I Can't Joke My Way Out of Everything!

It's probably already obvious to anyone that reads this and who has been around when things have gone tits up, but today I really realised that I have a habit of wisecracking when bad things happen. It's my way of braving my way through the world.

Just before I finished work the boss brought us all in. After a few wisecracks from all of us about whether we were in trouble, with a tremble he annouced that he is leaving us. My first thought was 'Is this his idea of some weird f*cked up joke?', my second thought was 'Bastard' and my third thought was 'Jaysus, I'm gutted!'. Everyone's facial expression was set to stun and the next few minutes were some of the most uncomfortable I've experienced. So I took the piss for a bit.

NML:Is it because I came in a few minutes late yesterday?
BOSS: Yes of course it is!
NML: Is it because I nag you all of the time and never shut up? Because if it is, I swear I'll be on my best behavior from now on.
Teammate 1: Are you sick of all of us? (She looks on the brink of tears and we both look down)
Teammate 2: We'll just f*cking blame Teammate 3 when she gets in tomorrow. She'll be dead paranoid!
NML: Well you needn't think I'm speaking to you for the next 3 months! And I'll be coming in late tomorrow!

We all burst out laughing nervously and then I put my head down and felt my eyes fill with tears and I mentally called him every name under the sun. I can't even blame my hormones, illness or my thong being right up my arse or something. I was sad and upset because I really care about my boss.

Only last week and the week before that, and many a time before has he asked me if I am staying in my company and that he needs me on the team and thinks I'm fantastic (well I am...) and now the silly f*cker's gone and handed his notice in! I feel hurt but I know I'm being selfish and underneath it all, I want him to be happy.

For some reason I thought of a woman I knew years ago that I worked with at an old job. One week we were all out at some big company piss up and her boyfriend was saying that she was the most amazing woman he'd ever been with. The next week she came in and he'd dumped her, told her he couldn't bear the sight of her, had met a new woman and that he wanted her out of their home. The next day she got on a plane back to Australia, never to be seen again.

I know I haven't been dumped, but he has pulled the rug from under my well shoed feet. My boss was great. He's been very supportive of me and a delight to work with. He fancies himself something rotten and I always call him metrosexual and try to convince him that he's lost his touch with the ladies. We don't always see eye to eye and sometimes I needed him to be more argumentative and less soft (not with me) but he was one of the best people I worked with. He's not into all of this management shite though and he's following his dream.

The lesson learned today is that you need to do what suits you, not what you think will make other people happy. He is genuinely gutted (I saw tears) and hated leaving us, but he is doing what is best for him. I think when it has come to stuff like work and what I want to do next, I have thought to often of other people and today has been a reality check. And it's a lesson that is applicable to lots of things and I will make sure I'm pursuing my dreams, because if I don't, noone else will.

The Contender is in the Semi Final

I had a nice but short evening with The Contender (TC) last night. Unfortunately he had to head home last night but we had a great time catching up, taking the piss out of each other, laughing and snuggling on the couch after both of our late Saturday nights. Our get together almost didn't happen due to him having to suddenly head back due to some unexpected problems, but he called me and came over. I know that he made an effort and whilst it wasn't what I'd had in mind, I really enjoyed it and appreciated him making the time.

I was asked in last nights comments when TC will graduate from his title and I guess it will be when I feel more certain of what direction this is going in. We've been going along great lately but I think we need to be a bit more solid and I still feel that there is ambiguity about us. Don't get me wrong - I know that TC likes me and I like him. In fact, I think we both like each other a lot, but even though we have been seeing each other for 3 months there does seem to be some skirting of the whole 'are we boyfriend and girlfriend' issue and this is on both sides. We're not teenagers so we don't have to do the whole 'Will you be my girlfriend/boyfriend?' moment, but something needs to shift and until it does, he keeps the name The Contender. Everyone knows when you've slipped into boyfriend/girlfriend mode and I haven't and neither has he.

Lets not forget that there's an ex girlfriend and a home that they are both trying to sell and this poses a stumbling block for him. There will come a time though when with or without the house, he'll need to move our relationship forward. When that time is I'm not sure, but it's not too far away. I'm really pleased that we went slowly and I'm not about to start putting demands on him but I think that I'll be wanting more from him. Slow is great but I don't want to be doing this ambiguous shit for ages. It's hard to admit but I like TC a hell of a lot.

He's great - He's my friend, he makes me laugh till my sides ache and is interested in everything I have to say. He really gets me and doesn't seem to want me to be something I'm not. He doesn't bat an eyelid when the F word slips out and I try to make out that I'm prim and proper, and he sometimes lets out a few of his own swearwords. When I tell him stories of my nights out with the girls he's rolling around laughing with me, not acting like a dick. As an example I told him that when I was out on Saturday night, a friend showed me a picture on her phone of the most ridiculously large willy that I have ever seen. It was so big I could barely speak for 10 minutes! My mouth was full - just joking! Anyway, I told TC the story and he was crying with laughter and didn't feel remotely insecure (he shouldn't do - as you all know I'm not too keen on Bigus Dickus).

Willys aside, he's really clever (although I use way bigger words than him apparently) and he doesn't appear to be threatened by me being clever (I am you know!) or ambitious. We like a lot of the same things and enjoy the differences. He gives great cuddles, snuggles and knows how to make this girl seriously swoon. I fancy the arse off him (he's good looking and very sexy) and he makes me smile a hell of a lot.

I've said a lot of great things but there is a but. No matter how free it appears he is, he isn't. He doesn't have a girlfriend but there is the red tape he needs to sort out with the ex. And as we all know, men are not very good at multi-tasking, hence in the past TC has alluded to the fact that he doesn't feel he'll be able to move on properly until he has sorted out the red tape (sale of house). Why can't I be with a bloke who doesn't have excess baggage? Well I suppose we all have it.....

Something bit me on my knuckle in my sleep last night and I've had terrible itching on both hands all day. I told TC when we were texting a while ago and he took the piss out of me and asked if I'd got fleas and told me he hadn't given them to me (cheeky shit!). I obviously don't have fleas (NML does not do fleas or anything unhygienic!) but I've either been in the vicinity of something I'm allergic to or it's a possible side effect of the loss of steroids from my body.

I had a really unintentionally busty day and even though I was wearing a wraparound short sleeved cardigan over my vest top, and I spent all day pulling my top up to cover my boobs. I was walking through Soho and some pervy man tried to grab at me. I think I gave him a look that I only hope shrivelled his nuts to pistachio size. Anyway I had to go to a big internal meeting and didn't want to sit beside one particular guy because he's got 'titty eyes' (my term for men that can't stop looking at boobs) so I sat in another chair. I held my notepad in front of my chest and tried to discreetly pull my top up so that there wasn't any cleavage on show and nearly gave myself a black eye with a slip of my hand! Jaysus, so much for discretion!

Showgirl

My whole body hurts, but not because of my illness but because of a heavy night of partying. I know that what I will say next will make certain people think that I'm back on the MJ fixation, but I entertained the party (sober I may add) by moonwalking, heeheeing, crotch grabbing etc to Don't Stop Till You Get Enough, Rock With You, Billie Jean, Beat It, Thriller and Bad. I actually remembered a lot of the videos and had everyone in stitches laughing.

I had a few drinks later in the evening and sang on the mic along to LL Cool J's Doin IT and Notorious BIG and R Kelly's F*ckin You Tonight. I think quite a few of the lads were surprised that I knew all of the words and I was in my element showing off and getting the crowd going.

I danced with a guy who I consider to be one of the most gorgeous guys on the planet. It's not just his looks; it's the voice (like sexual chocolate - gruff, deep and...ooh I think I'm feeling flushed!), the way he dresses, dances, surface personality, the whole shebang. He knows that I think he's hot stuff as my friend told him that I refer to him as The Lovely [His Name]...right in front of me at a party several months ago. I remember wanting the ground to open up and swallow me, as I had pretended that I didn't recognise him when I'd seen him earlier that night, so I looked like a right dick.

I still think he's hot stuff but 1) He's nice to look at but a liability to go out with, 2) I actually like The Contender (TC) a lot and 3) I think he's attached and had a kid last year.

However, that didn't stop me from fulfilling a least one fantasy and having a dance with him, and I mean a good bump and grind to a slow tune, and boy can he move. But, despite the moves, I actually didn't even feel a thrill of pleasure from being pressed against him as he gripped my bum and back and gave me what for on the dancefloor. TC has obviously had an effect!

When he was leaving he flirted outrageously with me and I'm sure he alluded to us meeting up.

The Lovely: Hopefully I will see you again really soon? (He is standing behind me with his arm around me and his head resting on my shoulder....)
NML: Oh yeah - I'm sure we'll all be getting together soon what with my birthday coming up next month. (Completely oblivious to the fact that I think he means a little one on one)
The Lovely: So 'we'll' be seeing each other again soon?
NML: Er, er, ...oh, er, yes. (God damn me at times. I got all flustered and felt a slight frisson of attraction)

My friend and I had to put up with a right eyeful all evening as one girl wore a pair of low riser jeans with a high rising thong with socks and high heels. At one point when she sat down, all we could see was ass and thong and my friend and I fell around laughing as we ripped the piss out of her, saying that she should have just left the jeans at home and paraded about in the thong, socks and high heels!

There was a guy at the party who seems to have some sort of fixation with me. We went to a club about a year ago with last nights birthday girl and he stayed beside me like a shadow all evening, so much so that he nearly broke my toe in his eagerness to be at my side and then spent the next few hours apologising every 2 minutes. He's sweet but I'm not into that whole eager-beaver-on-my-arse-like-the-black-shadow type thing, especially when you're not saying anything and just watching me. I've probably scared him off with all of the dance moves now anyway so I guess it pays to be a show off....

All in all it has been a good weekend. I'm feeling miles better than I did mid week and I'm going to crawl off to bed now. I'm supposed to see TC later (I haven't seen him for 2 weeks as he went away) so I need to perk up a bit. If he blows me out, he'll be getting the blankety blank cheque book and pen from me! For all of those who've never watched that cheesy game show, it's my sarcastic way of saying that I'll be blanking him, big style. Hopefully he won't though as things have been going quite well for the last while and I've been patient and not been thinking too much and just going with the flow.

I'm going to be 28 in 4.5 weeks. Jaysus.........I've been 'dating' for 15 years and I'm still fretting over boys/men. I used to think that it would be easier than all this and that I'd be settled by now with a fabulous guy (note that this was when I was a 'youth' and dillusional).I wonder when, if ever will the fretting stop?..........

Faking It and Going Down

I've decided to move away from the sick talk of earlier - I just finished watching the fabulous Nip Tuck and in it, there were 2 issues rearing their head.

1) Faking it
2) Going down (mostly re technique on a woman)

In Nip Tuck tonight, Julie McNamara has been faking it for months and after a sex session, her husband comes out of the bathroom to find her finishing herself off and she reveals that she's been faking it for months.

Personally I'm at that stage in life where I can't be bothered to fake it for anyone. I don't see why I should massage someone's ego and allow him to think that I've got my rocks off when I haven't. If you're in a relationship with someone and faking it consistently, it's dangerous because your partner probably has no idea if you are and how the hell are they going to learn what you like if you keep pretending?

Have I ever faked it? Yes, when I was young and stupid and more concerned with my ego and the elusive Big O. You get this idea that you're supposed to walk away from a sexual experience with a John Wayne walk and a grin like a Cheshire cat from screaming your head off with sexual joy. The reality is that of some these guys I faked it with needed a well lit flight path and an air traffic controller to guide them to my hot spots! But I also recognise the fact that I'm more aware of what I like and don't like now and I have no problem saying so!

I am doing myself and him a disservice if I make out that I've had a way better time than I have. Are there any times when you should fake it? Actually yes. Personally I'm not one to be ridden ragged. If there isn't a hope in hell of me coming and the guy is intent on pumping me until I do, I will fake it. I have no desire for cystitis or a UTI (urinary tract infection) and I am a lover of my sleep! Sometimes you've got to know when to quit. Fortunately it's been a long while since I've had any need to fake it, so I guess I am a 'lucky' woman!

My brother told me he faked it a few years back. He said it was easy to do because he had his 'mac' on and he knew it just wasn't going to happen. She was roaring her head off and writhing in 'ecstasy' (I suggested she may have been faking it too, which he laughed at) and he just wanted to bring it to an end and go home. He claimed he wasn't enjoying it as he got cursed with 'clowns pocket' syndrome.........

Ask a guy if a woman has ever faked it with him and they'll insist no woman ever has. Ask a woman if she's faked it and most have faked it a lot!

Later in the Nip Tuck episode, the rogue Christian suggests to Julie's husband that he spells out the alphabet with his tongue when he goes down on her (???) and the husband tries this 3 times in a row and she still doesn't come! She tells him it's not going to happen to which he insists that he'll keep going until she does!

Going down is heady business (hee hee) and technique and mood is everything. Nobody wants to be licked like a cat lapping up a bowl of milk (Or is that just me?), or bitten or chewed there - I think I speak for both sexes here!

I think where guys have tended to make the mistake when going down on women is assuming that 1) what worked for the last woman will work for her (she could have been faking it) and 2) assuming that as soon as you go down on a woman that she'll enjoy it no matter what the technique. Wrong and er, wrong again. If he's not doing it right, he can literally suck (well more like lick) the life out of you. The worst is when you get a mediocre licking and then he moves up and tries to kiss you! We questioned the lads about this on one of our piss ups and for some reason they think that every woman wants to taste themselves, but ask them if they want to taste their own 'juices' and 9/10 times you get a flat no! Double standards?

I would like to think that a guy isn't licking his way through the alphabet but if I enjoy it, then what the hell. I wouldn't be able to describe a particular way to do it (personally I've never been able to lick myself......) but I like it to be mixed up a little with some hand action thrown in. But if I'm not in the mood (and I'm not all the time) then I'll pass on it. It is not the be all and end all for me.

Now speaking of all the time - Should a guy have a blowjob every time he has sex? I must stress that I am not referring to any situation I am in, but I have heard many a tale of blowjob-mad men. It's not that I think that it's a treat that should be bestowed on a man, but every time?!!! Surely it loses it's spontaneity - Isn't part of getting your kicks not knowing what to expect next? Mix things up a little!

How many times have I heard women refer to their man wanting a BJ when they can't get sex, say because it's the time of the month? Guys, have you ever tried to suck someone's willy with horrible period pains? When I'm all cramped up I want to hug a hot water bottle, not a willy... with my mouth! Personally, my technique will be waaay off if I'm not in the mood and I think that sex in whatever form it comes in should be a two way thing. Half hearted licking and sucking on either side is not my thing!

Technique for blow jobs - Again every guy is different but it shouldn't be done with a lacklustre approach! Doing it with a bit of gusto (as in that you like it a lot, not as in trying to take the head right off) is the right way to go and having some variance. I'm inclined to think that actually sucking on it like a dummy/pacifier isn't the way to go. Am I wrong?

So is it just me, or do other women out there expect a little technique from their guys or do they just leave things to chance? Do guys do this alphabet thing? Are you a guy that's nuts about BJ's? Any hot tips? Questions, questions!

Gosh, I think I have managed to completely forget about my illness now! I'm off to bed, where I hopefully won't be thinking of BJs.........

All Falls Down

The sensation of feeling semi-well could only last so long I guess. This morning I came crashing back to earth with a resounding thud.......

I was sat at my desk when I suddenly felt really hot and my stomach went hollow and cold and my mouth filled with water. I tried to stand but my legs felt too weak and I snatched the bin (so un-NML!). Petrified that I would chuck up in the vicinity of my work colleagues I kept my head down over the bin and forced myself not to throw up and promptly burst into tears. As I cried silently under the table my whole body was gripped in clamminess and as I tried to shift myself, my head felt like lead and my face and neck started to hurt. I was fortunate that hardly anyone was in and sat there quiet as a mouse with the odd tear trickling into the bin. The tears sounded loud to my ears as they were hitting the paper and I still couldn't get up.

Ten minutes or so later I was still there and my boss was still babbling on the phone. Minutes later when I realised that I still too scared to get up, I squeaked out his name. 'NML, did I just hear you call my name? NML? Oh f*ck!'

He was such a sweetie and faffed around like a blue arse fly in panic. He was brilliant and within moments he had someone from first aid there and he was explaining about me just finishing steroids. He tried to make me go home but I'm scared of giving in to this stupid illness and my bodys desperation for steroids so I lay down in the first aid room for a while (read: very cold bare room) with a cup of tea and the first aider for company. It was only later when I thought back to that horrible time when I realised that I waffled on non-stop to the poor woman! She must think I'm a right crackhead. Most people go silent when they're not well, I talk sh*t!

I felt up and down all down with an underlying sense of giddy nausea. One minute I would feel weak, the next I would be fine. I f*cking hate this stupid illness and I hate those bloody steroids.

Being the goons that they are, the boys didn't pay too much attention to me being unwell and ripped the piss out of me. I defended myself with my arms folded and it was only when I noticed my old bosses wandering eye that I realised that the folded arms had pulled my top down a little causing me to show a litte too much cleavage.......

I've been home for a few hours and forced myself to eat something to keep the nausea at bay. I lay down for five minutes and woke up two hours later just in time for Big Brother. I hope I'm not going to be feeling rough as f*ck like this tomorrow - I don't know how much more nausea I can take!

Notoriety in the Sun

The fantastic weather means that I've been able to get the short summer skirts out of the wardrobe. The only problem is wind - not as in farting but as in great big bloody gusts of wind when I'm in the Underground or walking along. There's been a few times today when the public has had a peep at my black ass!

So far my first steroid free day in over a year has actually been ok. I feel a little bit tired and I've had the odd twinge of pain, but nothing that made me think anything bad. Apparently I've been having mood swings since I started weaning off the steroids but that's all side effects and as I pointed out today, I can't be the life and bloody soul all the time! If I'm not wisecracking or giving the lads a hard time or badgering my boss, they get worried. Jaysus, people and their expectations of me!

I'm thinking about going on holiday for a week in the next couple of weeks or so. I've been hunting for deals and it's looking like Dominican Republic or Egypt. I think I'm going to go on my own even though that can only spell trouble on the man front. I went to Antigua for a week at the end of November 2003 and I was pestered morning, noon and night. I think they saw a woman on her own and presumed that I wanted to be hit on constantly. I'd doze off on the sun lounger topless and wake up to find a few men standing over me. 'Hello sweet sistah!' and I'd hastily cover my boobs as I'd suddenly feel very exposed.

I became notorious at the hotel and it made me very uncomfortable. A lot of the women, most of them in their 40s and 50s, seemed to think I wanted their husbands. Yes, NMLs taste had suddenly taken a dive and I wanted a man old enough to be my father in tight Speedos that made my eyes water, with his pubes hanging down the side.......

I am a bitch though and when the silly cows started treating me like a predator for just being there, I went out of my way to be super friendly and smiled and waved to their men. I figured they were going to be horrible to me anyway so I might as well give them a good reason to be!

I managed to get a few irritating stalkers but my worst was a lawyer from Dominican Republic that refused to accept that I wouldn't piss on him if he was on fire! I'll make polite chat with most people, but when I insist that I'm not interested and that I want to be on my own and you refuse to listen, the claws come out.

On my last night I got chatted up by a man old enough to be my grandad. I had been having my dinner on my own and he came over and introduced himself and sat himself down (as you do!) He was very smartly dressed and rather distinguished and initially well behaved. He asked me about my holiday and said that he'd heard of this 'lady from London garnering a lot of attention' during his 3 day visit. I think the wine must have loosened my tongue and I ended up telling him all about the guys that I had encountered and really laid it on about the annoying lawyer. He asked what his name was and I told him, not thinking anything of it and then I asked what he was doing in Antigua. He was the Secretary of State (or Secretary of something or other) of Dominican Republic and was on a 3 day conference which had a number of lawyers in attendance........

It seems he knew my 'irritating lawyer' very well and was going to be giving him a severe talking to! I was mort-i-fied but also found it hilariously funny. He asked me out, which I declined and he even invited me to come and visit, which I also declined. I also found that hilariously funny too.......

So here I am again planning another solo adventure. Contrary to what anyone may think, I like holidays on my own because I can eat, sleep, read, listen to music, sightsee etc and I'm only answerable to myself. I don't go on holiday on my own to meet predators! There's a lot to be said for solo holidays and whilst I do enjoy holidays with other people, I do love having some time out for myself. My only reservation is that I'd like to have lost a little of the steroid tummy before I go away. It's only a little tummy but when you had a flat stomach for 27 years you get self conscious.

I want to keep my bum though!

Feasting On Other Peoples 'Heartache'

I had a nice time at the Bar Mitzvah celebration last night although everybody asked me questions about the ex fiance as they were all people that I used to see when I was with him. Why can't people get over the fact that you've broken up with someone? Why can people not comprehend that I am a strong person that has moved on? People are so eager for drama! They seemed surprised that I wasn't looking all heartbroken, jacked up and mashed up. Why the f*ck should I be any of these things?

It's amazing how people want to live the dream that's actually your old nightmare. People only see what they want to see. They have no idea what it is like to be me or him and they certainly don't know what it was like in our relationship. It seems that we were loves young dream, a golden couple. It seems that there were a lot more people devastated by the break up than I was....

Well if we were a 'golden couple' it was the 'public persona'. My ex was very much an 'image' man and no matter how much of a pain in the arse he was, as soon as we were around people he was the doting boyfriend. I'm crap at pretending which used to drive him insane. It's not that I want to wash my dirty laundry in public, but I'll be damned if I allow you to act like an arsehole behind closed doors and then hug me when the friends arrive!

I was made to feel like I'd shattered peoples illusions last night. Jaysus, if they want me to tell them that he had poor aim when he went for a wee, what way his sh*t stank or get into the nitty-gritty's about how he was almost anal about how he dressed and the house, his obsession with the blinds being closed the right way, his obnoxious put downs, his over-inflated view of himself where everyone is skewed and he is perfect on his perch, his inability to prioritise sport over his private life, his two-facedness, how he felt an overwhelming need to try to force out my drive, ambition and confidence, then I could really shatter the illusion for them! I don't say these things out of annoyance towards him, I say it out of annoyance towards these vultures.

We're all human and have a keen interest in what's going on in each others lives (I have a blog after all....) but I don't believe in feasting on the carcass of people's relationship drama's. These people didn't want to give support or ask about me - these people wanted to see some discomfort. These people wanted me to give them the 'gory' details because it seems that they haven't had the chance to do this to my ex. Most people haven't seen him since we broke up and they're all 'his crowd'. I would never come out with some of the BS that I heard last night. It's insensitive and most of all unnecessary...

Vulture 1: So is there any chance for you and him?
NML: No there isn't.
Vulture 1: You're not going to get back together with him?
NML: Er, no.....

V2: He's not coming tonight.
NML: OK
V2: NML, you know he's not coming tonight. He had to cancel as he has some problems with his brother.
NML: OK (Looking away bored and uninterested)
V2: Can you believe he's not coming tonight?
NML: Yes I can.....

V3: I thought you two had reconciled.
NML: I must have fallen asleep for that one!
V3: So you're not back together then?
NML: You do know we've been broken up for 2 years?
V3: Yes, but....
NML: But nothing. We're over. If I can get over it, you can.
V3: But you were so lovely together. You're looking gorgeous by the way. He won't know what he's missing... (Gives me a wink)
NML: Well I certainly know what I'm not missing.....

V4: Is 'Ex Fiance' with you?
NML: Hello! - I saw you last year and we'd been broken up a year. You do know we are broken up don't you?
V4: Yes but I haven't seen you for ages and I thought you may have got back together.

Jaysus.........

V5: So what do you do now that you've broken up with 'Ex Fiance'?
NML: I have a life.......

V6: Do you still love 'Ex Fiance'?
NML: Truthfully no - but I'm lucky that I don't because with the amount of people asking me questions about him I could have been in tears.......

V7: You're OK....you're erm, looking really great. I just thought, you know, what with..
NML: My illness? (Knowing full well that's not what they meant)
V7: Huh? Illness? I meant, you know, what with Ex-Fiance and everything

What was very clear is that not one of these superficial vultures are my friend and that's why I won't be losing any sleep over them. Bo-o-o-thered about them anyway.......

The Contender (TC) is back from his break and he emailed and phoned today which means that so far we are continuing on a good roll. We filled each other in on our lives for the past week and he took the piss out of me for not wanting to lose my bumper booty now that I have officially finished the steroids. Oh yes, did I not mention that? I took my last steroid today and touch wood, I will not feel rough as a badgers arse and can for the first time in 3 years get back to normal. I'm excited, nervous and scared shitless. I've felt happy and energetic for the past couple of days and as I danced with the kids last night feeling carefree (I must point out that one of them was moonwalking and breakdancing for me - I swear I didn't ask him to!) I said a secret prayer that this really is the end for me.

I was offered a line of coke by one of the vultures last night (they obviously think I need it what with my obvious heartbreak...) and I thought to myself: You have no idea what it's like to think that you're going to have everything that you take for granted about being young taken away from you. If you'd been through what I have with this illness you'd think twice about snorting that shit up your nose to get your kicks.

I'll get my kicks from the simpler things in life thanks very much.

Don't Touch Me!

Oh what a weekend so far! Spent my first day back at work yesterday in training and actually felt ok for the whole day - so much so that I went to do some shopping after work. The plan was to buy a Bar Mitzvah present but I left with 3 pairs of shoes and some DVDs. Whoops....

Hours later I was strutting into a bar wearing one of the new pairs of shoes in my denim mini (not tarty though). Within a fraction of a second of being at the bar I was pounced on by two predators, one of which was wearing a white suit and definitely no deodorant. In fact, I don't think his pits had seen soap and water..ever. As he tried to chat me up and I replied with disinterest, I tried not to show that I was about to pass out. Finally I got the drinks and turned to walk away he grabbed me by my arm.

Mr Stinky: Aren't you even going to say goodbye? I thought we were having such a nice chat and there you are just walking away from me?
NML: (Struggling not to choke on BO and looking at his hand on her arm disdainfully) OK, bye.

We had a great time laughing and dancing and of course fending off the harbour sharks. One such harbour shark took his chances and started pushing up on me to dance. The place was so crowded and I was also aware that I was being watched by a few guys and didn't want to look like a bitch (for once) so I just looked scared shitless in the hope that he would piss off. No, instead he put his arm around my waist and started trying to screw me through my clothes (grind me).

Letch: You are so beautiful I just had to dance with you.
NML: Can you get off me please?
Letch: I love you.
NML: What?! (Is he crazy?)
Letch: I love you. (I try to edge back but the other harbour sharks are circling and the place is now rammed. I look at those two cows I call friends and they are pissing themselves laughing)
NML: Did you just say you love me?
Letch: Yes! (Sees my frightened look) Er, I mean you're beautiful.
NML: Thanks, but seriously, get off me! I'm not comfortable with strange men grinding me. If you press any harder against me I'll have to get the condoms out!

He stands back and that's when I notice that on top of his harsh cigarette breath, he has tiny teeth - like a babys! He tries to take advantage of my hesitation and moves back towards me to go in for the kill.

I'm too quick for him and quickly grab the arm of the nearest harbour shark (HB).
NML: Talk to me. Now!
HB: What did you just say?
NML: I said talk to me! You can babble for all I care, but just look like you're talking to me!
HB: Ohhhh!
Letch: Aren't you going to dance with me again?
NML: I didn't dance with you in the first place! Can't you see I'm talking to someone?
HB: Bla, bla, bla, bla...that guy is a f*cking weirdo!
NML: (I crack up laughing and notice the girls still laughing) You see my friend in the green dress? She's jealous that you wouldn't dance with her.
Letch moves at the speed of light to my friend and HB and I try not to laugh. Green Dress looks horrified and tells him to get lost.
Letch: You lied to me!
NML: Yes I know but watching you ask her made me laugh! I'm sorry - I know that was naughty.
Letch: Will you dance with me?
HB: Just tell him where to go! (He hisses in my ear)
NML: No I don't want to dance but thanks for the er.... offer. (Thankfully he leaves)

HB lurks for a while and we actually had a nice chat but I thank him for his help and stick to my girls like glue. As we walk out of the bar later I bump into Letch.

Letch: Why wouldn't you dance with me?
NML: I have a boyfriend.
Letch: Do you really have a boyfriend? Is that really why you wouldn't dance with me?
NML: Do you want the real story or the fake story?
Letch: The real story.
NML: I don't want to dance with you because I don't want to dance with you. There is no boyfriend.
Letch: OK!

Today was a scorcher and I spent most of the day at the Bar Mitzvah service followed by the lunch. Jaysus I thought I was going to pass out - the new shoes made my legs look great in the skirt, but the heat and nausea brought on by an impromptu early period brought on by my weaning off the steroids nearly killed me! After the lunch I chatted away to the 13 year old boys who seemed to think I was cool and one of them piped up 'Are you Jays au pair?'. Jay (Bar Mitzvah boy) tried not to laugh and I replied 'No. Not all au pairs are black you know!' and all of the boys pissed themselves laughing! Looking flustered and embarrassed he said 'Er, er, no that's not what I meant'. 'Course you didn't love!' I cooed to him and winked at the boys and they all snickered. Yeah I'm a meanie.

I zoomed home and raced down to Clapham Common to hang with my brother and friends with a whopping picnic basket full of booze and food. We sang (or should I say rapped) along to old Snoop Dogg songs and had quite a few people watching. There were a few wisecracks about my bro and I starting our own rap version of The Carpenters........

I feel the best that I've felt in over a week. Fingers crossed.........

Couldn't finish a post with my bro in it without telling you all another ridiculous tale from my bro. He met Jodie Kidd (model/ex model- who cares?) at one of his la la land do's.

Bro: Can I get a photo with you?
Jodie: Yes of course. (Bro attempts to put arm around her for nice photo)
Jodie: Don't touch me! (Screeches at my bro)
Bro: Er, ok!

He still has the picture in his phone to remind him of crazy 'celebrities'!

Oh and I've completed my recent task at Big Blogger - I hope that it represents the end of my Michael Jackson fixation.......

Hee Hee Sob Sob

Well I'm alive and semi-well and I haven't got sick of my own company yet. I feel a little disconcerted by the fact that I haven't stepped outside of my flat today and I haven't spoken to anybody since this afternoon. It was only when I nearly ruptured myself by sitting on my mobile that I realised that the battery had died. There was me thinking that I was going to collapse and be discovered in 3 weeks being savaged by Alsatians.......(Yes I know I don't own a dog and I'm not sure where they would come from or how they would get in the flat, but..oh pooh pooh)

My day has passed in a blur of music videos, singing, dancing (or should I say shuffling) on the sofa and a sneaky moonwalk into the kitchen. I think my steroid comedown has been accompanied with an MJ fixation and I am a little worried. Fortunately they had a Best of Destiny's Child followed by a Best of 5o Cent, so I didn't hee hee as much. Unless you count when I sang along to Justin Timberlakes Like I love You (swoons on sofa).

I decided it was time for me to get my arse back to work when I found myself thumping on the window and then shouting like a fisherwoman at one of the kids that lives below. He was playing football by himself (Billy No Mates) in the very small car park below and hit the window. I let it slide the first time, but when he had done it 5 or 6 times he pissed me off because I had to get up off the sofa. As soon as I appeared at the window, he dropped the ball and mouthed sorry. Within seconds of me turning my back, the ball hit the window again, so I thumped the window and then cursed because my body can't take any knocks at the moment. As I walked away again the ball came back again. I opened the window.

Unless you want me to come down there and show you what I can do to a ball, I suggest you stop kicking it at my window. Oh and kicking the ball high is a skill that will be of no use to you if you actually want to get the ball IN a goal!

I slammed the window and went to head back to the sofaw and then decided to make myself some tea. I turned a little too quickly and rammed my bum cheek into the drawer handle. My skin is sore from these stupid steroids and I can honestly say that my bum felt like someone had put me over their knee and given my arse serious hiding.

That reminded me of some people in the office talking about dominatrixes and whips and chains a while back. I know it's different strokes (literally) for different folks, but I don't get that whole pleasure pain thing. I know of a few people that say that they don't mind a bit of rough and tumble and a few slaps on the arse. I'm black and most black people I know (including myself) got their bums beat for being naughty when they were kids, so the prospect of somebody giving me a few lashings for a bit of 'fun' is like a return to childhood memories that I'd rather not have!
I'm feeling OK. My body hurts but the dizziness wasn't as bad today. I did get chest pains which was a bit scary, my stomach is a bit upset, my vision is still blurry and my skin feels sore and strange. I have 4 more days of tablet taking and then I'm on my own. I'm secretly scared shitless that I'll end up ill and outwardly I'm acting like nothings wrong. My bravado slipped for a moment when starving, I made my dinner and sat down to eat it. Less than half way through I got a cold feeling in my tummy and felt like my stomach was in my throat so that was the end of my dinner. I felt my eyes well up with frustration and hid under the duvet for a few minutes.....

I'm going back to work tomorrow (I think) as I have a training session that I'd love to miss but shouldn't. It will be a bit weird venturing into the outside world and I hope I hold up OK. I'll miss the sofa, the dancing on the sofa and my attempts to outsing Beyonce & Justin Timberlake.

I have put up the pages for my other site - I'm still testing it and screaming fuck at my laptop every once in a while (ok very frequently) and if any of you want to pop over and check it out (okay run like the m*therf*cking wind and check it out) and let me know your thoughts, it'd be much appreciated. I won't go into any explanations and leave anyone who goes to it to figure it out for themself (bit cloak and dagger eh?) Don't be too harsh on me, I'm sick ;-) Hee hee. Sharmon...(grabs crotch with one hand and pulls hat down, twirls and then moonwalks to bed - alone in case anyone has actually mistaken me for MJ!)

The Great Unwashed - Wash yourself, before you wreck yourself!

I read an article in The Evening Standard (I purchased it just after 11.15am which makes me question that validity of the name) about people needing to wash more on the tube. You don't say! I live in the city of the great unwashed. I have been unfortunate enough to be trapped in the stench of B.O, poo, wee, chip fat, stale take-away, rabbit hutch, cheesy-wotsits and all sorts, plus I have even watched a jackass vomit all over someone's bald head! My ma bred into all of us that you don't leave home without bathing. Standard. That means a shower or a bath, not a perfunctory wash with a wash cloth over the sink. I now face a long summer with the stinkies of London and I could almost weep at the thought. This of course got me thinking.....

7 Things That Upset Me About Personal Hygiene on The Tube

1. Wipe your arses. So you went for a shit before you got on the tube. Do I need to know about it? If you had wiped your arse properly, I wouldn't be overwhelmed with the stench of pure shit. You're a grown man (sorry guys but it does tend to be you lot) and the fact that you're an adult and have the arse-wiping capabilities of a 2 year old is worrying. The fact that you let your trousers hang below the crack of your arse so that we can see this, is truly horrifying.

2. When I've eaten something that leaves behind a taste or smell, I know about it. I brush my teeth, floss, use a tongue scraper, chew some gum. Why can't everyone do this? Why do I have to have the foul stench of someone's breath right in my face till I feel like chucking up my non-existent breakfast? Why aren't these people knocked out by their own foul breath?

3. How disturbed am I when I see people pick their nose and wipe it on the arm rest of the tube seat, or even worse, the fabric? What if someone put's their arm on it? What if I am the unsuspecting person and sit in one my lovely skirts, only to be taking someone's snot with me when I get up? Use a tissue. Wait till you get off the tube.

4. Coughing without covering your mouth is bad manners. Showering everyone in the vicinity with the remnants of your throat is distinctly unpleasant. I don't want to share some strangers bodily fluids and I don't want to catch anything.

5. When I sit in the seats on the tube and a man stands in front of me, it normally puts his crotch or arse at eye level. Now there's no escaping this and fortunately I'm not a sick fiend eyeing crotches all through my train journey. I have however looked up and had the horror of watching someone dig their bum. I don't mean scratch. I mean use their finger in such a way, it must be penetration. And lets not forget the adjusters - guys adjusting their boxers/y-fronts/underpants/ladies thong. Not being funny, but if you have to touch your crotch several times in a 15 minute journey, you might want to see a doctor about thrush (yeast infection) or whatever it is that's a magnet for your fingers.

6. Whatever you had for dinner last night, do I have to smell it? Chip (fries) fat, Indian/Chinese takeaway, fried egg, bloody hell. I'm delighted that you enjoyed the meal, but haven't you heard of Febreeze? Didn't you open a window when you were using a deep fat fryer to cook your very unhealthy meal? Didn't you put on fresh smelling clothes before you left the house? I could get over these smells in the evening, but smelling last nights takeaway at 8am is nauseating.

7. Farting on the tube and choking out a carriage is horrible. When someone chooses to let one rip, it's never one that smells but disappears quickly. It's rancid, eggy, rotten guts that us Tube passengers get! What really gets me is when the offended tries to pretend it's not them. I laugh at the people who aren't as rude as me and suffer it out. I actually cover my face and show my distaste!

**************
I rolled over when the alarm went off this morning and as the dizziness washed over me, I thought 'F*ck it, I'm going back to sleep' and then thought 'F*ck, I've got a meeting at 11'. I dragged myself out of bed, showered, dressed and tried not to get depressed at the sight of the poxy rain outside. The thought that I could wear my FMB's to work cheered me though....

By 9.10am I had been informed that my agency meeting had actually been reschedule. Sweet baby Jesus and the orphans. F*ck, sh*t, wank, mutherf*cker, arse and feck. I caught up on my emails, sorted out some urgent client stuff, had a meeting with the boss and was fast asleep on the sofa just after midday.

As I walked home, some schoolboys were pointing over at me. I looked down at myself to make sure that I hadn't gone to work in my slippers or my tits weren't hanging out, but for once I hadn't let myself down. 'Whassup shorty?' one of them called out to me. Fortunately I realised that he wasn't calling me a short arse but that he was using his youth lingo for calling me cute. Fortunately for them, for once NML was too tired for a smarty pants retort and just smiled weakly at them. 'I could really give her one! Oh...yeah!' I heard one of them say with a groan. 'With what? I'd eat you up and spit you back out for breakfast you cheeky shit!' Evidently NML wasn't too tired for the smarty pants retort.......

I realised that I must be quite unwell, when whilst watching the best of Michael Jackson videos, not only did I know all the words to Thriller but I started doing the moves under the duvet on the sofa. Realised that I had overdone it when I tried to shuffle across the sofa and clap and my arms hurt from the steroids. Bloody steroids ruining my MJ moves........

Undercover Girl

Well I have spent all day at home and haven't got sick of my own company. I woke up feeling like shite this morning with my whole body hurting and I thought 'Fuck it, I'm going back to sleep!' and then lay their in a semi-sleeping state watching BBC News (Jaysus I'm already bored with the whole MJ thing) followed by last nights Big Brother and then I finally fell asleep until I woke up to phone in sick to work.

I must admit an awful thought that went through my mind last night when I thought of the possibility that MJ may be found guilty:

Oh no! If he's found guilty I won't be able to moonwalk and hee hee for my party piece anymore. I won't be able to play my Best of MJ CD anymore. Bloody hell........

Yeah, yeah! I know that was a bit selfish.....

I spoke to The Contender (TC) before he headed off on his mini-holiday. He took the piss out of me for staying home and having nothing on him, I took the piss out out of him for falling asleep when we went to the cinema. Hopefully when he gets back, we can continue with our recent momentum.

I'm sure I mentioned a few weeks back that I intend to expand my mini world of NML and have another site so I used my idle time to faff around with it. I am close to being done and naturally I will advise when it's up. Nice and vague eh?

I feel ok-ish. I decreased my dosage again, which means that I have 6 days left to go and then it's freedom and the possibility that my steroid induced booty may disappear. I'm in general pain (started having chest pains on the phone to TC and had to cover it up) but not being at work has helped. Stress just makes me feel worse and the whiff of work shite just adds to my general feeling of steroid crappiness. Anyway.......

I discovered that I can be a bit of a curtain twitcher in the late afternoon. I'd been half heartedly watching The Dark Crystal(the first thing I ever watched on video and the source of mine and the bro's fascination with the words 'gelfling' and 'stexy') when I heard shouting outside. I ignored it for the first few minutes but it got louder and louder and curiosity got the better of me. I looked out the bleedin window and there must have been about 40 kids watching an argument followed by some fisticuffs taking place. Realising that I had ringside seat, I clambered onto my cabinet and made myself comfy.

Now I live on Maida Vale which is considered to be quite posh, yet I had to watch about 5 white kids and the rest an even mix of black and Asian, taunt and make pathetic attempts at starting a fight. It's no wonder half the nation is petrified of 'youths' when they gather en masse and shout so loud! I'm surprised they didn't hear them in the ladies shoe department in Selfridges (about 15 minutes away). Then the stupid 98 bus pulled up and obscured my view for a good five minutes and I had to twist my head to see what was going on (I think some do-gooder got off the bus to try and break it up).

At this stage I'm now on my knees on top of the cabinet and watching these kids shouting their heads off and pushing each other apart in their little groups. The bus has now gone and the 'hard' girls are trying to drag the 'hard' guys away (read: flirting) when the cops pulled up. I watched some of them scurry away and others remain behind defiant and then it occurred to me that it appeared that some of the 'youths' were watching me. That's when I looked down at myself and took in my appearance.

NML was on her knees (not all fours for the smart arses) in bright blue lacy little shorts and a little white vest.... I guess I had better not go for that job in the FBI or MI5. I don't do 'undercover' operations very well....

Spit It Out!

Male Best Friend insists that he wants us to be the best of friends, yet he seems to want us to ignore major parts of each others lives - his girlfriend, and my..well The Contender (TC). I found myself laughing at his uncomfortableness this morning when he telephoned me to impart with some information...

MBF: So, I thought I'd let you know that I'm not going to be around for 2 weeks.
NML: Really? You off on holiday somewhere?
MBF: Well yeah, but only for a week. The rest of the time I'll be sorting stuff out with the flat (He brought a flat a while ago. He rambles on and I become suspicious when he stutters a couple of times)
NML: Oh that's good - It'll be nice for you to have some time off. You must be dying to get away.
MBF: Oh yeah, but it's just a holiday. For seven days. No big deal. I'll be doing lots of stuff with the flat so I can move in.
NML: So........who are you going with?
MBF: (Silence for a very uncomfortable 10 seconds or so)
NML: Hello!
MBF: (Still silence)
NML: You're going away with her, aren't you?
MBF: Er, er, er, yeah. But it's no big deal. None of the other guys were around or had money to go away at the same time as me. It's not a big deal. Don't go thinking it's more than what it is.
NML: Gosh MBF! You're girlfriend is one lucky, lucky girl! If only she knew how many people were in front of her for this holiday! There's no need for you to sound so sketchy. She's your girlfriend - couples go on holiday all the time. I knew the moment you started stuttering that you were 'hiding' something. I bet you've known about this for a while but thought it was clever to leave telling me to the last minute.
MBF: Well I know I'd be hurt if you told me you were going on holiday with some guy.
NML: Well I'm not hurt so get a grip on yourself. It really doesn't bother me and I hope you have a lovely time.

I had lunch with him and I mentioned that I was still seeing someone and he got up to storm off in a huff. I hate being asked questions about my weekend and giving weird answers because he won't acknowledge TC. He doesn't need to talk about TC but he needs to accept the fact that I'm with him. It's not just today that I've said this to him - I've tried to tackle it on several occasions.

He said that I seem to be making a point of telling him how happy I am and that he's miserable. It's not a point, I am happy. And as for miserable! Miserable people don't book a week long holiday with their girlfriend!

One of my male colleagues commented that when I talk about 'my guy' (TC) that I smile, albeit not quite as much as when we first got together when I grinned like a Cheshire cat. Smelling an opportunity to be a smarty pants:

'Well you know how it is. You grin like a Cheshire cat when you first meet them and then you really get to know them and the smiling stops!'

I was blatantly taking the piss but all of male colleagues made a big song and dance about it and I had to tell them to shut the f*ck up after a while. Jaysus, you can't make a wisecrack these days! I left work early because I felt rough as a badgers arse.

Today was probably my lowest point since decreasing the dosage of the steroids. Whilst it's not the worst way for me to feel, my whole body is aching and covered in sore spots, I've got itchy patches, a stomach that seems to be doing somersaults, some chest pain and a weird ear ache. Oh and I forgot blurred vision!

Worried about my poor eyes I popped into bloody Vision Express on Oxford Street and ended up being there for 90 minutes. The shame of it but I actually fell asleep for about 30 minutes in the waiting room! I'm not going blind but I do need glasses for driving (need a license) and extended periods of reading/TV/PC. The blurred vision is just a side effect. Surprise, surprise.....

Michael Jackson is not guilty! I didn't think he was, I just think he's very thick. What else can you be when you venture down this road, not once, but twice!?! I hope he's learnt a very valuable lesson from this and the next time a kiddie-wink asks him for a sleep over, he'll tell them no and to go hang with some kids their own age.

MJ I'm pleased for you, but I have 3 pieces of advice for you:

1) Step away from the kids (unless they're your own) and learn how to hang with adults. We're not that bad and whatever you do with us, we won't end up calling you a paedo. It's not cool to share a bed with kids that aren't your own no matter how rich you are.
2) Stop being so bloody naive. Why would someone who has already been accused by someone else chance their arm and put themselves in the same situation all over again?
3) Whoever that surgeon was that you claim to have had your 'one' bit of surgery from to sort your nose out so that you could sing and breathe earlier, you need to sue them. They played a very bad joke on you and now you look like a white man with strange facial features (I think you may have started out trying to look Liz Taylor or Diana Ross - difficult to tell now that you just look mashed up).

Still Learning

Well I've entered the Big Blogger house and apparently I'm strutting around semi-naked, but probably the most disturbing thing is that my picture is of white woman in a pair of FMB's (F*ck Me Boots)! Have I had a Michael Jackson moment since entering the house? Did I go a bit nuts with the toilet bleach?

It's been a bloody good weekend. I started it by going on an impromptu piss up session with B. After spending most of Friday feeling ill from the steroid come-down, I perked up just in time to go out. B and I went through a bottle of wine over dinner, then headed into a bar and polished off another one. Naturally the evening didn't pass without ridiculous males entering the picture. Why are there so many cheesy men?

B and I sat at the end of a table which had about 5 guys at the other end. I did notice them give us the eye when we came in, but it took about a half hour before they made their move. One of them actually pushed their mobile phone across the table to us and when we picked it up, it was on 'Add Contact'. Very Parmesan moment....

Feeling a bit tipsy, I went into his text message inbox where there was a message from Nicola saying that she thought that 'it' needed to be disinfected. I replied to the text with 'It's starting to feel really itchy' and B and I fell around laughing. The text wouldn't go through the first few times, but we had far more fun seeing his face when he went into his phone and saw what I'd written! He still sent the phone back over to get the number so I put in a contact under the name of 'Madame Strap-On'....

I got talking to two guys from Northern Ireland for a while and I admit that aided by the wine, I flirted outrageously with one of them. He looked like a cross between Trey from The OC and Jake from Melrose Place. I didn't want anything to happen with him, I just felt like being a little naughty!

The funniest part of the evening was realising that we were being watched by two predators. B and I could see them plotting their moves and we giggled drunkenly to ourselves. It took less than 5 minutes to come over and they probably regretted it very quickly. Predator 1 did most of the talking and came out with a cheesy line and tried to get us to feel grateful for the chat up. He was all dolled up in his work suit and B and I took the piss out of his tie. Predator 2 hung in the background, watching Predator 1 do all the hard work and make a fool out of himself. A moment like that signals an opportunity for NML! I proceeded to take the piss out of him for dumping his friend in it and told him that we'd seen them coming from a mile off. He didn't like that very much and had a moan about me pointing it out. I think he thought I was being cocky, but I wasn't - I was stating factual observations and what he didn't like was that he was as transparent as glass and I pointed it out. Fortunately The Contender (TC) chose that moment to call and I was saved by the bell. When The Predator's went to the toilet, B and I made our drunken exit.

Last night was spent with TC and we had yet another lovely evening. I cooked dinner (I do a mean shepherd's pie) and chilled for a while before heading off to the cinema to watch Sin City. I was a bit caught off guard by some of the violence so I snuggled into him. When my neck started to ache, I moved and was very pleased when TC leaned his head on me. It slipped down my face a couple of times and I admit I felt suspicious but it took a few minutes for me to twig that he had nodded off a couple of times. I pinched his nipple and that seemed to have his attention!

I must be getting used to TC because normally I do sleep but wake easily when he stays. Last night I slept really deeply even with TC's snores which have become a running joke! As we lay together in bed, I felt happy and content. I wasn't thinking too far ahead, I was just enjoying 'us'. We couldn't lie in today because he has someone coming around to view the house (TC is trying to sell the house he shared with the ex of 8 years) and I probably won't see him now until over a weeks time because he is going away for a few days on a short holiday. Lets hope that when he gets back that we maintain the momentum that we have gained recently.

I'm glad that I have kept things going with TC. Now almost 3 months on I have realised that whilst the whole thing isn't ideal, going slow is the best thing that could have happened to me. It's taken being with TC to realise that I have gone way too fast in the past so no matter what happens, I've grown to understand myself more which can only help to protect me from future mistakes. And with the type of guy that I keep meeting on my night out's, I think I need all of the protection I can get!

When Bad Dates Go...Uh...Bad

Every time I go out I end up talking to men, and sometimes I have rather foolishly ended up parting with my number. As I think about the possibilities of trying to go out on a date despite having The Contender in my life, I can't help but think of some of the 'jokers' that I have encountered. My friends think it's funny and that I am lucky, but I don't think I am. I seem to meet men that approach me in the wrong manner or turn out to be a pain in the arse, but very few men that represent half of what I would want from a mate. One friend thinks I'm picky, but she may not be picky enough. If I am to spend what is supposed to be the rest of my life with my future husband and bear children with him, it might be an idea for me to extend a little quality control into my relationships, and encounters with men.

There a lot of stories to tell but the four dates I'm about to describe are legendary amongst my friends: Mr Persistent, The Chancer, Babyfather, and The Blinker. With the exception of the last, the other men represent the kind of men that many women I know encounter or date.

When I first encountered Mr Persistent I had recently broken up with Mr Brownsuit/Ex-Fiance, and felt quite raw. He bombarded me with texts and phonecalls after eliciting my number under false pretexts, and I felt so exhausted by it all after a few days that I told him straight that I wasn't interested and it was too soon. He seemed to take it quite well, and in all honesty, I forgot about him. Unfortunately I bumped into him at a party a few months later, and he quickly bulldozed his way back into my consciousness. He actually said to me when I was leaving the party, "Miss you already...", with a cat that got the cream smirk, while my friends made vomit sounds! The calls and texts started again, but a guilty conscience and the fact that everybody persuaded me to just go on a date, had me agreeing to meet him for dinner.

Within ten minutes of the date, he was talking to me as if I was his girlfriend, within half an hour he had asked me about the possibilities of me moving to Trinidad with him, and by the end of the hour he had talked about marriage and me bearing his children. I veered between feeling claustrophobic and on the verge of hysterical laughter. His lines were so smooth he could have rubbed them on my legs like baby oil. It's just a shame they reeked of bullshit! When we went for drinks he glared at every man that glanced in my direction and then took every opportunity possible to ram himself against me tight on the dancefloor.

When we left, he grabbed me a vice-grip (bear hug), and rammed his tongue down my throat and slobbered all over my face, whilst moaning and groaning in delight. When I finally managed to get him off me I was rendered silent, a miracle as anybody who knows me will tell you! My silence was greeted with, "Isn't it amazing when what happens between two people feels so good that they can't say anything?" He then tried to push me into a dark doorway for another 'encounter', but I was prepared for him and dodged him, and made a run for the night bus.

I have never felt so violated. Not only did I have to put up with his verbal diarrhoea all evening, his leering eyes, and possessively pressed against me on the dancefloor behaviour, but he chose to treat me like a juvenile after a night of underage boozing in the local field. My first kiss following my break up with the ex-fiance, and the first time I had kissed a different man in two years was absolutely hideous. A slobbering dog could kiss with more finesse! That was the last time I saw him, and I stopped taking his calls.

The Chancer thankfully never made it to a date, but he did manage to make an impact. I like and own designer clothes, but I'm not one for wearing clothes with big logos, or a label from head to foot. This guy was wearing a Gucci top, trousers and shoes, whilst carrying a Louis Vuitton wallet, with a gap in his teeth that you could wedge my shoe heel in. He lurked around our table with his friend, and pushed his way into a conversation. My friend and I had a laugh and giggle, and he bought us a drink, but there was no flirtation. When he asked for my number he got a flat out 'No!' When I finished a call to a friend, he asked to see my phone and dialled his number! He called and text after that night, but I dodged his requests for a date, and eventually forgot about this one too. Until I bumped into him at a club.

I knew it was him because he was wearing his 'going out' outfit again. I pretended not to recognise him, but he was quickly over leering and asking me out for a date again, whilst he was still holding the hand of the girl that he was already out with! I was so disgusted, and told him where he could go, and did he intend to invite her along on the date too! He actually had the balls to pretend that he wasn't out with her. That was the last time I saw him, but it does give a whole new meaning to, 'Mind the gap'........

My date drama with The Babyfather unfolded when I went to Antigua in November 2003, where I had a lovely solo week getting my groove back without the aid of a man. I met men constantly during my week away, and did go out with the entertainments manager of the hotel for the evening. He seemed nice, and told me that he was going to be my friend, and that he appreciated the plight of the single woman trying to have a peaceful week in the sun. Turns out that he was Babyfather, just as keen as the others, and with a crazy babymama thrown in for good measure!

We had a lovely evening, and had even ventured out of the hotel to the casino downtown. We were laughing and chatting, but I'm no fool and it became apparent that he was just waiting for the right moment to strike. Whilst we were walking back in the lovely balmy air at 2am to get a cab, a car pulled up and he went to it as he appeared to recognise the woman. When the conversation lasted for more than a minute, I waited patiently on the corner, and away from them so that he knew to get his bum in gear. In the meantime, as if reminding me of the 'stalkers' back at the hotel, I seemed to have every stray dog in town lingering around me. When the car finally pulled away, he returned to my side looking apologetic but offered no explanation, which was fine with me.

We managed to walk about ten metres when the car reappeared, and looking harassed he approached it. Within seconds I could hear raised voices, and as I turned to look, I heard her commenting Ricki Lake style that she's his babymama, and that what does he think he's doing being out with me. Apparently her spies had told her that he was out with me and she'd come hunting me down. They continued to argue and I didn't even catch half of what she said but the hand was circling round with the pointed finger aimed at me 'Ricki' style, and all of a sudden the dogs that had initially seemed annoying seemed like welcome companions. So I left, because I could, and because it was my holiday, and his problems were the least of my concerns. He tried to stop me, and explain, but I cut him off, and strutted off into the night with my dogs, and my head held high, without a clue as to where I was going! Luckily, with the help of my dog and the keen sense of direction, I found my way back to the taxis, and away from the smell of trouble.

And then there was The Blinker, who got two dates and we shared quite a few calls. Whilst he was good looking, charming, and nice, he didn't get me going mentally, and at times I felt that we were worlds apart. Nonetheless I appreciated that this was what dating was all about. What really put me off though was the constant blinking.

I'm like many people that when I see something catches my attention on somebody, I tend to focus on it because I have told myself not to look. I found myself staring hard and barely blinking because he was blinking like one of those crazy porcelain dolls In the horror movie 'Dolls'. Whilst he was talking I kept feeling a temptation to wedge matchsticks in his eyes to prop them open! I kept having visions of a blinking husband and a brood of blinking children. I foolishly told my colleagues about him, and they were saying, 'I love blinking I do', for bloody ages and that cheeky git NK even posted a comment about it a few days ago! I dated The Blinker well over a year ago!

Whilst there are probably many people who are thinking that I'm a fussy cow, and that I'm lucky to go on these dates, and meet men full stop, I also know that there are many women who will empathise with me. It is hard out there, and whilst I'm laughing now, and being quite light-hearted in my attitude, if I'm going to be on this treadmill doing a similar line in dates for many years, I'm probably going to end up with one of those frozen smiles on my face like a bad botox job. Believe me, I've laughed and joked about men with women who've been dating for years, and are still searching for Mr Right, and I've seen those faces.

Strangely enough, now that I am thinking of getting my arse in gear and dating other people, TC has decided to be quite attentive. What is that sixth sense that men seem to have which makes them change tack with precise timing? I've had a couple of phonecalls, texts and I have agreed to go out with him on Saturday night. It's like a feast or a famine! behaviorven be arsed to try and read into his behaviourbehaviorng seems to improved his relationship behaviour over the last couple of weeks and I'm going to enjoy it.

I will be doing my entrance speech as my first task in the Big Blogger house and expect NML in her full raucous glory! Feelling okay by the way although joint pains have started to kick in over the past couple of hours and I am struggling with my left arm and hand a little. Thank God I'm not left handed, or a left handed man in need of a wank!

Reality Check

Well I haven't turned into a jive turkey now that I'm on the steroid comedown, which is a blessed relief. Thank you to everyone who celebrated with me in the comments box. It's all very heart warming. I wasn't quite sure what to expect but I had visions of me shaking and talking lots of shit, and then it occurred to me that I have been watching too many movies about drug abusers.........

Fabulous news - I have been selected to be a Big Blogger contestant, which is the blogging worlds version of Big Brother. I haven't a clue what I'm doing, but I've been led to believe that they'll be tasks and diary room posts. It was tempting to be very diva-ish and make some ridiculous demands in advance of my arrival, but I have decided to behave myself for once. This probably won't last long and I'll probably be evicted for being my usual raucous self. I look forward to it!

I've just come in from a night out with my team and feeling super tired. I hadn't planned to drink but because I wasn't feeling as cold turkey as I thought I would, I had a few glasses of Pimms. I had a great laugh talking about childbirth (bloody petrified of it), a perenium (something that rips in childbirth), poo and the fact that I hate people that poo in my work place because they have no respect for people (a woman once left a poo on the toilet seat), reality TV (how pathetic yet watchable the people are) and as usual John's willy.

John and I almost had a row because he insisted on showing me up in front of everyone about Male Best Friend (MBF). Being a bitch, I landed him in it by replying with the bitchy info about some of his previous exploits. I know I was mean, and I feel a little guilty, but I don't understand why people want to drag you back to your past and throw stuff in your face and then be pissed off when you give it right back to them!? Fortunately John is a close friend and I understand him a lot, otherwise we would have fallen out long ago! However, I think I'll be cautious about confiding anything in him for now..........

I need to think of something to donate to Big Blogger which will be part of the eventual winners prize. Underwear used or unused (joke!) is not appropriate and FMB's are out of the question. It can be anything but ideally it should be something memorable. Any suggestions will be greatly appreciated!

A Time to Celebrate

'You'll be finished the steroids in two weeks' - These are words that I have waited to hear for so long and I actually repeated his words, out of disbelief, mainly out of disbelief. He explained about how I may have withdrawal symptoms and that hopefully none of the symptoms will reoccur because it will mean lifelong use of steroids, but the upshot is that after three years of being sick and a year on steroids, the end is near. My life will be going back to normal.

I walked out of the chest clinic in North Middlesex Hospital and I felt the onslaught of tears. My eyes welled up, my throat hurt and I felt shitscared at the same time. It took a good couple of hours for me to keep my emotions in check.

It is so difficult to put into words what it is like to find out that your body is being returned to you after a 3 year invasion. I'm not even thinking about the possibility that it could all go tits up and I end up on steroids for life, because I just refuse to. Getting sick again just isn't an option. I'll probably feel rough as a badgers arse as I come down off the steroids but I'll just get my mates around to keep me company on the bad days and battle through the next 2 weeks.

I looked at my body when I got home today which has a layer of water around it caused by the build up of sodium from the steroids - slightly puffy fingers and feet, even bigger boobs, rounder 'healthier face', bruises and stretch marks on my bum (from the steroids not from an arse battering) and an overall curvier figure. I've always been small - I spent most of my late teens and twenties being 6.5 -7 stone and I now weigh 8.2 stones (My all time high was 8.5 stone). I must admit, I like the bigger booty but I'm not keen on the little steroid tummy. I don't want to be skin and bone again, but I do want to lose the little tummy that everyone else pretends they can't see.

There's another thing to celebrate today - Tired of Men is one year old. It all began when I went on a date with a guy I now refer to as PC Plod and I have to admit that I really can't believe that it took me so long to start a blog. It's been a good year with mostly highs and a few lows, but I did find a merry band of friends to share it with. I have ranted and had support in the comments box whether it's been about relationships or my illness, and I shared my heartbreak with you all when I realised how much I had screwed up with Male Best Friend (MBF). I've spent the past few months having a dalliance with The Contender (TC) and saved myself a fortune in psychiatry bills. Thanks to everyone who has visited, read and commented on the crap that goes through my head. This blogging is a strange thing - you put your thoughts about a particular topic (mine tend to have men it) and hope to f*ck someone finds what you have to say of interest. I am planning to expand on the world of NML as I have more to say on relationships and hope that you'll join me when I finally get my arse in gear.

Rest assured, whilst I do have a soft centre, I won't be going soft on you all anytime soon. I'll still tell it like it is, even if I piss off a few people. If you're looking for schmaltzy, kissy wissy advice on how to keep a man that treats you like shite or how to be some convoluted idea of a woman, you're in the wrong place. If you want to hear a woman saying that men are the centre of the universe, you're definitely in the wrong place!

In honour of this fannytastic day, I have listed my 12 Favourite Posts:

How To Date Me Or Even End Up Marrying Me I love this list!
Average is As Average Does When I advertised for the wrong type of guy...
Dude Where's My Energy The first time NML got abused!
Bastard Syndrome When NML felt some serious heat on arse in the comments box!
Emotions When NML was broken hearted. Nuff said....
The Contender When the whole saga began!
Bob Marley & Me - Introducing NML I like to shock...
Ex Factor A rather deep insight into why I left my ex-fiance.
Changing To Be Wifey A moment of temporary insanity!
Bigus Dickus Living it large...
10 Reasons Why I Know I'm Single Single and proud!
Staying Off The Relationship CrackIt's like rehab here, didn't you know?

It's been a good day today. Tomorrow is the first day of the come down. For all I know the next time I write this I'll be like Pookie in New Jack City, all mashed up and jacked up, trying to get off the drugs! Okay, okay, I know I'm being melodramatic! Fingers crossed, it won't be too bad!

Weekend By Numbers

Well you could say that my night out with The Contender (TC) was a resounding success because he didn't leave mine until 4 pm yesterday. I am trying to type this without smirking to myself....

We went up to my local pub on Friday night for a few drinks where I did a spot of 'celeb' spotting when I spied Dermot O'Leary, the presenter of Big Brother's Little Brother (BBLB) with a few ladies.

NML: Ooh. Check that out! I think that's Dermot O'Leary.
TC: Who?
NML: (Rolls eyes at lack of 'celebrity' knowledge) You know, from BBLB.
TC: Huh? (Stares at him a little too long so that the poor guy probably thinks he fancies him) Oh yeah, you're right. Well spotted!
NML: Gosh, he's a bit on the short side isn't he?
TC: Shush, he might hear you!
NML: Well I doubt that he'd be surprised to discover that he's a bit on the short side!

Later in the evening we ended up in bar playing R&B where I sang along to everything and we tried to discreetly take the piss out of people. Both of us were fascinated by a bum with a terrible knicker line and naturally I ripped the piss until he was crying with laughter. When the bar closed we ended up being the last two people to leave and got talking to the bouncer, Gideon, which resulted in me being a bit naughty (BTW, I'm fascinated by the name Gideon and it gave me a lot of mileage for jokes yesterday). There was a club next door and despite hearing techno pumping through the floor, Gideon insisted that it was R&B. Smelling an opportunity to take the piss, I tried to persuade him to give us free passes.

Gideon: I cannot give you a free ticket. I cannot (Imagine strong African accent)
NML: So you're a bouncer with no power? (TC starts cracking up laughing)
Gideon: Listen my sistah, I am sure I can get you discount but I cannot give free entry.
NML: Sistah? Surely if we're related you could hook me up?
TC: You are too funny, you know that?
NML: I try! (Wine is making me cocky)
I continue badgering the guy until.........
Gideon: OK, OK! For you, not him, I give you free entry.

Gideon pulls a wad of entry tickets with a zero price on them and hands it to me. He stuffs the remainder back into his pocket as I stare at him incredulously.

NML: What's this? (I wave the ticket in his face) I saw your wad of tickets which means you can give TC one.
Gideon: I need those ones.
NML: What for? For the women that you're going to be luring in off the street? I bet you use these tickets to get them in the sack!
TC: Gosh they must be some cheap women!
NML: Oh take your ticket! Thanks but no thanks. If he doesn't go free, I don't go free.

The funny thing was that neither of us had any intention of going to the club! I had a very chilled Saturday lazing about with TC, talking, watching TV, dozing on and off, and well, enjoying the first extended period of 'quality time' that we've had. It was chilled, it was intimate, it was everything that a single gal would want out of time with 'her man' but it doesn't mean that I am getting my hopes up. One step at a time is the name of the game.

Last night I went out, and I got chatted up so much I lost track. I've discovered that the key to meeting lots of guys when you go clubbing is to lose someone and go looking for them. As I searched for my friend, I was literally stopped every two steps by a different guy. Some were, to put it politely, not my type, but a few were definitely up my street. I found that I was enjoying the attention so that even after I found my friend, I continued to 'look for my friend'. The problem was that I had danced with quite a few guys (think close to 10) and I had promised them each that I would dance with them later after I had found my friend. Some bumped into me dancing with someone else and I had to make out that the new guy was a mate when he was out of ear shot.

I had brilliant fun and I must say that I quite enjoyed being chatted up and talked pure doo doo to. If one more guy starts chatting me up by telling me that they're not trying to chat me up, but...well, I think I may just weep. Do they not realise how silly they look when they then proceed to do exactly what they said that they weren't doing? I have tentatively agreed to meet one guy for a coffee sometime and I lied and promised that I would call 3 other guys. It seems that as outspoken as I can be, I'm rubbish at letting down people when they give me their numbers!

As we left the club, we got pestered by a few more guys who seemed to have nothing better to do but loiter on street corners.

Guy: I was going to chat to you but you looked a bit vexed.
NML: That's because I am!
Guy: Oh! Sorry. I'll get out of your way then.
NML: (I turn back) No, I'm not vexed at all. I'm happy!
Guy: Oh great! (He advances towards me)
NML: Just joking!
Guy: You're a bad ass woman you know! Playing with a guys emotions!

I turned and laughed with him and when I turned back, I just missed walking into the lampost!

Benefits of having a Man – The Flippant Reasons

Even though I only had about 3/4 glasses of wine I felt rough as a badgers arse this morning. We had one of those bloody platter things and I think between that and the wine my tummy has been feeling a bit dodge all day. It was quite funny reading back my drunken post this morning. That's wine for you, makes you think you want a man and that you're missing out on something!

Benefits of having a Man – The Flippant Reasons

1) I'd like to have someone to share my life with (it's a pretty good life you know). It's great when there is someone there sharing the ups and downs with you.
2) Making plans with the one you love is great fun. I could say things like, 'Next year we're planning to buy a place together.' instead of 'Next year, I vow to make more effort to meet men'
3) Sexual healing - Who doesn't want sex on tap? – At least for the honeymoon period! I could throw out my rabbit that doesn't get used anyway (current cost per use is £6 – it cost £18) I'd like to think that I'll always be up for getting a good seeing to, but I could keep the rabbit for when the honeymoon phase wears off, maybe…..
4) To eventually unleash a mini-me on the world – Imagine a mini NML creating havoc. I love it! I'm scared shitless of childbirth though…(If a willy can hurt then how on earth am I supposed to push out something as big as a baby?!)
5) To fill in the empty spot in my bed which has a pile of pillows there.
6) To do half of the cooking
7) If we're not cooking, to cough up for half of the eating out
8) To go on romantic weekends away and sun holidays
9) I could take him to weddings and nobody would ask me stupid questions anymore such as 'When do you think you're going to get a boyfriend?'; 'Are you not lonely without a boyfriend' or when they come out with stupid shit like 'It'll happen to you someday.'
10) He could do the ironing. Every guy I've gone out with has had a penchant for ironing. With any luck it'll happen again minus the aggravation!
11) I could get my mum off my back and I wouldn't have to hear conversations like:

Ma: Do you know, Mrs O'Brady's daughter who's 25, 25 you know!, has just had a baby?
NML: Maybe she's a tart!
Ma: NML, stop being rude! She's got a husband and a house as well.
NML: I should bloody well hope so!
Ma: And do you know that Mrs Moores 26 year old daughter, 26! you know!, is getting married.
NML: You want grandchildren don't you? Can't one of the boys get someone knocked up? Sure they probably have already and you just don't know it!

12) People would stop suggesting highly unsuitable people for me to go on dates with. My friends don't seem to know the men they recommend well enough and it would give me great pleasure to knock back their offers.
13) I could genuinely say to people when they ask me to dance, that I have a boyfriend and mean it. How ridiculous going out and ideally wanting to meet a man and then I spend the whole night lying and saying that I have a boyfriend!
14) I could wear that very foxy suspender belt that I brought in Victoria Secret's on a whim when I was in NYC last summer. Much as I dress from the inside out, I still haven't been able to bring myself to wear it yet as it seems almost wasted.
15) I might stop buying so many clothes and shoes and save a fortune. I often wonder if my spending habits are because I don't have sex on a regular basis and a mans idiosyncrasies to distract me.
16) He could buy me presents such as the shoes and clothes that I'm supposed to be cutting down on buying.
17) I can go on double dates and go to dinner parties without looking like a spare prick. I could do couplely things although I wouldn't forget my delightful single friends.
18) I could get his friends to go out with my single friends putting a number of my friends out of their misery.
19) My toilet seat would get left up and I could tell him off for it even though the toilet seat being left up is an irritable sign of domestic bliss.
20) My male colleagues would stop taking the piss out of me and stop calling me really fussy. And if they continued taking the piss out of me, I could set my man on them.

So........

I have the unexpected pleasure of an evening with The Contender (TC) which means I will have to dash home and make my flat look hospitable. He had alluded to the fact that he wanted to see me tonight when I spoke to him on my way home last night but I was a bit sozzled and he was having his dinner, so we didn't actually make the arrangement until this afternoon. Naturally we couldn't do it without some hilarity……

TC: Have you made plans for this evening yet?
NML: No, I've been playing it by ear.
TC: I can come up if you like.
NML: Hmmm, yeah that sounds good.
TC: Well you can think about it if you like and give me a call back (He is half laughing as he says this)
NML: No, come on up. Oh shit! Don't be thinking that I'm really eager or something!
TC cracks up laughing and we talk about going to the same bar that we went to on Monday.
NML: Well, I'm telling you right now, if there is a rerun of what happened on Monday, you'll be bloody well speaking up!
TC: I promise! I promise! If they turn up we'll just leave.
NML: You're such a wuss!

Must run. I have a date. Ooh! I do like saying that!

Where is The Love?

I have just had a few drinks with B and John and I am feeling just a touch sozzled from all of the vino. I knew I had definitely had too much as I found myself dancing my way up the stairs in my apartment building to the sounds of The Game - How We Do on my iPod. I actually quite enjoyed being out with B and John but naturally our conversation got onto the subject of Male Best Friend (MBF) and our drink last night and I found myself explaining my actions. The great thing is that I think they realise that they don't need to be worrying about me because I am more than able to take care of myself.

What does worry me is, John's obsession with his willy. The way he talks you'd swear he had the biggest one in the world. I made a wisecrack about not having any for a while and he said that he was more than happy to do his duty and service me. Yawn.........that's B's territory!

He thinks I like playa's because of MBF and the fact that The Contender (TC) has baggage. I actually disagree because MBF is a separate situation and that just because TC has baggage, it doesn't make him a playa. I don't want to defend any situation that I get into because nobody is perfect and I'm doing the best that I can. If I met other people to date, I'd be bloody well dating them. I'm not going to throw myself at every man I come across just to prove that I can be with someone other than TC. Meeting men is not a problem - I meet men all the time. But can I meet the right man? Or even one that I can date?

I'm fortunate that I'm not the type of woman that accesses how happy she is based on some guy in her life. If life has taught me anything, it's that you should be happy and content within yourself. It's much easier to have someone come into your life when you know who you are and are happy with it. I know I'm fortunate. I've got my family who are completely nuts but I love them and a wealth of friends to draw support from. When things go down the toilet, I can never claim to be lonely. When I have gone through some of my darkest moments like breaking up with the ex-fiance, getting sick, making the decision to leave MBF, I have had a wealth of people around me, physically and virtually. That's hot! (I really need to shake off my quirky Americanisms now that Visiting Friend has gone home...)

Regardless of how happy I am, and I am very happy, there is another part of me that would like to be cuddled, kissed and ravished by a guy that thinks I'm the best thing ever. I don't want anyone to complete me - I'm complete already, but I'm ready to let some love into my life. Yeah it's great that I have a wealth of people around me, great social life, time to myself when I want it, great job (or at least a fairly well paying one) and all of my home comforts, and most importantly a sense of well-being, but I can't help but wonder what it's like to have someone 'love' me.

Now John would shoot me if he knew I was writing this (too late, B will have told him when she finishes reading this), but I was overwhelmingly pleased to see him hug and kiss B publicly and display his 'affection' for her. Why I can't I be with a guy who doesn't treat being with me like a covert operation?

I think that's my struggle with TC. I like him, a lot, but even though he's broken up with his ex, he's got a lot of baggage due to trying to sell the home they shared and he's tip toeing around to keep the peace. If I wanted someone to be creepy-creeping around, I could be with MBF!

I spoke to TC a short while ago. He'd left my message and suspected that I was out on 'Media Night' getting pissed. I think he wants to meet up tomorrow - He must be going through one of his hot bursts because since we were out on Monday, I've had emails, a text and now this phone message and subsequent chat. Hmmmmm.... hot and cold......this week...hot..

Ah fuck it! I shouldn't have got a bit sozzled this evening because I'm probably being hard on myself and making unfair comparisons. I guess what I realise is that for all of my so called hardness, I'm a secret softie within. I may have a take no hostages attitude and enjoy putting people back in their place, but I am a bif soft. Jaysus, I must be going through a bit of bravado impotency this evening. I must give myself a good smack on the arse and get a grip!

Jaysus, I need to sleep off this wine after Big Brother 5. My alcohol tolerance is pants at the moment!

Truth Hurts

Today is a significant day because it's two years since I packed my bags and walked out on my life with the ex-fiance. I don't remember the date because I'm pining for him (I'm so not!) but because unfortunately I have a bloody good memory for dates! June 1st is a momemorable day because it marks the day when NML got sense, put herself 1st and said f*ck it to plans and ideals, and instead turned her life upside down in the quest of wanting and getting more for herself.

Being the right bitch that I can be, last year I celebrated it with a caterpillar cake from Marks & Spencer. I sliced it up and being the gannets that my male colleagues are, loads of the lads wandered in to get their slice of cake.

Male Colleague: Hey NML. I know it's not your birthday so what are we celebrating?
NML: Oh...just me breaking up with my ex-fiance a year today.
Male Colleague: Huh? (Coughing and choking)
Male Colleague: Are you ok? Don't worry, I think it's only me that does things like this so don't be worrying that your girlfriend will do this when you break up!

And most of the guys had a variance of choking/coughing that but they also looked at me with a mixture of respect and fear. I always find that when you have a big break up with someone, people expect you to be all f*cked up, with your face all pale (lighter shade of brown in my case!), poor attention to how you're dressing, red rimmed eyes on the verge of tears all the time, hair all jacked up, depressed. Of course I felt upset for the first while but I'm not one to be sobbing into my tea and biccies every night pining for someone who wasn't exactly sitting around pining for me.

There is no cake today and there won't be on any other June 1st, or at least not for the reasons above.

Strangely though and it was purely incidental, but I went for a drink with Male Best Friend (MBF) after work and 90% of it was pleasant but of course it just had to take a slide at the end. He said that he missed me, missed being close with me, missed not knowing what was going on in my life and that he wants to get back our closeness. I told him that I don't know if that will ever happen because our closeness was tied up in our so called love for each other. He then gets all arsey with me and because I'm feeling a bit tired and irritable, I put him back in his place.

NML: Listen! You'd better take that look off your face. If you were sitting there looking at me and I was the one who had chosen someone else over you, I could understand your annoyance. However....I seem to recall that you're the one that chose her over me, so if anybody's going to do the scowling here, it's gonna be ME! Don't be doing the whole you miss me bla, bla, bla because if you missed me you wouldn't be skipping back to her everyday. People that miss people, people that are hurting the way that you say you're hurting do something about it. So shut up!

I'll always care about MBF but I'll be damned if I'm going to waste my time and energy on someone that is too indecisive/weak/whatever you want to call it to do anything about it. I deserve much more than that. I was hurting a hell of a lot so I did something about it. I called time on me and MBF and stepped away because he couldn't give me what I wanted.

MBF knows I'm right and despite his attempts at defending himself, he knows that actions speak louder than words. I didn't go to the tube station with him and popped into Borders on Oxford Street (I need to be barred from that place with those bloody 3 for 2 offers leering at me). I bade him farewell at the entrance and he hugged me, for a little too long, and kissed me on each cheek and caught me off guard by catching me on the lips for a second. I moved away and said goodbye. God loves a trier, fortunately I'm not God...

I'd be lying if I said it didn't feel a little odd, but for the most part the goodbye didn't steer up too many emotions and I actually felt quite proud of myself. If I'd felt a big burst of horniness, I would have had to punish myself by spending an evening with The Rabbit. Joke! Joke! No, I would have banned myself from having chocolate or something. Honestly....