Diary Of A Redhead

[mylolita]

I cried the first time I saw this film. And I cry every time I have seen it since. 
 

Something got me in a still, haunting, beautiful way. I have always had such a kinship with trains. It’s now fitting and full circle that I live so close to one. They represent; escape, peace, solitary thought, lulling, journey. From a cold station into the warmth of a cabin. 
 

I could watch Spirited Away every week and never get bored of it. It feels like a childhood dream you had once that impacted you in such a deep way that, you randomly remembered it in adulthood, catching your off guard and transporting you back, back into the child that lives within you.

 

I spent hours and hours as a young teen, riding trains. I never knew where I was going, how I was going to manage, or who I was going to become. I never wanted to get off. I didn’t want to have to step over the drop back onto the platform to face static reality once again. But I knew I had to make a stop.
 

Part of me will always be running, or riding, or going someplace I know not where. Just because I no longer skip class to train hop alone, doesn’t mean I have stopped travelling, or leaving, or arriving. I hear the hush and rattle of a night train pass and, my heart feels happy and lonely, all at the same time.
 

I don’t know. What a film.

 

x

[mylolita]

My God, I love my babies so much. I love them so much that, they have taken pieces of my heart. I don’t know how it even beats.

 

My heart is so full, I don’t know how I am supposed to live on. How do I wake up tomorrow? 

 

Life can be so cruel. Beyond cruel. But it can also be… beyond beautiful. I look at their faces in the dim light falling from projected stars. I see the curves of blonde curls, long lashes resting on rosed cheeks. I realise, this is heaven. I have already experienced heaven. Heaven is to hold them, to take in the smell of their pure, precious skin. To hear them laugh. If I died, I know heaven will be the comfort of this memory, right now, tucking my babies in.

 

I don’t know how I got so lucky. 


x

 

————-

“In my time, too much love, has made me sad for so long.” 
 

- Roxy Music, ‘Take a Chance With Me’

————

[mylolita]

If anyone ever reads here - I want to say. 
 

You may think this journal is all about me. All about how I feel, what I do. Really, it’s all about you.

 

All I want to do is, ask questions. I want to ask you a question. They don’t even ever have to be answered. To ask, and ask, and ask again. For the sheer joy of asking. 

By seeing you, I hold a mirror to myself.

 

x

[mylolita]

When I was pregnant with my second baby, about 8 months after her being born, I started getting random bouts of sciatica - basically some kind of trapped nerve thing going on from the top of my butt right down my left leg. The first time it happened badly it was so painful, my whole leg went weak, and D was away, and I could hardly walk. It was horrible. The kids were full on, needing dinner and playing with and wanted to go out to the park and I could barely think about getting up and walking even across the room. I was 30 and thought, what on earth?! Last week I was at a yoga class bending God knows what and now this?! So painful, like tooth ache shooting pain right down the back of the whole length of my leg. 
 

I took a pain killer and the day after it had gone. Dull pain and random shoots of it but that was it. It would come back to haunt me every other month or so. I never went to the doctors because when it went, it just went away like magic as if all was healed and I never thought it would come back again.

 

My Dad had the same symptoms and sciatica pain - the doctor just gave him basically morphine. He said he had to go easy on them and wean himself off when the time came. This I definitely do not want. I don’t want to go down the road of strong prescription pain medication, I know how addictive it can be, and I know how likely I am to be that person who just gets hooked. So no. I’ll have to ride it out.

 

It’s just, as a Mum, sometimes you can’t help feeling you never get cut much slack, never. D is at work today. The week we moved, I did everything, because he was so busy with work and had to get on. I get it, he wants to make money to keep the house renovations moving. But I had covid and wasn’t feeling too great. I just took aspirin and kept on. Did beach, park, outings, homeschooling, everything still with the kids. The week after, he takes to his bed. It’s like, reading him the last rights. Seriously. Dawn of the dead comes to mind. He couldn’t work, all week he was gone off into a dead sleep or slumped upright in bed in his bath robe. I was running up delivering orange juice and grapes whilst seeing to the kids back and forth. The week before my middle girl had been bad, he’d been away and I’d had a day of genuine worry for her because she was red hot and folded up on the couch or bed and falling asleep whenever I turned to check on her. I just felt so alone and with so much on my hands, and not feeling in full healthy myself. 
 

I am trying to think, in the 4 years since I had my first, when have I asked D to kind of “give me a sick day” - the answer is, probably three. I have had some moody wobbles after our third bambino was born. He took the reigns a good few times then, I was all over the place for a month or two. I appreciated it. I think that time he took during my own personal crisis dented his business for sure. It’s such a conundrum. It’s so hard having no one else to call on.

 

If I call my parents, which I can, I have to monitor them. I can’t leave them alone with the kids. This can help if I just want to sit for awhile and watch them play a game or do a puzzle with them, all great. But to take a full day where I am gone? 
 

I remember when I was pregnant with my second, I must have caught some kind of bug. I just could not keep anything down and I mean anything. My son was about 16 months old. I was throwing up bile after a few hours every 20 minutes. God, I felt like I was dying, I thought, s**t, surely I might be?! I was so dehydrated my eye sockets became sunken. We got half way through the day with me taking moments to violently be sick into sinks and bowls whilst wiping down a high chair or feeding my son his dinner. 1pm and I needed to call someone. My mother in law came and I think she thought I might be faking it. D called me for her and explained, he was again, working away. She came and instantly called him and said, “She’s really sick.” The GP made me up an emergency prescription of these anti-sickness tablets but I think it was past that. So 5pm my neighbour takes me to hospital. I’m sat in the waiting room with a basin being sick into it every half hour. Everyone is looking at me but I am past caring and I give up and let tears stream down my face because I am so fed up, my stomach is in pain from the constant wrenching. I am put on a drip because I am dehydrated. God, that drip was amazing. It made me feel instantly better and SO AWAKE. Suddenly, freshly, alert and rejuvenated. The sickness had started to stop. It was 11pm. I had been texting my mother in law the whole time - where the milk was, to turn his little stars on, how to keep his routine, inbetween the vomiting and wishing death on myself! I was back at midnight and next day, 6am, there I was, back into mother mode, although I felt like I had just been dragged through some kind of beat up trial of will. Let’s just say my son watched a heck of a lot of Thomas The Tank Engine that day.

 

The tradition of having a great pregnancy and then one crazy deliberating health event kept true.

 

Second bout of dipped immune system because you’re pregnant illness happened with my third. I think, to be honest, I got covid. And normally it would have been headache and sore throat for me but able to carry on without having to rest up, but because I was so heavily pregnant (8 months), and trying to do everything still, man…I couldn’t get better. I couldn’t turn the corner to start feeling well. And the cough I had just wouldn’t go away, and I felt short of breath. And being so pregnant, you are short of breath anyway, with your baby pushing up your lungs and fighting for space with your organs. I finally went to the doctor after 3 weeks of this and he said it was pneumonia - my right lung was infected, and I got served anti-biotics which I hadn’t had since I was a kid laying on the couch telling my Dad I was too sick for school. 
 

I just got right before I was due to have my girl - but I wasn’t 100%, I could feel it. The midwife took my blood pressure and asked if I normally had low blood pressure? And I said no, I always had average, straight down the middle blood pressure. And I think I was kind of drained.

 

But I had my girl without any fuss, fast and efficient and again, the day after, I was back too it with all 3 of them.

 

I think… I need something that sounds like a Mum Holiday? Have I just invented that? It would be something like, three nights in a hotel. But then, I would feel beyond guilty and worry constantly about what was going on at home.

 

I’m normally fit as a fiddle, look rosy cheeked and full of health, and have high energy. I don’t have any actual medical complaints - apart from this sciatica nerve getting me now and then. I even hate to admit there might be a niggle. That I “can’t do my job”. 
 

I guess after 3 years of managing myself, I might have to make the dreaded doctor appointment. Sometimes I think this stuff isn’t helped by my low moods. I don’t know. 
 

Everyone needs you so badly, you just can’t cut time out. I need to look after my health better. I had grapes sat there on the bath rack this morning while I was taking a dip. I ate 4 then thought, f*** this! Turned to the biscuit tin I had laid on the floor and ate 5 of them instead. Show grapes, that’s what they were.

 

When we were in the caravan, it happened where the place was so small, that bambino had her crib in the living room. So she would nap there 8am through to 10:30am, and then again 3pm till 4pm, and then her bedtime was 7pm and the whole night I would sneak in to check on her but wouldn’t dare go in any of the times she was asleep, let alone start opening the fridge or getting things or sitting in there. I was eating my last meal 5pm and then not eating anything until about 11am the next day. I was having this 6 hour eating window, and I guess without realising I was fasting the whole other time. I felt amazing for it! I don’t know if it’s a thing, but it felt really good, once the initial hunger was gotten over. I was going to bed earlier. It felt great. Teamed with the days of fresh air outside in the sun. Perfect.

 

I keep thinking, I need to find a way where D never has to work again. He slaves so I don’t have too, but what if I could do the same for him? Solve all the problems, in a way? I daydream about it. He says the happiest thing for him would be to spend all day with the kids. I dream about throwing a letter at him, making him open it, to see a huge a** bank balance. Then throw a bunch of car keys at him. To gleefully tell him - honey! WE’RE HOOOOOOOOME! 
 

x

[mylolita]

What’s the answer to 99 out of 100 questions?

 

Money.

 

x

[mylolita]

13 minutes ago, mylolita said:

What’s the answer to 99 out of 100 questions?

 

Money.

 

x

I wish I could laugh Dias! 
 

x

[mylolita]

So fed up. The feeling started yesterday.

 

No kitchen, living out of boxes nowhere to put anything, no furniture much to speak of yet. Cistern broke on upstairs loo - I chuck buckets of water down to flush the toilet. Shower started majorly leaking into the room below. We paid a fortune to have it fitted and someone hasn’t done their job. Can’t use the shower. The whole expensive fitting - useless at the moment. Rooms are bare. Place is cold. D is conscious about not turning on the heating yet. Baby teething, struggling to get her to sleep, wakes up more easily. Hoover broke on me. £300 hairdryer I have had for a few years also broke. There is no way I am getting a Dyson replacement. Not that I want one now but, I liked that hair dryer. No curtains on most of the windows - the joiner is unreliable, hardly comes to finish anything off he has started. The garden needs a gate - the iron works are taking too long and D keeps putting it off because it’s expensive. 
 

Every time I look out into our street I see peoples cleaners dutifully sprucing their homes during the day. I see women going to hair appointments as if no financial crisis is even happening. I see my neighbours luxury car parked across the road! He’s a celebrity. I think, f****r! 
 

In the kids room, their large bay window is leaking when the rain is extreme. Useless window fitters and roofers come and fob us off and nothing gets fixed. Nothing is happening fast. Money money money.
 

I just got to thinking bitterly - money solves almost anything. You struggle with time for children? Just buzz the Nanny and she changes them and gets them up whilst you catch that extra hour in bed. You heat your home, unthinking, lights on for ambience everywhere, no stress. You fall into legal troubles? You just call up the best lawyer you need for that field. Or buy your way out. You get sick? You can pay for the most advanced, private, specialist treatments no one else can afford to get their poor humble hands on. Like my neighbour, you’re having a baby? Don’t like the idea of pushing your little apple out? Just pay for someone to lie you down and pop it outta ya! Only £20,00 and a bit. But it’s okay. Saves you pushing. Laundry and house getting on top of you? Just call your cleaner. Sick of cooking? Just ask the chef. Children falling behind on schooling? Send for the tutor or enrol in a top, private school. Only £25,000 every quarter - cheap by half! Oh yes. They can sort your head out in that fancy therapists chair who went to Oxford and wrote his own papers. It’s okay ma’am, we have it covered. The most comfortable cars, the most beautiful clothes, the best of everything.

 

People complain. But I have a sneaking feeling - money is freedom, money is choice. We understand it can’t guarantee you happiness, we are no fools. But we know it can happily enable the environment for it. Or at least relieve the burden of the rest of it.

 

I look to our wealthy friends and I always think - God, your problems seem so small. Everything is done and dusted for you with your personal assistants and your butler and your maids. How on earth could you be discontent? 
 

I am, at the core of it, disappointed I don’t have to drive or talent to give this to myself. What I consider to be some kind of solution to most of life’s problems. 
 

There are pros and cons to everyone’s time here, be it rich or poor. But the rich seem to have it easy in so many other aspects of life. To never have to worry about money again, is such a divine weight to be lifted. To have an endless power to help others, yourself - to influence or not. To do exactly what you want to do, when you want to do it. 
 

I am off on a bitter fantasy. This struggling and cutting back is no fun. I hate things right now. I hate myself for not being able to make them better. I am still beyond irritated at D.

 

I feel like everything is so horribly out of my control at the moment. I want control. I need to be able to take hold of something and feel like I am improving. 
 

I can feel my temper quickening and my mood - darker.

 

I hate these times. This feeling of “descending” mentally. I think I am going into a depression again. I feel like I could happily sleep for a week and not see a soul.

 

There is nothing noble about making do and scraping by. Not for me, anyway.

 

D said coldly too me, “Well you should have married a millionaire shouldn’t you.” 
 

I thought, you don’t get it. I should be the millionaire. I fell short of all my personal expectations. I am lazy, flawed, weak and mortal. Just like everyone else.

 

x

 

 

[mylolita]

I think around about now is the time I’m supposed to start making gratitude lists.

 

My mind says, more like a WISH list. 
 

x

[mylolita]

Also, so nothing is left unscathed - I have a bone to pick with Mr “I have another house in Monaco and I wanna kit it out with loads of your THINGS” want to spend £50,000 software firm Monaco b*****d! Well then! Do it! C’mon!

 

It’s not a rare thing for someone to spend big, or to have people call up and put you onto their interior designer (insufferable). But honestly, the universe is cruel. D told me about it and his hopes are never up because out of 10 people who say they are going to buy this and that 8 of them actually don’t. Nothing new. But I was already mentally decorating and buying my kitchen before the fact. 
 

How dare he.

 

And not a word since. Tumble weed two weeks in. I hope he chokes on the chlorine in his POOL!

 

x

[mylolita]

The joiner turns up after weeks of no show. 
 

I spent my days feeling like Beatrix Kiddo in Kill Bill…

 

Subtract the name BILL for JOHN and you have my feel on the whole thing. Where’s my plane journey and my red pen? Y’know what I mean? 
 

So he’s there, hammering and sawing and I start chatting with him and his face looks up at me and he says, “Are you feisty? Gingers are supposed to be feisty.”

 

I laugh, all coy, “Me! Me? Am I feisty? Ha ha ha! D! D!” I’m half calling into the next room from the hall. “Am I feisty! Am I? Ha ha! Nooo, not really.”

 

A dead pan, instant reply comes through from the next room.

 

”She’s feisty.”

 

I laugh. John the joiner is laughing. “Okay okay well, I wish he meant in the GOOD OTHER way!”

 

x

[mylolita]

I got a sudden urge to play this on the sound system as loud as I could stand it. I could hear it echo through the whole house. All the landings, the high ceilings, filled with love sick violin. The whole thing engulfed me, washed over me. For a second in the universe, my soul had a song.
 

All is well, even though tears of remorse and recognition came to my eyes. I can suddenly see the beauty in everything all over again.

 

Why do I have to have the darkest of nights to see the day? 

———

“A dreamer is one who can only find his way by moonlight, and his punishment is that he sees the dawn before the rest of the world."

― Oscar Wilde

———-

 

x

[mylolita]

“A piece of you Moon?! You haven’t got it to give.”

 

- Dixon Bainbridge, ‘The Mighty Boosh’ 

[mylolita]

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=sgOoSTcuLio

 

See you, space cowboy.

 

———

 

“I am just looking for a door to open.”

— Vincent

 

———

 

x

 

 

 

 

 

[mylolita]

I need a healthy outlet.

 

I’ve got too much energy; and I’m too tired, all at the same time.

 

 

Wow, I got a major touch of the feels then. 
 

But I’m sorry. Dear house, dear life - you don’t have me just yet. I’m not all beaten. I woke up this morning, and something had changed.

 

Time to kick this house into shape. I said what I wanted; and I said what I was gonna deliver. Let’s get this thing shipped.

 

No one has ever forgotten me. I can’t operate through this life unnoticed. 
 

I’m here, and I’m doing it my way.

 

Get on, or get off.

 

x

[mylolita]

The s****ier you are, the more expensive your wedding is.

 

x

[Jibralta]

12 hours ago, mylolita said:

The s****ier you are, the more expensive your wedding is.

nobb? hitt? lutt? tick? noot?

[mylolita]

6 hours ago, Jibralta said:

nobb? hitt? lutt? tick? noot?

Wait, I’m too stupid to get the joke 🤪🤣

 

It’s supposed to say… s  h  i t  t i e  r

 

🤭 x

[Seraphim]

On 9/24/2022 at 6:18 AM, mylolita said:

So fed up. The feeling started yesterday.

 

No kitchen, living out of boxes nowhere to put anything, no furniture much to speak of yet. Cistern broke on upstairs loo - I chuck buckets of water down to flush the toilet. Shower started majorly leaking into the room below. We paid a fortune to have it fitted and someone hasn’t done their job. Can’t use the shower. The whole expensive fitting - useless at the moment. Rooms are bare. Place is cold. D is conscious about not turning on the heating yet. Baby teething, struggling to get her to sleep, wakes up more easily. Hoover broke on me. £300 hairdryer I have had for a few years also broke. There is no way I am getting a Dyson replacement. Not that I want one now but, I liked that hair dryer. No curtains on most of the windows - the joiner is unreliable, hardly comes to finish anything off he has started. The garden needs a gate - the iron works are taking too long and D keeps putting it off because it’s expensive. 
 

Every time I look out into our street I see peoples cleaners dutifully sprucing their homes during the day. I see women going to hair appointments as if no financial crisis is even happening. I see my neighbours luxury car parked across the road! He’s a celebrity. I think, f****r! 
 

In the kids room, their large bay window is leaking when the rain is extreme. Useless window fitters and roofers come and fob us off and nothing gets fixed. Nothing is happening fast. Money money money.
 

I just got to thinking bitterly - money solves almost anything. You struggle with time for children? Just buzz the Nanny and she changes them and gets them up whilst you catch that extra hour in bed. You heat your home, unthinking, lights on for ambience everywhere, no stress. You fall into legal troubles? You just call up the best lawyer you need for that field. Or buy your way out. You get sick? You can pay for the most advanced, private, specialist treatments no one else can afford to get their poor humble hands on. Like my neighbour, you’re having a baby? Don’t like the idea of pushing your little apple out? Just pay for someone to lie you down and pop it outta ya! Only £20,00 and a bit. But it’s okay. Saves you pushing. Laundry and house getting on top of you? Just call your cleaner. Sick of cooking? Just ask the chef. Children falling behind on schooling? Send for the tutor or enrol in a top, private school. Only £25,000 every quarter - cheap by half! Oh yes. They can sort your head out in that fancy therapists chair who went to Oxford and wrote his own papers. It’s okay ma’am, we have it covered. The most comfortable cars, the most beautiful clothes, the best of everything.

 

People complain. But I have a sneaking feeling - money is freedom, money is choice. We understand it can’t guarantee you happiness, we are no fools. But we know it can happily enable the environment for it. Or at least relieve the burden of the rest of it.

 

I look to our wealthy friends and I always think - God, your problems seem so small. Everything is done and dusted for you with your personal assistants and your butler and your maids. How on earth could you be discontent? 
 

I am, at the core of it, disappointed I don’t have to drive or talent to give this to myself. What I consider to be some kind of solution to most of life’s problems. 
 

There are pros and cons to everyone’s time here, be it rich or poor. But the rich seem to have it easy in so many other aspects of life. To never have to worry about money again, is such a divine weight to be lifted. To have an endless power to help others, yourself - to influence or not. To do exactly what you want to do, when you want to do it. 
 

I am off on a bitter fantasy. This struggling and cutting back is no fun. I hate things right now. I hate myself for not being able to make them better. I am still beyond irritated at D.

 

I feel like everything is so horribly out of my control at the moment. I want control. I need to be able to take hold of something and feel like I am improving. 
 

I can feel my temper quickening and my mood - darker.

 

I hate these times. This feeling of “descending” mentally. I think I am going into a depression again. I feel like I could happily sleep for a week and not see a soul.

 

There is nothing noble about making do and scraping by. Not for me, anyway.

 

D said coldly too me, “Well you should have married a millionaire shouldn’t you.” 
 

I thought, you don’t get it. I should be the millionaire. I fell short of all my personal expectations. I am lazy, flawed, weak and mortal. Just like everyone else.

 

x

 

 

Hugs ❤️

[mylolita]

Who am I to define this thing?
If we get our hearts together
Take a chance on hell or heaven
In time we'll see
You decide who you would like to be
If we brave this stormy weather
Take a chance or maybe never
Live inside a dream

If you feel a bump in the road
If you need some time, take it slow

Hold on
Boy pick it up now
Don't let a good thing stop
Take my hand
This really could get rough now
But I'm the cherry on top


Baby what's the chances if you hide
From me?
If you let your soul be better
We can face this world together
Alive and free

If you're feeling lost and alone
If you need a ride let me know


Hold on
Better think it over
Remember what you got
Take my hand
I really want to know ya
You'll be my cherry on top

 

I wanna be your cherry on top
I wanna be your cherry on top

 

x

[mylolita]

1 hour ago, Seraphim said:

Hugs ❤️

Cheers Seraphim! Appreciated 😘

 

Melodramatic me. Picked it up again, feeling better, until the next dip ay! Wooooo!

 

x

[mylolita]

Sometimes I get so blue 
People say I'm just a fool 
All the world, even you 
Should learn to love the way I do

 

- Roxy Music, ‘Take A Chance With Me’

 

 

x

[mylolita]

I was bundling bambino in her snowsuit ready to plop her in the pram, when I heard giggles and talking and laughing from outside.

 

I peered out one of the side windows of the front door. 
 

“Oh God.” I said to myself. It’s what the Americans call ‘a yard sale’. My neighbour is there, mustard cardigan on, very autumnal, with pop up tables full of baby toys and clothes and nicknacks. I step out.

 

”Morning Laura! See you’re having yourself a yard sale!” The yard sale is said with my best Southern American accent. She laughs, but the reception is frosty. This gal ain’t mamas biggest fan and I’ve hardly said two words to her. 
 

“I so badly need to do my own! But I think we have too much tat the front wouldn’t be enough!” She nods. This one really gives me nothing. 
 

“Oh yeah, us too. I think half of it will go back inside. It’s a mess now inside.”

 

”Totally, clear outs are always the most messy.”

 

I was about to go and then I couldn’t help myself, I have to amuse myself, I decided to shoot the bull a bit with her.

 

”How long have you been here by the way, Laura?”

 

We get into a conversation. She’s chatting back and forth, heavy straight fringe keeps getting brushed out of her eyes. My baby girl is silent, watching us both over the low wall. She mentioned where she originally came from round here. I perked and said, “Lovely houses down there! We nearly bought one! We got beat to the pip. Well, that’s not totally true actually, they didn’t accept our offer! Or, accepted it but, much later.”

 

Interest on her part. Her skinny, plain husband shuffles out the door with a tray of sandwiches for their two kids and a cup of tea for his very large wife. He goes unnoticed and she doesn’t thank him. He stoops himself onto the wall and sits obediently. He never says hi. His eyes don’t leave the floor.
 

“My friend lived there - that was her house you went in for.”

 

”Yes, I thought so! It’s a funny thing really. We saw it and we were so desperate for somewhere to go Laura - we just called them that night and said, here’s our offer. We don’t want to get into sealed bids. If you want to accept it, please call us tomorrow. We’re not messing on, but we just don’t like sewed bid situations.”

 

She looks blankly but there is a bit of shock registering underneath her retro appearance. 
 

“Well they wanted to give everyone a fair chance.”

 

Absolute bull, I thought. They were just being greedy and hedging their bets. We offered them 15K above their asking. What they wanted was to keep us on hold and see if they could do better. They didn’t and she came running back.
 

“I think she maybe changed her mind after.” I’m dying inside at my softening. “I bumped into her at th3 supermarket and she asked me if we still wanted the house, but we had this one going through. Don’t get me wrong! I am over the moon with this one.”

 

She was staring at me.

 

”It was a lovely house your friends - I’m glad she sold it soon after. We needed to be in fast.” I throw my hands up. “I want everything yesterday! Y’know, D can‘t wait to get me out of a viewing because I’m all Ooooooo I LOVE IT I COULD CRY I LOVE IT SO MUCH!” 
 

She starts laughing.

 

”There goes the negotiating!”

 

”I bet.” She replies. She‘s shuffling her heavy set frame and I say, 

 

“Best let you get on. Good luck with the sale! I’d buy something but we need about a truck to get all our things away as it is!”

 

I walk past her front and she has a homemade sign in kids scrawl ‘All Proceeds To The Foodbank’

 

My first impressions are instantly confirmed by that sign. She sees me as the rich enemy, going in and unfairly blitzing everyone’s house offers or something, throwing my weight around. And she’s Ukraine refugee food bank liberal immigrant homeless supporting with the dominated husband who doesn’t say boo to a goose.

 

Better not open my mouth to too much opinionated conversation if I want to keep it pleasant with this one. 
 

To the left is a “civil neighbour relationship!”

 

An elderly French couple are back home soon on our right. One down, two to go!

 

x

[mylolita]

Walking along the sea front, I looked down towards the park and could see a bundle of tourists snapping pictures and reading signs. One of the guys who pulled out a camera was older than the rest. Bald, with grey stubble. A big guy, broad shouldered, with a strong face. He was heavy set and wearing utility cargo shorts even though it was cold and the sea was whipping up a wind, shuffling through the tree tops, the sounds of bristled leaves mingling with crashing waves. 
 

He instantly caught my eye and I was instantly attracted. I had a quick thought. I have a type. 
 

My type is: competent; and capable.

 

I read this phase or something similar first from Jordan Peterson. Now, before we get to thinking I am some Peterson fan girl, I have read a few of his books and I agree with most things but not everything, just to set the record straight. 
 

But it got me thinking. Most women - what they want is, not directly wealth, although that’s what some of them think it is. Or they phase it as “professional” “stable” “good career” or “financially sound” - yes, it all means the same thing. They want a competent man. They want a man who can get things done, is good at what he does (great, ideally), holds his own financially and is resourceful and confident and intelligent enough to provide for a family. Basically, the opposite of a boob. 

 

Women don’t like to admit it - but all are ruled by evolution, no matter how modern day girls doing it for themselves want to phase it. If a woman wants a family, she will be looking for competence. She’s wants her mate to have the ability there to make money, pick themselves up and keep at it through good and bad. To survive and provide. This is also why I think women hold intelligence so highly, in much higher regard than men do for women. It’s just another word for competence. There is no great need for women to be competent in the same way, generally speaking. 

 

Then we have the capable side. And this is where the bad boy debates come in.

 

Most sensible, logical women know, those wild, aggressive, untamed men are very capable in their own right - but bad for child rearing. More flighty, unstable, potentially even dangerous. It doesn’t mean most women aren’t attracted too it anyway. We seek it out like cave girls needing protection. Seek out the biggest brute and your life will no longer be in danger.
 

What most modern women are really asking for, in the other half of a man, is that he is capable. That means, he has the ability and power to defend himself and his family, to protect you. But the normal woman wants that ability, but for it to be controlled. You want the wild passion to be just ever so slightly tamed enough to not scare you. You want it there alright, but not to be used against you. 
 

As my favourite thinker Christopher Hitchens once said, part of being a man is heaving the ability to say to another man - leave the girl alone, she’s had enough.

 

We women can’t do that to other men. We have to accept the reality that we are weak and inferior physically to men. We need men to protect us, we use a man like an unspoken weapon by our side. Risk taking behaviour and strength, natural strength and health, come under this category of capable. All highly attractive to most women.
 

Not many women seek out physically weak and sick men. If they do, I get the feeling they need to dominate in their relationships, and dominate over their man. 
 

And for the last controversial *** bit. 
 

Most people are under the impression alpha females are these corporate man shunning business women who never marry and dispise children, travelling the world solo living like Beyoncé being all up in everyone’s faces and a real b***h.

 

This isn’t the case. Alpha women seek out alpha males. They don’t want a simpering man, they need an equal. Alpha males respect alpha females. I think they can seek each other out in an instant. I also think alpha females and alpha males run alone, but are never alone if they don’t want to be.  What I am trying to say is - they walk a lonely path, but make fast friends and form groups around them. 
 

I once read alpha males and females aren’t created - they are born that way. They are born stronger and healthier than the other males and females. They naturally have more energy as well. This all blew my mind from a science animalistic species perspective.

 

Have you ever been to a zoo and observed chimps?

 

Have you ever sat back on your stool and observed men and women at a bar?

 

Trust me, and I say this without any sarcasm - there isn’t hardly a jot of difference.

 

There is a dominance hierarchy, even amongst humans.

 

Look at any dating site. Men don’t need you to be laugh out loud hilarious. Having a really well paid job and having gone to Oxford or Harvard doesn’t impress them too much. When men say they want a a good sense of humour they mean they want a woman who gets their humour and can laugh at their jokes. When they say they want intelligence they mean they don’t want a woman as stupid as a box of rocks. Men look for health, physical beauty, and a caring kind nature. They are not looking for their next hero to save them, or their next breadwinner so they can stay home.

 

Now, to throw myself to the firing squad? Dear, I don’t give a fig! I’m already in it.
 

 

“My own opinion is enough for me, and I claim the right to have it defended against any consensus, any majority, anywhere, any place, any time. And anyone who disagrees with this can pick a number, get in line, and kiss my ass.”

 

- Christopher Hitchings 

 

——-

Ooh, I love my ugly boy 
So rough and tough, don't care about anything but me 
Yes, I just love him 'cause he's so crazy 
Just crazy about me (yeah)


You and me make the whole world jealous 
God knows I know my homegirl's precious 
Life is crazy I know God bless us 
Chill the *** out I got this, you 
Got nothing to worry about trust me 
You trust in Ninjie 'cause he don't play 
Everything's going to be okay 
I can make your problems go away

And I ain't scared of s**t
Whatever the f**k it is I take care of it 
If you're strapped for cash, heading straight for a crash 
I can make cash rain on your ass

Anything you want (you got it) 
Anything you need (you got it) 
Anything at all (you got it) 
Just keep it real with me (you got it)

Respect me receive my protection 
I'm always right by your side like a weapon 

 

——

 

 

 

[Jibralta]

3 hours ago, mylolita said:

 

Really good. 

[mylolita]

I had one of my favourite nights of all time on Sunday.

 

The best nights are the unexpected ones.

 

Lingerie on, tv on low, jumped my bones twice, ordered pizza in between, then more sex, then talking, cuddling, sun coming up, then sleep. 
 

If I had to re-live one evening for the rest of my life, by God, that would be it. I’m a simple girl. Three orgasms and a pizza. That’s all I ask, m’boy!

 

x