*And You Will Be Fucked

I am a goodie-two-shoes; always have, and I reckon, always will be. It’s not necessarily a bad thing, but it gets in my way sometimes. Maybe goodie-two-shoes is not the word, maybe chronic over thinker or downright a little bit fucking terrified would suit me better. I wish I was more of a bad girl, that I had some more of that reckless young adult arrogance that shows their middle fingers to the world while screaming they are untouchable. I don’t believe I am untouchable, invincible, immortal. I see bad things happen in my head all the damn time. You want the worst-case scenario, a description of the downright almost impossible crazy most terrifying thing that could happen? I’ll paint that picture for you, detailed and in technicolour. That will never change, but thankfully, I can limit it to certain extents of my life – and thank fuck it doesn’t apply 100% to my (face it, pretty much non-existent) love life. I am a goodie-two-shoes, but not unlike Cinderella, I sometimes do things I shouldn’t, and lose one of my shoes along the way.

When I started this blog, I told myself I’d always be honest about everything. I’d tell the whole story regardless of what happened, but in retrospect, I surely only promised that to myself because I knew nothing really exciting happens in my love life. I go on a date, the guy’s a dick, I write some shit about it. However, this time, I met a dude, and all I can do is keep my mouth shut. Sucks, right? For once, something scandalous and/or remotely interesting happens, and I need to not spill the beans. It wouldn’t be smart – but I’ll give you this: the smarter I’m being here on paper, the badder I’m being in real life.

Most girls have a bad girl stage in High School, maybe University for those who take their time, but I’ve completely missed the boat on that one. I was too busy actually studying and reading books, can you imagine? Sure, the occasional hook-up happened, and I guess technically I can’t get married in white anymore, but it was never really worth mentioning. Until now. I might fill you in later, but this is kinda fun as well – for me, probably not for you. I can’t wait to hear what you think I might be up to. Dating a married man? Lesbian lover? Just met a nice guy and afraid to fuck it up? Hooking up with twins? Engaged to a famous Australian actor? I’m sure whatever you make it out to be in your mind is heaps more interesting than what is really happening, but in the meantime, I’m having fun. I blame the new Taylor, really.