My 28th - TC & The Lump

My 28th birthday was spent at work with my nutty colleagues, that naturally made crass jokes about my age, being single, whether I would get laid that night, and if I was petrified that I would die alone in my flat and be found 2 weeks later being feasted on by Alsatians. I went out for drinks at lunch and got a lovely voucher after being sung to very tunelessly. The day was going so well...... And then I found the lump.

Birthdays for me tend to be remembered for me flashing breast (accidentally), me getting really drunk surrounded by my friends, and usually there's a man in there annoying the shit out of me. Almost all of those things have been done this year although The Contender (TC) didn't annoy the shit out of me.

However, my 28th birthday will be remembered as the one where I was flinching from the nagging pain in my neck (had it for 10 days at that point) and rubbed my neck, only to stumble across the tell tales signs of my sarcoidosis potentially flaring up. A small horrible feeling lump is in the left side of my neck and it's the reason that my neck has been hurting and why I have been flinching when I move my head. I popped upstairs and asked B to discreetly check for me and the look on her face when I placed her finger there gave me the answer that I needed.

I didn't let it ruin my day, far from it, but it did linger in the back of my mind and I was afraid that I would blurt it out to TC. I talked with Male Best Friend (MBF) and he wished me a happy birthday and told me not to panic and to enjoy my night.

TC and I ended up going for dinner in one of our favorite local haunts, up the road in Queens Park. The waiter recognised us (I think he thinks I'm nuts hence I have stuck in his memory) and he made a fuss of my birthday and I got sung to for the second time that day. TC and I chatted, ate and drank for hours and we had a really good night. For those that remember, I made a wisecrack 'Well I guess I'll see you in 3 months!' to him when he was saying goodbye last Sunday. When TC asked me out for my birthday, he made a crass comment about proving that it wouldn't be 3 months and at dinner, I pointed out that it wasn't a very nice way to ask me out. He agreed and told me that he had regretted saying it because he had genuinely wanted to take me out for my birthday and had been thinking about it prior to my own wisecrack.

As the night progressed I realised that having a 'conversation' on my birthday may not be the best of times, and I wasn't sure what I wanted out of it. I don't know if I want to actually do the whole boyfriend/girlfriend thing with him. I think I've wanted it because I felt like I should be asking for it.

We walked home laughing and chatting and picking out the houses that we like the best on our favorite road. It was straight to bed when we got back and we were half dozing within minutes. And then I said it.

NML: TC, I'm going to ask you something and please try not to take offence.
TC: OK.......
NML:You know when you do your disappearing acts?
TC: What disappearing acts? I never disappear. (Pinches me in my side and pulls me in tighter to him)
NML: Anyway........when you go on your disappearing acts, are you disappearing with someone else?
TC: Huh?
NML: Let me cut through the fluff: when I don't see you for long periods of time, are you with someone else? Are you seeing someone else? Are you sleeping with somebody?
TC: Bloody hell no. I'm only with you.
NML: I hope you can understand why I asked and not take offence.
TC: You have every right to ask and I understand why you did. Do I disappear?
NML: Do you live in a bubble? Yes of course you friggin disappear!
TC: You're such a cheeky cow! (He starts to tickle me and I jab him in the nuts and the night ends very nicely!)

It is very clear that I am expending a lot of energy on something that TC doesn't even recognise as being odd. I did a quick straw poll with some of my female friends and they all complain of the same thing. We spend God knows how much time thinking about what we think our guys are doing and the bloody goons don't have a clue that they're even pissing you off in the first place! I recognised from TC's genuine bewilderment that he didn't have a clue what I meant by disappearances and totally didn't see it through my eyes until I pointed it out. At that moment I had clarity and I stopped thinking about what the hell is going on with TC and I.

What's very clear is that I don't know what I want. I like him, I really do and I have a good time with him but before I go telling him that I want a proper relationship out of him and getting him to jump to my beat, I have suggested to myself that I decide if that's what I want first. I am also worried that TC is a bit of a rebound from having my heart broken by MBF. I'm not entirely sure though and I hope that I'll stumble over the answers that I need soon.

I went out last night with my friend M from my holiday in Egypt. We went to a club which I won't put a foot inside again as the guys were too aggressive with their attentions. I'm the type of woman that when I say no, I mean exactly that, not come back and try your bloody luck a while later. I had 2 guys practically stalking me and I found their behavior more than a little disturbing. Stalker 1 was following me wherever I moved to, then dancing in front of me and forcing me back into the wall. Everywhere we moved, he turned up a while later. I refrained from telling him to get lost as I suspected that it would not help, but I saw somebody say something to him and he stopped after that. Stalker 2 kept asking me to dance. When I refused he would dance in front of me and then try to grind me. I told him I didn't want to dance with him 6 times and he still came back again. 'Seriously. I.Don't.Want.To.Dance.With.You.' He looked at me blankly and still tried to dance and then I said 'F*ck off before my big black beefy boyfriend comes in here and kicks the shit out of you.' Job done.

I'm not going out tonight. My body feels woeful and I have no energy despite loads of sleep. I went out for a few hours to do some sale shopping and brought some lovely kitchen stuff that had been rather expensive but reduced significantly. Still no toilet seat though.... I went to buy on yesterday and came home with 3 pairs of shoes........whoops!

My whole body is hurting so instead of ploughing on and going out, I'm chilling out and having a rest. I'm out with my brother for some posh nosh tomorrow night and after being out every night this week, it's not a bad thing to be in tonight. I'm struggling to walk without it hurting a lot and I'm sure I have a lump in my bum as I've got the same jabbing pains there too. I think I'm going to try and come up with some ways to create more awareness about sarcoidosis. If anybody has any suggestions, please let me know. I am fine though and I'm not worrying as that doesn't help. There will be no more steroids for me and I'll be seeking alternative therapy.

Right, I must concentrate on watching Big Brother. Speaking of which, I am in the final of Big Blogger (this is my most recent post) so if you have been following, be sure to put your vote in to support your person of choice. I'm inclined to believe that Vit will win, but it would also be nice to see one of my bezzy blog mates win - Alan. I haven't a hope in hell of winning as it's a game for far more popular bloggers but it has been a bit of fun for me to take part in.

I hope you're all having a fabulous weekend and thank you all for your lovely greetings in the comments box and emails.

*Editors Note - I have updated my About Page which includes my cast of characters!

Happy Birthday To Me

I rolled over this morning after waking up from an odd dream where I was arguing with someone and as I drifted off to sleep again, it hit me full force. It's my 28th birthday. What the f*ck was I expecting? Drum rolls? A fanfare? A man to roll over and give me a good seeing to so I could start my 28th year with a bang? A grey hair? Sudden ageing all over my face? Breakfast in bed brought to me by Colin Farrell/Morris Chestnut/Brad Pitt (pre Angelina)?

Well none of these things happened and instead, I rolled over and closed my eyes for another 30 minutes and then raced around to get ready for work. I was running so late, that I didn't even have time to open Nac's presents or reply to all of the texts that decided to come through whilst I was in the shower. I'm wearing a nice new pair of lemon yellow trousers, with a short sleeved white top and heels. Got to look good for my birthday....at work.

My mood did take a dive when I spent my entire 14 minute tube journey to Oxford Circus shitting a brick. It's all of the police being extra vigilant and a pathological fear of rucksacks!

My mum phoned a few minutes ago and I had a quick conversation with her that basically involved her being very hyperactive (as usual) as she babbled on (I see where I get that from), although the babbling was about her old fear of getting older and the fact that she was now comfortable with her age (she should be - she's almost 48 but looks very early 30s) and that she's brought herself a new bed so that at least if she dies, she'll die in this beautiful, blissfully comfortable bed. Nice! 'NML, now I hope you'll be making some serious plans now that you're 28.'

Huh? Give me a bleedin break. I've been awake for less than 2 hours and I've turned 28, not 48! Yes this birthday does feel significant.....

- I feel like I'm being pushed further up the chain of adulthood
- I shouldn't still be rolling around laughing at poo jokes and stories but I know I'll continue and when I stop laughing, then I'll know that I'm old!
- I don't own a flat but I do own a shitload of shoes, clothes and home comforts. I'm starting to feel that I should buy my own place as I'm a big girl now, but I need to stop going into Selfridges and being lured by really good sales!
- At 28, I'm no better at nabbing a man than I was when I started pulling boys at the disco when I was 13 back in Dublin. I want to try harder to make better choices about who I'm with.
- I've been feeling a bit broody recently and its occurred to me that whilst I am happy on my own, I do want to do the whole meet a guy, settle down, have a mini-me to unleash on the world (one that keeps there clothes intact though)
- I can't go out like I used to. It takes me a couple of days to get over a big night out. I remember being in my early twenties in Dublin and the US and going out almost every night of the week!
- I'm going shopping for a replacement toilet seat and I'm putting a lot of thought into it!
- Suddenly the scenario of me, 2.4 children, a man and a house doesn't seem a million miles away.
- I wonder if my boobs will stop growing in my 28th year. I'm only little, being almost 5ft 3 (don't know why I can't just say 5ft 2), - officially under 8 stone now (the steroid weight is coming off steadily), but the boobs remain big-ish (I don't want to mislead people that I have porn star/glamour model tits) I just hope that they will settle down now that I'm off the steroids as I don't really feel like replacing almost every single bra I own!
- Bigger knickers have recently started to appeal to me. I don't mean voluminous granny knickers that I could substitute for a parachute, but the little boxer French knickers. As someone who abandoned big knickers when I spent the summer of 97 in Baltimore and got introduced to thongs, and very rarely wore anything remotely bigger, rail, hail, shine, or time of the month, this is a big move.
- I'm getting on better and better with my mother and don't take things personally when she talks out of her arse. I know that I'm definitely feeling more my age!
- I feel like I need to make some decisions about what I want to do with myself career wise and I'm not quite sure what to do. I love my job sometimes, but feel that I could be doing something that I really love as opposed to something that I like and that feeds my shopping habits, although that's not the worst thing either.
- I've been off the steroids for 5 weeks and I do worry about what this year will bring for me health wise. 3 years of dodgy health is making me wary and whilst I'm not ill per se, my body is behaving far from normally. More on that another time, but it's mostly horrid aches and pains that make me feel about 90!

I'm out with The Contender tonight and I intend to have a good time and in a nice, happy friendly haze of evening (this is how I imagine it), I plan to convey how I feel about our 'relationship'. Reality is that I'll probably have a few drinks so that my proverbial nuts get quite big and I say what's on my mind. Nicely.

Anyway, I'd better go and do some work. Old Boss (The real life Mr David Brent himself multiplied by a million) said 'Are you 30 today? Oh no..,no...you're 29 aren't you?' 'You're funny, you dick' I replied. Happy birthday to me!

Caught With My Pants Down

Every once in a while, life comes along and catches you with your pants down. Before anyone jumps to conclusions, I have not made an exhibition of myself as I have countless times, at least not today I haven't!

I was out for dinner last night with a good friend and her 3 very naughty children. I love these kids but they are the noisiest kids that I have ever come across and they don't seem to pay very much attention to their parents. I lived with them for a month when the fiance and I were together (she is the wife of his boss!) and it took a few days for my ears to adjust to the lack of noise. I was greeted by Madame G the 5 year old, who took it upon herself to inform me that there was a card, a bunch of flowers and a box of chocolates for my birthday present. Thanks for the surprise......

'Do you want to play Yahtzee?' For some reason kids think I'm great fun and I constantly get roped into playing games. 'Of course I will' I said, feeling safe in the knowledge that we were in a restaurant with no Yahtzee. 'Mummy, lets go to the car and get the travel Yahtzee!' Oh f*ck!

After countless accusations against each other of cheating, hair pulling, hiding of dice, and pretty much showing their mum and I up like there was no tomorrow, my grin was starting to disappear. Despite the threat of the end of Yahtzee and my imaginary slipper, they were completely ignoring me. Then I heard my phone beep - It was The Contender (TC) texting me to ask if I would like him to take me out on my birthday. I must admit that I had to read the text a few times and double check that his name was really on the end of the text. I very gracefully accepted, naturally after I had allowed a sufficient amount of time to pass so that I didn't look too eager. A while later, Sammy the 8 year old brandished my phone at me. 'Who's TC and why is he taking you out on your birthday? What about Ex Fiance?' Bloody hell!

I spoke to TC on the phone last night and he wisecracked 'I remembered what you said to me yesterday about seeing me in 3 months and I thought, right I'll show her!' What is it about guys that they have to be so literal and competitive? 'Oh my God, you're such a dick. How long did it take you to come up with that big master plan?' He stressed to me that he was taking the piss and that he was looking forward to taking me out. Don't think I'll be ducking out of having the 'conversation'. It's still on. TC has however managed to completely catch me off guard with this and my birthday is certainly going to be interesting....

I didn't think anything else could happen to catch me with my proverbial pants down, until lunch today. I was walking out of Pret (lunch chain frequented by half of London) in my own little dream world, when Male Best Friend (MBF) appeared in my vision, hand in hand, one her hands carrying a bunch of flowers, smiling and laughing with the girlfriend...

I could lie and tell you all that I was unfazed by it, but I wouldn't do that to you. No, the world went into slow motion and I felt myself go cold. It seemed like an eternity but I saw him before they saw me. When he saw me, his face fell and this odd look passed over his face, and it almost looked like he was moving away from her. I don't know where I found the balls but I kept a straight face and as I walked past them I said 'Hi MBF' and he gave me a tight smile and muttered hi. She gave me a dismissive look and carried on walking. I willed myself across the road and into my office, cried off lunch with B, checked myself in the mirror in the toilet and realised that I was OK, and went to my desk and sat down. I took a deep breath, and unlocked my PC and noted that there was an email from MBF that must have been sent just before lunch.

To cut a long story short, the email said that he had gone on this blog as he was convinced that B and John knew something he didn't (he hasn't been on the blog for ages) and he was expecting to read loads about himself (must have been mega disappointed) and instead read about Saturday night and was so shocked he had to log off. Jaysus, it's not like he read that I'd been shagging TC or something!

I read the email a few times and burst out laughing because it seemed so ridiculous considering what I had just seen. I ate my lunch and felt quite calm by the end of lunch, and then I felt anger creeping in. I think I was obviously a bit hurt but whilst I recognise that I will always care about him, most of the hurt stems from pride, the complete double standard and being made to feel like a f*cking mug! (The anger is creeping back) I felt like a complete and utter fool for ever believing any of the shite he ever said to me and seeing him like that was like a slap in the face and the equivalent of a kick in the nuts, both at the same time.

I replied to his email telling him that he was being paranoid and that he has no business sending me an email like that considering what I had just seen. Then we spoke on the phone and when he started rabbiting on about me getting the wrong idea, seeing more than it actually was, it not being a big deal, him not buying her the flowers, him not knowing that she was coming in, and him calling it an unfortunate chain of events, my temper finally switched on and it bubbled out of my mouth in a horrid torrent.

'An unfortunate chain of events is me ever having anything to do with you. An unfortunate chain of events would be if you make it to the end of today' and then I hissed every name under the sun at him. He kept saying how much he loved and cared about me and that I was making too much of it, and I hung up the phone because I didn't want to hear another thing. I went for a walk with a friend and felt much calmer and identified what the hell I was feeling.

I'm not angry because I want him. I'm not even angry because I saw him with his girlfriend. He's entitled to be out with her, she is his girlfriend after all. I wouldn't even have been anywhere near as angry if he hadn't sent me that stupid email, but he did, and I felt he deserved to called a 'lying, deceiving, cheating, two-faced, spineless f*ck'.

I'm angry at me. I'm angry at discovering that old MBF (pre me getting some sense and when I used to believe how much he loved me) was talking a complete crock of shit and that despite his protestations of his heart being broken and that I was the only woman for him and that he was in a difficult situation, he's walking on the road outside the office hand in hand with her, laughing and grinning like there's no difficult situation at all. I hate feeling like a mug, and I am, because I should never have listened to the complete diarrhea that was coming out of him. I was right to see the light because he's still with her now which just goes to show that he's not to be believed.

I met up with Nac for dinner at Wagamama's followed by the theatre (nodded off for a bit during the first half and declared the ending to be shite) and when I told her she said 'What a c*ck!' and I howled with laughter and realised that I was far from being heartbroken. Quite the contrary. 'You're pride and ego's dented is what's up' she said with her cheeky Northern accent. She knows me far too well and when I get up tomorrow, I will not have any more anger in me. He doesn't deserve it.

Birthday Squeezes, Partying & Confusion but No 'Conversation'!

Brace yourselves - It's a long one! Last night for my early birthday celebrations, I wore a white boob tube with a short ra-ra skirt and my favorite shoes, the Bertie purple suede heels that have long suede straps that wrap around my ankles. The hair was a little Beyonce wild and I was glossed up to give all my mates kisses when I saw them.

The evening started with a good friend of mine Mr C calling around. He is one of The Contender's (TC) best friends and I first met TC over a year ago at Mr C's leaving do. Mr C had spent the day at Lords watching cricket and was staying over at mine. He popped back after the cricket to get changed and managed to have me hiding in my kitchen for a few minutes....

My toilet seat has been a bit temperamental but I managed to fix it yesterday afternoon. Mr C went in the bathroom for a shower and after a few minutes I vaguely remember hearing something crash but assumed he was being clumsy. At this point I was in my bedroom which is next door to the bathroom and it was only when I walked into the hall that I was hit by the fumes of a No.2! Thinking it was my imagination I walked into the bedroom and back out - stench wafting out. I went into the kitchen and back to the hall - stench! So I faffed in the kitchen for a few minutes in the hope that the smell would disappear. He came out a while later and announced that my toilet seat had come clean off the toilet when he was mopping some water off the floor. Huh? I could barely look him in the eye but when I went to look at the bathroom, the smell had all bit disappeared. I think Mr C broke my toilet when he went for a No 2!

Later TC, and another couple of friends arrived - Do you know that this was the first time I had seen TC in 4 weeks? Yes, read it again 4 weeks. I didn't know what to expect when I saw him but he came over and gave me a squeeze and kiss on the cheek. Squeezes were definitely the name of the game last night........

We headed into central London and naturally the conversation revolved a lot around the bombings. The resort that I stayed in last week in Egypt has been bombed. The club that I talked about was a few doors down from the hotel and a number of the places that we were in have been completely wrecked. There will be people that were on our flight that would still be out there and Egyptians that worked in the area will have been killed. My thoughts and prayers are with the people of Sharm el Sheik and all of the people caught up in these atrocities.

Other than the talk of current affairs there was constant pisstaking and TC was being affectionate towards me in the car. You know, little squeezes, meaningful looks. I reminded myself that I needed to find the right moment to have a 'conversation' with him. That moment never happened...

It was great to bring close friends together from work, uni etc, and I can't believe how many good friends I've made since I moved to London 4.5 years ago. There were quite a few more guys than girls (F*ck knows how I'm still single) and it was a great opportunity for almost 30 people to get to know each other. TC got on with everybody bar MBF (male best friend) and again was quite touchy feely in front of everyone and it was clear that we were more than just friends.

MBF was drunk when he arrived but was generally good fun. I was cautious of rocking the boat and causing an upset, so I tried not to look too couplely. I know it seems silly but I didn't want any showdowns. He kept giving me squeezes too and hugged me for too long when he first arrived, and also kissed my cheek for far too long.

It would be fair to say that I spent the evening being squeezed by both TC and MBF. They both kept displaying their affection for me and I had to swat MBF a few times. The worst was when I was dancing with a group that included MBF and he said 'You look unbelievable tonight' and then leant towards me (he's 6ft 4 and I'm almost 5ft 3) and playfully bit my shoulder! I moved back and told him to behave and turned to see TC walking towards me. Rather than look guilty (I had no reason to), I went over to him and we laughed and chatted. I didn't dare look to see what MBF was doing.

TC spoke with all of my friends and spoke very highly of me apparently, and they all thought he was lovely. Shame he's so friggin elusive is what I felt like shouting!

I started off with Malibu and Coke but after 4 of those and still being sober, I started on the vodka and Coke. I think I had 4/5 of those which definitely had the desired effect. Quite a few of my mates were lightweights or completely shitfaced (John, B, MBF) and by 2am people started to leave the party heavyweights behind. I had decided to head with TC and the other 'heavyweights' to the club downstairs. TC was talking to me and reached out and touched my hand and then held it for a few moments. I sensed that I was being watched and looked up to see MBF looking livid. I excused myself from TC and as I walked towards MBF, he strided over to me and announced that he was going home. He could barely keep his anger in. I asked him if he was alright and he said that he was. 'OK then. Thanks for coming and I'll see you on Monday' and with that I walked over to TC, picked up my drink and we headed downstairs. I didn't look behind me and I forgot about MBF and his annoyance very quickly.

B had left a few minutes before with what could only be described as an emotional goodbye. It's amazing how alcohol gets the emotions going and I think she found last night a little hard because she's been loved up for the past few months and I've been getting on with things and I think she really noticed it. I love B to bits and gave her a big hug and told her not to worry and to sleep off the booze!

TC and I spent the remainder of the evening dancing and chatting. In between I flitted around Mr C and the other boys and had a brilliant laugh overhearing their chat up lines. One of the lads was chatting up this girl and when she walked away, he ambled over to us and said 'I'm in there'. 'Yeah, of course you are' I said. 'That's why she's walking off chatting up some other chump' and we all looked at her doing exactly that. He was completely unbothered and moved on to his next prey.

TC and I really danced up a storm together (he's very good) and when he warned me against the last vodka and coke, I ignored him and then found that I had tipped myself over the edge. I was wasted! I had to sit in the toilet for about 10 minutes to stop the heeby jeebies and the sensation of sea-sickness! I remember adjusting the boob tube so that my black strapless bra (couldn't find the white one!) wasn't showing, but at some point between leaving the toilet and chatting to one of the boys, it must have gone awry. We were chatting away and I noticed that his eyes kept drifting towards my chest and I looked down and realised that the top had slid down a bit! Do I ever have birthdays that don't involve me exposing myself?

Mr C and TC came back to mine (apparently I gave the taxi driver stick) and when I stumbled out of the bathroom after brushing my teeth, TC was waiting in bed for me. It occurred to me that we needed to have a 'conversation' but I decided that it wasn't the right time and got into bed. I have a vague recollection of him saying 'Nice sexy PJs' which consisted of a white mesh vest and shorts set and him snuggling into me. He was hugging me and giving me little kisses when apparently I shot up out of bed and swung my legs over the side. I remember the whole world spinning around me and thinking 'Jaysus, I won't be looking very bleedin sexy if I throw up all over myself and the carpet!' TC kept asking me what I was doing and eventually the spinning subsided. 'Thanks for coming to my rescue!' I said laughingly as I lay back down and he replied 'I didn't know what you were doing! Come here!' and he pulled me in what may have been an attempt at a bit of action but I passed out after a few moments with our arms wrapped around each other, followed apparently by me moaning and mumbling in my sleep!

I woke up this morning and he still had his arms over me and as I looked him, I thought 'When the f*ck am I going to have this conversation?!'

He woke up a while later and was all lovey and affectionate with me, but there was no rumpy pumpy (that's for you Greavsie, king of metrosexual catchphrases). The estate agent had phoned a while before and I had thought that he was going to have to head off, but he didn't need to in the end. However the agent must have left a message at his ex's re the possible viewing and she phoned and left a message. Whilst I was making tea for us, he came in and told me that he was going to have to return her call and that he would speak to her in the hall outside my flat. OK....I decided that this wasn't the moment to say something as I would sound jealous.

We lay in bed dozing and chatting and then he went to Tesco's and brought and made a breakfast of bacon sarnies. Again, I wondered how the hell I was going to find the moment to say something.

He flicked through the channels and landed on Eastenders (big UK soap drama) and we ripped the piss out of the program and I nodded off for moment and had a sensation of falling. It was really funny and it was only after the giggling finished that I thought 'Damn! How the f*ck am I supposed to start this frigging conversation when we've been laughing and he's got his arms wrapped around me and he's made breakfast? What is it about men that when they sense that we're going to have the 'conversation' they roll out the charm offensive?'

A while later he got up to head off and I felt my stomach churn and I wondered if I had dodgy tummy and was going to be hit with a dose of the trots or whether it was nerves. I opened my mouth and nothing came out. He sat back down on the bed and hugged and cuddled me, and told me how great it was to have spent time with me. 'This is your moment!' my brain screamed. I opened my mouth and in true NML style, I quipped 'Well I guess I'll see you in 3 months!' He looked at me in shock and then burst out laughing. 'That's not true!' he said in a high pitched voice. 'You're right. See you in 6 months!' I quipped again to which he replied 'F*ck it, I'll see you at your next birthday.' We both giggled and then stopped abruptly. 'It's not like that though NML!' as if that was supposed to reassure me. I stayed silent. 'It's not!' and his voice sounded high pitched again. 'Whatever you say.....we'll see.' He left with promises to call me tomorrow and he sent me a text a while ago. I swear that if I'm not going to see him within the next few days to have the conversation face to face, I will have it over the phone!

All in all, it was a brilliant, if slightly confusing weekend. I love a good party and it felt good to be surrounded my mates. Thank you to all of those who've been giving early birthday wishes. I hope you all had fabulous weekends too! I'm off to bed - the tiredness hurts!

And The Drama Keeps Coming

Well life went on as normal after yesterdays events and like most of London (or at least the media lot of central London), I found myself at the pub. I figured seeing as I was walking home I may as well stop for a drink like everyone else. I think the fear of the afternoon plus horrible period pains equaled low alcohol tolerance. There's a lot to be said for us Londoners not allowing things to get to us - I was pissed out of my face by 7.30pm along with most of my colleagues, and one of the new boys mooned at me!

Today brought more chaos with the police having to shoot a bomber dead at Stockwell station. I'd only got off the phone to my mother an hour before when she had told me off for getting the tube to work this morning. I got distracted watching last nights Big Brother and had no choice but to get the tube if I didn't want to be late for work. I did however spend the entire journey shitting a brick and when we sat in a tunnel outside Paddington station, I started to feel wheezy as my eyes sought out the non-existent bomber.

I got the tube home this evening again because my wedge shoes were too high for me to walk home in and I wasn't buying yet another pair of shoes. Everyone now looks at everybody and people with rucksacks are stared at in fear. I shot out of my seat when it pulled into my station as my nerves couldn't take much more.

I've had a quiet evening in anticipation of tomorrows partying and instead popped round to my great uncles house as it was my cousins birthday. My aunt and I spent ages chatting and then the kids pestered the shit out of me whilst I tried to watch Big Brother. I told them to be quiet before I got my slipper out and they laughed their heads off. If someone had said that to me when I was there age, yeah, I probably would have laughed too! They asked me how old I was and I told them I'd be 28 next week. One of them said he thought I was 19 or 20 (good boy) and the other said he thought I was almost 40! Cheeky git!

I was then subjected to several dance routines and was horrified when the 5 year old starting whining up to some reggae!

This old dude kept looking in at me and I thought he looked vaguely familiar. He eventually came bounding in, gesticulating a lot and saying my name and it turned out that it was my Uncle Bunny. Yes, I do come from a very typical Jamaican family and I have great uncles Bunny, Buster and Chin (God rest his soul). Oh and my grandad is called Leroy!

Anyway, once I realised who he was (I hadn't seen him for a few years), I remembered that my brother and I had idolised him when we were little because we used to visit his flat which had a massive sound system and he used to wear pimp daddy hats. We were convinced that he was Shaft! I told him all of this tonight and how we used to think he was so cool and he said 'I am still cool. Do you remember when your dad and I collected you from your flat a couple of years ago?' I nodded but he said 'You don't do you?' How could I forget!?

Picture this. My dad and Uncle Bunny (in his 70s) collected me from the flat I used to share with the ex fiance to make the 3 hour drive from London to my grandparents 70th birthday. Within minutes of setting off, both started moaning on about how hungry they were and stopped at KFC, which I hate. They both stuffed our faces and we were on our way, with me bitching for a while about the stench of KFC in the car.

We'd been driving for about an hour when I was assaulted by the most horrific stench of fart. It was one of those silent but deadly ones, and was so awful, I'm sure I went green and I thought I was going to throw up. This continued for about half an hour and I was looking from my dad to Uncle Bunny wondering which one of them was trying to knock me out. I was too embarrassed to ask my dad if it was him and tried to let some air in the car.

My dad pulled up at service station and Uncle Bunny legged it from the car to the toilets at the speed of light.

NML: Oh. My. God. Please tell me that was him shitting the car out, and not you?
Dad: Are you mad?! I was shocked that you didn't say anything! I kept thinking that any minute now she's going to kick off and I'll have to say something to him. Jesus H Christ I thought I was going to pass out.
NML: Well you needn't think I'm putting up with that all the way to Wolverhampton!
Dad: I think he's 'sorting' himself out now. (Looks out the window pointedly to the service station toilets which my uncle was probably destroying)
NML: Do you think he's like....shit his pants? I have heard that saying 'Once a man, twice a child'
Dad: No. I think his bloody bowels are messed up. Probably the rum!
NML: Well I doubt that greasy KFC helped! I'm telling grandma on him. (Dad starts pissing himself laughing) Actually, better still, I'm telling grandad. He wouldn't take too well to having his favorite granddaughter being traumatised!

Uncle Bunny returned about ten minutes later looking very sheepish....

So yes Uncle Bunny, I do remember you all to well!

Have a good weekend everyone and I will be back with tales of my early birthday celebrations. To all my London peeps, be safe x

More Terror & Panic in London

It's amazing how your mood for the day can change so quickly. I was having a sneaky McDonalds with B to soothe my PMT when the lady beside us informed us that there had been some sort of explosion at Warren Street, which is about a ten minute walk from me. I felt sick to my stomach and couldn't eat another thing. We both snatched up our mobiles and tried to make calls, but I couldn't get through to my brother. B spoke to John and he dismissed it as a rumour, but someone else told us that 3 stations (warren st, Oval and Shepherds Bush) had been evacuated and there were reports of all the windows being blown out on a bus in Hackney.

B and I headed out onto Oxford Street and we were looking back the whole way as we kept hearing the sirens. We watched the news when we got back to work and it was true. I don't think many have been injured and there has been reports of an incident with police at a hospital near Warren Street as well. My home is being terrorised again by people who couldn't seem to get their shit together enough to actually have proper bombs (thank goodness). I'm so disgusted with these people but it's clear that these idiots need to go back to their 'dealer' or whatever you call people that sell these things and have a word about the dodgy deal they got. I think I'll walk home this evening.

Ex Marks The Spot/Big 28

Some of you will remember when I saw my ex fiance (some of you refer to as Mr Brown Suit) at a birthday party and the sense of growth I discovered. Well it seems that my ex hasn't 'grown' at all and seems to be experience an impotence of his maturity. Today I found out that my ex is truly like a dog in a manger: he doesn't want me but he sure as hell doesn't want anyone else to either, certainly not his friends.

When I was at the party, I spent some time catching up with one of his friends who is happily married. After the main party, we all went back to the hosts house (my ex didn't come along) and I chatted away with the lads and took the piss as usual. I had a really good night and it had nothing to do with anyone trying to get into my knickers!

My mate told me that my ex called up this particular guy and asked him what the hell he thought he was playing at talking to me at the party! Er, last I heard I can talk to whoever the f*ck I like! Initially when confronted with this revelation I assumed it was because he doesn't want anyone being friendly with me, however, it seems that someone at the party has been telling silly tales and my ex thinks that his friend is trying to pull me. What. A. Cheek.

I don't think it's just that he wants to do a spot of pissing a ring around me to mark his territory. It's all because his friends may find out that he's told a few porkies. We didn't break up because I wanted to move the US and he wouldn't. I don't live in the US despite him telling everyone I'd moved away - I live in Maida Vale, London. They might, God forbid, find out that I haven't been crying like a baby since he left and they may even find out when we actually broke up. Have I mentioned that he pretended that we were still living together and going out for a few months after I had walked away, despite the fact that he was screwing someone else?

I really wish my ex would piss off and grow up. It's not all about image and making out that your shit doesn't stink and you're a perfect man. We're all human and people break up all the time and admit that things went wrong. It's knowing that things went wrong that is to key to growth and moving on. I feel sorry for him because he lives a life of lies in his glass house whilst I know who I am and I have complete freedom.

The Contender (TC) has text, phoned and emailed since I've been back. He must sense that a 'conversation' is coming. Men do seem to have a sixth sense for knowing that their time is almost up. When you step back, they step closer! I haven't found the right time to have the 'conversation' with him and he's coming out on Saturday for my early birthday celebrations (More on that coming up). I have warned everyone not to even open their friggin mouths about me 'seeing anyone' or 'having a boyfriend'. I don't need to be embarrassed and there will already be some interesting potential fireworks! Male Best Friend (MBF) is going to be there so that should make for a uncomfortable moment or two. My brother should be coming and if he even gets a whiff that he thinks TC (he's never met him) has been seeing me and not being Ideal Boyfriend material, he will no doubt roll out the cutting one liners and have a giggle at TCs expense.

On to my birthday celebrations. I am 28 on the 28th of July and I've decided to celebrate it big style because I feel like I am entering into a big phase in my life. I'm starting to do a spot of soul searching and I'm not sure what I want to do career wise. I think I need to work for myself. My love life is piss poor and I have decided to call things a day with TC because 'it' doesn't suit me. It's not about him anymore, it's about me. I don't know what my 28th year is going to bring, but I'm going to start it with a whopper of a party. I'm having it this weekend because the end of the July in London is when lots of my friends disappear. There are almost 50 people coming out on Saturday night which means that it will be probably be 30-40. Oh what fun!

I realised that I have been having 10 years of adult birthday celebrations and I have included what I put on my birthday email...

'This whole party thing started 10 years ago and I've only managed not to show myself up on one ..... (Mum, close your eyes!)
18th - Invited 100 people, 250+ turned up and my 2nd boyf got got beaten up by the 1st boyf and the rest of my mates. The cops got called... Good 'ole Dublin.........
19th - Woke up after a mega bender with the 1st boyf beside me and had to have the 'It's not me, it's you' conversation...
20th - Summer long p*ss up in Baltimore, but my birthday involved me throwing up about 15 S*x on the Beach cocktails down the apartment stairs in front of my mum, plus being kidnapped for a couple of hours by the strange neighbour in my apartment building.....
21st - Had to eat a phallic shaped ice cream (think banana and two ball things) in front of my swooning parents and friends, so I bit the head off to get it over and done with...
22nd - Ex boyf (a different one) was flirting with his sister, my friends and I were horrified, so we took the p*ss out of him to make it better
23rd - Massive bender in Fort Lauderdale where the ex (the one that flirted with the sister) came to visit for 3 weeks and I sent him packing after 3 days!
24th - Danced on the bar at the Capital Lounge in Dublin in front of my drunken posse, followed by falling head first into my friends parents Versace chess table later that night.... 25th - Legless at the Cobden Club and don't remember very much....accidental exposure due to incorrectly worn clothing!
26th - More exposure.....my halterneck top strings came undone....boobs shown to all and sundry...also ate my first and only kebab
27th - My only sober birthday as I had just started the steroids...everyone else showed themselves up.... '

I wonder what will happen on this birthday........

I'm Back! Thank You Alan!

Today there was a lovely act from a wonderful gentleman which almost brought a tear to my eye (I blame that bloody PMS again). Oh OK, I was genuinely moved and it wasn't PMS! Alan who some of you will know from his blog Random Burblings, is a housemate with me in Big Blogger and today as a result of winning a somewhat ridiculous, but funny task, was made immune from eviction for 2 weeks. He had the opportunity to choose someone to be immune with him, and he chose me. My knight in shining armour! (DD, Serial, Daily Sketch - don't be jealous. You know I gots lots of love for y'all!) Alan, I felt that you deserved a big mention on here for this and want to say thank you and that your girlfriend is a very lucky woman! I must make sure I put some extra effort in Big Blogger. I admit that I have struggled at times to maintain interest but what Alan did showed me that I wasn't ready to be evicted yet!

So I've been back since Sunday night and I have been busy like a blue arsed fly! I am trying to get back into work (failing miserably and dreaming of sun loungers), I'm starting to catch up on blogs (loads to go, don't be mad if I haven't go to you yet!) and I also went for a job interview yesterday morning and I had a bit of an epithany, although it's been creeping up on me for a while. I'm not sure if I want to continue to do what I do (I work as a client manager for a publisher) and I need to decide what I want to do. I had been head hunted for this role and it would be for more money, different challenge etc, but I suspect that I would be bored. There must be more out there for me, surely?

I made it back from Egypt safe and sound after what was one of the funniest weeks ever. After we got into the club on Thursday and discovered that it was not anywhere near as full as that twat of a bouncer said it was, we got to dance to a couple of songs, and then got treated to an impromptu lapdance show by a drunk woman who seemed to want to shag her female friend. They writhed together for a while and when the song finished and they were cleared off the dance floor, they both returned to their respective boyfriends......

Moments later, 4 women came jiggling in, wearing (I shit you not) diamante studded bras with white cardigans that buttoned under the cleavage and exposed the bra, but their diamante studded bikini style knickers were there for us all to see. 45 minutes later, they were still prancing about and had changed costumes so many times and had belly-danced, yoddled, swung the skirt of their dresses over their heads, high kicked and thrusted around the dancefloor. I was open mouthed at some points and cried with laughter at the hilarity of what we were witnessing in this so called 'R&B' club.

We were fortunate enough to have a taxi driver that seemed to like us and he would drop us off and collect us. On this particular night he was waiting outside and advised us that his car had broken down and that we would be going home in the white van/people carrier that he pointed to. This was just as the car appeared to be pulling away and I said 'Er, I think your van is being stolen!' It turned out that his friend was turning the van around and M (my holiday pal and I) were pissing ourselves laughing but also a little perturbed that both of these guys were taking us back to the hotel. Somehow our fears turned into a full blown 'fantasy' that the only two black women for miles were being kidnapped and being taken to Cairo in a very conspicuous white van. For some reason this made us laugh even harder and when we were overwhelmed with 'l'ambience' (read: B.O) I was nearly sick with laughter!

We spent the last couple of days lying mostly in the shade, sleeping, watching As The World Turns (we got addicted to watching this after breakfast - it's pure shite!) and continuing in the tradition of taking the piss out of ourselves and everyone else.

Our last night, in true form was ridiculously funny. Firstly we decided to get a local taxi as we had been told we were being ripped off by the other taxi driver. Big mistake - this lunatic drove like a maniac and there were no seat belts for us. He dumped us on the main road unceremoniously and lets just say that I muttered a very rude word when I slammed the door after him. Within one minute the craziness started.

Host 1: Bumbaclaat! (Very rude Jamaican swearword which basically means ass cloth)

We were shocked but continued walking up the street.

Host 2: Bumbaclaat!
NML: That's it! How dare you speak to us like that?
Host 2: Bumbaclaat! Is funny?
Manager: What is the problem?
NML: This guy has just said bumbaclaat to us. He thinks he's being funny but he can't possibly expect to say that to us and have us come into your restaurant.
Manager: I am so sorry. He doesn't speak very good English.
NML: Let me get this right. He doesn't speak very good English but he knows the word bumbaclaat? (The manager is smirking insanely at me) You think you're real funny don't you?
M and I walked off and the stupid manager ran after us shouting.
Manager: Hey! (He keeps saying this as he follows us) Give me so attention. Give me some attention. Give me some attention. GIVE ME SOME ATTENTION!
NML: (Turning around feeling pretty pissed off by now) You want some attention do you? Move your rasclaat self away from me! (Yes I swore back at him in Jamaican with another variation of the same swear word, but it had the desired effect and he got lost)

We decided to sit down in one of the shish cafes further up the street from those weirdos. I think shish is this fruity tobacco that they smoke through water pipes. I can't smoke anything due to my illness and M isn't into smoking, but we could people-watch and have a drink and a chat in the glorious heat outside. After about 30 minutes M noticed that I was being watched by 2 guys standing out on the street and they stayed their for ages trying to get my attention. I pretended that they weren't there and instead kept laughing at the waiters who became really paranoid! (I wasn't laughing for any reason but I kept seeing them watching us and wanted to wind them up) It took a while for us to twig that the 2 guys off the street had now got a table 2 tables away from us and were trying to get our attention. When that failed, they moved to the table next to us!

I tried not to laugh but I looked around and realised that there was a waiter in front, one on the left, one behind us, plus the 2 guys to our right, and I was feeling a little claustrophobic! We were giggling like crazy but decided to make a quick but quiet exit. M managed to get out of the seat and into the aisle, but before I could, one of the waiters demanded to know where we were going. I told him to calm down and that we were going to the cashier to pay, but he insisted that we sit down and pay there. M got away to the counter, and as I tried to get out of the seat and into the aisle without looking at the guys, one of the worst things possible happened. As I got out of the seat, a great big friggin gust of wind came along and blew up my little ra-ra skirt to reveal my french knickers (thank f*ck I wasn't wearing a thong)! I grabbed at my skirt and pushed it back down but unfortunately caught their eye and they were goggled eyed at me and laughing their heads off!

We ended up going back to the same club with the dancers and this time got the R&B as promised. There were loads of pervos hovering but we just got into the dancing and I seriously shook my stuff. Then this guy appears and he was very cute. He was a black guy based in Italy working as a DJ and was looking quite hot in his sleeveless Diesel top. He showered me with compliments and because of my wariness of guys talking complete doo doo to me, he mistook it for me being shy, which only made him flirt even harder. He went too far though by mentioning how he wanted to meet 'that' woman to get married to and how I was like his perfect woman, after one dance. I'm good, but I'm not that bloody good!

He let himself down a bit at the end by saying 'I want to do something with you' which sounded like he meant sleep with me, but it was the language barrier and he actually meant kiss me. I came over all prim and proper for some reason and told him that I don't kiss guys I barely know, and then he proceeded to pester me for a snog for ages, until I got bored, kissed him on the cheek and bade him farewell. He doesn't know one of my rules: Never beg! Never plead!

I clung to the holiday for as long as possible and went to the airport in my little skirt and vest top with my bikini under it. I had to be practically dragged into the airport, and when I put my combats on, I nearly wept! I'm reminded of being 5 years old at theme parks like Alton Towers and Westminster Safari Park and throwing a hissy fit because I didn't want the day to end, and my mum eventually losing her patience with me for being a prima donna!

Egypt was fabulous, despite the slimy local men and temperatures that were a little too high (40+ degrees celcius during the day, average 37 at night!). If I had been there for 2 weeks I would have gone on a trip to the pyramids but it was too tiring for just 1 week and I needed to chill and rest. If you go to Egypt, do 4 or 5 star if you can. We did 5 star all inclusive and we had a huge variety of food at a great quality and no dodgy tummys. I heard stories of 2 and 3 star places where the entire hotel had come down with food poisoning! Nightlife was quite good, but not varied enough. It is all geared towards Italians which means Eurodance/Eurotrash music, which is ok a couple of times but gets very wearing!

Health wise I am OK. I had really bad joint and muscle pain in both arms last week which made me wince a lot and made it difficult to swim. When I wake up, or when I've been sitting for long periods, my legs hurt and I find it painful to walk initially but I'm pushing through it. However I do feel rejuvenated after my holiday and I'm being positive despite some of these aches.

Right, I'm off to catch up on some blog reading! Before I forget, some of you know that I put up another site which I was testing and would love to get some feedback on the idea, the posts, and any suggestions anyone has. I will be pulling my finger out and getting it up to date and any problems fixed over the next week (been a bit slack recently with sunloungers and working!) so the feedback will be muchos appreciated! It's nice to be back!

Egyptian Update

I can't believe it's my last night here and in a couple of days I'll be back in my office. Time flies when you're having a great holiday in Egypt. I have laughed so hard this week that I have cried or spat my drink out on several occasions. There are sooo many stories to tell but I don't have long so I'll squeeze what I can into this post and update when I return home to London.

After my last post M (my holiday pal) and I spent the evening drinking white wine spritzers and taking the piss out of ourselves and of course the other holiday makers. There is something about sunshine which makes people wear really inappropriate clothes! I got annoyed with one of the waiters because he got too familiar.

Waiter: Why won't you smile at me?
I smiled at him
Waiter: Tell me why you are so sad.
NML: I'm not sad.
Waiter then pulls on his best smile and sees that it isn't working.
Waiter: What has happened in your life to make you so sad? Have you had a lot of problems?
NML: Don't you think that what you have just said is more than a little rude? Couldn't you just say hi, given me my coke, let me say thanks and go on my way. I have no problems except for you and I am very happy. I'll be even happier if you stop trying it on with me!

All of the waiters are laughing at him as they realise that he has been knocked back big time.

Wednesday was spent lying by the pool after a very big lie in. I thought that Donatella Versace had turned up at our pool, but it turns put that it was her imitator. M was dying with laughter as the Donatella lookalike flexed her bum cheeks at the edge of the pool. She then strutted her leather skinned self over to our side of the pool, stood their preening for a few minutes, swished her long peroxide hair for a few seconds, got in the water for about ten seconds and then vanished like Cinderella. I thought I had dreamt it, but I definitely hadn't!

We made our first visit to Ne'arma Bay (nightclubs and bars) and spent a torturous 2 hours in the Hard Rock Cafe. Bruce Springsteen, Duran Duran etc sent us to sleep as we watched two English guys dressed almost identically pretend not to be a couple and fend off the attention of naive girls. These guys were wearing same make shorts but slightly different colours and these Nike sandals with the strap not done. Everyone kept looking at them because they looked really strange trying to dress the same and pretend that they weren't a couple.

I don't know what it is about women wanting to go after the unobtainable but we watched these girls trying it on with these obviously gay men who were barely disguising their disinterest and we were thoroughly entertained. I caught them giving each other a sneaky stroke as one of their 'fans' pushed her tits out and thought she was the best thing since sliced bread. She looked over at me as if I was supposed to be jealous but when she saw that we were struggling to control laughter she looked more than a little confused! Another of the girls was thrusting her chest in his face and leering at his crotch as he craned his neck to get a good view of his 'mate'. We left the Hard Rock Cafe because the awful Eurodance music started and I felt my rhythm draining out of me......

I had a bit of a shocker by the pool on Thursday when a little girl no more than 10 years old, came skipping along in a friggin thong bikini! I covered my face as she bobbed up and down in the pool with her arse in the air. My mum would have whupped my arse if I had even thought about wearing such a thing!

All day long every, most of the Egyptian guys at the resort stop by to hit on you and somehow I have managed to grin my way through most of the chat ups. Our regular pool guy kept coming over on Thursday and when we were leaving he came dashing over saying something that I didn't understand. I smiled and nodded and humoured him for a few minutes. M returned and started pissing herself laughing. 'No wonder he wants to chat. Look!' and pointed to my chest where I looked as if I was taking porn star proportions with the bikini top rising up and exposing breast! I quickly yanked my top back down and prayed for God to snatch me and whisk me back to the room.

We have avoided the beach since our first day, because in order to get off the beach we have to go up about 60 steps or a hideous slope, just to get to the next 30 steps or hideous slope. The first time we did it, I cried out for my mummy! We had to keep taking rest breaks in the shade and thought that we'd never make it. Unfortunately we had to go back to the beach on Thursday for a late lunch and the return journey was so awful, that after 10 steps I said 'M, there is a possibility I'm not going to make it. If I don't, you can have all my shoes and my iPod and speakers.' M started cracking up laughing and replied 'Right, well I'll push you down the stairs now and tell people you didn't make it!'

Thursday night saw another visit to Ne'arma Bay. Within five minutes so many things had happened I thought it was a joke. We asked a guy where to go for R&B and he told us to go to a place called The Tavern. We had to go up a back street where we all we heard was 'Chocolate'; 'Sexy'; 'Yo'; 'Are you sisters?' and then 'My Nigga's!' I froze when I heard it and turned to go and tell him off, but M grabbed my arm and dragged me forward knowing that I would cause trouble otherwise. Next came 'Oprah' and my head swivelled. 'Have you people lost your minds?'. The Tavern turned out to be like a honky tonk bar and when we put our foot on the step, everyone turned and looked, and we turned and left. The 'My Nigga's' offender stopped us on the way back.

Idiot: Why you don't stop my nigga's?
NML: Coz you keep calling us my nigga's that's why!
Idiot: You don't like?
NML: No I don't friggin like it. My own people can't speak to me that way, what makes you think that you can?
Idiot takes on a gangsta pose like Snoop Dogg and jabs his fingers in the air.
NML: Don't do that! You're not in a rap video..........or black..........

We headed back to the main street and told off the guy that sent us to The Tavern. He said that he thought all English people wanted to be in the same bar.......

We went to a bar for a few hours and got chatting to the owner who is from the West Midlands. He was a real sweetie and stayed clear of the Eurodance trash music and even threw in a few R&B tunes.

We headed off to Salsa, which despite the name is an R&B club. Feeling suspicious of everything that was being said, I negotiated for one of us to go free and got 2 free drinks. We asked if it was busy and he pointed to the plasma screen which showed a full dance floor. Convinced we headed on in and as we walked in, you could just feel that the club wasn't that busy. In fact there were about 40 people in there. The flippin footage they were showing was of a previous night! In fact, I'm not even sure it was the same bloody club!

Oh pooh, I have to go! I am sitting in the hotel managers office emailing for free (some charm, oh ok the bikini top) and I don't want to take the mick with their generosity. I will give a full update when I return home to my lovely London tomorrow.

I'm off out tonight and no doubt it will be a night of hilarity. Have a good weekend x

*Editors note - can you please visit this post at Big Blogger (apologies for forgetting to put the link previously!) and make a comment. Apparently if you don't comment, I may get evicted. Jaysus........Must admit that I haven't been as into it as I thought I would be so I'll have to get myself g'd up if I want to stay in the game. This is also my latest task.*

Greetings From Egypt

This is a quickie because the connection is rubbish and I'm afraid of it taking donkeys to post. I am having a fabulous time in Sharm el Sheik. We stepped off the plane on Sunday into 39 degrees celcius and promptly got ripped off by the guy with the trolley and then by the guy for our transfer to the hotel. We have just spent 20 minutes with our rep busting his balls over the rip off (verbally of course) and I suspect that we are going to be compensated.

The hotel complex is enormous with 9 pools, 8 restaurants and bars and absolutely camp Eurotrash entertainment. The first night we were treated to a guy singing along to every friggin song under the sun and watching people do these dance routines. Afterwards we were subjected to Miami Beats which is when the 'entertainers' dance horrfically and mime to tunes such as I Need a Hero, The Rhythm of the Night and I Wanna Dance With Somebody. They set the scene with props on the stage and in some parts were doing kung fu to the likes of I Need a Hero. I cried with laughter and naturally mimiced the dancers which made everyone else laugh. Ever the comedian.......

I have been pestered by so many frisky staff at this hotel, I'm begin to get shy (never! you all say). You can't get your tits out in peace because there is always an Egyptian pool boy/waiter/cleaner/bartender to come along and talk complete doo doo for a few minutes. They are a bit too fond of the word 'beautiful' here and I suspect that they say it to every bleedin woman they come across. Oh and calling my friend and I 'chocolate' whilst lickin their lips and leering...jaysus! If someone called me chocolate anything back home I'd be kickin some ass but I suspect that this is supposed to be complimetary. Dressed or topless, I have been tempted to shout that my tits don't talk....

We went to the nightclub last night and were subjected to even more comedic dancing and lots of Euro dance music. The male entertainers kept trying to get me on the dancefloor and I was refusing. 'Haven't you got any R&B or hip hop?' And when confronted with blank looks, 'OK, have you got any black music?' They shook their heads, which I followed up with 'Any English music, American music?' They still said no, which is why I was surprised when 5 'black' songs were played. I shook my booty and got my dance in before it faded back to Euro dance and the way people were looking at us, you'd swear they'd never seen rhythm before...

I seem to attract men old enough to be my dad and then some, and if some of them keep it up, I'm gonna tell them that I'm 14. That should hopefully scare them off!

It is great to have my day consist of nothing more than eating, drinking, lying in the sun, singing along to my iPod which I have hooked up to speakers. Our holiday song so far is Snoop Doggs 'Ups and Downs'.

I will update later in the week. My stomach is rumbling like a mofo! Hope you're all having a great week. I have a lot of blog reading to do when I get back!

Off To Egypt

Jaysus, I don't know where the day has gone. I had visions of catching up on a few blogs, replying individually to every comment, chilling out, however I have only just about finished packing. Did you forget? I'm off to Egypt in the morning!

Before I rabble on, I want to say thanks to everyone that has visited over the past couple of days, expressing their concern and feelings regarding the attacks on London. Thank you barely covers it and for someone like me who is very expressive, I find it difficult to put into words exactly how that support has made me feel.

I'm really looking forward to going away. I had felt overtired and work has been wrecking my head, plus I figured if I had a week off, it might chill me out long enough to stop me from feeling unwell. The last couple of days have been emotional and all of those reasons, whilst they are still there, seem miniscule.

I walked to work yesterday morning and it took just under 50 minutes and I stopped at a couple of stores en route so that's not bad at all. Edgeware Road was eerie and there were lots of sirens going by and everyone kept swiveling their heads to see where they were going to. I wasn't the only with ideas of walking to work, but there were a lot of people on the buses, although I actually outwalked them, which just goes to show how shite the traffic is in London. A couple were walking ahead of me, and when they got outside Edgeware Road station and he said goodbye as they went in their different directions, she burst into tears and they he held her tightly to calm her down. I quickened my pace and tried not to let it get to me too much.

Work was a bit of a drag and everyone had stories to tell of how they had got home, or their friends tales. One of my colleagues didn't come into work and there were some people that took the piss out of her. I felt it was insensitive and said so because not everyone reacts to things in the same way. Can't we just respect peoples right to deal with things however they want to?

After work I decided to go for one drink as a colleague was leaving. Somehow I ended up staying until closing and was quite drunk by the end of the night. Soho was chock full of like minded people and the streets around the bar were full. Everyone chatted and laughed as usual and I must admit to being on top pisstaking form. I flirted with the usual suspects and another of the guys (43) told me I'm 'wifey' material and that he could marry me and we could go and live on the ranch he is planning to buy in Montana. However, I have shattered my pedigree by not being actually born in the Caribbean but in Wolverhampton in the West Midlands (extremely different). He seemed heartbroken that I had wrecked some illusion/fantasy but I told him to get a grip on himself and that there was no point in shedding crocodile tears as I hadn't even said I would marry him. Some men and their ego's.....

I left the bar with my friend and her extremely drunk flatmate. Somehow we got down to Oxford Street and it suddenly occurred to me that I had to get the tube. My friend is extremely bossy (like 1000 times worse than me) and I'm actually glad that she is, as her no nonsense approach meant that I was sitting on the tube heading home minutes later. It's probably the quietest that the tube has ever been at that time (it must have been around 11.45pm) and everyone eyed each other warily. I weaved and bobbed my way out of the tube station with the fresh air (well as fresh as it can be in London) making me feel pissed out of my face. I staggered into my flat and passed out watching Big Brother on the live feed.

I have spoken to The Contender (TC) a few times over the past couple of days. He checked up on me on Thursday a couple of times and called tonight to have a chat and say goodbye before I head off. When I get back, we'll definitely be having a conversation regarding the demise of whatever we've been doing for the past few months. I realised as I was talking to him today that I would be OK with us being friends. He always seems to have so much going on and most conversations centre around him. Sometimes it's two way, but he sounds off with me a lot. Some people would be flattered that he feels comfortable about sharing but considering what I get out of this 'relationship', I should be charging a psychiatrists fee!

Right, I have to go as my friend is collecting me soon and my flat is a right state. Being typical NML, I have packed a shitload of stuff and have about 6 bikinis, ten skirts, dresses, lots of tops, sexy shoes to step out in. That bloody heavy Samsonite case is full of my wardrobe delights and I hope to f*ck I don't do my back in! My flight is just after 9am tomorrow and I think it takes about 6 hours. Everybody is waiting with bated breath for tales of me getting myself into trouble with the locals and of course men. I don't doubt that I will because it's what I do! My friend that I'm going with does sarky one liners and hides when I do MJ moves or blatantly take the piss out of people, which means she'll be hiding a lot this week! I can tell you this much now though, I will not be getting myself sold off into harem or being exchanged for friggin camels. Oh and my friends boyfriend isn't coming which means that I can sunbathe topless to my hearts content. Yippee!

Have a lovely week everybody. There is internet access apparently but I have no idea what state it is in, although I do hope to be able to post. If I don't comment on blogs whilst I'm away , it's not because I'm neglectful, it's either because 1) internet access is extortionate, 2) I'm pissed out of my head with my 5 star all inclusive deal (love slipping that in) or 3)lying out in the sun. So I will catch up with everyone on my return. Take care and be safe.

Egypt here I come!

Terror in London

Today could have been a very different day for me by just one single minute. I left the house a little earlier than planned and didn't stop at the newsagents for my bottle of water. When I arrived at my tube station I noted with satisfaction that there was under 1 minute till the next tube, but also thanked my lucky stars that I was there because the next two tubes were not due for 6 and 13 minutes respectively. Looking back I realise that if I had arrived a minute later, I would have been caught up in the chaos....

Within seconds of pulling out of my station we sat in the tunnel for a couple of minutes and when it pulled into Maida Vale we stayed on the platform. I lost myself in my book and John Legend on the iPod. Eventually we pulled out of the station and as we stopped at each station to Oxford Circus, I noted how busy it was but assumed that it was normal London. When I got to my station just before 9am, there was an unusual amount of people and one ascending escalator where I was trying to exit. I eventually managed to get on and when I got to the top I noted that it was 9.02am on the station clock.

Minutes later I was at my desk in our office in Soho but it was unusually quiet and quite a lot of staff weren't in yet. I took the piss out of my boss so that he couldn't tell me off for being late and checked my email to read comments on the blog. Just a few minutes after arriving my brother telephoned me sounding nervous and panicked, asking if I was at work. He explained that there had been two explosions and that he was in a car around Euston (near Kings Cross - one of the bombed stations) and there were cops everywhere and it seemed chaotic. He's unable to get the tube because of his fractured leg and his work has been sending a driver for him each day. If he was going to work as normal he would have been caught up in the chaos on the tubes...

His account of what was happening was the first we all knew of a problem...

My colleagues didn't believe me at first, but within half an hour I felt sick with nerves at what I realised was unfolding. It didn't help that the guy that sits beside me still hadn't arrived, his phone wasn't answering and he comes in on part of my route. Edgeware Road, one of the bomb sites is where I live. I live on the Maida Vale part and it is only a few stops from me and I passed through it this morning on my way to work. Over two hours of fear for our colleague was relieved when he finally phoned in. I've never been so pleased to hear from him!

My mum finally managed to get through after two hours and was in tears. It took me ages to calm her. We'd left messages for her shortly after confirming that we were both OK but she hadn't got them. She told me of how she had felt so worried and confused as she thought of her two babies making their way to work in London. Being a typical worried mother she demanded that we both move straight home to Dublin.....

At 12pm we gathered in reception to watch the speech from Tony Blair and stood together in collective shock. It seemed so surreal and I kept hoping that it would all turn out to be a mistake, a bad dream, anything but what was taking place. When the speech finished and they cut to the scenes of chaos, I got up and went back to my desk because I didn't want to watch my beloved London and it's people like this. I have never gotten over 9/11 and having to watch people die live on TV.

An hour later, and many of us were sitting in the pub. We had the choice of either staying in our offices, going to this particular pub, or getting lunch in a couple of the places across the road. We were told not to go far and that we would be advised when it was safe to go home. Being typical media people, my colleagues retreat to the comfort of a pub when things get rough. I'm not a lunchtime drinker but I had two vodka and cokes to steady my nerves. As I responded to the countless texts and phonecalls from friends and family all over the world, I started to feel claustrophobic and headed back to my office. I responded to emails, texts and phonecalls and decided to face the music and go home just before 3.30pm.

As I walked up to Oxford Street I noticed people holding hands tighter, children glued to their parents sides and caught snippets of chatter, all about the same thing. My head started to pound so I stopped in one of the only places that was open, McD's, and grabbed some food. I'm too petrified to get on a tube or bus and had made the decision to walk home. As I walked briskly down Oxford Street, I realised that many people were thinking the same thing as me and walking home too. I looked at all of the closed shops, the lack of noisy red buses, the somber faces, people flinching every time they heard a siren. 'Ordinary People' by John Legend came on my iPod and as I thought of what had happened only hours before, I felt my eyes fill up behind my sunglasses.

The great thing about my walk is that all I have to do is get to the bottom of Oxford Street at Marble Arch, turn right onto the Edgeware Road and walk straight home. As I turned onto the Edgeware Road every siren made my stomach lurch. I had no idea what to expect but there seemed to be hundreds of people walking, looking like me - purposeful, edgy, nervous, scared. It looked like everyone had raided their gym bags for their sneakers so that they could make the walk home.

It was all cordoned off at Edgeware Road Station and I noticed the usual gawpers watching the police etc outside the station. There wasn't anything to see other than a lot of CSI type people - the devastation was below us...

I was home in just over an hour and thanked my lucky stars that my trainers (sneakers) had dragged me home. (I had worn FMBs as the weather is unseasonally wet and hugged ny gym bag with joy when I found it under my desk) I flopped onto the sofa, switched on the news and took in the the atrocities that took place today. Lots of people dead, many unconfirmed and hundreds injured. It seems that there were only 4 bombs, not 7. Seeing the bus ripped apart was shocking and hearing people talk about clawing their way out of tubes, stepping over bodies, being trapped in tunnels, walking through tunnels to get to safety, horrific burns, fatalities, I realised that I am so very fortunate.

I may be scared but I have my life, which is more than I can say for those innocent people that had their lives snatched so brutally from them. The support on this blog has been overwhelming and it is so lovely to know that people care so much, even those that have no clue who I am. My friends from back home in Dublin, my friends here in London, my family here, my mum and the boys, and my friends from all over the world that frantically phoned and then text and emailed when they couldn't get through - wow. Everybody I know in London has been accounted for.

I don't 'get' terrorism and I don't think I am supposed to. The taking of innocent lives to demonstrate distaste at my country, it's politics, it's beliefs is cowardly and despicable. Living in Dublin where terrorism took place on my country's soil often enough, I have seen how people can become sympathetic towards terrorism, but I never could. I've spent my whole life being black and know the struggles of my race and many other races, but I would never advocate anybody doing such despicable things to demonstrate their anger and beliefs. What is clear is that every race has its struggles, some to lesser or greater degrees. Using bombs to intimidate people into doing what you want though, will never work.

I don't believe in the taking of human life for any reason and certainly not for terrorist purposes. I'm not idealistic, nor stupid - I just don't think that terrorism achieves much more than fear and it has devastating consequences for innocent people and that fear weaves its way into the fabric of our lives. It doesn't actually bring about the 'real' change that these terrorists are seeking.

Tonight I will go to sleep and when I wake up, this day will have become yesterday. I have to go to work tomorrow but I am too scared to get the tube or bus so I've decided to walk. I am praying for and thinking of every person that has been affected by the acts of terrorism today. Hopefully tomorrow will be a better day, but for many people there will be much pain and grief and we will be feeling the effects of this day for a long time to come.

Since I've been a little girl I've hoped that people will see beyond colour, race, religion, polictical beliefs, and the other issues that divide people and create prejudism, unrest and unease. Again, I am idealistic in some ways but hopeful - I have people interested in my well being that have never met me, I know that there are lots of good people out there, millions of us have just shown our support for the problems in Africa, more of us want good things to happen in this world than we do bad, but it saddens me to see what is unfolding in our lives. Yesterday London was celebrating the win of the Olympic bid, today it's hurting for what's happened to its people. The fall from a high to a low is great.......

Terrorist Attacks

This is the most awful day that I remember since 9/11. London is under terrorist attack and I don't think I have ever been so scared.

I know that people are trying to call me and not getting through. I am ok. I'm at my office and we're not allowed to leave. Home is not looking like an exciting prospect as one of the blasts is my road. (Edgeware Road). I work in Soho in Central London and it looks eerily quiet outside. I hear a siren and I feel jittery. All of a sudden, thoughts about my illness, and all the other shite are irrelevant. I just want this to end. This should never of happened in the first place.

The actions of these terrorists is cowardly and disgusting. There are many ways to make a point - killing people, injuring people, putting a city under siege is a despicable and cowardly way to do it. I feel fortunate to be here and I feel fortunate that I left my flat a little earlier. Two of the stations Paddington and Edgeware Road are stations I pass through every morning. I shudder to think of what could have been and what has happened to those poor people. My beloved city, home for the past four and half years is under siege it seems and I'm living the nightmare I have dreaded since September 11th 2001.

There have been at least 7 blasts at tube stations, a bus has been ripped apart by a bomb not too far from here at Russell Square.This seems ridiculous even to my own eyes as I type this.
I am praying. A lot.

*There was talk of a suicide bomber being shot dead at Canary Wharf although I have heard no reports on this. *

No Room In The Inn

I'm very fortunate that I see the wood for the trees, because if I was another type of woman I would be very confused and take a snippet of behavior as an indicator to dig my heels in and keep trying in this 'relationship' with The Contender (TC). Fortunately I'm a smart cookie...

He called me again last night to see if I'd booked my holiday and to have a chat. I made sure that I played up my surprise that he would see fit to call me. It's highly unlikely that I'll be seeing him before I head off on Sunday morning to Sharm el Sheik in Egypt for my 5 star all inclusive holiday (I love slipping that in!) and when I do return, he'll find that there are some changes in store for him. Don't get me wrong - I like TC. He's smart, funny, sexy, blah, blah, blah, but we shall be just friends. He wants the best of both worlds and it's just not going to happen. I recognise that I haven't helped things by allowing him to be as ambiguous about things as he has been, and I put it down to trusting too much that he would recognise that I had been supportive and understanding. But no, he looked at the inch I gave him and decided to take a mile. No more.

Whatever way he wants to see it, as long as we are to continue in this vein, I would feel used. I will not allow him to think that he can swan in and out of my life blowing hot and cold, and continue to gain fringe benefits. I do not need sex and I'm locking myself down and the sign says 'No Room In the Inn'. As my boy Eddie Murphy would say, it's time to extend a little p*ssy control - vulgar but true. The next time that sign gets turned over, I'm gonna be damned sure that I know where things are headed so that I can make an educated choice about whether I want to be a part of it. I know that things change but if I'd thought more about the 'situation' (his mountain of problems including selling the house with his ex) I would have seen that the writing was on the wall. There are a lot of great things about TC and it's great when we're together, but I don't like thinking 'Hmmm. I wonder when I'm going to see him next' when we walk away from each other. I'm not into that type of uncertainty.

I spoke to a friend of mine last night who had been pursued from NYC via phone, email and text by what she thought was a potential boyfriend. At one point she couldn't stop the phone from ringing, now she's lucky to hear from him 3 weeks since this all started. I told her that if the wind has gone out of his sails that quickly, he's not worth her time and energy. Hot and cold, all over again. She knows TC and likes him but feels that he's taking the piss and that I'm doing the right thing by stepping away. He needs to go and sort his life out. If I'm still around when he's all sorted and I'm still interested, then it's happy days for him. If not, tough tits! It's not my fault that he can't multitask.....

Only a few days till I head off to Egypt on Sunday and I a reakky bloody excited! There is a possibility that my friends boyfriend may join us on this holiday and whilst I did have some concerns about being like a spare prick, my primary concern was 'Oh f*ck I won't be able to go topless'. I mean seriously - I can't get my boobs out in front of him! It'd be like 'Hello friend that I've known for a few years. Excuse me whilst I whip my tits out!' Do I sound selfish for thinking about him coming as a deterrent to taking my bikini top off? Did I ever tell you all that I get the giggles when I see men in those little Speedos?

Everybody has been telling me to be careful of the slimy men whilst I'm on holiday. I'm unruffled by the advice - Bitch translates very well in most countries.......

I went for a drink with a few colleagues after work and when one of them found out that I didn't have a boyfriend he seemed shocked. 'I can't believe you don't have a boyfriend!' he exclaimed and was looking at me as if some fault was going to miraculously appear. 'I can' I replied dryly. 'I've been in all of my relationships. I think I'm lucky I'm single. I've saved myself!' I said and I laughed at what seems to be perceived as some sort of misfortune. He replied with, 'I didn't think girls like you are single. You'll be snapped up in no time!' I wanted to say don't hold your breath but thought better of it. Sometimes I don't have to be a smart arse......

Man Running Hot & Cold? Turn off the tap!

There was no showdown, no big conversation, no anything. This morning I was ready to go in all guns blazing, then I read the comments and felt the equivalent of a penis going limp....and then it rose again with a different mission and it's homing radar very firmly in place...

Firstly, The Contender (TC) isn't doing much for his reputation by continuing to run hot and cold by calling me, not once, but twice today. What the f*ck?

TC is a pain in the arse. He's sexy, funny, good looking, makes me laugh till my sides ache but a pain in the arse and I don't need that. I've been a prison bitch with my dodgy tummy and I don't need TC in the mix.....

To be fair, reading the comments today I recognise that whilst nobody said it outright, I have allowed this situation to spiral into this ambiguity. I trusted that he would recognise that I have been understanding and supportive of his 'situation', but when things got on my tits, maybe I should have spoken up. But at the time I felt like I would be jumping the gun by getting all heavy with him and I think I trusted that he wouldn't take the piss and would do the right thing. I forgot that he's a man and that men struggle to multitask though.......

Today I missed his call and he left a message on my voicemail about how he was sorry that we had kept missing each other. Missing each other? Missing each other is when two people keep phoning, it isn't when you phone someone, leave a message, she phones you back and she doesn't hear jack shit from you for almost 2 days!

So I left it a while before I called him back and when I did phone I was polite but not my usual self. I listened to how busy he had been working his very late hours (OK yes they were very late) which then led very neatly into how busy he was going to be this week and I stifled a yawn. In my mind I heard myself say 'You're busy..big f*cking woohoo' but I kept that to myself. We chit chatted for a bit and he enquired after my health but most of the conversation was around what he was doing. Fifteen minutes later it was over with him saying he would call me soon. I wasn't bothered.

So imagine my surprise when I'm on the phone to a client a couple of hours later and my phone goes and it's TC. It was all I could do not to burst out laughing and I pressed silent on my phone. I left it a while and called him back. I couldn't resist saying 'TC, is it my imagination or did you call me again? I thought maybe it was a mistake.......' He was rather caught off guard and got a little defensive and I laughed it off light-heartedly.

Apparently he wanted to chat some more and tell me about some drama of his. Yawn.....

The thing is, I am bored with 'Big Conversations'. I've had them with various guys for God knows how many years, and where are they all now? - In NML's cemetery of dodgy relationships. I can't be bloody well arsed. I like TC but I don't love him, and if he wants me to love him he sure isn't going about it the right way. I'm just not fussed. I think a lot of my annoyance stems from things not going my own way and I'll be damned if I'm going to stress myself out over TC. Now don't get me wrong, TC will be getting a conversation but when I see him face to face (our group of friends has some stuff coming up including my own birthday) or when he tries to arrange to see me on my own. Listening to him shit on about how busy his life is, I figured I'll make him feel uncomfortable the next time I see him and let him know how I really feel.

I absolutely will not be part of whatever TC has going on. I willingly took part for the past 3 months but instead of giving him an option of how to behave, I'm removing his options. It shouldn't have to be this hard at this stage, and I'm not going to crack my proverbial whip to get him to meet me half way. If he wanted to bloody well do it, he'd be doing it without me having to have a 'Big Conversation'. One of the things that I realised reading those comments was that TC doesn't care enough and that doesn't cut it with me.

I don't need this fannying around with his hot and cold tap of emotions. Bring me a man that wants to be with me, knows he wants to be with me, and has it within him to be with me without turning into a farce. I don't think I was asking for the world - a few more phonecalls, a slight increase in frequency for when we see each other, more conscious of the fact that he's in a relationship and if I have to do the verbal equivalent of twisting his nuts to get this, well he can piss off.

I'd rather be on my own than do this bullshit. I recognise that relationships require effort and work but 1) It's a two way street and 2) You have to be in a bleedin relationship to do it in the first place!

I am 28 in 24 days time and I am tired. I've been having crushes for about 20 years and doing this whole kissing boys and fretting over relationships for 15 years. I'm far from saying I'm past it, but I am saying that I'm past the point where some bullshit relationship is going to burn up my energy, because I don't have it, and I need whatever energy I have for staying healthy and enjoying my life.

The fabulous thing about having a blog is that instead of me stressing myself out rehearsing some diva bitch speech for him, I've got a lot of sanity checkers out there that make me see things in a variety of ways and it stops me from knee-jerking to stuff. Thanks to everyone who has given me their two cents over TC. You've all kept me sane!

I thoroughly enjoyed telling TC that I'm heading off on holiday this weekend, or at least that's the plan. Yes peeps, fingers crossed but I shall be having adventures in Egypt by the end of this week!

Oh and I know I was a bit quick off the mark yesterday but Happy Independence Day to my lovely American Friends. xx

Why Do Men Blow Hot & Cold?

After three months it looks like The Contender and I (TC) are either brewing up for a big 'discussion' or a break up, and that's if there is something for us to break up from. I am calm, but I tell you lot this for nothing - I am NOT putting up with this hot and cold shit. Why are men so bloody fickle? One minute they're all over you like a cheap suit, next thing you don't see them for dust?

TC is on thin f*cking ice. If he keeps going I'll be stabbing that ice with my high heels and watching him go under. I finally heard from him late yesterday afternoon....by text message. Not a phonecall, a text message.

'Hi sorry not been in touch. Hope you are still ok since the tablet reduction.....' (yes he did put the dots in!)

I was more than a littled peeved when I read this and replied with:

'I haven't been. I've been pretty ill. Anyway....I figured you're very busy. Have a good weekend'

About 30 minutes go by and TC decides to phone me with his great timing...whilst I'm in the bathroom. His message is interesting to say the least. He states that he has actually been busy (no sh*t sherlock) and that he's been working late, that he's so worried about me and can I text or phone him. Right.....

So I phoned him a while later and naturally his phone rang and went to voicemail and I left a message which was polite but brisk, letting him know that I had obviously got his message, not to worry and that I was at home. Nothing since.

Yes - TC is sooooo worried about me that he doesn't see fit to return my call in over twenty-four hours. TC really is obviously a very busy man. Sooo busy that a text message will suffice unless I say I'm ill. I don't want anyone thinking they have to phone me because I'm not well. he should be bloody well phoning me whether I'm cartwheeling all over my flat or snuggled under my sick blanket. A text message is not what you do when you haven't spoken to the woman you've been seeing for over 3 months! For once, I will not hold back anything. Yesterday when I read the text message I thought 'What a cock!' and I wasn't being complementary......

Much as I like TC, we have a laugh, we have good chemistry bla, bla, bla, there is no way on earth that I am putting up with this. My hairdresser asked me if he was good in bed earlier when I mentioned my annoyance and I was like 'I don't care if he makes me scream till fireworks shoot out of me. I don't care if a man gives me 10 orgasms in a row - there is no man that is worth putting up with this sh*t from.' (Please note that TC does not do either of these things and I was exaggerating for effect)

TC needs to decide if he's running his hot or his cold tap. I appreciate that he has got other things going on, and I have been more than understanding and accommodating of his situation,(Selling house that he still owns with ex girlfriend of a number of years etc), but this does not mean that his behavior is excusable or acceptable. Should he assume that his problems take precendence and that I will let him do as he likes? Why does he assume that whatever is going on his life is far more important than mine?

Well I've got news for you TC - I ain't no fool. My mama has said to me that a man will only get away with what he's allowed to. Well TC you're time is up. Maybe I have been too lenient. Maybe by being understanding and undemanding he's taken it into his head that I will be OK no matter what he does. Wrong TC, guess again.

I would rather be alone than put up with this BS. I am not that hard up for a man and I'm not afraid of my own company. I will never be one of those women that will stay with a guy regardless of what he does, so TC is in for a rude awakening. That's if I ever hear from him again!

For all of those who are interested, I feel better today. My stomach is still tender but at least my arse doesn't feel like I've been somebody's prison bitch! Oh and happy Independence Day to all of my friends in the US. Get drunk for me please!

F*ck Me I'm in Tatters

I'm at home with my blanket over me watching Big Brother on the live feed. I can categorically state that I have never, ever been as sick as I was over the past 14 hours. I quite frankly feel rough as f*ck and I'm petrified of eating, drinking anything especially alcohol, and the toilet bowl. NML has not been her usual calm and collected, oh okay collected self and there was nothing diva-esque about the past 14 hours.

I haven't been feeling too great over the past few days and it was down to having terrible neck pain which over a few days spread down my left arm and into my fingers. Last year when I had this type of pain it was because I had lumps in my neck, arms and back so naturally I felt a bit worried but have decided to tell myself that it's because I'm sleeping badly. Out of desperation I started taking ibruprufren which is pretty damn good!

I agreed to go for a couple of drinks with B after work. As I mentioned ages ago B and another friend John have been going out for a few months and as it often happens when people become one half of a couple, how often I go out with B has greatly reduced. I'm happy for the pair of them but I felt like she was giving me sh*t for not being around when she wanted me to be and we had a 'chat' yesterday morning where she said that there was nothing stopping me from asking her out. Being a smart arse as ever, I told her that my life doesn't go on hold waiting for the two of them to ask me out and I know I hurt her feelings and felt like a bit of a cow afterwards.

All was sorted over wine and a great chat and we shared a bowl of potato wedges and sour cream. We then went and met John, a client and the big boss for another drink where I had a few nuts that were in a bowl and I kept asking where the nuts came from.

I was sick before I even got home, mort-i-fi-cation! I hopped off at Maida Vale tube station and jumped into a taxi and was home two minutes later. I don't want to ruin the wonderful image you all may have of me, but I was doubled up in the bathroom and passed out a while later in bed. I woke up at 5.10am and I thought I had broken my head and staggered to the bathroom. Holy f*ck I was so ill! As my tummy emptied everything that I have ever eaten in my almost 28 years, I vowed never to drink alcohol again. My bum feels like it has been sliced and diced by Freddy Krueger!

I staggered back to bed and sometime before 7am I crashed my way back to the bathroom. This time I started saying 'I want my mummy' to myself. I'm not sure how she could fix the nastiest bout of the trots that I have ever had, but she would have said something rude to make me laugh and told me to get a grip on myself! I felt so hot that instead of getting into bed, I lay down on the floor beside my bed and pulled the duvet down onto me and shivered my way back to sleep.

I finally put myself in the shower at 7.45am but felt so awful afterwards, that I lay back on the bed sprawled out and let myself air dry so that my body would feel cool. I bumbled my way around the flat getting dressed and somehow managed to make it to work, although I was petrified that I was going to chuck up from the smell of someone's overwhelmingly stank perfume! She smelt like a whores handbag and I got all hot and bothered and I felt the colour drain out of my face.

At work I phoned B and relayed my escapades with the toilet to her and ended up crying as I was now overtired and I was scared shitless of it starting again. Some may ask why I went to work but I was afraid they'd think I was taking the piss as I had been out with the publisher later in the evening. One of my colleagues said 'Bloody hell NML. This is the one time that I can say that you are paler than me' - she's white with a tan!

I drank a sachet of stuff that is supposed to rehydrate you and replace the sugars and salts that you lose when it's spouting from every orifice, and ten seconds after putting the drink down, I was sprinting for the toilet and threw up so badly. When I got back the lovely boss was calling a taxi for me. Unfortunately it didn't arrive for 45 minutes so I had to lie down in the First Aid room. I have suggested that they decorate it to my tastes as I seem to be such a frequent visitor recently.............

I got home around 11am and was asleep for a few hours till my bro phoned. I told him the whole story and he was pissing himself laughing and I started to as well. Then he told me that he was at A&E. It seems that I wasn't the only one in my family suffering from alcohol related problems.....

My brother went out and got drunk last night and wandered home late and realised he didn't have his keys and his flatmate wasn't at home. Being a clever dick, he decided to climb in through the window but didn't manage to pull off his grand master plan and fell out of the window. He woke up this morning thinking that he'd had a bad sprain but apparently it got so bad, even he started to cry. They talked about surgery which he has poo poo'd but he has broken 3 toes and fractured his leg in 5 places and will be unable to do very much. We were cracking up laughing as we exchanged our war stories and I realised that my family really are a bunch of pisstakers, especially when the chips are supposed to be down.

The Contender (TC) and I, haven't actually spoken to each other since he walked out my place on Sunday. We exchanged texts on Monday, nothing on Tuesday, he sent an email on Wednesday asking for the name of my friends boyfriend who is a colleague, I got an email on Thursday telling me that her boyfriend works 15 minutes away and that we'd 'speak soon' and that's pretty much it. I know TC has a lot going on but you know what? If you're bothered about someone you'll call. I used to phone him more often without having to think about it, but when he went through his cold phase, I vowed to let him call me and after a while he was running hot again. And now he's luke warm heading to cold and if he keeps this up, it's game over no credits.

We've now been together for exactly 3 months and it shouldn't be like this. I should feel that I can call him up without looking like a dick and he should want to phone me and stop hiding behind his red tape with the ex or other problems as a way of justifying his hot and cold behavior. God, I'm sick of this ambiguity! Why can't I be one of those women that has a guy that knows what he wants, says what he means and does what it says on the bleedin tin!?