. I thought it might of been the driver but later got told he had already driven off after he had hit me. As the police and ambulance turned up, I spotted The Russian walking towards us. The look of shock on his face said it all, I had cuts all over my arms and face and I was bleeding everywhere.
As they wheeled me off into the ambulance, I saw him telling me to answer my phone. Within seconds he was calling asking where they were taking me so they could follow. It was now just past half 2 and he looked shattered. I told him to go home, I was gonna be a while, I needed x rays done on my jaw and leg. I needed to be cleaned up and as he argued his case, I realised how unbelievably amazing he really was. This was a man I had only met a mere week ago, a man that I had only really spent 2 days with before the accident and yet here he was trying to look after me. Any of my ex's would of run half a mile in the opposite direction. The irony of it all was that The Russian would always cross the street making sure he was in the direction of the oncoming traffic with one arm on my back and the other holding my hand.
As I sat in the hospital wondering my fate, he texted me every half an hour to see if there was any progress, eventually he fell asleep and when I left I texted him what had happened. At half 6, I hopped out the hospital with a broken meta tarsal in my left ankle, damaged tendons and cuts and bruises.
Yesterday was spent at home, pretending to work but getting bored by the lack of freedom. Watching back to back DVDs and bitching about the fact that I couldnt eat because of my locked jaw. My desire for food has gone out the window and for the first time in 5 years I smoked weed hoping it would make me feel hungry.
Unfortunately I now have a job where if I dont come in, the whole place falls apart. This morning I had to come in, not only because Im needed but also because I need to pay the rent at the end of the month. I cant walk properly, I can barely walk and I came in stoned and have continued to smoke at my desk.
Im drugged up on a mixture of meds, making sure I dont have some freak OD and earlier in the day I was thinking about topping myself off. I finish work in 10 minutes and Im hoping tomorrow isnt that bad.
Whereever the bastard is that hit me and ran, I hope hes burning in hell.
A To Z Of Social Whoring
Bambi,
Being Alone In Barcelona,
Friendship,
Losing The Plot,
Suicide Attempts,
The Russian,
The Womanizer,
Tiger
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