Nurse NML and an Extra Bone

"There is something wrong with my foot. Look! LOOK!" the boyf said pointing at the arch of his foot dramatically. I abandoned getting dressed and peered at his foot. Well he could do with some moisturiser and a pedicure...I thought and stared blankly at his foot.

"Feel there!" and he grabbed my hand and I touched his foot and felt....nothing. "See!" he exclaimed.

"Er...I can't really feel anything but I believe you." I said and went back to getting dressed whilst he waffled about how he might have done it at football (he hasn't actually been near football training since The Time That Was Before Me...).

I got a call a little while ago and his tone was very serious and for a moment I thought there had been some bad news. "I've found out what's wrong with me" he announced solemnly. "I have an extra bone in my foot!" he added triumphantly.

"I didn't know that you went to the doctor" I felt very confused at this point and had visions of a bone poking out.

Pause. "Well I found out on the internet. I put in all of my symptoms and I discovered my problem. It even LOOKS like what I was showing you this morning!" and at this point I struggled to hold in giggles. I didn't actually see or feel anything this morning. He then explained his affliction in immense detail whilst I listened patiently.

"So this bone just appeared overnight?" I asked bemused.

"NOoooooo!" he said impatiently. It's probably from when I've been playing football.

Hold on a second here...He hasn't been near football for donkey's! He was supposed to go training for the umpteenth time on Tuesday and ended up watching Stargate SG-1 on the sofa!

"You crack me up!" I said through choked giggles.

"Did I tell you that it's normally something that teenage girls get?" he said and we both cracked up laughing.

And they say that women are dramatic and aren't logical...

I wonder if he is angling for me to get into a Nurse's Outfit?

Mama's Home/Long Weekend Drunkenness

"So when's the big day?" I stared at my mother blankly and wondered if I had missed something spectacular in my own life. "Huh?" I replied and focused on little bro's laptop whilst she repeated the question. "What big day?" I finally relented. "I hate to disappoint you, but you aren't about to be a granny...". "Your wedding silly!" she said knowingly. "There is no wedding!" I said firmly wondering if this is what lies in store for me now that my mother lives in the same city as me...

It's almost been a week and so far, the sky hasn't fallen down, the Tube hasn't eaten her up, she hasn't been beaten or robbed or worse still murdered and is in fact having a good time settling in. I barely even recognise my flat (well it's not mine anymore....) as she has moved everything around as I expected. I phoned her on the way to acupuncture earlier. "I think something's happened to little bro!" she shrieked at me down the phone. She'd told him to go out and explore so he could gain his own independence (her words) and when she popped out for a few minutes, he'd done exactly what she said and disappeared with no way of contacting him. Apparently she cried when he came home... Sweet baby Jesus and the frickin' orphans! "You poor boy..." I muttered to him. "Tell me about it..." he smirked. "Do you think she's on crack?" I wisecracked and we fell around laughing, quickly straightening up when she came back in the room for fear of getting a clip around the earhole.

The bank holiday weekend went by far too quickly. I spent my Saturday night with the boyf and some of his university friends getting rather drunk and comparing notes with the other women about what our respective boyfriends do and don't do around the house. There was a moment of clarity where I realised that there was a time when I would have been telling bad date stories as the only singleton at a gathering like this. The evening went fuzzy after a half hearted attempt at a drinking game and the next thing I remember was weaving and bobbing drunkenly around the flat and trying to pick a fight with the boyf who was also blind drunk. I passed out a while later and woke up the following morning feeling as if someone had tap danced all over my head and my ass. I looked over at the boyf rather sheepishly and closed my eyes to push out the hungover feeling. I woke up a few hours later, barely able to speak and staggered into the shower feeling very sorry for myself. The boyf didn't know what to do with me and when I had my head hanging over the toilet with my heart racing and my body feeling clammy, I vowed never to drink again. I forced myself to leave the flat and walk around the shops with the boyf and I found my voice as he gently eased me back into the day with chit-chat, giggles and his hand holding mine to steer me around.

I did succumb a few hours later for a birthday gathering but it was just the one glass of wine and I was quieter than usual...If that's possible...

Tomorrow I'm vowing to be on my best behaviour as MSlash and I have been very naughty all day as we clearly resented being back to work after the long weekend. Poor bony arse boss got stick from us all day! I was howling with laughter when the boss spent what felt like the whole day writing on a whiteboard and MSlash was holding up sheets of paper with rude names such as 'Tosser' and an arrow pointing at his head written on it. Oh dear... tomorrow I'm going to be a good girl...

Almost Wedgie, Poo and Giggles

Well it's been a hectic few days in the world of NML because my mama has moved over to London. The heavens opened, the seas parted, and afros puffed up everywhere... I've been dashing around like a blue-arsed fly and I'm delighted that it's a four day weekend. Unfortunately it will be a 4 day weekend with a bruised thigh. It's not courtesy of the boyf... I was on the tube a couple of evenings ago and I had several bags to control so I stood up early as the tube hurtled into Victoria station. I was just praising myself for keeping my balance when the carriage lurched and I found myself toppling what appeared to be fanny first (the front one) onto the arm rest. Fortunately I slammed down on my thigh and missed out on a ginormous wedgie and I felt tears spring to my eyes with shock and embarrassment. There were 4 guys sitting in front of me just staring at me bemused. I staggered off the tube and attempted to walk normally with my head held high and found myself having a choking fit of the giggles.

Poo and bodily functions continue to be at the centre of mine and the boyf's relationship. He came back from golf a while ago and after a quick catch up, he announced that he was going to have a quick lie down before we head out. As usual he started talking to me from the bedroom within moments of the announcement so I followed him into the bedroom and found myself choking on fart. "Have you just let rip?!" I demanded. He nodded sheepishly and replied "How was I to know that you were going to come in here?!"

A few minutes ago I had to be the bearer of bad news which I have been trying to tell him for several minutes but first we got interrupted by the phone ringing, and then I saw him head for the bathroom with a book. I heard the door open and he finally came into the living room where I told him that a relative had passed away. Naturally he was shocked at the unexpected news and headed off back to the bedroom to call his mum. I got up and followed him out to see if he was alright and as I watched him on the phone, I felt my nose twitch at the stench wafting out of the bathroom. I looked at the bathroom and looked at him, he looked at the bathroom and looked at me and started giggling. Even in sombre moments, for some strange reason there is still poo and giggles...

I was just about to press 'Publish Post' and the boyf came out of the shower shouting "Can you smell burning?!" I started shaking with laughter whilst he stood there with the towel wrapped around his waist. "Are you sure it's not your own sh*t you're smelling!?" I asked through my dirty laughs. "You're so rude!" he shouted. I can't find the source of the burning and he is refusing to acknowledge that he has caused it. I sniffed his towel and he was livid that I am implying that he smells of burning. Oh dear...

Have great weekends!

Men. Sometimes...OK they're a pain in the arse...

I got home a while ago and let's just say that I have a serious case of bubble guts. The boyf is out for dinner with his brother and father and called me to make sure I had got home OK. I explained that I wasn't feeling well as I clutched my stomach and he said "Have you got the runs?" and I could hear his dad and brother talking really clearly beside him! "Jesus boyf! Are you discussing my frickin bowel movements whilst they can hear you!?" I roared at him incredulously and he cracked up laughing. "Oh don't worry! They are engrossed in conversation!"

Men. Sometimes they just don't get it.

"Did the cleaner come around today?" the boyf asked earlier. I glanced at our extremely untidy flat which was left that way for her to clean and told him that she hadn't. "She didn't come around today? She didn't clean the flat?"

Men. Sometimes they are hard of bloody hearing.

"Make sure you don't forget anything!" the boyf said to me as we got ready to leave for work. Every single day he has to go back into the flat to get something he has forgotten. I laughed at him. "Isn't that something you should be telling yourself....?" and edged out the door without thinking. "NML! I think you need this...." he said with a smirk on his face as he handed me the carrier bag of items I needed to return. He was still laughing about it a few minutes later.

Men. Sometimes (OK often) they don't know when to tell their ego to shut the f*ck up.

The boyf spotted a parking space, drove past it to turn the car around and promptly had his parking space 'stolen'...by a woman. "She's stolen my parking space!" he roared in an early morning road rage. I cracked up laughing. "She can multi-task...Us women do know how to think on our feet you know..." He was still bitching about having to park further up the street five minutes later. "Zip it!" I demanded. He quickly shut up.

Men. Sometimes they don't know when to let go.

Hmmm...I feel much better now...

Wedding Fever

Yesterday morning, the boyf and I rushed around the flat trying to get ready for a wedding. I had a lovely deep purple dress to wear but after putting it on, I decided that I needed to run the iron over it. As I slid the dress off my shoulders, I felt my body break out in a heat and the dress felt stuck. I pulled up, I pulled down...and nothing. I tried to put my arms back in...and nothing. Panic started to set in and I thought back to that time when I got a strapless top stuck on me in the Oasis changing room due to my silly boobs. Twenty f'ng minutes and the start of tears before I had to rip the damn thing off me and make a hasty exit. On this occasion, I gave in and called the boyf out of the bathroom who cracked up laughing when he saw me. With me put firmly back in my dress, we were actually able to leave the damn flat, me with my hair in curls and a quiff on top in my dress and new suede heels with a snakeskin toe and him looking damn sexy in his blue suit and shirt.

Twenty minutes later, I had to send him back to the car to repark it as he had parked too far from the church and I am not cut out for hiking, nevermind in high heels and a dress that was quite partial to blowing up in the wind.

Later in the church we exchanged meaningful glances and giggles during the ceremony. I was eyeing him with great love when he leaned over looking very perturbed and said 'My bum is itchy...' I mean seriously! Why does the boyf ruin special moments with his bum or bowel movements!? We both dissolved into giggles and I swatted him away from me with the ceremony programme.

At the reception, which was held at a farm, we all sat outside chatting and trying to enjoy the dregs of the sun before we headed into the enormous marquee. We had already spotted that one guest was wearing a dress so short, you could almost see her ass cheeks. Each time she walked by, we winced. If this was what she was dressing like for something that started at 12pm, what does she wear when it's dark? As I expected, a big gust of wind came along to blow up her belt, I mean dress, to reveal a large pair of mesh knickers. We all fell around laughing. As we walked into the marquee, the boyf pointed out that at least she wasn't wearing period pants but unbeknownst to us, someone had got a much closer view and spotted that there was a rather large pad in the knickers! Oh the shame!

This was a Sierra Leone wedding and the first I had attended from start to finish. The speeches were very funny with a few faux pas like when the mother of the brides friend described the mother of the brides late husband as a 'great lover'. The whole room was choking and spluttering with shock. A short while later, a woman was called upon to say a prayer before the meal and bless the bride and groom. Over 10 minutes went by and this woman was still preaching like a maniac. I was actually flinching each time she yelled and I couldn't believe how many times 'sinning' and 'devil' were mentioned. I didn't know whether she was going to demand that someone leap out of their wheelchair and walk next, or if she was going to scream 'Sexual chocolate!' or if she was going to unleash snakes on us. One of the boyf's friends caught my eye and I had to squeeze my eyes shut as giggles threatened to slip out. I opened my eyes again a short while later and I wasn't the only one struggling not to laugh.

Dancing is a really big part of African weddings and I had to avert my eyes a few times when the ladies, some of whom were old enough to be my grandmother, were grinding like their lives depended on it. The boyf's mum said she is going to teach me how to dance like this and I'm sure I looked like a rabbit caught in the headlights. I don't know if my knees could take it...

I had no idea that Madonna's 'Holiday' is really popular at African weddings!

The boyf has now got wedding fever and since we put our feet in the church yesterday he has been talking about anything and everything to do with weddings. I am sure the fever will pass very soon, he's just a soppy git! I actually hid behind him outside the church as all of his mothers friends came over to tell him that they'd heard that he was living with his girlfriend and that they were waiting on their wedding invites. I very rarely become shy but when you feel so many beady eyes on you, you want to disappear.

The boyf's dad is visiting for a few days which means that I have been tortured with an unbelievable amount of sport today. Can you believe that they have been watching golf, football and cricket for 5 hours?! The boyf has just made a big production out of going to the bathroom and I've had to pinch myself as I cannot believe that I live with a sports obsessed guy that loves talking about poo and bums. I do love to make a rod for my own back...

Enjoy the rest of your weekends x

Do I Give Off a Different Scent? Do robbers ring doorbells?

I was on my way home yesterday on the train, quite absorbed in my book when I felt compelled to look around as I felt like I was being watched. I looked up and a male passenger was staring at me and he smiled when our eyes met. In that moment I felt quite confused. I wonder if I'm smuggling peanuts? I thought to myself as there had been a few times today when my nipples looked like bullets under my cardigan and top. I quickly glanced down, felt relieved at the lack of peanuts and then promptly felt embarassed as he was still watching me. I looked back down at my book and I realised: I used to get chatted up, eyed up and approached by guys all the time, albeit mostly strange ones. This was the first time I recalled a guy giving me the eye for ages! Do I give off a different scent now that I'm no longer single?

I used to either get very flustered or burst out laughing when I was approached and who knows what I would do now. I would be mortified if I started going "I have a boyfriend! I have a boyfriend!" to some guy and he replied with "I just wanted to know the time...."

People do say that I'm different in person now which is amusing in some respects as I think people love to project that fear of being alone onto you and then translate that into She is happier. It must be because she has a man. My work colleagues think I'm more mellow and less bitchy (probably debatable...) since the arrival of the boyf and they love making a holy show of me and giving the boyf advice on how to 'manage' me. I do smile a lot more but I have quite a lot to be happy about. When you're not worried about your immune system breaking down on you, it's amazing what a good mood you can be in...but yes it helps to be in love!

I did wonder if the old scent that I unwittingly gave off said I'm gagging for a man... but I think I just have one of those faces that invites people to talk shite to me. A lot of people in London ask me for directions so I must look quite approachable because people are normally scared to ask for directions in big cities!

The doorbell rang at the flat last night and I froze in panic and thought Who the f*ck is ringing the door at this time? Oh my God, what if it's a rapist or a robber? Oh sh*t! I approached the door and asked who it was without opening it. "I'm here to drop off a ticket" he said and my mind raced. Is this an elaborate ploy to get into the flat?....Do rapists and robbers ring the doorbell before they commit the crime?....Who in their right mind would climb those hideous flights of stairs to come up here and rob or rape me? They'd be bloody exhausted!...Oh sh*t! The boyf did mention something about cricket tickets....

When men live with women, I do wonder how they managed beforehand. The boyf is always asking me to remember or do stuff and I am constantly amused. We had a recent debacle over the grocery shopping where we were going to go together but he expressed concern that it would make me late to meet the bro. So I agreed and told him to go on his own and he looked panic stricken. "But I won't know what to get!" he whined. Frequent utterances include "Where is my...?" and "Have you seen the...?" Can you believe we've only lived together for 5 weeks!?

Sounds of Blackness

Seriously, I am a touched disturbed by all of you secret musical lovers... Or am I more concerned about how the musical fascination seems to have bypassed my family? Should I be reporting my mother to child services because we watched Coming to America instead of Grease? I'm not saying we never watched musicals but just like the book about why men don't call and all that jazz, we just weren't that into them. Maybe there's a few other things you should know about my childhood and crackerjack family...

"I won't be taking care of your pitney's (Jamaican speak for 'children') no more" announced the elderly childminder to my mum when I was about 3 or 4 years old. I remember even then being fascinated by her funked up housecoat... "I don't understand! What's happened?!" my mum demanded eyeing me suspiciously. "It's her" the woman said pointing at me. "Your chile said that I wear a wig! Take 'your pitney and galang!" My mum stared at me and seemingly I put my hands on my hips and laughed. "But it's true mummy! Look at it! You can see!" After that we all had to leave very hurriedly...

The bro and I had a particular story book about a rat and his friends read to us. Or was it a ferret? We would go to bed and we would take it in turns each night to read the book and replace the characters name with..brace yourselves...'Stinking Doo Doo'. Even now I am cracking up laughing as I type this and back then we'd be crying with childish hysterical laughter. My mum would come up and read the clean version and we'd be snickering and she'd look very confused. My family will practically lie on their backs weeping with laughter once the poo and fart stories start and this happened as recently as last Christmas...

We're not nackers (Irish for pikey's), we just like to laugh a lot. I read an awful lot as a child so in between 'What you talking about Willis?' I would read everything and anything. The bro had an aversion to reading until his twenties but was an avid 'reader' of the bra section in the catalogue. 'Buses' he called them. The bro has been a breast man since he was 4....

Despite watching The Dark Crystal almost 25 years ago, you only have to say the word 'Gelfling' in my family and we all start doing stupid voices and imitating them and making claw movements with our hands.

Family occasions where we all have to sit down to dinner always descend into hilarity and sometimes arguments. We start with grace which we argue about who will do for ages and normally it goes to the moody bro (now 20). We have had contests for 'Your mama' jokes at Christmas and Easter dinners that have descended into tears when for some reason the moody bro decided that it's personal or my mum gets too tiddly on the wine and thinks it's serious...despite starting it.

On discovering the moody bro had a penchant for porn several years ago, which he denied despite being caught several times with the paraphenalia, the bro (27yrs and lives in London) and I took to openly taking the piss out of him at dinner and pretending to be porn models in silly poses. My mum would be livid!

There was a rather uncomfortable silence followed by hysterical laughter a few years back after a story of a douche bag being mistaken for a water pump toy...

The bro and I used to love playing with the polystyrene Girls World heads in my grandmothers room which had her wigs on them. Naturally she will deny all existence of the wigs when asked...

We also had an obsession with my grandads shirts. With his flares, which I think he wore well into the 80s (you know that even in the year 2006 that black folk can still dress like it's the 90s...80s...70s...60s...50s...40s...30s...20s...) he always wore shirts with stuff like racing cars and horses printed all over them. Thinking about it now, he was probably quite cool looking....

My mum once described herself as caucasian to a room full of white Irish people....She'd been watching a crime show earlier, got a bit tipsy and more than a touch confused... We got a lot of mileage out of this incident!

We had Monopoly-gate more than 15 years ago where everyone accused each other of cheating and we've refused to play it together ever since....

My mum was one of those sports parents from hell. Is mine the only mum that turns into a tennis monster on the court and shouts "Hit the f************ng ball!!!!!!"? Us to the little bro "Don't pay any attention when she starts shouting when you're playing football/golf/tennis whatever. She's a maniac!"

The bro and I got in trouble for referring to the picture of ET dressed up in a wig, dress and heels in the film as a certain relative....

Are we crazy black folk? Actually it might not be a good idea to answer that...

The Sound Of Music - Say What?!

The boyf and I were trying to get the flat back to normal after our flat was ravaged by the builders. (I must post pics of the new kitchen when it's clean...) I was in the bedroom cleaning up whilst shaking my booty to some old skool stuff on my iPod speakers when I heard the strains of something odd. I walked into the kitchen and it was some weird musical music that I vaguely recognised and the boyf was washing up and making vague singing noises. "What on earth are you listening to?!" I demanded. "The Sound of Music!" he said sounding outraged that I hadn't recognised it. I eyed the iPod speakers nervously and started to back away from them. "There isn't something you have to tell me, is there?" I said giggling. "No honey! We used to watch The Sound of Music and Grease a lot when we were kids!" I shuddered and edged out of the kitchen to the comforting sounds of hip hop and R&B.

Later when I mentioned this to his brother and mum they nodded enthusiastically and his brother's girlfriend and I shared a look of bewilderment. "The Sound of Music and Grease were the only video's we had!" his brother.

In my house, the first video I ever watched was The Dark Crystal and although we did partake in some musicals, Eddie Murphy Raw, Stir Crazy and anything else with Richard Pryor, Coming to America, Trading Places, Ghostbusters and the Gremlins were institutions in my house. We still watch Raw every single Christmas in my house and fall around laughing as if it's totally new. It was comforting to know that his brothers girlfriend shared the same childhood video experiences as me. I wonder if he thinks my family are crackerjacks... Ooops, too late anyway...

Speaking of family, my dad phoned yesterday to see if I was still giving him the 'ole blackety blank cheque book and pen (ignoring him for non-English people. It only took him 6 days to brave the storm of talking to me.... I said I was still talking to him but did add for good measure "Next time you wanna spring a surprise sibling on me, can you give me more than 5 minutes notice please!?!" He readily agreed and I bellowed down the line "Er HELLO! You'd better not have anymore to creep out the woodwork or I WILL disown you!" to which he readily agreed. Music to my ears...

I'll Never Be Ready to Be in a Desperate Relationship

So I'm over the shock of the melodrama on Sunday and at this stage I can even have a laugh about it...Sort of...but it's progress...I guess I can be certain that when it comes to my family, I'll never be short on entertainment. I think that despite being an adult, I am still prone to forgetting that my parents are not perfect people and they do f*ck up... I think my reaction to being ambushed with a 14 year old sister that I didn't know existed, five minutes before I was due to arrive at a christening stemmed from various feelings that are slowly crystallising themselves so if anything, yet again life has thrown me a curve ball that is teaching me more about myself. The outrage and shock has left to be replaced with a little hurt but ultimately acceptance.

It did get me thinking about things you learn along the way about boys and love. For instance yesterday I had one of my insightful conversations with my mum where alarmingly she pointed out that I shouldn't say anything else about 'the ambush' to the boyf because he may go off me. Now if he was one of my chump exes I could understand that advice but it's not actually about him, it's about the lesson that she is trying to teach me about men. I countered her advice by pointing out that considering that the boyf and I are very supportive to each other, if he was to feel that I am not so great a girlfriend because my family are crackerjacks, he wouldn't be so right for me anyway. The boyf and I are not going out with our respective families and whilst they are a part of our lives, they are also separate.

It's no wonder that I sometimes struggle to be entirely honest about things that bother me in relationships in general when I'm being forcefed the notion that honesty leaves you manless... I have no desire to be someone who derives all of their happiness and insecurity from their significant other. Part of the reason why I am so happy with the boyf is because not only did I find happiness on a personal level, on my own, but I am learning how to be honest with myself and honest with everyone else about the good, the bad and the sometimes ugly. It reminds me of that other age old notion that the ONLY thing that is important for a woman is having a man. That idea makes me want to stick my finger down my throat! Not because it's a man but that there are so many women out there that have been brainwashed into relationship desperation. Women do a lot of strange things in the name of d*ck! Why do you think that there are so many problems between women!? It's because of all the dicks before chicks carry-on? There are women that will do a beat down and clamber and trample over every woman in their path in the name of nabbing the man in their vision.

How can women be so successful for instance in the workplace, do all that they desire and be surrounded by family and friends and STILL be seen as some sort of failure because they haven't turned their ovaries over to a man or turned into bridezilla, or God forbid, remained single because they felt like holding out for the right guy?

I refuse to be someone who thinks that I'm not as great as someone else because I haven't got a ring on my finger, pushed out some kids and consigned myself to the life of a desperate housewife. At 29. One day I'd like to get married and have some mini-me's but it's not because society told me so. I will only do those things because it's what's right for me.

I'm not ready to get my t*ts out in public and breastfeed a child because I would be in hysterical laughter at the hideous embarrassment.
I'll never be ready to be a stepford wife with dinners on the table every night, cross-stitching, perfectly ironed shirts (Lord knows I hate ironing) and thinking my man is my lord and master and the source of all of my bountiful happiness.
I'm not ready to be spread-eagled in a hospital whilst all and sundry look at my fandora in anticipation of my baby. I'm definitely not ready for that ripping I've heard about!

I'll never ready to live a life of insecurity because my relationship decisions are based on gnawing fear that I don't want to be alone and that I and everyone else will think less of me if I'm not part of a twosome no matter what the quality of a relationship.

That's my choice and I'm sticking with it!

New Addition/Dark Revelations

We had to attend a family christening today and we made the almost 3 hour journey first thing this morning, got lost and I had to call my father for directions. The boyf was hungover to the teeth as we'd been at a party last night where he put away a lot of rum in some weird boy-chummy drinking game. Anyway...I digress.... Several phonecalls and we finally seem to be headed in the right direction and my father says that he has a surprise for me. My first thought is that he has actually got me something for my birthday but being a pisstaker, I wisecrack "Well I hope there isn't a new addition to the family?!" which was followed by an uncomfortable silence and him saying "Well...."

I froze in the car and wondered if his was about to mortify me by announcing that he and my stepmother were having another child (he should be gardening not making fricking babies). "Are you having a baby?!" I demanded. "You have a sister and she's fourteen...and you're going to meet her when you get here." I went ballistic! Let's just say that I mentioned something about learning to keep his zipper up...

When we got to the church half an hour late, he was waiting outside the church and I hissed a stream of annoyance and anger at him, which to be fair to him, he took in his stride. Mind you, he is part of a family of strong, loud, bossy black women who constantly put him back in his box. The boyf steered me into the church and I sat between him and my dad and tried to push down the confusing emotions that were swirling around me. "She's sitting behind you" my father whispered and I stole a glance but couldn't figure out which one she was so I turned back and focused on the service. Later in the toilets the boyf cajoled me into talking and not fighting with my father so when I walked out of the church I had a tight smile plastered on my face. "I wonder how many of them know what has just happened?" Oh, didn't I mention? I am the LAST to know! (And the bro ...)

At the pub where the reception was held I had a very long and frank conversation with him and we were OK at the end. He introduced me to her and it was tense and I felt us both sizing each other up. I also felt what felt like a million eyes watching my every movement. I don't know if the smile travelled to my eyes, but I tried my best. Maybe, if I had some forewarning I could have been prepared.....

I found my stepmother in the other side of the bar hidden away from everyone and I realised that no matter how I, or my two step-sisters feel (they only found out recently), there is someone who is in a hell of a lot more pain than me who needed my support today. Initially it was difficult for us both not to cry, but we talked for a long time and because I don't know what else to do in these situations, I took the piss a bit as well. Later as we all sat together eating, with it feeling more than a little uncomfortable I said, "Well! When you said you had a surprise for me, I thought you meant a birthday present! Just so you know for future reference, I like bags, I like shoes, I like CDs, DVDs, money, books and a whole host of things! OK?" and the boyf, my father, step-mother and sisters cracked up laughing.

I'm at home now with the boyf and finally a little while ago, I caved and big horrible tears came out leaving his shirt soaking wet. I know I'm 29 and maybe I shouldn't give a monkey's but not only am I in shock at the 'surprise' but I feel inexplicably hurt. OK, the waterworks my start again...

Thoughts over the last few days....

1) Me + builders = heart attack
Coming home and finding a 'shell' of a kitchen, dust everywhere, and my sitting room chock full of cupboards had me close to hyperventilating with the sheer shock of it. Builders seem to be posher these days as the brief time I saw them, there wasn't a bumcrack in sight....

2) Tina Turner is leaving tomorrow and I'm gutted! After almost two years of abusing each other, cackling together, ganging up on the boss, tears, tantrums, and growler-grazers (very short dresses and skirts) the silly cow is heading off to go travelling (I wonder if she is going on the Simply The Best Tour....) and pursue new adventures. Much as we damn well near murdered each other at times and drove our bosses insane with the bickering, I am going to miss her so badly! Today she looks like the Asian Evita in her polka-dot, red off the shoulder dress and she has put away the Tina Turner (sometimes Toyah Wilcox....) hair in a pony tail. Shame on her for not wearing a fanny-skimmer for old times sake!

3) Boys are drama queens sometimes (a lot). The boyf's car decided not to start on Tuesday, which is obviously annoying but led to him being in a mega grumpy mood with more than a hint of over-sensitivity about a couple of conversations we had. Naturally we're both stressed out between work/builders/chaotic home/family so I can understand it to a certain extent but I can't understand why he couldn't just say he was in a pisser with me, instead of pretending he wasn't and THEN telling me yesterday morning in a jokey way just before we got on the train. So being half asleep, I just chose to let it go over my head and not react, which further annoyed him and resulted in him stalking off in a huff when we got to Victoria Station. I was surprised, momentarily hurt and then burst out laughing. There was a time when something like that with an ex would have resulted in me taking it to the nth degree and starting our own war, but I just phoned him when I got to work, asked him what the hell he thought he was playing at and we talked and made up. I'm glad that whilst they are few and far between, we do have disagreements as we're normal people and we can't see eye to eye all the time.

4) The boyf is denying leaving wet towels around and claimed that the one time I pointed it out to him was the only time he has done it since we've been living together. It has had the desired effect as his competitive spirit means that he loves to prove me wrong and he is now hanging up his towel.

5) Quite a few people I know now refer to the boyf as 'the boyf' when they're talking to me. Strange!

6) The boyf has lost the garage key and is driving me insane by looking for it in the same place OVER, and OVER, and OVER again. Then he says this morning 'Well I haven't dreamt about the keys so I haven't lost them.' Am I living with Mystic Meg?

7) Why does the boyf need to talk about his bowel movements so much?

8) Who knew that living together could be so much fun?