It was Christmas Party night last night. I work in a small salon self-employed but its one of my best friends shops so her and her husband paid for us all. A lovely evening of comedy, pies and dancing.
I love dressing up and feeling great, but I don’t do it very often anymore as now I’m a girl in her 30’s I much prefer the local pubs. Dressing up for those nights is a bit of mascara and a spritz of perfume. So to say I was excited to get the sparkly outfits and the jewellery out was an understatement. However, being the most unorganised female I think ever existed I didn’t really think about looking for a new dress until a few days before, then bought about 10 and didn’t like any of them. I finally opted for a beautiful green top and sequin skirt (we won’t even go into the skirt situation!!).
So. All dressed up, hair and make up looking fab. Mini skirt showing off the length of my extraordinary long legs, and top showing just about the right amount of skin but hiding the terrible tan mark I left on my arm (again, because I’m so unorganised I decided to tan at 1.30am the morning before). I was feeling really really beautiful and good about myself.
I’ve been thinking about Mr Interview quite a bit this week, thinking that its Christmas Party weekend and that maybe I’ll eventually bump into him some place. It’d be good to see him in real life. Please bare in mind that I haven’t spoken to this guy in about 6 weeks now so why I was manifesting this in my head I have no idea. Anyway, they say if you think about something enough then it attracts the scenario. And as we have realised previously the universe is giving me a hand lately.
I’m enjoying some comedy and who appears on my phone??! Only MR BLOODY INTERVIEW! Like, seriously world. What are you doing to me. It was only a plain and simple “Hey”. And clearly that shouts Booty Call but I couldn’t resist.. I sent a cheeky couple of texts back. Not cheeky as in flirty. More the casual “Hey” back. And then a bit of “Yeh, out” and maybe a bit of “Xmas Party” when he asked where I was. Thankfully my phone battery died not long after as I did not want to show him that he could have me just like that thankyou very much (although, he definitely maybe probably could!).
Going back to how good I felt, before Mr Interview rudely interrupted. Everywhere I went last night I was star of the show. You’ve got your pretty, skinny little things that look gorgeous but you often wonder what they wake up looking like once the make up has been removed. But last night, I was the woman with the legs, and the hips, and the amazing hair, and the big green eyes (because even though they’re hazel some days they appear much more greener). At one point I had to turn to my friend and ask if my skirt had ridden up my backside and was everything hanging out as I had a half-moon shape circle form around me of guys just giving me the eye. I had a few guys try to chat me up (no chance mate), I even had one guy (who would have had a chance) watching me from across the dance floor and finally come across to, I thought, speak to me and then my beauty must have made him so nervous he walked back away and just studied me from the distance all night. Men are strange creatures.
This may make you believe that I have a huge ego and that I love attention (Who doesn’t) but here’s the thing.
I don’t like attention. I don’t enjoy dancing with a load of men circling and ogling at me. I don’t like men trying to get with me in bars and clubs. And I most certainly don’t want them trying to dance or touch me.
But what I do like is feeling confident, I see the looks on the guys faces and they’re not ones of a threatening manner, they’re looks of “That girl is fine, but she ain’t gonna come home with me so I’ll just enjoy the view and when she smiles, I’ll smile back”. Men tell me I’m beautiful all the time. But sometimes, saying it to yourself and believing it gives you more of an ego boost than when the fit guy that everyone wants says it to you whilst smacking your bum. And that’s when you know you’re on the right track in your quest to love yourself. I’m proud that I don’t need a man to tell me this, and I’m proud that when I say it to myself, I bloody well believe it!