Joanna Bolouri's Blog, page 2

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Dating and Social Media

Being active on both social media and dating sites is tricky. Recently I’ve stumbled across two married men on Tinder, a guy who hates me, a guy I ghosted years ago and someone who was a prick to a mate of mine.  I don’t want to deal with any of this information.

When you tweet as much as I do (every waking minute of the day and sometimes during nightmares) you get to know your compadres pretty well. I say ‘compadres’ what I really mean is folk who haven’t discovered they hate you yet.  So what happens when you see one of these people on a dating site? What’s the etiquette? Do you shout HAI! ARE YOU LONELY TOO?? over private message or do you keep on scrolling and give them some private time? It’s bothering me.

Would I want someone I didn’t know in person to be all ‘HA. You can’t get laid either then?’ or would I prefer they ignored me?

But what if I fancied them and they didn’t say hi and then I’d be on Twitter like ‘fuck you not fancying me’ and mentally disliking all their tweets before soft blocking them into oblivion. I had a date with a guy from Twitter and it was in my top ten funniest dates ever,  only to discover his enthusiasm to meet me again was at a minus.

Understandable, BUT STILL. I haven’t quite forgiven his good judgement.

I think there’s part of me that would like to date someone not on Twitter but then WHY THE FUCK WOULD I DATE SOMEONE WHO ISN’T FUN? Twitter has GIFS ffs.

No idea where I’m going with this one.

Hire me or something.

It’s Christmas and I have no money.

Being freelance, I have a rough/vague/no fucking idea when my next wage is coming in but I’m a resourceful woman. Single mothers have to be.  I don’t waste money. There were no holidays this year. There were no frivolous nights out on the rare night off I get, in fact I haven’t be out in a long time.

OK FINE.

A few weeks ago, I saw this situation approaching but I thought; ‘Hey, it’s fine! I’ll go work in a shop or something to tide me over.’ Turns out that no-one seems to want to hire an author whose last retail job was in 1903 when folk still used cheques and ‘switch’ was an amazing invention.

So I’m left wondering where I’ll get the best price for one of my organs. Or whether I really need a car. Or heating.

I’m open to suggestions! Anyone?

You can buy me coffee if you like or you can fund me here 

The Most Wonderful Time of the Year

My new novel, The Most Wonderful Time of the Year’ is now available on Kindle! Paperback release is set for October 20th.

Kindle Deal!!

The List is currently 99p on Amazon for a short time! Click on the pic and get reading!

Stupid dream #1

You know when you have a really weird dream and you tell someone about it and they’re all I don’t give a fuck about your stupid dream?  Well, you are about to be that person.

So I’m on a sales conference with people I’ve never seen before and we’re all sharing bedrooms on a boat. On the way there I buy some mineral-powder make-up and Christian Slater is my boss. Understandably excited by this, I decided to try and get his attention using GQ and Loaded magazines but he isn’t overly impressed.

We head to the meeting where there are unexplained Chinese acrobats in the conference room and we all cheer.

After the meeting, I show Christian Slater my dancing skills. Again he’s unimpressed but does quite like the fire I lit on the carpet.

On the boat ride home, a woman tries to sell me the same make up I’ve already bought. I tell her that I have some and she calls me a liar. When I show her the proof she informs me that Melissa McCarthy sold me fake powder made from pigskin and I feel foolish.

 

 

 

 

 

 

THINGS THAT HAPPEN WHEN YOU’VE BEEN SINGLE FOR FAR TOO LONG.

You don’t even bother doing a quick tidy before you go out. The only thing you’re likely to bring home drunk is a burger.

You believe it’s entirely possible that you’ll never sleep with anyone again but it’s not all gloom because you can’t remember what sex feels like anyway.

You tell yourself you’ll definitely start looking for a relationship, after you’ve re-watched  all seventeen seasons of Law and Order SVU.

 

When someone does ask you out, you’re not entirely sure how to react.

You shudder at the thought of having to permanently share the side of the bed where your snacks and laptop live.

The thought of having to hold in farts doesn’t seem worth the hassle.

You stop buying sexy underwear because you already have 14 sets with the tags still on.

You’re fully aware that there are people in nursing homes getting more action than you are.

 

You change your Tinder specifications to ‘whatever’

You watch First Dates and sob quietly to yourself afterwards because at least they put themselves out there and you haven’t even bothered getting dressed today.

 

Your parents stop asking if you’re seeing anyone and instead ask if you want to join them at the garden centre.

You convince yourself you’re single for stupid reasons like your ‘rogue wonky eyelash’ or ‘intimidating nostrils.’ No one will convince you otherwise.

You realise that every single person you know is attached. Even the fucking idiots. All of them.

I Followed the Rules US version

I Followed the Rules is now available in the US!

You can get it here from Amazon

or here from Barnes and Noble!

 

Phoebe’s made a new list (contains spoilers)

I’ve had loads of people asking if I plan to do a sequel to The List and while nothing has been planned, I thought I’d share a new festive diary entry.  As stated above, if you haven’t read The List, this contains spoilers.

November 30th

‘You still haven’t told me what you want for Christmas.’

‘If you wake me up to ask me that, ever again, the answer will be ‘a gun.’

I turned on the bedside lamp to see Oliver’s bloodshot eyes peering at me from over the duvet.  It’s half past five in the morning. Doesn’t anyone in this house fucking sleep?

‘No seriously’ he continued. ‘What do you want? It’s our first Christmas together with the baby. It should be a special one.’

The baby?? Actually, I’m so tired even I don’t remember the baby’s name.

‘I want a pony Oliver; in fact, I want a pony called SHUT UP IT’S STILL FUCKING NOVEMBER.’ I replied, my harsh whisper burning the back of my throat. ‘And while we’re on the subject of November, are you losing the porn star tash tomorrow? You look like a pervert. That’s not a compliment.’

He rolled over and plumped up his pillow. ‘It was for charity, grumpy arse.’

‘But no one sponsored you. You just wanted to be Tom Selleck.’

‘I think you’ll find that every man born before 1980 wants to be Tom Selleck. Anyway, why are you in such a bad mood? I thought you would have a list by now. You like lists… ’

I firmly pulled the covers back over to my side and sat up.  ‘Because I’m frustrated!  I’m frumpy! Look at the state of my hair. Actually, look at the state of YOUR hair. My entire world is made of baby! You want a list, Oliver? FINE. Here goes –

I want a bra that exposes my nipples for reasons other than breastfeeding.
I want to be able to sneeze without wetting myself.
I do actually want a pony.
Oh and I need a new vibrator because I’m pretty fucking sure I lost the other one in MY MASSIVE FUCKING VAGINA.

He did his best not to laugh, probably because he knew that I would end him if he did. Finally he yawns – ‘A pony it is then’ before going back to sleep.

What a prick.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ghost story #2

My husband reacts the way anyone would react the first time they see a ghost.

He screams.

It’s a scream that comes from the pit of his stomach, burning his chest as it flies from his mouth towards the dark figure slowly crawling across the floor.

I’m almost at his bed now.

Almost.