The start of something beautiful.

Lets start with the basics. I am nineteen nearly 20, growing older doesn't scare me, it's not the gradual increase in age which scares me about being 20 it's the next fact: I have never been in a relationship be it long term or otherwise. I even as a child or despicable young teenager never had the sort of "boyfriends" that other girls had, the sort which lasted an hour or two or maybe at a push if you were really lucky... a week! And I'm the only one out of every girl I know! What the hell am I doing wrong? Is every girl my age as obsessed with sex as me? I can't seem to go one journey in the car with my family without my mind wondering into past and hopefully future pleasures. Oh help.

Now boys were never interested in me when I was younger, and who blames them, I'll paint you the (very) unattractive picture of a young adolescent me:

• I was horribly tall. - I was 5 ft 5 by the time I started secondary school when I was 11 and everyone else was still just breaching that 5ft mark, this giant freak like height only evened out when I was 17 and my body decided that it would actually let the boys grow taller than me.
• I was ginger. I use was since with the aid of some very expensive hair dye I am now a non brassy blonde. Now when I say ginger I mean GINGER pretty much orange which wasn't a good match when mixed in with my...
• Extremely pasty white skin, which liked to turn a lovely shade of fuchsia when any form of attention or embarrassment was thrown my way. This lovely pasty skin also turns a shade of purple in the cold or even slight breeze.
• I had puppy fat, which eventually further into my mid teens turned into well fat with no dog to blame.
• I had a set of 36DD's by the time I was 14. No this doesn't sound like a bad thing in the slightest but big tits are not a thing of lust for young teenage boys, no matter what you hear. They are nothing more than another thing to mock, as if they didn't already have enough to choose from! 
• Oh and to top it all off, I was heavily into punk music the late 70's, early 80's sex pistols and clash educed era. And well you could definitely tell it from the way I dressed from the bright pink doc martens to the ripped, studded and zipped jeans to the mass amount of black eye liner.

Oh yes I was a looker and this looker had next to no sexual experience minus a few drunken snogs and one horribly failed attempted to give head. - but more about that later.

Luckily things evened out: the freakish height evened out at a respectable 5ft8 (thank god! I used to have nightmares that I would never ever stop growing, like Alice in Wonderland), I still may be pasty but the rare bit of fake tan often hides such rainbow skin, the fat well most of its gone and with the aid of a small waist and a now 36FF chest it forms an hourglass hiding the fat, put the punk music's still there however there's no indication whatsoever to it in my attire (to my mothers relief).

Back to the boyfriend thing... I'm not completely hapless, there has been sex, be it awful or amazing, its been there. However how is it every lad I end up with scarpers?

I decided to start this blog to figure out what the hell I'm doing wrong since now I'm shagless and completely sexually frustrated, I hope I figure it out soon otherwise my poor clit's not gunna last the summer.