The offensive article has been removed from the Daily Mail website!

Well after a pretty eventful seven days since that bloody article about e-venge was published by the Daily Mail, it was removed last night.

The most distressing result of this defamatory article with all of its whopping 26 inaccuracies, was that it triggered a spate of harassment from my (convicted) cyberstalker for three frickin' days over the weekend, with some of the nastiness still on their blog. The irony is that this was the very same cyberstalker that the Daily Mail derided as a "maniac" in their very own paper!

When I was going to the efforts to protect the boyf and the bambino's name from being included and to ensure that I didn't appear in a 'revenge' article, it was because I was trying to protect my family and also protect myself from being falsely accused of the very thing that I have a five year ASBO protecting me from the actions of my cyberstalker!

Instead, the article triggered a spate of harassment and hate as the cyberstalker took great delight in believing the projection of their own crimes on me were now actually true and breached the crap out of the ASBO!

I was going to say that the Daily Mail have no idea what it is like to be cyberstalked, but they do actually, because they didn't mind writing about how awful it was before... It was so demoralising having to go to the blogs that had shown me support and explain that the person placing nasty comments accusing me of being a stalker or pretending to be my "slandered" ex boyfriends, is actually my harasser.

And what's even worse is that some of her other victims got caught in the backlash of it too and even though it was irrational at the time, I felt guilty that someone else was suffering again unnecessarily.

Anyway, at least it has been taken down now in what is described by the managing editor as a "gesture of good will" whilst the Press Complaints Commission investigate...

In the meantime, it's time to get back to normal sleeping, eating, and living, as I can't allow what has happened or the waiting game to consume me as I have an 11 month old diva with questioning chocolate brown eyes that wants my attention, to destroy the house, or to use the TV stand or shelves as a climbing frame...plus I have the boyf who has missed having a laugh and hurling competitive insults over the Wii Fitness....

In all of the craziness that ensued last week, it was great to find support in so many lovely people whether they wrote to me, commented, wrote a comment of support, or even went to the Daily Mail's website and left a comment (that never got published). Thank you.

This isn't the last of this as I now have to await the result of the investigation by the Press Complaints Commission, but for now, I can rest a little easier as that bloody page has been taken off their website.

I'm Tired of the Daily Mail and their "tongue in cheek" article

Thanks to everyone who took the time to comment or post about, or even email me to show their support over the article that appeared in the Daily Mail last week claiming I set up this blog for "e-venge". Whilst I am still angry with the Daily Mail about what I feel is a very personal and public attack on my character, my issue with the Daily Mail represents the wider issue of how bloggers are perceived and treated by 'traditional media' and whether 'facts' actually enter the equation in certain newspapers.

Recently Zoe (Girl With a One Track Mind) blogged about plagarism from bloggers over at The Guardian and in particular mentioned Jonny B, who found his posts in the Mail on Sunday without his permission. He subsequently invoiced them but after agreeing to pay him, they actually had the cheek to refer to bloggers as "amateur writers" and claim "most people are happy to have their work recognised and displayed to a wider audience."

It seems shocking that a paper that's been more than around the block a bit would be so unaware of copyright laws but...the Daily Mail writes...for the Daily Mail. They have a Make-It-Up-As-You-Go-Along policy.

Which is why I shouldn't really have been that surprised by Laura Topham's hatchet job of me. When I phoned her on Wednesday reeling from the article and the scurrilous comments left by some of their readers, Laura denied that the paper had said that I took revenge online. Really?

"Natalie, like a growing number of other betrayed and deceived women, decided to take her revenge online."

I angrily read out several of the ridiculous untruths that had been published about me and her response was to tell me that it was "tongue in cheek...It's empowering..." and then in an attempt to sidestep the issue at hand she said "I can't believe they forgot to put in a link to your site and the ebook... I think readers would really love it...." and continued to repeat this musing aloud for the remainder of the conversation.

Can't you believe it Laura? I find that hard to believe considering that a link to any of my blogs would have made the Daily Mail look like they employ "amateur writers"... Unfortunately she didn't count on hundreds of their readers searching for "Natalie Lue blog" every day and finding out for themselves.

I wonder if they were confused by finding various snippets from aspects of my life, a blog full of women asking for relationship advice, or the latest hot off the shelves baby and mummy products?

So not only do the Daily Mail seem to have an aversion to dealing with the facts that are given to them about a story, but they will actually deny the printing of their own 'facts', and then in the face of confrontation, chalk it up to "tongue in cheek".

Who gets to decide what is tongue in cheek? Is it me, the person lined up with two other women under a headline about "e-venge", even though I said that I hadn't and would never take revenge and repeatedly stated that I didn't want to be in a revenge article?

Is it the reader, who judging by the comments that were placed before the Daily Mail halted publication of them, didn't see it as "tongue in cheek" and some of them were quite nasty?

Or is it the Daily Mail newspaper?

But then, if you're going to refer to my article as "tongue in cheek" should people who read glaring, sensationalist, often offensive headlines on the front of the Daily Mail, never mind inside it, then perceive all editorial in the Daily Mail as "tongue in cheek"?

Should Daily Mail readers buy it to find out the "tongue in cheek" humourous side of their sharp stance on immigration, the scaremongering stories about health issues, or their reporting about various murders? Maybe after they've finished reading it, they should then buy a proper paper to find out the facts...

Where do you draw the line? How do you determine which editorial will be factual and which will be a made up story, suitable for one of those 'real life' magazines?

Is providing "tongue in cheek" content the Daily Mail's editorial policy?

"Can you believe a thing you see on ITV?" Fridays front page roared. Well, based on their recent form, I think the bigger question is Can You Believe a Thing You See in the Daily Mail?

The Daily Mail thinks that they are in the driving seat here.

They write their stories to suit their own agenda, shouting their twisted views, shaping their readers opinion on it, allowing readers to jump all over the bandwagon and comment about it, and then when confronted, claim it's "tongue in cheek".

They take content without permission from bloggers and when confronted refer to them as "amateur writers" as if a blogger should be grateful for their work to appear in their paper...without their permission...

What if Jonny B had his own editorial policy which said that he only wanted to appear in certain media outlets and that he didn't want his work in there? What if they'd asked his permission and he'd said no? Well I guess they'd have gone ahead and published anyway because his view doesn't matter.

In fact, nobody's views but the Daily Mail's matter because from the moment that you build an editorial policy around spoonfeeding to an audience of people who clearly don't know the difference between fact and "tongue in cheek" works of fiction, the Daily Mail is doing a huge disservice to their readers.

Is there no story in facts? There are a lot of shitty, horrible, devastating, exciting, wonderful, REAL things that happen out there in the world - Why do we have to be subjected to works of fiction and embellishment?

I don't know what it was that governed the Daily Mail's decision to publish that tat full of 26 inaccuracies but it feels very targeted and personal and it leaves me with a couple of burning questions:

There are 3 people in the feature and they've made up a story about me. If I am to take the situation at face value: Why when you have two other people who have called up wives, used their exes email accounts and hacked into websites, would you lead the article with and consistently refer to, the one person who you've made up a story about?

Or is the whole thing a work of fabrications, embellishments, and omissions about all three of us?

Whatever the motivations are for the Daily Mail to show such a blatant disregard for the facts, a persons character and their family, and the work of bloggers, one thing is for sure - the only amateurs here are the Daily Mail.

Update 14th May
The Daily Mail have removed the article and sent me a letter...

Again thanks to all of those who have taken the time to blog their support (I'll continue to update the list) :
Dollymix - Cate Sevilla
It's About Making Babies - Brad K
Shimmering Thoughts - Serendipity
Black and Married with Kids - TheMom and TheDad
Cheekie Talkback
Rachel North
One Man Blogs - Gordon McLean
Bad Girls Guide - Vixen
40s Singleness - Lisa Q
Leyton.org
Feeling Listless
The Make - Thomas
Emchi
Morphological Confetti - Stephen Bess
The F Word - Contemporary UK Feminism
Never Mind the Bloggocks
License to Roam
Longrider
Slaminsky
Real E Fun
New York Moments

The Daily Mail Newspaper Tells Everyone that I Blog for "E-Venge"

On April 30th just after 3.30pm, I snatched up my phone and bit the bullet. I called up the journalist that had 'interviewed' me (I say this loosely) and expressed my upset at her not actually stating that she was interviewing me and my concern that I would be included in a feature about revenge, which is not what I, or this blog are about. I told her quite shrilly (I was stressed for fecks sake) that I did NOT want to open the paper and see something like "Blogger gets revenge on ex with her blog!" or some other pathetic headline.

I went onto the Daily Mails supposed section for women yesterday and actually nearly threw up in shock!

"Don't get mad, get E-VENGE!"

It's even worse in the paper where just in case the Daily Mail hadn't quite put the full boot into misrepresenting me and featuring me in article full of TWENTY SIX inaccuracies about me, they added a sub header of "It's the new mantra for women using the internet to take revenge on cheating men".

Really, I don't think I have EVER been so angry!

I want to categorically state for the record that I did NOT set up this blog to take revenge on my ex. I set up this blog after a bad date with PC Plod, the extremely nice guy but incredibly boring copper. God that was almost four years ago!

I found out that my ex had been cheating after I started the blog - actually it was the following day. But actually, you don't need me to tell you this because anybody can read go back and check the facts and see for themselves!

Update May 9th - Here are some examples of inaccuracies:

"Natalie like a growing number of other betrayed and deceived women, decided to take her revenge online. 'I woke up at 5am and felt an overwhelming urge to vent my anger'.....'So I logged onto my computer and set up a blog'"

Total and utter poo. This is my first ever blog post. I did set up the blog at 5am because I couldn't sleep. Considering that I didn't know when I started the blog that my ex had been doing a bit of overlapping, how could I have felt such anger to set up a blog?

"In the past, Natalie might have taken revenge by cutting up her faithless fiancé's clothes, or perhaps even trashing his beloved car."

Today, I had to face the embarrassment of my neighbour asking me "So have you cut up other exes clothes or trashed their cars?" This line in the piece implies that had I not had access to the internet, I'd have done exactly that or 'may' have done this in the past....

"It felt great to release the pent-up frustration," says Natalie Lue, who was engaged to Tom for five years, but discovered his infidelity only after ending their relationship.

I told her I started the blog to vent about my frustrations about dating. I was also engaged for about 15 months...



"And because we'd met through colleagues and shared mutual friends, lots of people knew exactly who I was writing about."

Total bollocks. I blogged in anonymity for almost two years! A handful of people knew about the blog but the vast majority of my readership was strangers! I hadn't even worked with the colleagues we met through for a year when I started the blog, and I haven't spoken to or seen them for about three years!

"But once Natalie had finished pouring scorn on her ex-fiancÈ Tom, she found herself reluctant to give up her blog."

Once again, the Daily Mail is making me out to be a cyber bunny boiler who just couldn't stop wreaking revenge or should I say "pouring scorn" on my exes. This is a personal blog, a diary which has provided snapshots of my life. As I didn't start this blog to take revenge, there was nothing to be reluctant about giving up! This is a total and utter fabrication!

***

Just to show how inaccurate the Daily Mail are, let me give you some interesting figures:

In June 2004, my first month, I wrote 23 posts (yeah, I was single and used to update frequently!)
Out of 23 posts, only one post is dedicated to him which equals 4% of the content.
There are 2 more posts that make a reference to him. 1 post is a positive reference and 1 post is about men peeing on toilet seats and I wisecracked that he missed the rim.

In July 2004, I wrote 27 posts. 0 were dedicated to the subject of him. 2 made a reference to him and 1 made a reference to our engagement ring which I just realised that I have still forgotten to sell after FIVE years!

In August 2004, I wrote 22 posts. 0 were dedicated to the subject of him. 2 made a reference.

That means that out of 72 posts written in 3 months, 1 PERCENT of the posts were dedicated to him!

8% referenced him.
1% referenced the engagement ring.

Now what they don't know is that FORTY THREE PERCENT!!! of posts in June 2004 seem to mention toilet seats and the fact that I was living with that strange man boy who literally couldn't p*ss on a toilet seat to save his life!

Now, how the hell did the Daily Mail come up with the idea that I set up a revenge blog when I wasn't even writing about him, never mind taking revenge? What was I doing? Taking revenge on toilet seats and men that can't pee right?

Oh and I went from being engaged for 14/15 months (I forget now after soooo much time has passed) to being engaged for FIVE years! We've been broken up for five years and I've lived in London for seven... I'm only thirty so did they think I was some sort of frickin' child bride?!

Twenty frickin' bloody six inaccuracies or just outright fabrications about me in one poxy article and to add insult to injury, they didn't even mention Baggage Reclaim which was the only reason why I had initially agreed.

Of course I have written to the Press Complaints Commission, the editor and yada, yada, yada, but the fact remains that their papers become someones loo roll the next day but that pile of shite that is their article is up online telling anyone and everyone that I am an e-venger. It's pretty disgusting and what's most appauling is that they have reduced four years of this blog, two and a half years of Baggage Reclaim, a year of Bambino Goodies, and various other blogs plus my contributing...to an act of revenge....against someone who didn't even mean enough for me to even fully dedicate the one blog post about his cheating. I even said "The revelation last night doesn't hurt, but it does anger me, but even that has passed." and then in true me fashion, I rambled on about my period....

Oh and I know for a fact that they stopped publishing comments on the story yesterday as I was contacted by several people who said that they had commented to set the record straight. So not only do they want to put up 26 inaccuracies about me, but for some reason, they don't want anyone to know about it...

If this was pre-internet days, I really would be up sh*ts creek without a paddle but thankfully the internet which has made me connect with thousands of people, make quite few friends and acquaintances, and even a stalker...has meant that at least I can respond.

Jaysus!

Update 14th May
The Daily Mail have removed the article and sent me a letter...

Update 9th May - As I start to put the word out about what has happened, I want to include links of other bloggers comments of support on their blogs. Thank you!
Dollymix - Cate Sevilla
It's About Making Babies - Brad K
Shimmering Thoughts - Serendipity
Black and Married with Kids - TheMom and TheDad
Cheekie Talkback
Rachel North
One Man Blogs - Gordon McLean
Bad Girls Guide - Vixen
40s Singleness - Lisa Q
Leyton.org
Feeling Listless
The Make - Thomas
Emchi
Morphological Confetti - Stephen Bess
The F Word - Contemporary UK Feminism
Never Mind the Bloggocks
License to Roam
Longrider
Slaminsky
Real E Fun
The Kaptain Kobold Blog
New York Moments

My updates
I'm Tired of the Daily Mail and their "tongue in cheek" article

Followed by another strange man, making an accidental w*nking sign, and hiding my ruffled bum from a photographer

Sweet baby Jesus and the angels, it's been two weeks! It wasn't intentional; life as usual is pulling my pants down and giving me a slap. I tell you, much as I love being self-employed, time just seems to disappear and I'm constantly busy!

Anyway...so today I'm in Waitrose with the bambino when I get approached by a tall black guy as I debate whether to get some mini banofee pies.

"Hi...sorry to bother you...but do I know you from somewhere?" he asks eagerly.
Dragging my eyes away from the banofees, I reply "Umm...no...I don't think so...."
"I'm sure we do...I think we've met..." he says hurriedly and launches into lots of made up stuff about how he thinks he knows me, asking if I lived in central London before, and insisting he knows me.
"No...really we haven't met before..." I had never laid eyes on him. At this point the bambino cranes her head around the pushchair and scowls at him.
"Ah...cute baby! But seriously, I'm sure I know you. I saw you crossing the road outside and I followed you into the store...I mean I er...."
"You followed me into the store?" I said backing away. What is it with strange men following me?
"Well...no...I..er..well I thought I knew you and I was coming in here anyway. Look, I don't want to keep you if you have somewhere to go" but he didn't actually move.
"Um...yeah.. I have somewhere to go.." and then he just starts asking me lots of questions.

Do I like England? Is my partner white? Am I still with my partner? and many more questions, which I either didn't answer or gave vague responses. It was an awkward situation where I didn't know what to do next without being really rude or giving him another opportunity to follow me.

I think he noticed that I was disinterested because he made a beeline for the bambino who scowled at him again and then started bawling her eyes out.

"Look, I have to go. I really don't know you and I have to go!" I said firmly and I grabbed the handles of the pushchair purposefully.

"OK, well it was nice talking to you!" and he scuttled away.

Then my CSI/Columbo/Jessica Fletcher hat went on and I became curious about what this mofo was up to, so I waited a couple of seconds and then the bambino and I followed in pursuit. I checked the first couple of aisles and there was no sign of him and I moved onto the meat aisle where I needed to grab some chicken anyway, and he was looking seriously shady peeking out from the end of the aisle. I quickly grabbed up the chicken and studied it furiously, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw him walk by me hurriedly, pretending not to see me. I waited a couple of seconds and then I made a beeline for the end of the aisle, just in time to see him leaving the store sans any shopping!

Me thinks this crackerjack followed me!

Honestly, what is it with strange men approaching me? I thought having a baby was supposed to ward them off!

In other dodgy news, I spent the morning in my clients office a couple of weeks ago and I met one of the directors for the first time. He was very charming and jokey and was making a lot of random jokes that you sort of tee-hee-hee along to politely and he asked me what the sign was when you want a waiter to bring you water. It was all over in seconds but I felt myself raise my arm in an uncontrollable movement that can only be described as the wanking (masturbation for US readers) sign. Everyone froze and I went puce right down to my toes and lost the power of speech! As everyone fell around laughing, he gave me one of those amused looks that says 'diiiiirrrrrttttyyyyy girl' - really I'm not!

In even more dodgy news, I was interviewed for the Daily Mail (No, I don't read it before anyone asks!) last week about Baggage Reclaim for a feature they're doing about women who use the internet to write about their relationships. They were definitely looking for a revenge angle so I'm sure they were sorely disappointed when it became clear that it was more about entertainment (God it seems like ages ago when I used to take the piss out of dates) and understanding myself, and also about empowering other women.

The photographer came around on Thursday and I was told that I couldn't wear my jeans because the Daily Mail like skirts and dresses. Fortunately I had a Calvin Klein dress (thank you lovely US exchange rate!) and I slipped into it and put on some heels for the first time in ages. I got back downstairs to make some tea for the photographer and for some reason patted my arse and realised I was wearing knickers with a bit of a ruffle on the arse. Panicked I realised that I would have to hide my arse till I got a chance to run upstairs and change, so cue me making tea and walking sideways and backwards around the kitchen as we chatted. To give credit where credit's due, he didn't notice my odd behaviour; either that or he had the good grace to pretend....

Love thy neighbour. Wouldn't it be better if I just gave them a cup of sugar?

I haven't been on friendly terms with my neighbours since I moved away from Dublin about seven years ago. In Dublin, people know if you fart in a different way to the way you did the day before and everyone feels like they know everyone. The whole neighbourly thing is just not the done thing in London where it's a cardinal sin to ask a stranger for directions nevermind acknowledge that there are people living next door to you. It is OK to fart like a trooper without saying pardon on public transport though but that's a whole other story...

Since we've been doing country living on the edge of London though, it's starting to feel like I know half the town. I can rarely leave the house without bumping into someone I know and it's kind of fun. People wave to you when you walk by the shops and they know me quite well in Waitrose because I can't stop going in the place...OK that and the fact that I threw up all over their store, keeled over, and writhed in agony in their first aid room.

Anyway...a few weeks ago I had to go and see my new neighbour because I was p*ssed of about them piling up lots of bins outside the side of our house. We ended up chatting and I forgot about it till yesterday when I opened the front door and he said "Do you remember that time when you said if there was anything we needed, I should just call over?"

I stared at him blankly and a thought popped into my head. "I was kinda thinking cup of sugar territory..."

"Er yes..."I said warily.

"Well we need you!" and he launched into a rather long story about how his girlfriend had hurt her neck, he'd called an ambulance, now they were back home but she couldn't do very much.

"Basically, can you go over there in about half an hour and put the kids to bed?" They're one and two and a half.

It took a few moments for the request to connect with my brain and I could feel myself blinking furiously and my face flushing. He stared at me with an imploring look.

"I..er...yes...OK" I said in false bravado.

I admit...there was a moment when I wondered if it was all a ploy and I was going to be sold into slavery. I phoned the boyf up and explained what had happened and suggested my theory. I was greeted with silence. "OK, OK...maybe not slavery but they better not be any of those freaky deaky country people that get you to put your keys in the bowl and get swinging...." More silence and then him making me promise I'd call as soon as I got home. Ah, maybe he was worried!

Half an hour later, the bambino was hovering by his kids bedroom door as the one year old shrieked the place down like there was some heap of murderation going down. Wrestling with me as I tried to carry her to the bedroom, I actually didn't know whether to laugh or throw myself on the floor. The bambino, normally one to be walking along by guiding herself around the furniture or emptying out the drawers, eyed me suspiciously.

As I finally managed to get the one year old into not one, but two sleepsuits (I had no idea some people dress their babies like this!), the bambino went into meltdown mode and started slapping my leg as if to say "Get your frickin hands off that baby!"

I was glad I was able to help out but my God it was stressful and awkward! The kids had no idea who the hell I was? The two and a half year old would start shrieking when I so much as even attempted to walk towards her cot! I was mor-ti-fied!

When I got home, I packed the bambino off to bed and had a glass of wine to mellow myself. How do I get myself in these situations?

On another note, an email from HMV has just notified me that my Wii Fitness will be arriving within 5 days! Yay!

On a totally different note, my ma ended the Cold War and came to visit last Thursday. The joys of having a baby mean that mamas with grudges have to let go of them if they want to see their grandchild! She keeps saying "It's ages since you've been around to visit" Er, yeah I know! You were frickin blanking me for nearly five weeks hence the lack of visits! Mothers!

Sometimes I think it would be so much better if my family actually WERE

Well it's been a crack filled couple of weeks that's for damn sure. I've decided that my family are crackhead nutters. I almost think I should shove a crack pipe in their face and make their madness legit.

My ma and I, well it's day 30 in My Ma is Not Speaking to Me Even Though There isn't a Legitimate Reason. She did call me on Day 21 but after doing the usual filling me on herself and her various shenanigans, things quickly disintegrated and it became apparent that unless I groveled and let everything slide, the battle lines would stay enforced. There was some heavy artillery brought out and I'm sad that we still can't see eye to eye, but I just can't be involved in the games or the crackness. It's funny sometimes...but actually, on the whole, it's all just rather draining. I love my family, but my own family has to come first, particularly the bambino.

Do you know how all of this started? Because I didn't want to get drawn into the constant arguments between herself and Dial M for Bro - the 22 year old Monosyllabic, Moody, and Mean. I also didn't appreciate the flippant comments about him possibly ending up living with us one day as I have no desire to raise a 22, almost 23 year old. I made my feelings perfectly clear - he is always welcome to stay over but he can't move in. It wouldn't be fair on us or the bambino. Of course they had another argument and he ended up at our place and I felt very backed into a corner as if being challenged to see if I meant what I said. Cue this whole pallava...

Anyway...since then, Dial M for Bro phoned me up one day looking for fifty quid in his brisk Dublin tones where you'd almost believe he was brought up in inner city Dublin, instead of going to a posh school and living in surburbia... I agreed for the sake of peace and quiet. This was at 5pm. I'm in my bed minding my own business, when my phone rings at 11.15. I answered it worriedly because people don't phone late unless there is something wrong. Right?

"Er..NML, remember that money I said I needed. Well, can I come round and get it now?"

"Have you lost your effing mind? I am in my bed!" I howled at him.

"Well you didn't have to answer your phone" he said petulantly.

"You didn't have to bleepin' call me did you?"

Of course I declined. I'm not a gangsta hanging around on street corners late at night. That and he would never have managed to get a train to mine and back...

Like a numpty, I spent half of the following day trying to reach him. Why the frick am I chasing somebody about borrowing money from me? I felt like Samuel L Jackson's mother in Jungle Fever!

I heard nothing and after a week, I heard the door knock and I answered it to find him on my doorstep. I was on the phone to a client so I let him in without a word. I got off the phone.

"To what do I owe this great pleasure?" I quipped.

"Er...do ya remember that money I said I needed. Well, I need it!"

I couldn't believe the fecking cheek of him and I let him have it with both barrels. I sometimes think that my crackerjacl family take me for a mug.

"Jeesus! Stop busting my balls!" he whined.

"You have no idea what busting is!" and I gave him one of those shrivel your nuts looks.

"I was thinking...you know, you all need to chill out man...You know...relax...let things go...You're all too uptight!" he said with a grin.

"Are you stoned?" He claimed that he wasn't and that he'd just woken up.

Does he think I just fell out of a tree?

So yeah, it's been a busy two weeks but I shall be back...I have been beavering away (that's working not my va-jay-jay) and there are a few big things going on that I will talk about soon..... Must go, the boyf's snoring with the rubbish vampire movie in the background is reminding me it's sleepy time!

She's still not speaking to me...so I shall bask in the silence!

Day 18 in NML's house, her ma is still ignoring her even though she has no reason.

Yep, it seems that peace and quiet will continue to reign. Whilst I have been irritated at her behaviour (OK p*ssed off) at times, I recognise that this is an opportunity to not have to cater to lots of drama and enjoy normality. There's no denying I love my ma but I don't like relationships with anyone where it's their way or the highway. If I was five and she could threaten me with a can of whupass then things would be different, but I'm thirty. Those times of expecting that I will say, do, and think as you want are over. I am a firm believer that if the only way you can have a relationship with me and be happy is if I only do things on your terms, then we can't have a relationship, that's why I stopped going out with assclowns.

Considering how many I dated in the past, I have been down the road of jumping to someone else's beat far too many times and the only beat I jump to, is my own now.

I must get one of those clocks for the blog which shows the number of days since she stopped speaking to me. The whole situation is so ridiculous it's funny!

In the meantime, the boyf has FINALLY put the bed back up after, oh I don't know, four months! Two more paintings have gone up and I've threatened to put them outside if he doesn't sort out the remainder. It just goes to show...periodical nagging does pay off...after a few months! Note to self: increase frequency of nagging and stop accepting excuses of bad back, sore toe, extra bone in the foot pain....

Cadbury's Creme Bambino and Crackerjack Ma's Not Speaking to Me

Towards the end of the Easter Sunday service, the priest was giving out Cadbury's Creme Eggs. I didn't go up first time around but when he said that there were still loads left, the boyf's mum urged me to go up, knowing how much I love chocolate. I carried the bambino up with me and her eyes lit up as they held out the foil covered egg and she snatched it gleefully, refusing to let it out of her grip. A few minutes later we headed off on the short walk home and I looked in at her in the pushchair where she was still clinging to the egg in worship.

I peaked in at her half way home. "Boyf, you don't think she's managed to break the egg do you?" I said worriedly. It was difficult to see with the raincover and the snow.
He looked in. "Nah..."

Minutes later we were home. I lifted up the raincover and was shocked to be confronted by a guilty looking bambino smeared in chocolate and goo. Somehow, she'd managed to pierce the foil and the egg and there was a ring of goo around her mouth, it was all over her clothes and her hands were unrecognisable! She giggled as she tends to know with all of her almost ten month old spidey senses when she's done something naughty. We took pictures of her and had to carefully bring her inside where we washed the sticky little mischief maker down.

I realise that I have many more times ahead of catching her doing funny things....

In the meantime, crackerjack ma isn't speaking to me. It's day ten and it's been an oddly quiet, drama-free period. Without boring you (and myself) with the details, she's essentially annoyed with me for 1) not allowing her to do and say as she pleases, 2) not thinking what she wants me to think, and 3) calling her on things that she says and does, rather than pretending that it's all hunkydory and giving her free reign to run roughshod over me.

I sometimes get nervous of turning into my ma in my old age until I remind myself that we're very different people and that if I don't want to behave in the same way with the bambino, then I will ensure that I don't.

At the end of the day, it's her loss and by giving me the blankety blank cheque book and pen, it's really the bambino who she is missing out on. As I haven't done anything and she's decided she's not speaking to me, I see no reason to chase her up about it. I'm sure in time she'll decide to get down off the crackpipe highhorse and until then, I will bask in the peace and quiet and be thankful that I'm not the one listening to all of the crackerjack tales and melodramas...

End of the line for my 'career break' and does my forehead say overworked guidance counsellor slave?

Jaysus! I'm rapidly learning that being self-employed and working from home sucks up a lot of time and energy. But...I'm really enjoying it which is lucky because I won't be going back to the Big Scary Media Owner. I think I knew it was game over when my maternity leave was described as a "career break"... Fortunately I was holding all the cards because I hadn't placed all of my eggs in one basket and had made the leap to becoming self-employed...but still...it was a bit much to digest after nearly five years of media slavery (joke!) and bringing in millions of pounds to boot. Ah well! Onwards and upwards!

On the same day that I found out about my accidental "career break', B (long time friend and work colleague) also had her leaving do. It was funny hanging out with my old cronies past and present including Girth (guy who looks like a burglar in tight, high waisted Simon Cowell type trousers and leather gloves who has always insisted I call him 'Girth'...) who made my eyes water with sick stories. I finally managed to escape him and I ended up being given the full lowdown by another guy about his relationship problems and sex antics. What is about me that has people telling me all sorts of unsolicited stuff about themselves?! I didn't know where to look!

The boyf and I have had some funny battles over housework. Apparently because I work from home, it's only natural that I should end up doing the bulk of the chores! "I AM A WORKING WOMAN YOU KNOW! THIS IS LIKE HAVING THREE JOBS! SELF-EMPLOYED, TICK. MOTHER, TICK. SLLLLLLLLLLLLLAAAAAAAAAAAVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVEEEEEEEEE, TICK!" Cue much laughing from both of us but strangely enough, he has started doing more chores around the house. I'm still planning to get a cleaner though.... I might not even tell him and then he can believe I'm superwoman. Hee hee!

'Where's the tumbledryer?' has become the new 'Have you got a boyfriend?'

I'm going to shoot the boyf if he doesn't do all of the things around the house that he swears he's going to do every week. My ma bought us a tumbledryer nearly 3 weeks ago and it's sitting in the workshop outside..in the box. When she gave us the money for it originally she said "Now you'd better buy a tumbledryer. I'll want to see it!"
"Er...it's not like you're going to come around and ask where the tumbledryer is and I'll say it's popped to the shops!" I said in exasperation.

So now what's happening? Every frickin time my ma visits she asks about the tumbledryer! This is just like when I was single and my ma used to ask if I'd found a boyfriend...even if she'd spoken to me the day before! Every week I have to make up ridiculous excuses for my lazy boyf and in today's one I claimed that he'd hurt his neck. This is true (he slipped on the stairs yesterday) but that doesn't explain why he didn't set it up at the weekend. My ma's response? "He wasn't carrying the bambino was he?" and seeing me shake my head "Oh good".

His other 'crimes' include:

Going through a phase of buying 'art' on eBay and now my house is full of unhung paintings, some of which are behind the fridge. Every week he's promised that they will be hung up and they are still exactly where they have been for MONTHS!

Not unpacking his suitcase between trips. At the moment I am testing him to see how long it will take before he twigs that the suitcase fairy hasn't unpacked it and taken out his laundry.

Clogging up the TV harddrive with bloody HD wildlife programmes and then getting all twitchy about what I'm recording!

How many times can one person watch Face Off? Rambo? Demolition Man? and other stupid films that have people like Jean Claude Van Damme and Steven Seagal in them that only guys watch?


I got my bank statement this morning and noticed a lot of supermarket purchases. Curious, I added them up and was horrified when I realised that I'd spent £312 last month in my local supermarkets! That doesn't include any cash purchases I may have made or any of the visits the boyf made....I've decided that it's time for me to budget because not budgeting has me going in for a bottle of milk and coming back with £20 worth of groceries that I didn't need before I went in! Anyway...

The bambino is attempting to test my patience by ignoring my requests to behave herself. I know she's only 9 months or so but she understands 'NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!' Right now she's gone out to the hall and suddenly realised that the front door makes it a dead end...Moments ago she was in the kitchen playing with the cat flap left by the previous residents and before that she was standing up watching TV at the TV stand and trying to figure out how to remove the Wii...

The boyf accused me of snoring last night. "I was snoring?"I said in disbelief. "Yeah you were!"he said gleefully. "Well I must have cold then!" I said firmly and he cracked up laughing. Well why else would I be snoring....?

I have to go...the bambino is pulling out one nappy wipe after another and eating them....