So I haven't posted in awhile, it's crunch time. I'm pretending to study for exams, so blogs haven't been at the forefront of my mind lately.

Go see the A Team. It was a fun movie.

That is all.

Me and My Body

Wow! I wasn't aware that my post would create so much discussion. It's always interesting to hear what other people think. To the anonymous reader who suggested I switch to Mac - did it years ago, and once you go Mac, you never go back.

Before I get on to today's post, I just want to tell you all that my current plan is to head over to Africa at the end of 2011 for just under a month to celebrate my 21st birthday. That is if I can get the $12,000 it's going to cost me together in time.

Today I realised that I am happy with how I look. I've never been one of those people who's been dissatisfied, but today I realised that I'm truly happy with my body. I go to the gym, and the work I put in paid off. I've trimmed weight of my thighs and stomach, and so I'm really confident with wearing pretty much whatever I want.

Our university magazine has started putting pictures of a "babe" each week. Last week was a gorgeous girl in her underwear. When I commented that I thought it was derogatory and just made the uni mag look like FHM, someone said I was jealous.

"Well no, I'm not," I thought to myself. My body is just as good as hers, and I'll pose for Jake in my underwear and less, but I won't do it for anyone else (other than for the internet, where I'm anonymous but you know what I'm getting at here), because it's something that's sacred, and I don't believe that you should take all your clothes off for the whole university campus to see.

As Good As It Gets?

What if this is it for me?

What if all I ever am is a high achiever who never goes out and is generally boring? What if that's me for the rest of my life? I'm young and I'm supposed to be out living, but I'm not. I'm in my room doing work, or going to work. I don't really want to go out and have fun. I've become an old bag lady and I'm only nineteen.

Birthday

On Thursday it's Jake's birthday.

Say hello to his fantasy -a school teacher dressed in a pencil skirt and blouse, stay up fish net stockings and knee high boots.

Scars Revealed

Before I start this blog: no, the last one was not about Jake cheating on me. I was honestly talking about a friend. If he cheated, this is the first place I'd post.

Remember a long time ago when I cut myself? I'm trying to find the blog where I wrote about it, but can't. For those of you that haven't read this blog the whole way through, awhile ago I was feeling very down and out, and I cut myself. Four tiny cuts on the edge of my left arm. I only did it the once, and never told anybody about it.

Until today. Jake and I were watching Skins (he's addicted - I don't really enjoy it very much, too much drugs and sex for me). The episode was about one of the characters and her being manic depressive. She locked herself in the bathroom and sliced open her wrists. For some reason - even though I never went that far, and never felt that extreme - it got to me and I started tearing up. A lot. Jake looked at me, and once he did it was all over and I was sobbing. He paused the show and held me,

"Baby, baby what's wrong?" I was crying so much that I couldn't speak. I couldn't breathe.

"Big breaths, Six, nice and slow. What's wrong?" Every time he asked me, I would start crying again. I felt stupid, but I couldn't help it. Eventually he figured it out.

"Please tell me you never did that to yourself." A single nod and the tears came pouring out again, but I managed to vaguely explain.

"Never like that. Only. Only once."

"You don't ever have to do that. You would leave so many people behind who care for you. Promise me you'll never do it again."

He wanted to know why. Most importantly, he wanted to know that I was happy now, that I didn't feel that way anymore.

I told him that he was the first person I told, and that no one else knew.

"I'm glad you told me, and no one else ever has to know. It can be a secret between the two of us." I nodded, crying at random intervals for the next couple of hours.

Telling him made me realise that I never really dealt with how I had been feeling at the time. Sure, I never wanted to actually take my own life, but I wasn't happy, and everything seemed to be against me. Telling him was the first release of it I've had.

Cheater?

What constitutes as cheating to you? If your girlfriend or boyfriend so much as looks at another, does that make you suspicious?

What about kissing? If you found out that your significant other had kissed someone that wasn't you, how would you feel?

And sex? If you found out that they'd slept with another, would that be the be all and end all, or would you work through it and overcome it?

My friend kissed another girl that wasn't his girlfriend. To me, this is cheating. It's not the worst kind of cheating, but it's still pretty bad. If I found out that Jake had done that to me, he'd have to do a lot of work to get our relationship back on track, and I think I'd always harbour suspicion. I spoke to Jake about it, and asked if he thought it was cheating, and he said that a kiss was hardly anything.

"So if I kissed another guy you wouldn't care?"

"No of course I would. I'd be really mad, but it wouldn't be the end of the world." I told him that he better not ever do that to me or else the trust in our relationship would be broken.

The worst kind of cheating to me though is emotional cheating. If they did it once, never again, you could forgive them. But to find out that they'd been having a continuous affair with the same person, that they actually cared about them? Heartbreaking.

What's your stance?

I came on here to post a blog, but promptly forgot what I was going to write about.