Weeing in the Wrong Cup, False Accusations and Behind The F*ckwit

I've decided that if something can go wrong or that there can be some sort of entertainment value in it, it'll happen to me. Take my check up with the gynaecologist on Thursday, now referred to as the FD after I terrified my boss by calling it a Fanny Doctor to get the time off. Sometimes you have to employ scare tactics to get your own way...When I went into the nurse, she asked me to wee in a cup and when I returned she asked my date of birth three times. I was wondering if this woman had ever heard of the month July and then it transpired that I'm not Catriona and that I had peed in someone else's cup! I had to skidaddle back out to the waiting room and I spent the next while wondering if I would now have my wee mixed up with someone else's and be told I had the clap...Perish the thought! So I did another one to be on the safe side!

Kind of reminds me of a few years ago when I needed a new bra and my boobs had decided to grow (again) so I decided to go to M&S and be measured. I was called into the changing room and I'm telling you right now, I KNOW that woman told me to take off my bra. She asked if I was ready and pulled back the curtain with a flourish to find me with my boobs on display and me brazen as anything with my hands on my hips. With much distaste she said 'You keep your bra ON...' and cut her eyes at me and pulled the curtain closed. Oh dear...

I had the embarrassment of being bollocked by what I shall refer to as the Incoherent Antipodean (thanks for the name...Girth) in the pub on Thursday when he accused me of taking pictures of his hard-on AND keeping it. Jesus, Mary and Joseph, I just wanted the ground to open up and swallow him whole! I couldn't get a word in edge ways as he pretty much accused me of being a penis keeper and THEN insisted that it wasn't a hard-on and that don't I realise that he's just very well hung. Some of you may remember that a couple of weeks ago, I went to a leaving do where he DID have a hard-on as he chatted to a woman and PDot took a picture of it... I finally managed to rat out PDot and got him to shut up for a bit. Shortly afterwards we got into a discussion about pajamas and he explained that he can't wear them as it feels like he has a big octopus wrapped around his legs. 'Oh, so that would explain what happened a couple of weeks ago then....'

I went out for dinner with M last night and had a brilliant laugh with her catching up and telling stories. She's had some difficult times lately so it was good to spend time together waxing lyrical and putting the world to rights. She was in high spirits by the time we left, as I told her a good bed time story before we headed home and I think it's about time that I shared it with you guys...

Remember The F*ckwit? For anyone not in the know, he's the 'doctor' I dated at the beginning of the year who verbal diarrhead and was all renkin tail with BO on our first date and somehow I actually got convinced to date him more. Anyway, it's time I told you all what the verbal diarrhea was about...

I make no bones about it - I'm a bit innocent - I don't know very much about drugs, crime (unless you count my love of CSI), porn, and even as it turns out, the technicalities of vagina's. I know about crack from watching New Jack City and Chris Rock. For me crack, is the crack in my ass and that's about as close as I have got, which was why it was a shocker when The F*ckwit revealed that his mama was a crackhead! Imagine that we have just met up for the date. We're about five minutes into it when we approach an ATM and he reveals that his dad is a 'criminal' but doesn't say what for. I blink a lot and look bemused. I get the first whiff of BO about twenty minutes later and then he proceeds to vomit out the contents of his life.

When he told me, I actually thought he was taking the piss or that I was on a hidden camera show, but it became very apparent that he was telling the truth. I didn't know what to say. As he regaled me with tales of his mother's drug abuse, I have to admit that I dug deep from the only image reserve that I have and suddenly Ladbroke Grove (this is where he's from) looked like New Jack City and I imagined his mum in a woolly hat, wide eyed, smoking a crack pipe with her mates and then I imagined her working for Wesley Snipes and slipping product into her mouth. I lost track of all his stories and didn't know when to laugh when he told me that his mum had smoked crack with a plumber that came round to do some work and she ended up fighting him because she thought he stole her crack. (He had and he swallowed it in shock when she attacked him)

'She'll be going back to Holloway soon' he said. 'Oh, does she have a friend that lives there?' I asked feeling confused. He looked at me oddly and said 'Holloway, as in the prison'. 'Oh...she has a friend in prison?' I asked. 'NO, she'll be going back inside when they find out she's back on drugs!' he said exasperated. 'Oh....'

Is it wrong to have thought at the time that 1)I don't know how I am going to tell my family about my latest escapade, 2)what if I ever went out with this guy - would I have to meet all of his kooky family?, 3)Does his mum live in a crack den like New Jack City?, 4)How funny would it be if my mum met her? My mum would faint!

Did I mention that a brother was in prison for kidnapping a Chinese student? Another for possession of a loaded weapon? You couldn't make this stuff up if you tried! And through all of this, he became a doctor (you wouldn't believe how many people have asked me if I checked his ID - I did!) The worst part is that in a situation like that, you feel compelled to step back and then you become suffused with the knowledge that you're being a snob and you end up feeling like a heel as you don't want them to think that you think less of them because he has a family hooked on crack and crime. So you date them even though their BO can be smelt thousands of miles away and you snog them because it shuts him up so I don't hear anymore crack tales and fortunately he's a decent snog....

Fortunately I got wise to that boy and ditched him and I shall be spending the rest of the bank holiday with my boyf who got back from Israel yesterday. I shall be having my first glass of wine since August with him tonight and I intend to get tipsy. No work till Tuesday - Yay! Have a fab weekend everybody x

Getting To Know The Boyf

Certain readers, surprise, surprise - it's the boys - are concerned about my sleeping arrangements with the boyf. I would like to be my usual sarcastic self and say that they're inquisitive because they're not getting any themselves, but WDKY, housewives favourite and flasher of pubes most Thursdays, gets more ass than a toilet seat, and Mick has a few kids to show for his activities.... Now I'm a nice girl that went to an all girls private Catholic convent school and would still shit a brick if I saw Sister Mary in the street so all we're doing is holding hands and having a snog...hee hee... To answer the prying Tom's queries, being loved-up means that I do often share a bed with the boyf and there is often some horizontal jogging involved...

Lots of people want to know the exact ins and outs of my relationship but for the sake of my own sanity plus his privacy, I haven't dissected things like I normally would. Normally I can list more faults than a surveyor of a run down property when it comes to guys that I date, but I am delighted to say that almost two months since I met him, I haven't got a bad word to say about him....quite the opposite! I also don't say lots about him because I don't want to come across as one of those people who waffles about their boyfriend constantly and becomes a Siamese twin. So I thought I'd take this rare opportunity to shed some more light...

If I had met him before now, I wonder would I have been ready to be with him as I was on the assclown tip for so long.... I'd had an often entertaining time, but definitely difficult and ambiguous time when I fannied around with the series of guys that I dated that had more baggage than one of the reclaim areas in Heathrow after a flight from Africa. The doctor was the straw that broke the donkey's back and between everything I learnt about myself, plus the complete turnaround in my health and well-being, it's strange the way I met this lovely guy. Who'd have thought that as I played Monopoly and gave him a few sneaky glances that he'd been doing exactly the same thing!? It's even funnier that I met him 3 days after I told the doc to beat it and a day after my mother declared that she was extremely concerned with my love life! I wanted to blog about this guy I'd spotted but because he's friends with MB and you never know who the hell is reading, I didn't want to look like a dick...

The strange thing is that we have been in the same place many times due to us moving in the same circles yet we'd never met before. We've been in touching distance of each other and can recall the 'almost' moments...

I haven't given much info away about him but he's 33, works in IT for something or other in risk investment (I swear I tried to understand what he does) and he is the brother of MB's ex that she went out with for 6 years. There are a load of reasons why we get on so brilliantly and none why we don't (at the moment!) and he's a refreshing, welcome, necessary addition to my life. He's sports obsessed and I was always sure that this would annoy the shit out of me, but it's highly entertaining and it also means that we have our own individual interests. Watching him sit on his coffee table huddled in front of the TV with chin pushed into his fists as he agonizes over football, golf and cricket is hilarious and I feel compelled to give him a cuddle. It's even funnier when he gets up on the crack of dawn to play golf on a lot of Saturday's....

He's a real lad with some top notch mates who are so naughty they make me cry with inappropriate laughter as they take the piss, plus he has introduced me to his mother and we're off to a wedding very soon. How things change! My bro who thinks every guy I've gone out with is a dickhead likes him a lot!

We talk a hell of a lot about anything and everything and we have already managed to find out so much about each other and tell lots of secrets with neither one us judging the other when we've been naughty! We both feel that we can be ourselves and it's blissful. I smile a lot when I'm around him unless I have PMT...and his chilled out nature is contagious. He also laughs as loud as I do and secretly, he has his drama queen moments too! Both of us have the habit of falling asleep in front of the TV and he loves CSI and 24 as much as I do. He's a nice guy with an edge... The main thing is that there is no undercurrent of negativity, neither of us are coming from a dodgy place and everything is really, really good. Of course people will say that it's early days, which it is, but I have given up on the expectation of something bad happening and have embraced and accepted things as being what they are and enjoying it. NML is a happy camper!

Now before I go, I just have to say that I punched the air with delight when Syed got fired in The Apprentice tonight. What a twat! He is actually a walking, talking, penis full of bravado, hot air and ego. He made very good telly though and he's kinda good looking...

PMT Bitch On Wheels (Our First 'Argument')

I should have known when I woke up feeling like the Grinch yesterday that the safe bet would be to stay quiet and hope that the PMT (or is it PMS) storm would pass by. I snuggled under the duvet longer and tried to pretend that I didn't feel vaguely like a tetchy hormonal bitch on wheels. Naturally the boyf noticed and asked me if I was OK or what was wrong. Now maybe he doesn't understand PMT, but in general, asking someone if they're OK a few times makes them think that there is something wrong. Still, we had a good laugh and talked the ears off each other and then headed off to our respective Sunday outings. It was a toss up between dragging myself out in the rain to go to MB's celebration of finishing the marathon, or to go to a funeral home....in my state I was safer in the piss poor weather....

Later, for the second week in a row, I cried at the end of 24, although because I was round at his place, I tried to do bravado like guys do. 'I have dust in my eye....' I muttered. A while later we were laughing and joking when he tickled me, I dodged and somehow my favourite, albeit not very expensive bracelet snapped and fell off my wrist. I may have gone into a high pitch momentarily (OK I did) and he looked bewildered and then said that I was being too upset. The PMT Bitch On Wheels reared it's head and the boyf and I had our first row. My babble consisted of 'I'm pissed off with YOU because YOU said that I said...' and rapidly went downhill from there. He burst out laughing and tried to squeeze me as I don't think he really thought we were having our first row, and of course I ripped his head off for laughing at me and not taking me seriously. Everything he said got misconstrued and my upset wasn't about the bracelet but about him thinking that I was pissed off with him when I was just in a shit hormonal mood - bear with me, it made a lot of sense at the time...

Then he put the boot in, 'NML' he said in that tone which is affectionate but also let's me know he's reigning me in, 'I think you're angry because I'm going to Israel tomorrow but you don't want to say anything. You've been in a strange mood all day.' and he smiled at me. Suddenly I felt tired so I just shut up and turned away from him on the sofa, put my head in the pillow and then a stupid f*cking tear slipped out. I couldn't blame dust this time...

My brain went along the lines of'What the f*ck is wrong with you, you crazy cow? He hasn't really done anything and he's still being nice to you. You're being a wagon.....Yeah but I'm sure he's done something....God I have woeful PMT....I can't trust myself with PMT...Why the f*ck aren't I at home by myself crying over something stupid like South Park?...Oh....yeah 'cause you're mad about your boyfriend and he's away till Friday from tomorrow so get a bleedin' grip!.'

And with that, more rogue tears slipped out and I made sure he couldn't see them. Then I felt myself being dragged across the sofa and being given a cuddle. 'Jesus, so you're not hard as nails all the time then. Aaah, you have a vulnerable side' and I secretly smiled to myself. 'I don't know what the hell I'm crying for...actually I do...I was actually fine till the bracelet fiasco..which I know you think this is what I'm upset about and I'm NOT! I just have woeful PMT but you kept acting as if it was something else but I wasn't telling you..then you laughed at me...and then...AND THEN...AND THEN...you implied that I'M MELODRAMATIC..AND..' and I suddenly had this vision of myself for the previous half hour (Yes, yes and some other times...) and found myself doubled up laughing. I don't mean little laughs but great big chuckles that had me putting my head in my lap as I clutched my sides. Fortunately I could hear him laughing very loudly and I didn't misconstrue it...

I blame the antibiotics I'm on at the moment...I haven't had a bad bout of PMT for ages! Normally I cry over Eastenders, Corrie, even the Simpsons or Pet Rescue

Speaking of Pet Rescue...I am shell shocked as Channel 5, a terrestrial Channel is showing Shaving Private Ryan which actually seems to be a porn programme. I turned for a moment as I typed and I got an eyeful of a woman dishing out BJ's like hot dinners at a shelter.....

And it's hard to believe it, but as of today, I can have alcohol again, albeit only white wine. No red wine or spirits for now...I had a vision of myself running out of the kinesiologists and going to Mo's Tavern and doing a Barney, but I shall save my first drop of alcohol for the weekend when the boyf get's back and I also celebrate the Bro's new job (yay for my bro!). Life is good and it's not PMT tinted today!

Sunshine, Bit Part Racism, Prima Donna's, Va-Va-Vag..and Wind

I've been out for a few hours in just a light cardigan and poncho and it has been gloriously sunny. Do I dare believe that the summer or should I say the very belated spring is on its way? I am a bit concerned though about the fact that people have a tendency to do overkill with the first ray of sunshine. Note that whilst I was dressed with a couple of light layers, a hell of a lot of people were wearing vests and t-shirts showing plenty of skin, some of it a bit scary...I haven't seen so much boob since I stumbled across a dodgy programme on Channel 4 a while back. What is wrong with people? Mind you, I sat waiting on the Tube platform only for a man in a hideous velveteen or some other skanky fabriced top to sit beside me and make my eyes water with his sweat. When the train pulled into the station, I hastily moved down the platform and thought that I was rid of him. Somehow...through my rubbish calculations and a tourist asking him for directions, he turned up two seats away from me, red faced and reeking of wet sweat. Jaysus...I get no peace...

Speaking of peace, there is a special report in today's Guardian about Paranoia, poverty and wild rumours - a journey through BNP country. For anyone not in the know, the British National Party is a 'patriotic' political party that is uber concerned with multiculturalism (having to live with people that aren't English and often not white) and there is apparently 'mounting support' for this political party. As I read the report in my local coffee shop, I found myself cracking up laughing at this para: "One of her colleagues gestures at an empty storefront: 'Something's got to be done. I mean, just look at it.' I ask if they feel uneasy voting for a party with such bigoted views? 'Do you mean they're a racist party?' she says. 'Well, I'm a bit racist myself. It looks like the immigrants are taking over doesn't it? They're getting better treatment.'" Obviously this imbecile needed reassurance that she understood what the word 'bigoted' meant.....How is someone a "bit racist"? It's amazing how people try to rationalise the fact that they're a racist assclown.....

Work has at times been like handbags at dawn this week. This is what happens when you work in media sales - you work with very funny, entertaining...prima donna's. I often visualise what our company would be like say as a comedy sketch when people are talking drivel and imagine people being replaced with large penises working away at their desks. It's one of my favourite daydreams...

I've also drawn the conclusion for a number of reasons that I won't bother 1)to bore you all with and 2)cause my mother to call me up badgering me - that I should have taken that biology class at school because I don't have a clue about vagina's - a word by the way that I'm not keen on as it's not very...feminine. Why is it that each time I have to say it, I say 'va-va-vagina'? I write about dating and relationships, but sex, unless I'm taking the piss out of it, or writing about general stuff that doesn't involve logistics, is not quite my forte. It is me that owns a rabbit vibrator which with 5/6 uses in 18 months has a cost per use of £3-£3.50. I know people who've got their cost per use down to pennies.....Likewise, I am not au fait with the logistics of my nether regions. I think I'm a lot more innocent than I gave myself credit for.....

I had a really nice time on Thursday when the boyf and I had dinner, some chat in a bar followed by The Inside Man, which was quite good. Unfortunately, my taking the piss out of Londoners for their bowel problems came back to haunt me... My stomach has a habit of only playing up when I really don't want it to, like when I went speed dating and ate prawns and something in breadcrumbs and sweet chilli sauce and feared I would have a wind outbreak...fortunately I held it all in and gave myself terrible stomach cramps instead...I developed a crabby stomach as we headed to the Edgeware Road for dinner, and braved on and had peppermint tea, followed by lemonade (as in lemon juice), plus Halloumi cheese, lamb, peppers..you catch my drift. Sweet baby jesus and the orphans! I was in agony with the hive of activity going on in my stomach. Afterwards in the bar, when he returned with a lemon and ginger tea (another effort on my part to settle my stomach), I excused myself to go to the bathroom.

'That's right NML' he said. 'You go and let out that wind!' and I looked at him outraged for even suggesting I would do such a thing and then had a fit of the giggles. Let's just say that when I finally let out the gas, I briefly felt sorry for commuters who get dodgy tummy's and then reminded myself that it was only me that was killing myself with wind fumes.....

I have forsaken a spot of housework for blogging so I shall have to run around like a blue-arsed fly now before I got to meet the boyf. Have fabulous weekends x

Busy Bee

Jaysus I've been mad busy all week between work, acupuncture, catching up with my mate and her kid. I was so tired last night that I actually fell asleep for a few seconds whilst chatting to the boyf on the phone. Oh the shame! It wasn't his conversational skills - it was lying down and feeling very comfy on the bed.

Work has been particularly busy and in between work stuff, I've been taking the piss out of the boss or snickering with PDot and MSlash. In the past couple of days, I've been tetchy with the boss and had my first proper strop in months (he may actually say I've had more...), plus Tina Turner and I had a proper tiff as well, so it's been muchos excitement at work. The boys and I have been snickering and talking in silly voices as usual and got a lot of entertainment out of sending an email to the boss pretending to be a really annoyed colleague. Classic! I was badgering the boss about getting some time off to go for a routine check-up of a sensitive nature and I thought he was going to be difficult about the time and explained that I'm going to the gynaecologist. 'What's a gynaecologist?' he said blankly. 'Mmm..it's a fanny doctor' and he took a bit of a funny turn and got himself into a flap as he spluttered his shock. 'Jesus christ! I didn't need to know that!' he exclaimed. 'I'll take it I have the time off then....' I smirked.

Trying the scare tactic was something that didn't work with my old boss David Brent X 1 Million. If you told him you were sick or needed to go for an appointment, he would ask what for and was completely unfazed by the word 'period' or any illness!

Right, must dash as I have to go meet the boyf as I'm off to the cinema. I've been woeful with comments over the past week or so, but I am reading them, and I will respond when I stop running around like a blue-arsed fly. Speaking of arses, I walked into, not one, not two, but three fart clouds yesterday within minutes at Kings Cross Tube station. London needs a new diet....

Clinging to the Weekend

I think I need four day weekends every frickin week. I have been clinging to Monday like Chantelle from Big Brother has been clinging to fame. I finally accepted that Tuesday was really here when I sat in our weekly sales meeting and the cloud of doom and gloom descended, and I day dreamed about being snuggled under the duvet with the boyfriend and then about how I was going to kick his ass at Jawbreaker and the harder Sudoku's. He handed me the Telegraph on the train this morning and I stared at the far too many blanks and willed my brain to wake up and turn me into Carol Vorderman (TV Maths whiz) on heat. Instead, I feigned an attempt and then handed it back to him resignedly as he cracked up laughing. Some battles I'm not ready to take on...yet...

Other contests include who is the fastest sprinter. Never one to miss an opportunity to take the piss, we had to run for a train on Sunday afternoon and he dashed ahead of me..and it first I did a mini jog and then broke into a sprint and zoomed past him up the stairs. 'What the....' he exclaimed and sped up and caught up with me on the platform where it turned out that the train had left already. 'I can run WAY faster than you!' I proclaimed, putting aside the fact that it wasn't actually strictly true. 'Of course you can darling....' he said agreeably and it occurred to me that he has got wise to my antics.

Work was a hive of excitement (I lie-it was actually alright) but I did have a lot of giggles. One of the worst habits I have developed is mumbling in silly voices which is how I converse with PDot and MSlash. It has now slipped into my general speech when I'm being sarcastic or trying to explain away something that I have done incorrectly. PDot mumbled in his own silly voice this morning that he would have to go to the second floor for his morning #2 because I needed to go to the bathroom (for a #1 of course) and he couldn't cope with the idea of having to go knowing that I was on the other side of the wall. Evidently he doesn't 'perform' under stress.....

I found out that someone that knows me personally but not very well at all had a sneaky undercover read of this blog and for some reason has the misguided idea that I am really into my ex. I think this may have been said however as the person was involved in a pisstaking tale on this blog that they didn't like very much...(oh dear!). This is a blog that thrives on taking the piss, entertainment value and an occasional spot of education from my own jacked up experiences. Mr Brown-Suit makes an occasional appearance because it's part of the past that's very good for taking the piss in the present and I make no apologies for it and take no hostages. I always say that you get what you're looking for and on this occasion the person has bitten off more than they can chew. It's not my fault that funny things happen to me and that I often cry with laughter or at least come close to choking on my own giggles as I clutch at myself. Which reminds me...this morning as I belted it down the escalator at London Bridge, I walked straight into a voluminous cloud of fart which was surrounding the offender in a guilty veil. The people in front of me stopped abruptly which meant that I got trapped in this field dwellers bowel stench. So I just coughed very loudly whilst staring at him, fanned myself and said 'Mercy!' in between coughs very dramatically. Oh dear...

Happy Easter Peeps!

I am on the sofa, swathed in duvet, alone...in my man's apartment.... He headed off to golf over an hour ago and I staggered into the kitchen and quickly downed some Lemsip as I have a really bad sore throat and actually feared that I may lose my voice. Can you imagine me silent? Jaysus! It took about five minutes after he left for me to need to call him as I couldn't figure out how to turn on the cooker. It's one of those bloody induction cookers which work with a touchpad and after thumping every button several times and even hoisting myself up to apply further pressure (I looked like someone doing wrestling moves), speaking to him revealed that I needed to turn on the power...at the mains...oops...

Two mega things happened over this Easter weekend, most of which I have spent with him since Friday - I met his mother (drums please) and he met the Bro, which is almost like introducing him to my dad. It has been YEARS since I have been introduced to a mother and I felt totally fine about it, until the car pulled up at her building and I got a big case of the fear. I haven't felt any apprehension about meeting his mother despite some unsolicited insider info from MB. It's a difficult one as whilst I respect her opinion, it's not good to project your own experiences based on different circumstances. She's lucky that not only do I feel very secure in my relationship, which is unusual to say the least, but having open and honest communication with him means that I was prepared for this conversation with her, albeit caught off guard that it would head into shark infested territory.

Meeting with his mum on Good Friday was a really nice experience. He's not a mummy's boy but it's clear that he and his mum are close, much like the Bro and my mum. I think that's why I'm more than able to 'deal' with his mum because she's not too dissimilar from my mum who thinks that the sun shines out of her sun's arses, but I think the sun shines out my bro's and the boyf's arses, so it's not a big deal. I ate so much food I could barely walk when I left and I found myself genuinely looking forward to meeting her again.

I was very late meeting the Bro who has been having a sober, chilled few days as he has a lot on with work at the moment. I felt dead nervous when I introduced the two of them, but we all slipped into easy conversation and I found that the boyf didn't try to overdo things and listened as the Bro and I caught up. It didn't take long before the Bro was telling us lots of rude, lewd funny stories and at one point as the two of them cracked up laughing, I beamed a big smile and let out a big sigh of relief. I knew that the Bro was cool when he said, 'Er, are you American? You know...it's the accent....' and the boyf looked all shy and explained that he's not. He does sometimes sound a bit American but I think it's from boarding school which seems to give several people I know 'different' accents. The Bro wisecracked, 'Ooooh! Have you been watching too much Seinfeld then?!' and I choked on my drink and wondered if the boyf would step up to the plate and hold his own. 'No....'he replied drily. 'It's more like too many episodes of the Cosby Show....' and we all fell around laughing.

I went to a leaving do on Thursday and so many funny things happened it was ridiculous. Within minutes of arriving, MSlash had to utter the words (jokingly) 'Say that again and I'll glass you in the face' to a loudmouth colleague that slagged off his blog. It was that same loudmouth who had his hard-on photographed as he chatted away to a woman in the bar..... There was also a rather surreal moment when MSlash dropped all his matches on the floor, leant over to pick them up and because Tina Turner was right beside him, it looked like he was doing something very compromising..... The boss had the piss taken out of him a lot because when he saw the pic of the loudmouth with the hard-on, he thought it was himself, panicked and decided that he needed to go on a diet...'Not everything is about you!' I said bitchily. B's boyf John managed to tell us what a big willy he has several times (He still hasn't learnt that those who talk about it more have smaller ones....) and B and I spent some quality time catching up and arguing over who had neglected the other one more. It's all in a night out with my crazy colleagues..................

Enjoy the last remnants of the bank holiday weekend and keep your fingers crossed that I don't lose my voice...I'm going to make a start on my Easter egg and brace myself for a load of waffle about various golf shots when he gets back. He beat my ass at tennis on the Xbox on Friday (you'd have thought I was actually playing tennis for real, and I may have a secret practice so that I can whup his ass next time round...Note to self: must learn how to lose gracefully...

Quick update: Congratulations to two of my closest friends who welcomed baby Callum and Sophia into the world on Saturday night. This double blessing is after six years of a painful struggle to have children and they have finally been extraordinarily blessed. I can't wait to see them when I go back to Dublin in a few weeks. Baby Gap here I come!

Unhooked Generation

I spent last night with my man (I had 2 names and changed my mind with both) and we had a really good, simple evening in a bar overlooking a marina in Tower Hill. We sank into the big comfy sofa's and found ourselves talking for hours without even realising it, even forgetting about eating until we realised that we'd been talking for over 3 hours. There were a few times when we grinned at each other through the evening because we were having such a good time in each other's company.

I was sent a copy of Unhooked Generation (all about why people are still single) to review recently and have been reading it over the past week or so. It's been a good read although some parts of it seem like more acute American issues such as the huge amount of online dating and how people date (where do they find the time to surf the net, shag relentlessy and multiple date I'll never know....). The author interviewed 100 people about dating and relationships, and as I read some of the stuff that people came up with for their reasons for ending a relationship or not dating someone, I cringed either for myself or other people I knew who'd done the same, but also thought that people must have a really over inflated view of themselves in some respect, as that could be the only explanation for many of their inflated, sometimes conflicting expectations that make them think that there is this perfect person who mustn't expect perfection out of them, that fits every last waking criteria and can be potentially found on the internet........and without any effort to maintain the relationship.. if they screw up, not to worry...there's plenty more fish in the sea and they obviously weren't worth it anyway....oh and he should have a big dick and lots of money...or big boobs, a great shag but virginal...

I didn't feel like I got any overwhelming new revelations until I started the last chapter last night on the way to meet my guy last night and found myself startled by this sudden clarity. I'm lucky that I copped onto a lot of things about relationships and my own interaction before I started reading this book, but the last chapter solidified and verbalised a number of underlying thoughts. I've always said that things land squarely back at your own feet when it comes to figuring out why we do what we do, but reading about taking responsibility for what you did that cocked up your own relationships and what you could have done different was an eye opener.

I shouldn't be with any of my exes but as I read that chapter it occured to me that I could have done a few things differently. Other than actually not being with the assclowns (I can never resist a wisecrack), I don't think that my own actions helped the situations and in actual fact they just amplified everything that was wrong. I obviously wasn't that happy within myself when I took up with these guys and all they did was reaffirm what I already felt about myself, which means that things had to end. I'd play along for a while and go meek and mild (actually is possible with me), and then be myself and it was almost like rising up out of the ashes. Things would end in a spectacular fashion, and I have no desire to be like that again!

One June lunchtime in 2003, I packed up all of my stuff and left the guy I lived with and was engaged to. It wasn't a sudden thing and it was the right to do, but walking out like that was a pretty hurtful way to do things, no matter what we'd been through and no matter how much of an assclown I thought he was. Three years before, I headed off to Fort Lauderdale and left the boyfriend of almost two years that I should have left at least a year before behind. He'd hurt me in various different ways and I met someone else in Florida, started dating him and then the Dublin boyfriend arrived for 3 weeks unexpectedly. It took 4 days for the showdown to happen and he went back a different person, minus a girlfriend and with a suitcase full of home truths. I did feel really bad about things after a few months of letting two years of anger subside and I made my peace with him (he later proposed to me and harassed me for 5 weeks.......we no longer speak.....). The one I effectively left him for turned out to be an obnoxious alco and I left him in Florida and soon after moved to London. I think for a few years I left a trail of destruction with all this carry-on and it's only after the ex-fiance that I stopped 'running'. A few unavailable men as I went through an extended phase of abject fear of commitment and finally, I got a clue. How exhausting!

Quite frankly it took writing most days for almost two years on this blog and elsewhere about dating and relationships, to be confronted with my own truth. When you put your love life (or lack of it) under the spotlight, it's difficult to shy from the truth. Even after I realised what I was doing, it took a few more dodgy experiences, most recently with The Fuckwit to drive the point home. The worst thing is, I always knew what would happen as my gut feeling and the overall way I felt in these situations was always led with an undercurrent of anxiety and a certainty that things were very wrong. Like a lot of self-help/relationship books, a lot of Unhooked Generation is common sense...it's just that people evidently don't have a lot of that otherwise we wouldn't have half the issues we're talking about. It's definitely well worth a read but do try not to make funny faces when she goes out of her way to describe each interviewees looks or personality. The woman has been on an adjective spree!

Someone asked me how I got my head straight and I wisecracked 'Some cheap therapy via the blog and seeing my own house of horrors in writing. Reading about your own shite taste in men is enough to either turn you on to the right guys....or turn you onto women...'.

In Remission

'So tell me NML, where have they been putting the needles?' asked my consultant and I immediately felt myself heating up in the face and becoming flustered.
'I...er...well....I've had needles in my feet, my legs, my back, here near my ears, here on the bridge of my nose' I said pointing to the places and watching as he winced with the student doctor.'And...er...hold on let me look away from you whilst I say this.....and my coccyx...and..er..' and all of a sudden my mind went blank and I felt confused about biology term. 'And..er...the bit between the anus and va..va..vagina' I rushed out.

I turned to look at them and the student doctor smiled at me and I cracked up laughing. The consultant just looked shocked for a few moments. 'Well....I hope that it's helping with your symptoms....' and coughed to diffuse the embarrassing moment.

The good news is that it appears that I am in remission and I don't have to go back to hospital for 6 months, unless something goes awry in the meantime. I do have spots on my lungs which is basically scars and they will monitor to see what changes there are as these will limit the capacity of my lungs. If joint pain starts up or continues in the medium term, I will have to see a joint specialist. The only other thing that will be checked is my blood which I did a sample for and ended up nearly screaming the room down. Every frickin person in North London must have been having a blood test yesterday as I had to wait almost 90 minutes whilst people tried to choke me out with their hospital farts. I know people are ill and everything but f*cking hell! I nearly threw up on myself and I was too afraid to tell the old lady off, so instead fanned myself and moved to the next farter. Eventually I found a fart free seat. Anyway, I digress...

When the nurse (or whatever he was) strapped up my left arm, the pain was awful for about a minute and I kicked my feet about like an actor in a bad teen horror movie. 'Bloody hell! That HURTS!' I yelled at him. 'Actually I can't find your vein as it's too small....' he said quietly. 'WHAT!!!!????' I roared and he quickly switched arms and took the blood with minimal pain from my right arm. I spent the rest of the day with a light head and a throbbing left arm which had more blood on the cotton wool than the one that had actually had the blood removed. Dickhead! PDot is scared of blood and needles so I hung my arm over his head and flashed the cotton wool at him. Classic!

Acupuncture was not too traumatic with needles in my back and feet which made me feel weird. Every session throws out some odd symptoms for the days that follow and I currently have a very badly swollen gland on the left side of my face and it's painful to eat. I'm too afraid to mention this to my nutbags colleagues as they will say something crass about not being able to fit much in my mouth......

I'm seeing my man this evening and I still haven't thought of a name for him. He told me that he went to bed late last night because he was watching a football match from 1999 and I was taking the piss out of him. I've been asked quite a few times how much I like him and so whilst I'm not going to be making any declarations, for fear of looking like a dick, I will say that I like him a LOT. And...he must like me a lot (actually I know he does as he told me)..because I'm going to a wedding with him next month. I haven't been to a wedding with a guy for a few years and it feels like such a couple thing to do. I'm really looking forward to it although it does mean that I will be meeting his mother (Cue The Omen music). Nah, I'm joking, but that will be an interesting experience which I will HAVE to blog about!

It's good to be at a good place in life. My health is on the up (touch wood, touch wood, TOUCH WOOD!), I am feeling at ease and happy with myself, feeling very positive and feeling very happy with the boyfriend. It's funny how things have come together at the same time....keep touching wood for me though (boys I mean actual wood, not your willies)....

Footie Explosion

I must really like my guy as I have listened to and watched more football and golf today than I have in the last few years. Well....when I say 'watched', he watched it and I got on with my own thing, although I did find myself being drawn in for the Man U game. I tried not to snicker as he looked genuinely stressed out and nervous in parts. Apparently it's not the done thing to utter the words 'It's just a game.....'

It's amazing how things change in a matter of weeks, none of it bad. When we were out last night at a birthday, I tried not to grin too much when asked about how things are going with him. I've given up looking out for something really bad to happen as that takes all the fun out of it. So far...so good....there hasn't been one bad moment, and my eyes are wide open for a red flag and still, nothing. Again, he's not perfect. Any man who watches as much sport as he does and gets up every Saturday to play golf is bound to have typical male qualities that annoy, but for some reason I find them rather funny, plus he likes my analysis of male behaviour. I relinquished watching Everybody Hates Chris tonight for his precious Dream Team, but I plan to be calling in favours for a while......

Did I mention that I'm in love? Yes, I got TV Drive installed by Telewest yesterday and I will never have to miss a thing ever again. I don't watch a huge amount of TV, but I do have my staple of shows that I hate to miss such as The Apprentice (gutted that there isn't someone as hot as Tim in this year), Everybody Hates Chris and 24. 80G of harddrive that records two programmes at the same time, whilst letting you watch another, plus I can do the whole pausing live programmes and rewinding back. I woke up late yesterday and got up in a daze, had my breakfast and let the Telewest guy in a while later. He smiled to himself when he came in and I realised that the Ronald McDonald style stripey kiddie slipper socks, the night dress just above the knee, the cream cardigan, glasses and pony tail may have looked more than a little odd...

'Can I use your toilet?' he asked a while later. 'Yes, but no number two's because the last time I had a Telewest guy here, I couldn't go in my own bathroom for over two hours!'

It was quite funny at the birthday get-together last night, which was for my guy's cousin, who is also best friend's with MB. The birthday boy is camper than a field of tents and we found ourselves trying not to stare at one of his friends who looked like an extra that forgot to get changed from Madonna's Vogue video shoot. Dressed in all in black, in narrow satin trousers, pointy shoes, and a far too long ill-fitting suit jacket over his see-through sparkly mesh top, with blond hair combed back a la Madonna, the first hour was spent wondering if he was a man or a woman. He was so groomed, I bet his pubic hairs were combed and geled down to perfection. His milky pale skin really accentuated his black outfit and I wondered what role he was playing in his mind, because his body language gave me the impression he was 'acting'. When I heard him speak and he sounded like Arnold Schwarznegger, I clung to M, buried my face in her shoulder and smothered my giggles, which only made her laugh even harder.

My guy displayed typical male behaviour when we decided to go to a club and he claimed to know the way. I actually said to him, in front of M and MB that men very often don't know the way and he insisted that he was brilliant at directions. Within moments of setting off in the car, this was called into question, as he debated with himself about whether we should do left or rights, and we eventually ended up at the wrong square. He buried his head as he got berated by us girls. He had us doubled up laughing as he tried to come up with excuses and after I snatched the A-Z and directed us successfully to our destination, he tried to take over towards the end and tried to take partial credit. Naturally I was rather pleased with myself as between all of us, and the only non-driver, I'm officially the only one of us that a) knows how to read a map and b) knows my way around London....

I'm off to hospital in the morning for my 3 month check up so keep your fingers crossed that they don't try to pee on my parade by telling me that I'm sick and need steroids....

Right, I'm off to bed. Match of the Day is over, which means that it is safe for us to go to bed. God knows why men need to watch the highlights after watching the match.....

Tossers & Teasers

I met up with my boy NK and some of the girls for dinner last night at Wagamama's, which is perfect for London get-together's over noodles and raw juices. NK proved that having a live-in girlfriend has not taught him the art of dealing with women, when his girlfriend said she was going to head home as she wasn't feeling too great. He leaned in theatrically in gossipy mode and mouthed 'Time of the month' and waved his hand semi-camply, and I snickered as I caught his girlfriend giving him the filthiest look. 'I'll take it you'll be in the dog-house later' I said and the girls laughed at him and he quickly laughed off the brief look of fear. Mind you, he used to have his 'time of the month' when we worked together and it would be handbags at dawn as we tried not to kill each other.

Afterwards we went into one of the bars in Canary Wharf and I have to say that I'm sure it's not reflective of every financial district in the world, but I have never had the 'privilege' of spending time with so many pricks. Men that think or know that they are good looking are a danger to themselves and the public, but men who compensate for lack of height, penis size, looks or personality, by talking very loudly about closing big deals, how much money they have and what they spend iton, whilst being complete tossers in general make my eyes bleed. As we stood at the bar waiting to be served, two of us got pushed and shoved by some of them as they were already lairy at 8.30pm. My friend told them that there was no need to push and for the next ten minutes we had to listen to them trying to be smart arses. 'Is it OK if we stand here? Your friend has already told us off' one said. When I ignored him, he kept badgering me and repeating variations of the same thing. 'Get lost!' I hissed at him. 'Hey BRO...is it OK if we push in here?' he asked NK.

'We don't speak English, you know...' he said tugging at my shoulder and they laughed at their silly joke. 'We speak dwunk!' and they laughed that silly English yah-yah tosser laugh. 'We're not pushing you are you?' he said to me and I turned to him and mustered up as nasty a look as I could and said 'F*CK. OFF. Do you understand THAT?!' and he stepped away from me and I didn't hear another peep out of him whilst we waited.

We sat outside under the heaters gossiping until the cold threatened to cause my knees to ache so much I thought I'd have to crawl on my hands and knees to the tube. I had the piss taken out of me a lot as apparently I am 'girlie' and 'coy' when questioned about the man in my life. Now bearing in mind that I was being interrogated by pro-gossipers, plus NK was watching me with his beady little eye, it's no wonder I went a bit funny. So I got my own back by taking the piss out of NK about being all loved up to balance things out. When we're together, we get reminded of our 'youth' when our biggest concerns were what we could argue about, mimicing MJ videos at our desk and playing pranks on David Brent X 1 Million.

Lookalike fever has taken over my company. I think it was supposed to be something to liven up the place a little and the contest was started slowly and now people realise that they can use it to take the piss out of everyone. The noticeboard on our floor has been completely covered, with one person being put up as Noddy, an Oompa Lumpa, Pierce Brosnan ( I think he did that one himself), a chimp, Woody from Toy Story and Wayne Rooney. I have been entered as Betty Boop, which is OK considering some of the downright scary comparisons I have seen. PDot has been put in as an ape from Planet of the Apes and The Incredible Hulk, plus I put him in as PDiddy (yes I know he's white).

MSlash and PDot have decided to go-it-alone like Joey in Friends and start their own blog which means that they can stop pestering me as they have their own corner of the blogosphere now. I think MSlash was in a state of excitement about his venture into the blog world because after storming off to bed at 7.30pm last night (seriously, who knew boys were so bitchy!?), he got up early to quell his blogging fever and post. Ahhh...newbies!

I'm in a very good mood as the man (still can't think of a name) is back. Yay! I had a Monk-e card waiting for me this morning where the monkey told me in his Stephen Hawkins type voice that he was on a plane headed for home and some other anecdotes. It was hilarious! I spoke with him (actually him, not the monkey) a little while ago and it's good to have him back. I'm not sure exactly what I'm up to this weekend, but I shall be spending a lot of it with him! On that note, have fabulous weekends!

Editor's note: I intend to catch up on comments this weekend, I swear!

Midweek Giggles and Caught In The Act

I had a team night out with my crackerjack colleagues and my stomach is still churning from laughter. I knew it was going to be funny when I walked out of our building to meet everyone and saw MSlash and PDot standing beside each other in jeans and t-shirts, despite the fact that it's one of the coldest April's I remember for a while. We watched them walk up the street together and ended up taking the piss out of them for looking like a couple. MSlash was completely unbothered but PDot glanced at the two of them and realised how synchronised they looked. They don't help themselves by going to the toilet together, standing together, and then dressing alike - a jacket could've broken things up a little.... My wisecracking about couples and flirtation got out of hand later in the evening when two of my female colleagues kept swatting each other and giggling.

Tina Turner and I were waiting for people as we prepared to leave the restaurant for the pub, when the two female colleagues started the swotting and giggling. 'I keep thinking those two are flirting with each other!' I wisecracked at Tina and she cackled away and said, 'I know! I was just thinking the same thing!' and we both started laughing and clutching at each other. Now I know they don't fancy each other, but if that was a guy and a girl, I would definitely have thought there was flirting going on. I thought I would go outside to get over my fit of the giggles and made my bid for freedom. As I pushed open the door, I felt an arm grip me. 'What did you just say?' and I turned to find one of the 'swatters'. I didn't know whether to puke with laughter or die of mortification. I couldn't believe she'd heard us taking the piss, so I fessed up and told her that we'd been wisecracking about her flirting and out of the corner of my eye, Tina was now doubled up laughing and I was trying so hard not to laugh. 'Honestly, we're only taking the piss!' I said. 'PDot and MSlash have been having the piss taken out of them all night for looking like the odd couple' and I looked out the window to see PDot shivering on the pavement in his t-shirt that looked like a football shirt and MSlash standing beside him, trying to look 'street'.

When we got outside, Tina and I had to hang behind whilst I choked with laughter at my being caught out taking the piss. It was one of those rare moments when Tina and I were in agreement about something, although we had spent the previous few hours trading insults. 'Tina, are you wearing a growler grazer this evening?';'NML, you're just jealous because you don't have a boyfriend' (My colleagues loved correcting her on that one!);'Tina, is the reason why you're so happy because a)you sold something, b) you got some from your boyfriend, or c) because you're looking forward to being in my company?'

It's only on our team night out where blowjobs, nob cheese, pregnant sex, poo, periods, plus crackheads and criminals would get talked about!

Yesterday I uttered the words, 'If you dare to get in a strop with me, I will write about you on the blog!' Yes, this ominous threat was made to MBF. The conversation started out as a work related one, and somehow I found myself being asked about my current lovelife and being asked if I am 'seeing' someone. When I said that I was, he got a bit funny with me on the phone. Naturally, because it's an uncomfortable moment and because, well I can't help myself, I put the boot in by taking the piss out of him. When he conveyed that he was a little uncomfortable with the conversation, I replied 'Tough titties!'. That seemed to do the trick!

I am seriously concerned about this whole doing number two's at work and having to be traumatised with the intricate details of people's bowel routines. If I win the lottery, I will send my whole office for a colonic irrigation and buy them a lifetime supply of Pepto Bismol. For the special chosen few (likely to be several of my teammates), I will hire Dr Gillian McKeith so I can laugh as she puts them on a diet of seeds and berries and berates them over their poos.....

AA, one of the boys on my team, said to me on the way home this evening 'NML, this new boyfriend of yours must be really special. I always thought that any guy that makes it to being your boyfriend would have to be pretty amazing because it takes a lot to make you happy.' Seriously, men do talk pure doo doo sometimes!

I'm Getting Myself Back (Touch Wood)

It's Monday so I had acupuncture earlier and fortunately this time it didn't involve me taking off my knickers. Hallelujah! Instead though, I did get needles into the top of my jaw (external on the cheek) and on either side of the bridge of my nose. The one in the nose was weird and I was warned that I would want to cry, but instead that giggling hysteria thing kicked in. I felt like I wanted to burst into tears, and a few trickled out, but then I kept gurgling with laughter. 'Do you not cry very often?' my acupuncturist asked. 'Um...well...I do cry...but I guess not very often. I haven't had a boyfriend for a long time!' and she had to stop what she was doing she was laughing so hard. 'So you need a man to cry?' she asked in between gasping laughs. 'Well they tend to do the trick. Either that, or a an emotional moment when I have PMT!'

It was my 6th session tonight and even though I thought that the changes have been subtle, you wouldn't believe how different I already feel. I have more energy than I've had for over two years, and I feel more at ease and don't have that sense of anxiety and malaise that has plagued me for almost 4 years. I'm starting to feel normal, instead of secretly sick or awful. I don't have to fit in with everyone when I'm secretly in pain or desperately tired, because that's happening infrequently instead of me feeling like shite being the status quo. I still have the odd off day and the changing of energy does throw out the odd strange thing like a sty in my eye, but that's part of the initial rocky process of acupuncture and I can live with that, because at least I'm trying and I am already moving positively ahead. I'm not cured (There is no cure but I just want to go into remission), and I'm not claiming that acupuncture is this life saving thing that everyone should do, but for me personally, already it's giving me back my life and giving me back myself. Touch wood that this continues - Two years ago, I was shitting it that I was going to go blind or have really reduced sight, or end up not being able to walk around, so I'm thankful that I even have this amount of quality of life. My health is expensive, but it's been well worth it to take a chance and spend the money and I'm just very grateful that I'm OK - like people always say, it could be worse!

Last night I got into a silly conversation with my man based on one of my pisstakes that got misinterpreted. We didn't have a disagreement, but we were snickering away when he started his explanation of his misintepretation with 'Is this going to go on the blog by the way?' It was a very minor thing (I did a pinky swear that I wouldn't say and the funniest thing is that it's so ridiculous it's funny), but his male pride (I mean actual pride, not penis) flared up momentarily and we had a ridiculous few minutes with a discussion that went something along the lines of 'So you think that I think that you think that the [minor] thing is a reflection of you?' I asked and we came up with silly lines and I managed to turn it round where I pretended that I wasn't speaking to him. 'What are you pretending that you're annoyed for?' he asked. 'I'm not speaking to you because you think that I actually meant the joke about the [minor thing] which means that you think, that I think, that you think like that, which means that you think, that I think in a funny way about the [minor thing]....' I trailed off as I hadn't a clue what I was talking about. 'NML, what the hell are you talking about?' and we giggled away to ourselves and went back to quiet rambling conversation that sometimes went deep and sometimes was so funny, we were doubled up laughing.

He's gone away again for work this evening but he'll be back on Friday - yay! Much as I will miss him, and trust me, I will, these few days will let me slip back into my routine. Boyfriend + me = time management! Who knew that boyfriends take up so much time? All of a sudden, I have to 'juggle' diaries, weekends are tres busy and I said 'we' when I spoke about Easter today and felt like a right dick. I mean seriously, I've had a boyfriend for all of a wet week and I've turned into one of those people that says 'we this' and 'we that'. Actually, that's a gross exaggeration - I said it once and checked myself. Fortunately we're both quite independent, so I don't think that we'll be turning into a Siamese couple anytime soon. I always said that people could get an AK47 and shoot me if I turned into one of those types (I thought assclown types would be too harsh here), and I'd like to live for much longer thank you very much! What would help is if people stop being so excitable about me being in a couple? 'Have you nothing better to do with your lives?' I roared at my two pregnant colleagues this morning after they quizzed me about him and cooed, and oohed and made rather loud noises (I'm sensing lack of sex with them...). 'Mind your own business' I snapped at MSlash when he asked me if sex was the cause of a glow that I'm sure he has made up.

Poo has also been at the forefront of my day - I'm going out with my very own PDot. Yes, I think they have the same bathroom habits, as I discovered when we had a brief conversation which involved poo's at work and a newspaper! I looked at him horrified! 'I don't bleedin' believe this! It's like going out with frickin PDot!' and he laughed at me confused. 'Who's PDot?' he asked. 'The other wannabe gangsta that I sit with that has routine poo's and always goes with a newspaper or some form of media.' He cracked up laughing. 'Yeah, I don't know what was wrong with me on Friday - I went four times!' and I swooned in the car beside him as he continued to mutter about going to the bathroom and me being melodramatic. Later, Small Mad Girl and I were minding our own business, when PDot went to the trouble of saying, 'Ooh, I've had to go to the toilet a few times! I had fajita's last night!' and proceeded to regale us with microscopic info about his dodgy tummy. This is my lot in life - to be surrounded by men that value a newspaper, the cubicle and a routine poo. Jaysus!

Editors note - I know I have comments to catch up on! And blog reading! I'm getting there I promise! I must, I must, I must improve my time management!

Class of 95

I don't know what image I thought people had of me in their mind, or what they thought I had been up to, but when I rocked up to my school reunion last night I was in for a surprise. As soon as I walked through the door, the teachers were cooing over me and expressing their delight at me 'travelling over' for the reunion. I thought it was a bit odd that they thought it was such a big deal but thought nothing further of it.

One of the first people I saw was my old buddy from first year who was also my neighbour. 'I heard you had a baby and are married and living in Texas!' she exclaimed. What.The. F*ck. Naturally I corrected her very quickly and we were in stitches laughing taking the piss out of each and catching up on each others lives.

I was ecstatic when I got to throw my arms around one of my dearest friends from school who I lost touch with before I moved away. Within moments she told me about her 16 month old little boy and whipped out pictures of him. 'Tell me about your baby!' she cooed. Oh f*ck! At least she realised that I live in London! She was gutted when I told her that there is no husband and baby. She had already been dreaming about visiting and us pushing our kids together through the park. I told my mum about it later and I said she should feel comforted because the Class of 95 all thought she was a grandmother!

It was really good fun going to the reunion and it would have been criminal to miss it. Most of us look the same as when we left school almost 11 years ago - yes it is almost that long! My buddies are just the same, albeit older, wiser and a bit more settled, but still really good fun. We reminisced about raiding the nuns pantry, me playing the black card when I got accused - "You do know that you can't hold me for everything that goes wrong in this school just because I'm black!", boys we snogged who are now married, and we've reconnected and we're definitely going to stay in touch.

There was a serious absence of dodgy perms, which caused me to have trouble recognising some people, plus I had a mega struggle with some names and tried not to look blank as I stretched my brain to come up with them. Some people were like 'auld ones' or 'old ones' - very 'mature' and I will admit that there were some who had a face on them like a smacked arse who could do with a good 'ride' so that they could crack a smile! The other rumour of concern is that I've had a boob job. Some people's boobs have grown in the 11 year absence, and whilst mine have grown a little, they have been a good size since I was 16, but my schoolfriends seem to have forgotten that. After calling them silly cows, I pulled open the cardigan and one of them said 'F*cking hell! Put them away before you blind me!' and the other said 'Definitely a boob job you cow!' They are all real and they're just jealous because the moment they stop taking the pill, it'll be downhill from there!

I got back to London on a horrendously early flight this morning and have spent the day with 'The Man Who Is Yet To Be Named'. I have been fed and watered, plus I passed out on his far too comfortable sofa this afternoon whilst he watched football. 'So did you feel a bit left out with all the marriage and baby talk?' he asked as we made brunch. 'A little.' I admitted and we laughed at the quirks of spending time with very coupled people. He's doing a 'list' of things he needs to do in his apartment and I mentioned that a new toaster needs to go on the list. 'I take it that would be the wedding list...' he quipped. The threat of getting a wallop with the saucepan seemed to put an end to the wisecracking....

'Make sure that if you want him, you nab him!' she says. 'And remember, always look good for your man and don't become complacent. They don't want to see you with your hair tied up in a scarf. Remember what I said: stay looking good!' to which I replied, 'Ma, are you trying to give me seduction tips?'

Which reminds me - I have to go. The Man Who Is Yet To Be Named has waited patiently whilst I updated the blog. Oh and I shall catch up on comments tomorrow! I must, I must, I must seduce my man ;-)