Broken Bella Donna

{April 8, 2012}   Squeeeee

Three  posts in 24 hours – what ARE you going to DO with me?

Secret: I sell beauty products out of a catalogue. It isn’t a job, or a career, but a means to ensure I could buy what I wanted, when I wanted, without having to rely on other lame women who think they can buy a car from the profits and soon realise that they’ll never make enough so they quit. If it makes a few bucks, bonus, if it doesn’t at least I get a discount on my shit.

So I discovered a bag of bloody perfume samples of products that are sooooo early 2000s, and now redundant, that I had poked away in a draw. Weirdly enough they still smell ok. In true 2012 fashion, I will endeavour to use all of these up by wafting around the house in scents I wouldn’t usually wear, rather than throw them out and waste them! Atta girl! Like eating fuckloads of zucchinis until you turn green instead of composting them, I shall use what I have and save money! Not that I would’ve spent any money on perfume any time soon – I quite literally have a life time supply without adding these to the fray. The world may end tomorrow, and I may have no power, no fuel, no TV or internet but damnit I’ll smell pretty.

Incidently I found these whilst trawling around looking for a long lost document I need rather urgently for my studies – a document I fear is lost. This is NOT good news for me.

I also found my old diaries – not “Dear Diary” kind of diaries (pfft who needs them in the age of The Blog?) but day to day diaries, full of appointments, meetings, birthdays, blah blah. Mine also carry a few other things – namely any quote, lines or references I’ve stumbled across that I found inspirational or particularly funny, and any texts or notes from phone conversations that I’ve wanted to keep for future note.

(Also in one memorable year I had written down two short sentences that popped into my mind, like another voice in my head speaking to me, instructing, but that’s a whole other kettle of fucked up fish!)

It’s the texts and phone conversations over a three year period that, backed up on my very maudlin state last night, has put me into very chartered, very dangerous territory.

I had totally forgotten that he told me he was in love with me.

I had remembered that he told me he wanted me bad, that he continued this talk after they got engaged and then married, that he would ‘always think very highly’ of me, that he had dirty dreams about me, that he was jealous when I spoke to other blokes, and displayed this by just being really cranky to me.

How the hell can you forget the last man to tell you he was in love with you, who you actually gave a shit about? When you spend so much time lamenting what was, and what could’ve been, and how he makes you so confused with all his crap now… how can you forget that?

I also forgot how he kept trying to find out if we could give it another go AFTER starting the relationship with his now-wife, like she was a pawn in the game of trying-to-make-me-jealous-and-get-me-back.

I also forgot one other vital thing: I was pretty hot property.

At that time I had 4, four, FOUR guys after me. And they were really nice, sweet, lovely blokes who would’ve treated me really well. I should know, three were ex boyfriends and one was a very close friend.

I know that sounds like gloating and fuck it, it is – a chick really does hit her straps in her early to mid twenties and it sure as shit is all downhill from there. I will never be that desirable, that hot, that funny and carefree and relaxed again. I wish I knew it at the time and I would’ve enjoyed it a hell of a lot more.

Now my idea of appreciated is being hit on by two married men and one guy who spends – literally – over 50% of his time totally wankered off his tree.

You know what? With a lot more confidence I could go back to being that girl. That’s my goal… to be her again.

My goal: BBD gets her confidence back.


The holidays are like this for me too … I go back and think about people and things that have been, and that aren’t now. Sometimes it’s good to remember, and sometimes it’s not, but regardless, it’s all a part of who we are and we just have to make peace with it however we can and move on with, as you said, confidence 😀

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