Put That Beaver Away/Wild Time With The Irish Aunties and Mammies in Ibiza

The holiday got off to a fabulous start when Cass and I got absolutely legless before we even got on the flight. I decided to have some dinner to settle my hangover in the airport and swore I'd only have one glass of wine. Two hours later Cass and I were falling around laughing at the departure gate and the poor boyf couldn't make head or tail of what I was saying to him down the phone. After a dodgy moonwalk in the aisle of the plane, I passed out as soon as the plane took off.

When we arrived in Es Cana in Ibiza, it turned out that we couldn't check in till flipping 12pm the next day and it was now 4am. Luckily FiFi the bride to be turned up in reception and we ended up having to sleep in her room with her very a drunk husband to be. 'Foooking shut up!' was the first words he said to Cass and I were snickering in the bed. 'Ah shut up!' Cass wisecracked. 'This could beyour last chance to have 3 women in a bedroom with ya!'

Now I must explain that we are all here for a week and it's like FiFi has brought everyone in the neighborhood with her which means there are a load of aunties and mammies with her. Now these make me nervous because the last time I was on a hen night with Irish aunties, one of them tried to start on me! She whipped out her very large muffin (gut hanging over) in a bar and I must have winced and next thing you know I hear her saying 'What the f*ck you looking at you skinny bitch?!' and I just blinked a lot. 'Come on then! .....F*cking skinny bitch'.....

Naturally I'm wary of hen nights...

So of course when we got down to the beach yesterday afternoon and one of the older women from the neighborhood pulled down her bikini bottoms to show us her homemade Brazilian, I nearly died of shock! All you hear is a load of Irish women screaming the heads off, Cass trying to cover her face and me saying accidentally out loud 'I'm traumatised! I'm traumatised!' She then says with a big cackle 'I've left just enough hair on it to cover the eye of the storm!' Oh my jaysus! I eyed the little tuft of hair through my fingers that covered my face and wondered what an earth had weathered that storm for over 60 years....

We had the hen night last night and it was wild. We went to a local bar where FiFi kitted out in one of those skangy L Plates and a veil celebrated her last few days of 'freedom' in style. Her granny was there pulling up people's skirts and tearing up the dancefloor. Cass and I spent the evening petrified that that woman would whip out her beaver again. Later I drunkenly said 'If you don't sing karaoke you have to walk back to the hotel naked...except for you..'I said eyeing her warily. All the aunties and mammies started laughing and recounting the beaver episode and I said 'Ladies, I think I have post traumatic stress. What will you be showing me next? Your asshole!? My ma will be calling child services when I get back!'

I got in trouble with the management for messing with the DJ box and the TV. We didn't like the music so I snuck up to the computer and changed it. Next thing you know the DJ reappears and changes it. So as soon as his back was turned I did it again. Then he turned it off and put it on VH1 Classics on the TV, so I sneaked over and changed it to MTV Base so we could all grind up. Then they started waffling about too much noise and the po-lice so I took everyone off to the karaoke next door.

I knew I was wasted when I was dancing in the middle of the floor in the bridal veil to Billie Jean. I finished off the dance by taking the veil off and dragging it between my legs for theatrical dance moves. FiFi's ma shouted 'NML! Don't be getting beaver on the veil!'

I must post a pic of me in the veil when I get back....

The whole night was full of mooning, breast grabbing, singing, and shouting. Some of us decided to depart back to the hotel and because Cass and one of the girls weren't walking fast enough, FiFi's ma got us to moon at them. We thought we were on our own and a bar worker appeared from nowhere 'Hola!' he said with a massive grin on his face. 'FiFi's Ma!' I shouted. 'Are you wearing a girdle?'

Oh and I forgot to mention that I also rode one of those rodeo bulls...today I feel like I have been ridden ragged and my thighs are sore!

OK must dash! The beach is calling me! Hope you're having fun weekends :-)

Ibiza Here I Come

Where does the bloody week go!? Lo and behold, it's Friday, I'm so hungover it feels like someone is tap dancing all over my stomach in a pair of stilletos and I've had to suffer a woeful case of bubble guts all day...ugh! On top of that, I had to stagger out of bed before 7am (woe betide me) to pack my bags. Yes despite shooting out the gate with a flying start earlier this week, I actually packed this morning. I had enough clothes for a month and I've managed to whittle it down to about 1.5 to 2 weeks of clothes. I couldn't decide what to wear for the wedding so I have 3 outfits, I didn't have time to see if my boobs still fit in every bikini and whether my booty has grown any further so I took all of the bikinis, plus countless other 'essential' items.

Everyone thinks I'm going raving - I swear I intend to behave myself and only have 2 or 3 nights of going wild, but I am going with the gang from Dublin so who knows how much trouble we'll cause. These are my university friends from Dublin - FiFi, the bride to be, Beaver - tomboy extraordinaire and bossy boots and Cass - my partying buddy and partner in crime. Last time we all went away together was 7 years ago for two weeks in Turkey.

We were known by all the locals as The Spice Girls...I had to be Black Spice...original....
I was known as a trouble maker for taking the piss out of the locals - eg. One of the waiters would give massages to customers and when he did it to me, I made screaming noises and claimed he'd cracked a bone in my neck....
Because two of the girls had fellas in and out of our apartments, the manager told us that we were known as the 'whores' - cheeky bastard...
For revenge Cass and I got blind drunk, stood on the tables and sang opera for more than two hours....
We have a picture of Cass throwing up in the pot...
We discovered that I fit in a suitcase...
We used to practically beat the shit out of each other to get in the bathroom because we had such bad stomachs...
I had an 'attack' whilst out getting drunk and I had to rush from the dancefloor, run down the stairs, out to the side, up the stairs, across a room, down the stairs and thump the door to be let into the toilet. Let's just say that it was like that horrendous moment in Dumb and Dumber...
I bumped in to the fella I pulled on the holiday when I found out he worked two floors below me. Jaysus...talk about avoidance!


OK Peeps! I hope to do one update whilst I'm away. I guarantee that it's going to be nuts! Have a great week

x

Moth Dodging/Falsely Accused/Packing Dilemnas/Family Drama

1. I have nearly broken my neck over a poxy moth. I'm not good with insects but living alone has meant that I have improved to an extent although lets put aside the time I nearly broke my neck in the shower trying to dodge a daddy long legs.... On spotting the moth, I kicked my feet and flailed my arms in panic, ducked, squirmed, screamed and then landed arse over tit on the floor when I fell off the sofa. Note to self: must learn to cope better with animals or keep the vacuum cleaner closer....

2. I told my whole team to F off this morning as I was falsely accused of a crime I did not commit...this time. 'Someone' sent an email which appeared to be from my boss telling us that we could finish at 4.30 for the match. Now I know I have 'form' for this type of carry-on but I resent everyone assuming that I am guilty of the crime instead of some of my other comrades. I do believe I uttered the words to my boss 'Be careful I don't send an email to HR about racial profiling...' Hee hee...

3. I have started packing my stuff as I head off to Ibiza for a week on Friday night (Ooh, did I mention I'm off for a jaunt and a wedding?) Anyway, I've decided to pack light but already in the pile of clothes I have set aside, I have 8 bikini's put aside. Can I leave the country with only 3 pairs of shoes or will I need to take 5? How many bra's can I realistically wear if I actually live in bikini's for most of the time? Oh dear...such choice...

4. The packing has also started for the big move to the boyf's which will be happening sometime in the next few weeks. I have 3 piles of clothes to sort 1) One Day I'll Figure Out How to Sell on Ebay, 2) One Day I'll Remember to Take These to the Charity Shop and 3) These Underwear and Pyjama's Must Be Exterminated

5. 'I need to speak to you about some organisational stuff' says the boyf. 'Are we gonna become one of those dry shite couples that talk about houses and furniture?' I demanded. 'If you'd let me finish...I was gonna say that I can come round tomorrow but I have to drive back home but I'll stay over on Thursday' he replies patiently. 'Oh....' I trail off.

6. Me: Can you please behave yourself for two more frigging weeks for the sake of all our sanities?
20 Yr Old Bro: Um..yeah...um...she's driving me f*cking insane
Me: And that's another thing...even at almost 29 I still can't swear at mum you cheeky git!
20 Yr Old Bro: Yeah...well when I heard her complaining about me on the phone nd describing me as mixed race to the police. Couldn't she have just described me as her son?
Me: That's probably so that they can identify you easily.... and she was probably talking to the speaking clock...

Doing The Nasty/Bedtime Story

The boyf and I were lying in bed last night snuggling and talking when I dropped in 'So, do you think that your mum and her boyfriend were doing the nasty earlier?' We had called in and they had been getting ready to go out, and I had an attack of the giggles as we waited for them at the notion that we may have interrupted something but the boyf was oblivious. We actually hadn't interrupted anything but I enjoyed playing with his mind. He froze at my question and said they weren't. 'Do you think that you think that because you can't contemplate the alternative?' I said smirking. He froze again and then started making weird screaming and wailing noises and clutching me in fear. I had to assure him that I was just taking the piss so that he didn't have nightmares...oh dear...

World Cup Pranks & Bitchiness

It was great to finish work early yesterday so that we could have a world cup party in a pub in Soho. Arguments ensued hours before because the boss wanted people to take it in turns to stand at the door and greet guests (we had clients attending) but people were telling him to get knotted because they wanted to get drunk and watch the match. I took things to a new level with 'Not all doormen are black you know....' Hee hee!

When MSlash and I finally got the call to go and play doormen, we stamped our feet all the way up the stairs and bitched and whined at my boss. He ended up staying for a few minutes with us just to try and shut us up. 'I'll be back in a couple of minutes' he said and disappeared down the stairs. We stood there chatting (Ok bitching) and I was catching the sun just outside the doorway when we heard the boss calling out to us as he opened the door to come up the stairs and MSlash said 'Quick! Run! Hide!'. So we ran a few doors down and hid in the doorway and pissed ourselves laughing as my boss looked in doorways down the street calling our names. As he went to turn in our direction, MSlash made a run for the van and managed to get behind it, but sadly I got caught.

To be fair to him, he stayed with us on our shift (which was actually only 15 minutes) and took all of our pisstaking in his stride until I started offering complete strangers the opportunity to come to our party. 'Forty pounds all you can drink!' I said to people as they walked by. Most of them looked like they were on day leave from a nursing home and the bosses temples were bulging. 'Stop it right now or I'll send you home!' he shouted at me trying not to laugh. MSlash cracked up laughing and said 'Will you be sending her to bed as well?'

I had one of my duh moments when I said. 'Gosh there are a lot of Chinese people out today....' and MSlash choked at my ridiculous statement. 'What do you see over there?' he said pointing off into the distance. 'Er, Chinatown....' I said feeling like a right dickhead.

I watched every second of the match England v Trini Tobago and felt nervous alongside all of the football obsessed lads at work. It's not like me to watch a whole match from start to finish so I think I have been converted into a minor football fan. I felt embarrassed when a client hurled himself onto the floor and started body popping drunkenly on the floor after the first goal and even more embarrassed when one of my team AA literally sold the football shirt off his back to a woman and whipped his top off in front of everyone. After he had put his work shirt back on, I had to give him a dig in the chest for showing himself up. One drink and he's anyone's... I was delighted that we won in the end although I did think Trini put in a very valiant effort...The place went nuts when Rooney went out onto the pitch...I had visions of him having one kick at the ball and being stretchered off. The best moment was when that fool Dwight Yorke got a ball in the nuts and lay on the ground grabbing his dick making an absolute pantomime out of the game. Even funnier when he poured his water into his pants...What does he think he has in there?

Work has dragged at a snails pace today and I've craved to be outside in the sunshine. AA has tested my patience today by waffling too much. Why can't men just give a straight answer? After a few minutes of confused fluff I said 'This is not story time with bear!'

Right have a fab weekend wherever you are and whatever (or whoever) you're doing. x

Tiredness, Slip Out Belches, Sex and Removing The Mystery Out of Relationships

I think I'm going through one of my 'off' weeks in between acupuncture appointments. I am so tired and despite spending almost 4 years feeling constantly tired and unwell, a few months of good health and a turnaround in my lifestyle as a result means that I notice my palpable tiredness now. I can barely keep my eyes open! I think it's stress...

On the upside I was in a meeting with my bosses this morning (bony arse and the Big Boss) and we were chatting away, with the Big Boss chatting particularly excitedly when he emitted a wet burp - You know those belches that are a hop, skip and a jump away from bringing up the contents of the stomach. Naturally I am non-plussed by people's bodily emissions these days...OK that was a clear lie....and I did what comes naturally to me in these situations - I had a terrible fit of the giggles and tried not to hear imaginary burps throughout the meeting...My boss was in stitches laughing too and I reminded hi about that time he farted in front of client and the Big Boss' eyes nearly popped out of his head. Hilarious!

I have been having discussions with the boyf about the imminent move and I cracked up laughing when I realised that we'd had a discussion about some chests of draws and bedside tables for a few minutes. 'Jaysus let's talk about something normal!' and so ensued a discussion about sex which has been a bit thin on the ground what with him being in Israel and a weekend in Dublin where I do believe that my mum would have slashed his penis to ribbons if she thought he was giving me a 'poking'....

We also got into a funny discussion about when men think that women have removed the mystery out of the relationship. Obviously they forget about the ever expanding beer bellies, the long nose hairs, skid marks in the boxers and farting in the bed amongst other things... When I was in the last couple of weeks of my relationship with Mr Brown Suit (the ex fiance) and I was doing all nighters to finish my finals, he had a pop at me and said 'I don't know why you think you should be so comfortable in this relationship that you think that you can wear tracksuit bottoms...'. This was said whilst standing there in his own 'lounge' pants...

Black women have tying their hair up in scarves to contend with on top of all the other things that women worry about and do such as make up, bikini lines and other body hair. I know some women that go to bed with nylon tights on their head and all sorts of funky get ups and aside from looking like a dodgy bank robber or a cling on with an extra tight face lift, it is a sure fire way to remove any remaining mystery out of the relationship. Of course the boyf has seen my hair tied up (in a nice scarf) but as I started packing up my stuff this week, I have decided that the dodgy pyjamas and t-shirts should make their way into black bin liners. I have no intention of looking like some brothel madam every night but I think I shall invest in some replacement 'pyjamas' so that the boyf should he see me strolling around in them, doesn't think that he's living with a Bridget Jones on the way to Granny Grimbles...

Right I'm off to bed...I shall put off the fur coat and no knickers look for tonight ;-)

Mother Loving, Fun, Fights and Tears in Dublin.

I'm actually too hot to type. I am so hideously hot in my flat that I may have to 1)abandon the laptop and strip off or 2) failing that, strip off a walk stark naked through Maida Vale so that I can cool down. Or it may be more logical to have a cold shower...It looks like summer has arrived in London and as usual the heat that I have craved so much is unbearable.

I got back from Dublin a few hours ago and promptly had to hug and kiss the boyf goodbye as he had to head off to Israel until Friday for work. Boo! Fortunately we've had a really good few days together and Friday is not very far away. I had been vaguely worried about the weekend away but my mum adored the boyf which was a welcome relief considering that she has despised all of my exes. She's not the type to say she likes something or someone if she doesn't and if she tried, she'd be a crap liar as the body language and tone would reveal it. They both got on brilliantly and they took the piss out of each more by the time we left, which is a sign that they're really getting on. If you can cope with some piss taking in my family, there won't be much you can't survive.

When we arrived in Dublin at 7.30am on Saturday we were all in tatters because we'd stayed up drinking all night, playing Scrabble and abusing each other. I popped to bed for an hour and woke up to MB's face hovering over mine in the dark and screamed the place down in terror. She was only trying to turn off the alarm on my phone which I hadn't woken up to! The weekend passed in a blur of booze, lengthy chats, much piss taking and football.

My mum was in great form and enjoyed getting 'tipsy' and then passing out on the couch. Only my mum would ask MB if she had put her man's penis through a penis stretcher or tell my mates to steer clear of men that they don't have a good chemistry in the sack with! She also told stories about men with hog breath and expressed her relief about the boyf by saying 'Well I'm glad that she's not with another dickhead! My God the last one (Mr Brown-Suit) was a creep!' She actually didn't mention marriage or babies until the afternoon although admittedly we all had stayed in bed until early afternoon when the match started. I had to tell her to zip it as the boyf was watching the footie with 20 year old bro in the room next door and he has supersonic hearing. Later he popped in for another beer and said 'Is it my imagination or have I heard you guys talking about penis stretching, penis size, turning MB into a pimp and my impending wedding and baby?' and we all cracked up laughing.

I got very drunk on Saturday night when we caught up with some of my oldest friends. Fortunately he had some male company as I think he was afraid his penis would turn into a vagina with all of the female company. We sat outside one of Dublin's busiest bars and the girls bonded over babies, celebrity gossip, penises and man trouble whilst the boys talked about golf and footie. Men are so simple. The boyf had to help me up Grafton Street (famous Dublin Street) as I wobbled on my heels drunkenly up the street. We waited for a taxi at Stephen's Green and watched as a woman's boyfriend left her to throw up on her own only yards from us. He was obviously gagging to make sure that he didn't lose his spot in the taxi queue, whereas we were gagging for him to take her away so we wouldn't have to watch her vomit all over her feet and make dry gagging noises. 'If I was chucking up all over the side of the road and you left me on my own, I'd cut your frickin' nuts off when we got back!' I sniped to the boyf. Within seconds, her boyfriend went over and belatedly started pulling her hair back. Bit like shutting the door...after the horse has bolted. He should have been licking her feet...

Saying goodbye to my home of eighteen years today was incredibly hard. Unfortunately MB and I had a rather unpleasant disagreement last night which blighted things a little as I was left very hurt and upset by some unexpected behaviour and words. I spent this morning having to sort that out when I had planned to spend some time with my mum and take a quick stroll to the beach and the cliff amongst other places, where I used to hang out. Let's just say that this morning and the flare of my temper to what had happened was the angriest that I have felt in a long time...

Everything is OK with MB now but it did mean that I felt more emotional than I had expected to when it came to leaving the house. I've lived in Dublin since I was 10, and finished primary school, all of secondary and 2 years of uni there. I have a hell of a lot of memories entrenched in the place and it was only when I realised that I couldn't go back when I wanted to and sleep in my old room or pop around to my mates, that I felt a horrid sense of unfamiliarity. Even though I've built my life on my own terms here in London, it was nice to be able to pop 'home' and slip back into the comfy old pair of slippers that's Dublin. It's not just the house, it's the end of an era.

So I'm back now feeling a little tender and raw after a highly emotional time over the past twenty-four hours. Fortunately I also learnt some great things about love and support today and ultimately tomorrow's a new day. I was in the car on the way to the airport focused on looking out the window with my sunglasses hiding my eyes and trying my damndest not to feel like shit and just let my hurt trickle away when my phone beeped and opened a text message from the boyf, who was sat in front. The text message said that he loved me and when he saw that I had read it, he reached back and gave me a squeeze and all my upset finally went away.

Meet The Mother Time/Dublin Getaway

In twenty-four hours I will probably be tipsy somewhere in Dublin and my mum will be squiffy drunk trying to put her lipgloss on with slashing movements that miss her lips and mortifying me by telling stories about me or my crazy Jamaican family to the boyf, M and MB. It's been over four years since a boyfriend has been introduced to my mum and I'm inclined to do a sweepstake to see how long it takes for my mum to mention the words and phrases 'baby';'wedding';'marriage';'grandmother';'house';'When are you doing those feckin driving lessons?';'save';'your breasts are bigger than mine' and 'I don't know why you have to show cleavage'. You'd swear I had my tits hanging out the way she makes a fuss of my bosom!

Will she end up demonstrating Jamaican swearwords? Will she end up mixing up her words? She says Kelvin Klein instead of Calvin Klein and has accidentally referred to that well known designer as Tommy Hiln*gger and she wasn't even trying to be rude! My mother still hasn't gotten over that time when she described herself as Caucasian to a room full of bewildered Irish people! I'm still trying to get over the time when she got drunk and told a ridiculous story about finding my now 16 year old bro with a douche bag (long story)! The bro is still trying to get over my mum getting drunk at Christmas, and her seeing a girl that the bro had been dating on the TV and my mum in hysterical laughter calling her a horse!

I am really looking forward to spending time with her and the little bro's who are both doing big exams at the moment. This is my last time in the home that we've had for 18 years before it's sold and it's going to be gutting to say goodbye to it. I'll get to catch up with my friends month old twins plus the other kiddies that are growing up in my absence. Very importantly I'll be catching up and getting drunk with my old mates from Dublin plus my mum, MB, M and of course, the boyf.

I can guarantee that there will be plenty of entertainment and some drama. My family are crackerjacks and my mum and MB together are dangerous with their loud talking, loud laughing and big opinions. M is the calming sarcastic influence and myself and the boyf will probably be taking the piss a lot. The 20 year old bro will be monosyllabic and if I say the wrong thing, downright rude. The 16 year old will hit us all up for cash or a gift by the end of the weekend and my mum will try to push loads of stuff on us to bring back on the plane to put in my flat for when she moves over.

Right...I'm off to meet up with the gang. I need to get into a competitive spirit as I think we're gonna be having a few drinks and challenging each other on some games. Our flight is at 6.30am so it will be interesting to see how drunk we get tonight...let the fun begin!

Blogger Outage

Blogger has been a pain in the arse over the past 24 hours. I have no clue what the hell is wrong with it but seeing as I can log in now and comments are back working, fingers crossed the problem is over.

Happy Blog Birthday! My baby is 2 years old!...Live-In Girlfriend

'Mmmmm.....nice legs!' a man growled in my ear as I walked up the street last night. Nac (close friend and best flatmate ever) and I howled with laughter. 'Foooking men!' Nac exclaimed in her heavy Northern accent.

Today it's two years since I started this blog. Yay! It all started after yet another crap date and since then it has been a massive rollercoaster ride of bad taste, bad health and bad chat ups and I seriously started to wonder if I was destined to be the Bad Date Clown that would entertain her friends with her ridiculous love life.

And then I fell in love. It happened after I ditched The F*ckwit and just as my disease (sarcoidosis) started to finally bugger off. I was very quiet about this guy that quietly got my attention at a games night, so much so that I didn't mention him as I thought it would tempt fate. Normally I'm flexing my fingers and filling up blog posts with my musings on a potential guy.

Thanks to everyone that has supported me through my trials and tribulations, and more up's and downs than a call girls pair of knickers. Who knew when I started this blog that it would still be going 2 years later?! I have laughed, cried, choked, spluttered and 'Hilarious'd' my way through the 2 years and made some great friends. The comments, the many emails that I get from complete strangers that tell me all about themselves or just ask me questions are very welcomed and much appreciated.

Whilst doing this blog, I did a years treatment of steroids because of my sarcoidosis and have often exposed my fears and insecurities about the possibility that I would never be well again and that I was destined to spend a life having dodgy dates, whilst being on steroids for life and then keeling over from pulmonary heart failure in my forties. Thanks to the people that read this blog, I tried kinesiology and acupuncture and the woman you see pictured above is healthier than she has been for four years. I'm not in secret pain anymore and I don't worry about going blind, not being able to walk or breathe properly and feeling like crap for the rest of my days. I'm in remission and hopefully in the next few months, I will almost be as good as new. I can't thank everyone enough for their support.

It's not easy being me. I'm human, I f*ck up, I don't always make great choices, I lose control of myself when my hormones go haywire when it's 'time of the month', I sometimes swear too much, I have no shame about dancing and laughing at inappropriate times (often to Michael Jackson), I cry at The Simpsons and 24, I act like I'm indestructible when secretly I worry that I'm not strong enough, I have strops and hissy fits, and go through periods of being anxious and worried. I've lusted after someone else's boyfriend(and thankfully out of love) and seem to have a dodgy habit of attracting men that have recently broken up with the girlfriend...and sometimes are even still living with them. I thought I knew exactly what I wanted and that it was all on a big list and probably was a bit harsh on some of the 'nice' guys that pursued me.

I won't waffle on about these past few months with the boyf as you all know I'm very loved up! The secret....is that due to a set of family circumstances which will see me letting my mum have my flat, I am going to stay with the boyf. In his flat. In essence this means that I have decided to live with the boyf and it will happen during the summer, probably in July. This is pretty monumentous for me, for both of us and it's very exciting. I'm under no illusions about moving in with boyfriends after experiences from when I was young and stupid, but I have vowed for the past few years that I wouldn't live with someone again unless I thought that the relationship was serious. The family situation has been the catalyst but it would have happened anyway. I have lived on my own for three years and I have revelled in it, but I am excited about waking up with the boyf every day and having my family around me for the first time in years. Life is good! I can guarantee that living with the boyf will be an entertaining experience and I hope that you will all continue on my journey with me.

NML x

Twas The Night Before...NOT a Baby...Secret Squirrel

It's amazing, you say you have a secret, you say you're NOT pregnant (Have none of you comprehended my fear of childbirth?????), you say you'll reveal the secret soon and next thing you know you get emails and some phonecalls demanding to know what the secret is, and every single person asks if I'm knocked up or as Girth put it earlier 'Are you cheggers?' (preggers for anyone not in the know).

You can all rest assured that I am not about to unleash a Mini Me on everyone. My vagina still has issues with emitting something the size of a basketball when it feels that it can only accommodate something smaller...not too small obviously...not too big...anyway...I digress...

June 7th is this blogs second anniversary so I thought I would reveal all then. I hope to f*ck I don't disappoint you with the revelation and if I do...tough tits. I've quite enjoyed being a secret squirrel (something that PDot calls me on a regular basis when I refuse to divulge gossip...albeit temporarily...) and it's nice to have a bit of news.

Now I've been wondering what direction to venture in with this blog as with it slipping into its third year and with me being in a relationship that doesn't reek of bullsh*t, I don't want to be boring people. Going from single to being in a relationship and happy is like turning up for an orgy when everyone has just found out that you have a dose of the clap - some of them won't want to shag you...

People thrive on drama, crap dates, bad B.O., tears, tantrums, guys trying to get in my knickers with crap chat up lines, me debating about whether I like the guy or not, me being heart broken, me bumping into exes, revelations that their mum is a crackhead and their entire family are criminals, over-zealous willies, obsessive blind closing, slagging off my boss and me generally being a bitch. I can still do a number of these things but I won't be binning off the boyf so that I can revel in dubious men and dodgy dates.

Also much as I may be loved up, I'm enjoying my life as it is and a baby is not part of the equation at the moment. So can people please stop sending me bleedin' emails asking if I'm 'up the duff'; 'have a bun in the oven' or whether they will be invited to the wedding or christening. Bejaysus!

Drunken Introductions and Hideously Embarrassing Moments

I finally introduced B and John to the boyf on Thursday night. We started off with drinks at one of our old boozing haunts and moved on to dinner at a bistro up the street. We all got very drunk and a very funny evening ensued with a lot of taking the piss and playful bickering. The trouble with introducing people who you've been drunk or done extremely silly things with is that they can totally embarrass you in front of your boyfriend.

I told the boyf about B's insistence that she is an Olympic gold medalist as it was one of the funniest things about her and caused her to stop speaking to a number of us at work when we refused to believe her. Just so you know, she isn't an actual Olympic medalist. She took part in a mock Olympics at her school when she was a kid and it was sponsored by Uncle Ben's rice (because that's the food of athletes......). She was explaining her win to the boyf with a solemn face and then she drops in that I claim to have run 100 metres in 3 frickin seconds! I was SO embarrassed as the boyf nearly fell off his chair laughing. I'll have you all know that I was a very good athlete as a teenager and won a lot of the medals at sports day. I might have said I ran it in 10 or 11 seconds but truth be told, I don't remember the real speed but it was fast. Obviously when you're at work with the crazy people that I work with, MJ dancing, arguing over Olympic gold medals and claiming that you run as fast as some very famous athletes are just part of a days work.....

There were so many funny things about the evening but the funniest but most hideously embarrassing bit was saved for the end. B, who was weaving and bobbing like a boxer on his last legs from all of the wine we had drunk TOLD the boyf that she hears he's a five times a night man! The boyf looked at me incredulously as B swayed from the wine and I actually thought that I would vomit with embarrassment. THEN she starts rambling on about something else and says 'The Boyf, did you know I'm gonna be a bridesmaid when NML gets married?' and my whole face flushed beetroot with mortification as I cried with laughter out of sheer nerves.

The boyf thought it was hilarious and was smirking at me in my uncomfortableness. 'This isn't exactly true....' I said in my defence. 'B you silly cow, that was ONE time I told you about with the sex! Jaysus, what are you trying to do to me!'

As for the bridesmaid thing it was taken out of context. B was waffling about weddings in general whilst the boys were waffling about football and other crap and she demanded to know if she would still be a bridesmaid when I get married one day. I said yes, and next thing you know she's telling the boyf! On the tube on the way home I said 'Please don't think that I have been talking about a wedding!' and he cracked up laughing and said 'I'm not thinking anything. It was very, very funny!' and I thanked my lucky stars that the boyf is quite chilled about these things.

As for the secret...I shall let you all stew a little longer!

Tired of Men Part 5 - Oh the randomness...and The L Word (NOT Lesbian)

I'm feeling a bit 'random' today so I think I shall just offload thoughts...

1) It's three years since I left the ex(Mr Brown-Suit) today. It was less Prison Break...and more 'Let's get the f*ck out of here NOW!'. Three years has shown that I had an alarming amount of foresight and sense...that I could have done with almost two years before... Fortunately I think we're both miles happier now and if not, f*ck it, I bloody am! And remember, never wear brown from head to foot when you're black as you look like one big lump of poo...

2) I must really love the boyf because I don't even wince anymore when he talks about his bowels.... It's either that or sitting with PDot has made me oblivious. Why do men make such a pantomime out of taking a sh*t!? And why do they need to discuss the frequency, consistency and the effect of different foods.....

3) I had to threaten the boyf the other morning because whilst I was waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs of his building, he let out a ripper of a fart on the way down. 'Please don't let that be him...please don't let that be him...please don't let that be...oh the SHAME of it!' I thought as he approached me like a thief on the run. As we walked up the path, a neighbour followed us out looking a bit fazed and the boyf starts making noises about how I shouldn't have farted! 'Get in the car before I turn your nuts into earrings....' I said through embarrassed giggles.

4) Despite feeling like crap the past week or so, I have managed to take the piss out of my boss A LOT over the past couple of days. I can't take antibiotics so I have to get my illness out of my system somehow. Dear boss, I'm sorry for taking the piss out of your tan, your hair, and making comments about seagull managers....and sending provoking emails...

5) Is it wrong that I have no idea what is going on in Prison Break even though I 'watch' it each week? OK, I drool and sometimes I put it on mute whilst I'm on the phone....

6) Last week a number of people thought I was pregnant hence the keeling over at work and my 'flu'. Oh the mortification of having my mother interrogate me about periods and get excited about the non-existent grandchild. Even funnier when the boyf's mother phoned me to enquire about my 'symptoms'....

7) I do have some 'news' though but I shall savour it a little longer. NO, it's not a baby!

8) Is it weird that I'm only 'friends' with 2 exes?

9) Is it weird that I don't have any overwhelmingly positive things to say about most of my exes?

10) Why don't I like strippers? Am I a secret prude?

11) Why has my rabbit vibrator gathered dust whether I have been single or attached?

12) Does everyone masturbate except for me?

13) Did you know that one of my ex's Bee Gee/The Mummy's Boy was lying on the sofa in his parents house and his t-shirt exposed a bit of belly. His mother walked in made cootchy-coo noises and BLEW on his stomach!

14) If you've ever seen that episode of Friends where Rachel dates a guy who is uber close with his sister (over touching and even bathing together), Bee Gee and his sister were like that (minus the bathing-I hope...). Creeped me out.

15) Mr Brown-Suit was anal retentive about the directions that the blinds were closed. Sometimes I would close them 'wrong' intentionally.

16) Dot Dot Dot Man (formerly The Contender) had a sort of flipper cocky cockney walk. Yes, difficult to describe. It was a jaunty walk, left foot pointing away to the left, right foot to the right and sometimes he'd do it with his hands on his hips. I think it's an English thing.

17) I once went on holiday to Barbados with Mr Brown Suit and I spent one of the days trapped in a courthouse with his babymama. When I finally threw a wobbler he told me it wasn't a holiday and he was there to see his kid. So every person that came along on the trip and asked how the holiday was going, I'd say 'It's not a holiday - he's only here to see his kid'. Hilarious! He was livid.

18) I broke it off with The Boy who I went out with at uni and it was only after I'd told him that it was over that he mentioned that he'd just found out THAT DAY that he was dyslexic. Mor-ti-fi-cation. I have tried very hard to bury that incident in my mind.

19) The L word has been used recently....... Hee hee! NML is VEEEEEEEERY happy! *moonwalks across the room, grabs crotch, thrusts hand up in the air in a glove move, twirls, pretends to put a hat on her head and says 'Shamon!'

Yes, I am feeling better ;-)