Just like Home

In the tiny village where my parents live there are three streets.
One is the main road, which does a loop along the line of the river, and is the only way in and out of the "town".
Another is the dirt road that goes up Bells Hill, a winding, rutted road only really travelled by the people who live on it.
The third is the road my parents live on.
It has the most houses, and unlike Bells Road it's actually paved. Large double blocks line the street on both sides as it makes its way casually up the hill and down again.
Nothing has really changed, nothing drastic anyway, in all the time I've known this place.
A few extra houses, some new families, that's about it.

But recently one of the farmers has sub-divided one of his paddocks. A new road has been added, which I'm still trying to remember when I think of home. New houses, on small single blocks, are slowly being added to our tiny sleepy little village.
It's an odd feeling, to know that people I've never met will be wandering around my childhood haunts. That this town, where I know every face, will soon be a bit less familiar.
The fact that I'm  moving to Brisbane doesn't really help, because when I get back it will be all the more startling to see the changes.

Life is change I guess, and it doesn't exactly bother me, it's just...odd.

Is it just me?

In my group of friends, the majority of us left over from our misfit group at school, there are only two virgins left. Not all that surprising considering the majority of us are turning 20 this year.
Actually that makes our two friends quite the unicorns for lasting this long!
Both of them have religious reasoning for not wanting to get their mac on, and both are up front and honest about it. But the thing is we have one person, who is kinda unconfirmed.

See, she was out one night with my best friend Anna and I, who are both, uhm, relaxed about the whole thing. I don't remember much about the guy she was dancing with, I was a wee bit drunk and just a little distracted, but story goes that she left with him.
That part's confirmed.
But the rest of her story gets a little iffy.

Because it changes.

At first all she told me was that they went to a church. To which I pissed myself laughing on the walk home and startled a jogger. But then when we spoke to her about it she said that they "Started at a church but it was near a main road so they moved on."
Mkay, fair enough. But we kept asking so she told us they went to a field, like a sports oval. And told us more about the topography of the place than the guy or the act.

After that she told me when we were alone that they were making out at the church and went to go around the back but there was a sensor light, so they left. BUT THEN later when we were at my place she says that there was foreplay at the church. Now I dunno about you guys but I so don't count making out as foreplay! Then she goes on to tell me that they actually "did it" (mind she never says sex or fucked or anything like that, it's always "it") in a childrens playground.

Added to that is the fact that she readily offered this information. After they'd put all their clothes back on, they found out he had lost his phone. So she offered to call it, to try to find it. The guy got all shifty and weird, so she says "Don't worry I'm not doing it to get your number."
And...oh god I feel bad all over just writing this, his response was "Oh thank fucking god!"

Oh thank fucking god.

Whoa.

Even after that she tried to tell us that they "left on good terms" even so far as to get teary eyed when Scoop (Anna's room-mate) and Anna gasped and gave her sympathy. I simply sat on the bed in shock. Literally speechless. "Oh thank fucking god" is NOT, I repeat NOT a good sign! A guy says that and you slap him and walk away, let him find his own fucking phone. Don't laugh it off and tell yourself it doesn't mean anything. We told a guy friend of ours about it and he covered his mouth and said oh shit. So it's not just a female perspective! A guy not wanting you to have his number that badly is so not a good sign, but she refuses to believe it.

What.
The.
Fuck?

So spidey sense is tingling and telling me that my dear little friend probably did not swipe her v-card. Either that or something went horribly wrong and she refuses to tell us.

She thinks that Anna and I are weird for talking about sex and everything we've done, and telling each other (and anyone who asks) pretty much anything. It's the one thing she wont talk about. But seeing as how sex makes up the majority of our discussions (sex and my current lack-there-of, which leads to many a bitch session) she gets a bit left out. Used to be she would joke around about how she was gonna "get her slut on" next time we went out, but these days when the talk turns to sex she gets quieter than a church mouse!

For example the other night, we were out drinking with a large group in our home town. Everyone was home for Easter so we all ended up at the local RSL. Anna, Jake and I started talking about sex. The Girl in Question just starts fiddling with her glass. I mentioned something about fucking outside, but even then she didn't volunteer an opinion.

So right now I'm torn between concern for her and frustation at my curiosity remaining unsatiated. Which sounds mean. But hey, I'm a bitch. I'm moving interstate next week, so there wont be much chance to grill her and find out. Not that grilling works, we tried that drunk on the bus once and she just about broke down. Gah she's so frustrating! You're meant to talk to your friends about this shit!
-deep breath-
Anyway, I'll update when/if I find out more. Which I'm hoping happens sometime this year.

Oh Brother

You may have been my worst enemy when it came to the TV remote, we may have disagreed violently more times than I can count, and yes I may have thrown things at you, including a few knives.

But.

When it gets down to it, if anyone else tried to treat you the way I do, I'd do worse to them than I've ever wanted to do to you. You're always there when I need you most, and you always have great older brother advise, even when I don't want to hear it. You're the only one who really understands our family, and one of two people who can pick up on my moods in a second. I honestly don't know what I'd do without you, even though I haven't seen you in ages, just knowing you're there if I need you makes every hard choice easier.

Fact is brother dearest, there are times, lots of times, when I feel as though I could kill you. But there's not a day when I wouldn't kill for you.

Do they just not get it?

It's a Tuesday night, student night at my mate's local bar.
With cheap drinks, a younger crowd than the clubs in the city and it being easy walking distance from the place we're all crashing it's our best bet for a nights fun.
Pre-drinking before we walk up there we chat about mutual friends, occasionally interrupting ourselves to belt out a lyric from whichever song is playing. We don't care that there are other people in the building who may not like our choice of rather loud music, we're young, drunk and having fun.
The talk inevitably turns to sex.

"You gonna hook up?" Scoop nudges my side playfully with her elbow as we walk up hill, eye brows wiggling.

"I only just broke up with Nick." I can't help but laugh.

A few shrugs and shouts to "get my whore on" follow, making me grin. The happy buzzing in my head makes everything good and I'm having fun with my girls.

Security let's us in with a smile, and one of the photographers (who take pictures of the drunken fools to put on facebook, bless them) spots us.
He recognises us from previous times, and comes over for a chat and a few snaps. Gradually we make our way to the dance floor, photographer in tow, and begin to groove.

Not even two songs in and a few of the guys in the bar have joined us, not really making a move but just having fun. Someone gets a jug of beer and even I'm drunk enough to skull a cup of it, laughing at Anna upending half a jug into her mouth. Damn that girl can hold her booze!

The pleasant buzzing keeps up, sometimes stronger sometimes fading, until the floor is full and we're singing loudly along to the tunes.

A pair of hands brush against my waist, and I blow it off thinking it's just someone walking by. But they return a second later and linger. I turn and check if it's someone I know, any number of my friends could be doing it. But the drunken leer isn't one I recognise, so I inch closer to my friends.
He doesn't get the hint and grips my hips, which immediately stop moving.
Firmly I remove his hands, rolling my eyes at my mate across from me as she raises her eyebrows.
Not a moment later and he's trying again, getting in close and grinding up against me.

Without a smile I turn again and shake my head, removing his mitts yet again and mouthing "no!" at him.

But do you think he understood?

Coming to my rescue one of my guy mates grabbed me by the hips and pulled my in close to him. Seeing me kiss Tom on the cheek the dude FINALLY got the message and fucked off, leaving the whole group of us flipping him off and asking what the fuck?

Admittedly he was very drunk, but if a chick pushes you away that many times you have got to get the message...right?

Now, I'd love to say that this was the only time that's happened...but...

Last night at a club, the only one in the City that we really go to because it's free entry. Dancing and laughing at the horrible karaoke singers, and cheering for the good ones, me and some of the same friends are enjoying a night out.
I get annoyed however, when forty-something men get in dancing next to me and my nineteen year old friends, so I'm prone to snapping. Having men old enough to be my father look me up and down with a drunken smirk isn't my idea of a good time.

So much so that by the time some sleazy looking guy grabbed me forcibly by the hips my first reaction was to throw my elbow into his gut.

But, much to my disgust, even having his mates laugh at him wasn't deterrent enough to get him to stop trying to get me to dance with him.

He was okay looking, but some guys just have a certain sleazy look to their faces that makes you want to avoid them.

After another three elbowings and a yelled "FUCK OFF!" I think he got the message...and moved on to my friend.

-insert face palm here-

Knowing her pain I rescued her and we danced together until he disappeared into the depths of the bar, but all the while I was thinking "Seriously, can guys just not take a hint?"

Because it seems to me that some guys, not all but some guys, are even more stupid than I usually think. How can an elbow to the ribs be taken as a positive reaction? How can being pushed away be interpreted as "I want you"?

So to any guys who are reading this who may be guilty of the same thing, take my advice, and just stop. Save a bit of dignity and self respect and don't keep hitting on the angry girl who obviously doesn't want you.