Nor Here Nor There

I moved to Barcelona last wednesday. Did you know that? It was possibly one of the most difficult decisions I have made in my life, possibly more difficult than deciding to move here in the first place. You see, I moved to Barcelona last June. I met The Womanizer, I drank too much, partied too much, did way too many drugs and the only way to get away from him and all the madness was to move back to London. Did it work? Did it fuck.

After promising my family I wouldnt ever move back here, I left without saying goodbye and jumped on the plane. I havent spoke to my parents since. The truth is, when you immigrate from your own country and move to somewhere where the cultural shock is completely opposite to where you grew up, its very hard to go back to what you knew.

After spending 10 months in Spain where time is no concept and you can get hamburgers and beer at half 6 in the morning on the way to work, to moving to London where you have to be in a restaurant by half 9 to get a meal was a major shocker. All my friends had stayed in the same little circle, going to the shitty local clubs, falling out of cabs and into arms of strangers. Whereas as I had seen more to the world, saw countless sunrises on the Med, met stunningly gorgeous men, partied til I couldnt take anymore, explored Gaudi, ate Paella with the locals and made a complete nuisance of myself.

The reality of it was, I outgrew where I came from. I made mistakes, I fell for the wrong guy, I made myself ill by doing too many drugs, I made friends, I lost friends, I starved, I cried, I laughed but most of all, I lived. The six or so months I was in London, I wasnt living. I was exisitng. I was trying to pretend to be something and someone I wasnt and it drove me insane.

For the first time this year, I am free from any man in my life, free to any judgements made by family members and it feels fantastic. I´ve always thought of London as home. I am and always will be a proud Londoner, born and breed but when I stepped off that plane late last Wednesday night, I realised for now, Barcelona is more home than anywhere else.

Until my next post, hasta pronto!

STOP PRESS*** August only means one thing...my birthday is around the corner. Next Saturdays post will be a personal inside to moi (of course!) so you can ask me anything you wish. Remember, thats only another 8 days to go. You can either leave your question(s) - there are no limits in the comments below or email me at missmiadickinsonATgmailDOTcom.

Crisis Alert

Today I decided to self-diagnose myself with Bipolar Depression and when I say self-diagnose, I mean with the help of numerous Facebook applications. Let’s set the scene, its baking hot outside, I’m lucky enough to have the week for work yet all I can consume myself with is the thought of my ex. Now for the purpose of today’s blog, this man will stay nameless, purely for the reason that I have no intentions of giving him any pleasure of knowing that I’m still aching for him. I will however, clear the air by saying I am NOT writing about Vain Man. I’m sure many of you (especially Auri who it seems has grown a special annoyance towards VM) will be happy to know.

For once, this break up is not an issue about self-confidence and making me feel good. Too many times, it has been proven that this man still lusts for me. I know I look good, in fact I look better now than I did when I was with him, I just need to stop thinking about him

The ins and outs of the relationship are not important because this tale will be told at a later time. What is important is how I need to get over this bastard without feeling like there is a massive hole in my life when he’s not in it. After much consideration, endless happy hour cocktails and continuous perverted thoughts of every man that crosses me path, I have come to the conclusion I don’t want anything to do with him and I don’t want to be with him again. I didn’t like the woman he had made me become, I never loved him and don’t think I ever could.

So why is it so hard to get over him?

Is it because I know that he’s not good for me and I can never really have him? Or is it because at the end of the day, the power of lust and passion over a woman is stronger than love? How can I still be lusting over someone that I don’t really have a need for in my life?

Sick of hearing new of his daily dalliances, I’ve decided to move on with it and keep busy. Seeing that I still have another 5 days off work to sunbathe, shop and perve, I need hints, tips and anything else that might keep my mind occupied. What did you do to get over your last ex?

Do voodoo dolls really work? Maybe I should burn all his clothes I have and do some kind of rain dance? Any suggestions no matter how crazy or how stupid will help!