Friday, December 21, 2007

Another day, another dollar

So once again I was the most pissed person at the Christmas do yesterday, ably supported by The Usual Suspects (the *nice* colleagues). I thought the only part of the day I had forgotten was the journey home but I am beginning to realise that there are a lot more blanks than I thought there were. I don't think I want to know the details that are slowly emerging. Ah well. I'm now off til the new year by which time there will be far too much wine under the bridge for me to still be the biggest pisshead the world has ever seen. Hopefully. I mean, there's always Amy Winehouse.

If the Chinese Calendar had a Year of the Arse, 2007 would have been it. What a thoroughly crap 12 months we have had. I think the very fact that OK! magazine's Christmas cover depicts excrutiatingly dreadful glamour model Jordan as the Virgin Mary (you'll need to scroll down) sums up what most people have thought of 2007: namely, are you taking the piss? Roll on 2008 I say. Thank you and good night.

Thursday, December 20, 2007

leth talk about thecth

Last night I met up with a delightfully filthy friend from out of town. Over jugs of cocktails rather appropriately named after the seven deadly sins we talked about sex for three hours, at which point FF had to catch a train back from whence he came. FF is recently single and attracting all sorts of interesting females. The current squeeze apparently likes to talk dirty. Which would be fantastic were it not for two minor details: a) she has a lisp and b) she likes to use the word pussy rather a lot. I am still laughing about this.

Wednesday, December 19, 2007

I need a new job

1. On Friday night I finished work at 9pm. At which point my boss told me that I am a 'strange mix between being brilliant and pathetic'. This was because he asked me a question about a department that I couldn't answer because the department itself didn't know. Cheers.

2. I found out yesterday that one of my colleagues, who has cheerfully told me that he's marking time until retirement (he's in his 40s) and has no sense of doing things quickly, to wordcount or to deadline, is being considered for promotion. Is that really all you need to do - sit tight and be average? Why don't they teach you that at school?

I'm in a strange mood at the moment. I feel very hormonal, for no apparent reason. MC is getting the brunt of it and I can't really explain why. I think maybe we're spending too much time together, but that's not a good sign after 4 months is it? On Sunday we had far too much to drink and then attempted something.... experimental.... which didn't quite work out as planned. Maybe that's why I'm mad at him - I'm still in pain. Although it was all my idea and I was a very consenting adult, I hasten to add.

Wednesday, December 12, 2007

deep breath

Okay. So, last week, when I had the, erm, little problem, I had to give a sample of wee to the doctor. I took my antibiotics like a good girl and the infection has cleared. Or so I thought. Today I got a voicemail saying that 'it's nothing to worry about' but can I 'please call the doctor asap'. So I did but by the time I got the message the person who had rung had left for the day so I now have to wait until 8am tomorrow to find out what's going on.

Shiiiiiiiit. Hypochondria runs in the family - but I've never had anything like this before.

Monday, December 10, 2007

Smooth criminal

Ooh. I have been tagged by the very cute Kab. Because I'm in an indulgent mood, and also because I feel too lazy to write about my weekend of Scottish debauchery, here we go. The rules are simple. Put your iPod (yes, yes, I know other MP3 players are available) on shuffle and answer each question with the random song that comes up when you click next. Stick with it - it's better than you think. The one about my parents (no 16) actually brought tears to my eyes. I have over 3000 tracks on my computer and it picked that one.

If you want to have a go, be my guest - but most importantly let me know too so that I can have a nose.

(Oh - all will become clear about the title of this post at the end)

Demonique (Aim). So there.

Stanway’s revenge – Sidewinder (Groove Armada). Okay. One for the therapist. Obviously some anger issues there. And some snakes. Angry snakes? Jesus, I’m scary.

All the king’s horses (Joss Stone). Insert obligatory joke about stallions here.

Sofa rockers (sofa surfers) (Kruder & Dorfmeister). True – I am very tired. Driving out to rescue a stranded MC from Oxford Circus at 12.30am on a Sunday night was not conducive to end-of-weekend relaxation time.

Lovers in the back seat (Scissor Sisters). I knew it all along.

El capitalismo foraneo (Gotan Project). Vive la revolution (and in a nod to capitalismo, vive la shoe fund).

Twelve (Jurassic 5). I have some strange friends.

I don’t wanna lose my way (hmm not sure who this is by, it’s from an old Cream dance album). I think they were more worried about this happening to me than the other way round.

Track 8 (Franz Ferdinand). I have strange friends because quite clearly I am strange too.

10. WHAT IS 2+2?
Through the window pane (Guillemots). Maths was never my forte.

Into the valley (Skids). Well, if she’s off to the valley I’m coming too… armed with plenty of champagne and a few canapes.

California dreamin' (the Mamas and Papas). Um, we’re going to New York next year (Geography was never my forte either).

Me and my monkey (Robbie Willams). Couldn’t have put it better myself, Robbie. I may have to rename this blog.

In my arms (Snow Patrol). Well, ideally not in my own arms. Although it's probably an easier ambition.

Situations (Jack Johnson). Too right.

I miss you now (Stereophonics). Oh my God. I can’t believe that came up. I miss you too. x (A couple of weeks ago I dreamt that my father phoned me. I know it was only a dream but now every night before I go to sleep I can't help but ask him to call me again. He hasn't).

In the ghetto (Elvis). And they say romance is dead.

Love Foolosophy (Jamiroquai). Hmm, surely this and no 17 should be reversed?

Don’t (Elvis). Why not? It’s fun.

Switch (TLC). But don’t tell anyone.

Bloodthirsty bastards (Dirty Pretty Things). Again, I am not making this up. Sorry friends. But the iTunes shuffle has spoken ;)

Smooth criminal (Alien Ant Farm). Ooh. Told you it would all make sense eventually. Now go back to sleep.

Tuesday, December 4, 2007

How to make a good impression

Doctor: so, yes, you definitely have an infection. I'm going to give you a course of antibiotics.

Me: Oh, great, thanks.


Me: So, um, will I be able to drink alcohol while I'm taking them?

Doctor: Well, it's not advisable. But [leans forward confidentially and winks] you can have a glass of wine.

Me: Ah, that's um, nice.

[another pause while Doctor looks up my records on her PC]

Doctor: Hmm, there is one note that's popped up on the computer. It says I should ask you about your smoking...?

Me: Smoking! Oh no, I don't smoke anymore. I gave up ages ago.

Doctor: Right. When, exactly?

Me: [thinks hard and tries to ignore cigarettes smoked last Wednesday]. About erm... 4 years ago?

Doctor: Well done! [like hell you did]. Well, here's your prescription, hope you feel better soon.

Me: Um, sorry, just one more quick question. I mean I haven't, errr, been, you know, while I... but when can I, um, well, er, [speaks really quickly] WHENCANIHAVESEX?

It's a good job I work in an industry that requires me to be articulate, eloquent and diplomatic at all times isn't it?

The answer, by the way, is whenever I want to! hurrah. But here's a top tip: always go to the toilet afterwards and try to wee. Here endeth the lesson (I hope).

Monday, December 3, 2007

annoying afflictions

I've had a few in my time... coughs are obviously very irritating; teenage spots are unavoidably embarrassing (although these days I tend to view the occasional blemish as a sign of youth - despressing ain't it) and experiencing explosive tummy problems in the cubicle adjoining that of my best friend is an episode I have simply blocked from my memory.

While my latest illness isn't mortifying on a major scale, it is slowly driving me mad. I have cystitis. And it's not going anywhere. I actually thought I'd managed to shift it at the weekend, so promptly went out and drank a vat of white wine in celebration. And now it's getting its revenge. I am under strict instructions from all my girlfriends to drink water at record levels (under usual circumstances I average half a litre a day. Today I think I've had about nine) which is supposed to flush it out. But in all honesty I'm getting rather fed up with weeing what feels like vinegar every 20 minutes. It just hurts, okay? Poor MC isn't having much fun either, as a direct result of all this. I bought him a naughty advent calendar on saturday to cheer him up but eating chocolates in the shape of various sexual positions isn't the same is it?

So tomorrow morning, I shall be at my doctors' surgery at the twilight hour of 8am in the hope of securing 2 seconds of time with somebody capable of writing me a prescription for antibiotics. Because of course it would be far too simple for me to do that old fashioned thing of agreeing a particular time in advance to see my GP. I love the NHS. It's the last bastion of bureaucracy at its most farcical, with the possible exception of another organization that's dear to my heart - the one that pays the rent.

Friday, November 30, 2007

Happy birthday dad.

Rest in peace xx

Thursday, November 29, 2007

Brief encounters

Yesterday I met an agnostic Rabbi, a rural Vicar with a taste for adventure and a friend I hadn't seen for ten years. It's so refreshing to mix with different people once in a while. Exhausting and quite crazy, but ultimately good food for the soul.

The agnostic Rabbi is rapidly becoming a bit of a spiritual mentor for me. He absolutely fascinates me. I have long believed in fate, but not God. He, I suspect, believes in neither, but he absolutely passionately believes in people. The rural vicar is the same. He spent three weeks living in isolation in a cave in Egypt to reflect the story of St Antony (please don't ask me what that was) and said that what he learned was that, having always believed that he liked his own company, he actually loved other people more. I can relate to that - but I don't feel the need to live in a cave for three weeks to prove the point.

The old friend has had a fucked up 2007 rather like the rest of us. She is a very free spirit, and people tend to take advantage of that. She told me that J, an ex-boyfriend of mine from university days, is now in prison doing a ten year stretch - he was caught with 2kg of cocaine. Clever boy.

Funnily enough I randomly looked him up on Facebook three days ago. No wonder I couldn't find him. He always liked his recreationals and was a small time dealer when we hooked up so I guess he decided to make a career out of it. There's more money in barbiturates than there is in barwork, unfortunately. I feel a bit sorry for him actually. As unhinged as he was, he had a lot of sadness in his life. It's funny to think about how life can turn out, isn't it?

Thursday, November 22, 2007

the great chocolate sauce experiment

Things I have learned in the last 24 hours:

1. Experimenting with ice cream topping as impromptu body paint does not work. In fact it results in a sticky mess, it's incredibly difficult to lick off and it's far too sweet to consume in any quantity without being overwhelmed by nausea. The only cure is...

2. decent lingerie and an expensive pair of knee high boots. These are absolutely foolproof.

I told MC about this blog last night. I've been debating whether or not to send him the link for a while now - while on the one hand I don't like having secrets from him, on the other, this is very much my domain and everybody needs their own bit of space, right? So I told him, primarily about the old blog and how it came to an end, and then I fessed up about this place, its sequel. He didn't ask for the address and I didn't volunteer it but at some stage I think I will. In fact he had only one request: can I please refer to him as my Enormous-Cocked Boyfriend.


Wednesday, November 21, 2007

new hair

Last week, on the spur of the moment, I decided on a new 'do. I am highly unadventurous with my hair and have had the same style for about ten years. The colour may change by the look has remained constant - essentially a fringeless bob. So I don't know what possessed me, literally as I was sitting in the hairdresser's chair last week while she got out the scissors, to blurt out: 'what do you think I'd look like with a fringe?'

The hairdresser replied that it would be 'exciting'. My hairdresser and I were obviously not in the same place when excitement was meted out. 'Exciting' for me is riding rollercoasters in LA, or receiving expensive champagne from a mysterious admirer, or skinny dipping by moonlight in warmer climes than London. It is not cutting a straight line into the hair above my eyebrows.

Nonetheless the result is dramatic. Absolutely everybody has commented on it. Top tip: If you decide to take a long lunch hour and you need to sneak back in surreptitiously afterwards, do not return looking completely different from the way you did when you left. I may as well have entered my office sporting a Spiderman outfit and a handlebar moustache. Celebrity comparisons so far have included Betty Boo, Cleopatra and Mel C. I'm not quite sure how I feel about any of those but it's very entertaining to be creating such a stir.

Friday, November 16, 2007

pound of flesh, anyone?

Actually I'm afraid I don't think I have any left. After yet another gruelling 13 hour day at work my mother called, literally as I was walking out the door, wanting to talk to me for over an hour about my father's headstone and eventual stonesetting. She knows exactly what she wants, but she wants me to get the rabbi's approval. She also doesn't want to invite anyone to the stonesetting ceremony itself. And guess who will undoubtedly have the delight of delivering this particular concrete casserole to my father's circle?

Oh - and then there's going through dad's clothes, a heartbreaking chore that she understandably doesn't want to do on her own. In addition there's much concern about my grandmother, a wonderful 80-something who has developed a rather alarming habit of falling over a lot. So this morning I rang her to check in and arrange to see her.

My sister, for her own good reasons, appears to be dealing with the situation by avoiding the UK altogether. She will literally be spending four days here in six months. Which is great for her but less so for me who, on the other hand, cannot go beyond the M25 without feeling the most overwhelming sense of guilt and the tug of an ancient umbilical cord. She emailed me last night to tell me that she has acquired rather a large phonebill. Predictably this is related to MC, who has been using her mobile while she's out of the country. I am too tired to deal with this but of course, I'm going to have to.

My soul is exhausted.

UPDATE: after I wrote this I went to the loos to get myself together. When I got there I found a white feather on my jumper, which was definitely not there before. I don't usually believe all that business about white feathers being the calling cards of angels, but just for today, I think I will. I want to.

UPDATE 2: the phonebill was nothing to do with MC after all. I should really have more faith in the boy, shouldn't I?

Thursday, November 15, 2007


I was definitely not quite right yesterday, post head-bang. I forgot where I'd parked my car (hell, I even forgot that I'd actually driven into work) and had to keep re-reading stuff because I would literally forget it two seconds later (in my defence it was boring stuff). I feel a lot better today though. Head and neck still stiff but am far more with it.

Am not enjoying work at the moment. The editor is going through one of his will-not-let-go-of-a-story-even-though-it's-blatantly-dead-in-the-water moods. It is driving us all to drink.

Wednesday, November 14, 2007

On Monday night I almost called time on MC. It was a very boring and middle class dispute over money - namely me paying for everything while he pleaded poverty, only for him to suddenly announce that he was going out drinking with his mate. I completely lost it. My ex and I used to throw lava lamps at each other when we rowed - and once he went one step further and threw me against a wall. MC was very calm and upset - and he didn't go for the drink. How things have changed.

Anyway we made up by getting absolutely hammered on free wine (so it doesn't count) at some press do last night. And then decided it would be great fun to go ice skating. I have never had problems on skates but on this occasion the pissedness overtook me and I just couldn't stand up. I was like Maggie Simpson on ice and cracked just about every surface of skin possible as I fell over repeatedly - including the back of my head. I am covered in bruises but I woke up in MC's arms this morning and realised just how smitten I am. He's a really lovely boy. With or without money.

Monday, November 5, 2007

Variety is the spice of life

This time two days ago I was sitting in a very decadent little club in Chancery Lane drinking champagne, eating finger-sliced cucumber sandwiches and scones and watching some excellent burlesque cabaret involving, among other things, peacock feathers and chocolate eclairs.

Afternoon Tease is just that - good old fashioned tea and cake with plenty of titilation thrown in. I wore my finest shoes - a black satin pair with bows at the back and vertiginous silver stilleto heels, courtesy of my lovely little sister. I felt fabulous. The girls were mesmerisingly sexy and the cakes were divine. The only slight fly in the ointment was the yummy new mummy to my right who spent 45 minutes telling me the story of her monstrous birth. On the other hand it was a wise reminder of the importance of remembering to take one's oral contraceptives, something I have been a tad laissez-faire about lately, for no reason other than general dizziness. Not clever, I admit.

I resisted the call of the karaoke bar afterwards and headed home after spending far too much money during a champagne/burlesque-fuelled trip to Selfridges en route. I realise now that red lacy french knickers and silk panties which tie up at the sides are completely impractical in terms of potential a) VPL and b) total fall-out (gah) but they seemed like a good idea at the time. Needless to say MC is a happy man which I suppose is what it's all about. I have no intention of ever wearing either of them out in public.

I spent Sunday morning in a secret nuclear bunker. Seriously. MC and I were on our way to check out a farm we'd seen ont'telly (we are that shallow - and also they do very good sausages, no euphemism intended) when MC realised that this crazy place he'd heard about was on the way. It is really incredible. It's in the middle of fields and woodland and appears to be deserted - you just wander in, pick up an audio guide and head down this loooooong tunnel to the reinforced steel doors which guard the bunker entrance. The whole thing was designed to keep 600 people alive for 3 months in the event of nuclear war and, scarily, was only decommissioned 13 years ago. The walls are 10 feet thick and it's packed with old equipment - telexes, BBCB computers, a radio studio and clunky mobile phones that I haven't seen since the early 80s. It even contained a rather sinister old fashioned medical bay with basic operating equipment... next to the coffins. Nice touch.

All in all a productive weekend and the last one in quite a while that is truly my own. MC and I have been invited down to stay with his parents next weekend. It will be my inaugural visit and I'm secretly rather nervous. Undoubtedly it will be a weekend of sensible pants and no champagne.

Thursday, November 1, 2007

'sleb spotting

I saw Cheryl Cole and Nicola Roberts from Girls Aloud today. I was leaving a tv studio just as they were walking towards it. She's still hard as nails that Cheryl Cole but really very beautiful in the flesh. And so, so tiny. She was wearing a plain fitted black suit and I swear I could have circled her entire waist in my hands.

Nicola Roberts on the other hand appeared to be going for the Queen Elizabeth I look. Thick white foundation and pantomime red blusher streaked across her cheekbones. Lashings of eyeliner and mascara. So I did the one thing you're never supposed to do when you see famous people in a professional capacity. I gawped. For all the wrong reasons. She looked absolutely frightful. I wish I had a halloween fancy dress party to go to now... she would be such an inspiration.

Friday, October 26, 2007


MC came round late last night with what I can only describe as whooping cough. If I didn't know better I would swear he'd spent 20 years working down a coal mine. So I made him soup, did his washing and generally soothed him, and wondered exactly when I turned into his mother. Mind you I was so tired by the time we went to bed that at least I slept through the snoring, if there was any. Still, I was sad to leave him in my nice warm bed while I went off to work this morning - although I'm not missing the spluttering. Can a person get cotton lung from working on a website?

Thursday, October 25, 2007

working from home

I could get used to this. I've managed to get so much done with so little interruption. It felt quite weird ringing up the Mayor of London's press office for an official comment knowing that I was clad in a satin nightie and MC's boxer shorts, but hey, I could never have got away with that in the office. I only got dressed about an hour ago when somebody came round in my father's car, much to my confusion.

Last weekend dad's car disappeared. I got back to my family home after dropping my mother at the airport to find that where his green Landrover had been when we left, a mysterious blue Renault Scenic now sat instead. I actually thought I'd come to the wrong house at first. Very strange. Stranger still though, is that today, it came back. I looked out of the window and saw it parked in the road. A little crop of blond hair was peeping out of it so I went downstairs to investigate. Turns out the battery had gone flat and my mother had asked this incredibly looking chap (well done mum) to sort it out.

I am quite sure it doesn't take five days to charge a battery but he was so beautiful, I don't care what he was doing with it. I just wished I'd bothered to do my hair this morning. Apparently we've met before but I am quite, quite sure I wouldn't have forgotten a face like that.

Wednesday, October 24, 2007

can't get no sleep

Sleep has not been very high on my agenda this week. I am currently house sitting as my remaining family members have sodded off to respective sunnier climes leaving me and the cat (Caviar, see below) to keep things ticking over while they're away. Caviar has already figured out that if she looks at me pathetically enough I'll cave in and give her turkey or smoked salmon from the fridge rather than crack open a foul-smelling tin of cat food. My mother is going to kill me.

The reasons for my fatigue are:

1. I have to get up so bloody early. The family fortress is a long way from work. This morning I awoke at 6.30am in order to get into town for an 8.30am meeting at which, by the way, I was presented with a highly unsatisfactory breakfast. My pain au chocolat was the size of a raisin - and less filling. For that I got up at the crack of dawn?

2. On Monday night, MC took pity on my hellish day at work (a 13 hour shift, oh joy), came to meet me and escorted me home. While no nookie ensued (I am secretly concerned about the durability of the bed in my old room), we talked for hours and then, just as we were drifting off, he started snoring. I have been conned on this front. When we first got together he told me he was snoring temporarily because he had a cold. The cold has long gone but the snoring remains. Hmm.

3. Last night my dear friend Wine Lover came round to keep me company. This obviously involved a lot of wine, a takeaway and a gossip which lasted into the early hours (see point 1).

4. I am currently reading Belle de Jour's diary so what little sleep I do get is filled with deliciously dirty yet annoyingly stimulating dreams.

5. I am utterly surrounded by memories of dad. Every single item in the house has a connection to him. It's a constant and at times overwhelming reminder of what I have lost.

Thursday, October 18, 2007

a visit from the hangover fairy

We're talking sitting at work sweating wine, being unable to sit still or stand up, feeling sick but starving at the same time, trying without much success to string a sentence together and having the attention span of a gnat's arsehole. All while attempting to provide intelligent coverage of a story about the BBC having to lose 2000 staff (I can't bring myself to go through it all again here so all I'll do is quote Jeremy Paxman who, back in August, said it was 'something of a mystery' to him that there could be a 'budget crisis in an organisation with an assured income of £3.5bn'. Quite). Oh and then there's been the other meeja tale of pesky ITV making £18m out of fake tv competitions and votes. Tsk. But honestly, who is stupid enough to ring these shows anyway?

That pretty much sums up both my mood and my day. I haven't had a hangover this bad in ages. It's like all the hangovers I've ever managed to escape have returned to haunt me at once. Just my luck that this has to occur on the busiest working day I've had in ages. Thank you, God Beadle.

PS MC and I have a new toy. I never knew cock rings could be such fun...

Tuesday, October 16, 2007

tired and emotional

I'm averaging 10 hours sleep each night at the moment and still I'm permanently exhausted. Either I've acquired an exciting new sleeping disorder or I'm mentally preparing for hibernation. I have always been a big fan of the whole idea of sleeping through the winter. I think life would be a lot more pleasurable if I was only awake for half of it.

Friday, October 12, 2007


Before he met me Monte Cristo had a fling with a girl who I'll call Jane. It was, according to MC, one of those liaisons that you spend most of the time trying to escape from. They split up (if you can call it that) about 3 weeks before we got together. Essentially, he says, he just wasn't that into her, although she was by all accounts very into him. I'm inclined to believe him - within a week of meeting me he suggested that we change our Facebook statuses accordingly (the joys of modern life) whereas I know that he wasn't listed as being in a relationship at the time he was seeing J, because we were Facebook friends by then although we hadn't actually met (see above).

Anyway. On Wednesday I noticed that she had written a 'hi, how are you' type note on his Facebook wall. Irrationally, it made me fume. So I did the decent thing and checked out her profile. I wish I hadn't but of course I couldn't help it. She's younger and thinner than me (gasp) but, in the words of my lovely colleague, she's also a 'gopper'. I'm not sure what that means but it doesn't sound very flattering which is fine by me.

Additionally she sounds like a manic depressive (hmm, not sure about MC's taste in women!). So now while I'm cross with her for contacting my boyfriend, I'm simultaneously concerned that if he doesn't reply (and he says he doesn't want to), she'll do something stupid. I guess it can't have been easy for her. Imagine seeing someone for a couple of months who expresses no interest whatsoever in a relationship. Then within 4 weeks of being dumped you see them proclaiming to the world that they have a new girlfriend. But would you then get in touch with them? I'd like to think that, even if I wanted to, my friends wouldn't let me.

Tuesday, October 9, 2007

animal magic

At my family home there were two pets in residence. Both cats. Let's call them Champagne and Caviar (because hell, that's what I'd call them now). Champagne was my cat - a stray tabby who turned up on the doorstep when I was about ten years old, and won my heart. Caviar was brought for my sister A as a kitten and immediately adopted her as its new mother. They were inseparable.

Before Caviar arrived on the scene, A, being quite small at the time, tried to bond with Champagne too by showering it with the typical affectionate gestures of a five year old - pulling its tail and occasionally trying to eat it. Champagne, being a bit of a cool cat at the best of times, was not impressed. But Caviar never seemed to mind A's occasionally clumsy but always well-intentioned adoration.

Just as Champagne and Caviar studiously ignored each other at all times (they would both turn their heads away on the rare occasions that they walked past each other in the house), so Caviar and I also had a relationship based on mutual avoidance. She didn't bother me, I didn't bother her, and it suited us both fine. Our parents, while professing to like neither pet, were often to be found cuddling up to them and were always their best hope for a breakfast bowl of Whiskas (other pet foods are available).

Sadly Champagne left us for the great cattery in the sky a couple of years ago. And with A away at university Caviar rattled around the house with mum and dad. At that point, much to everyone's surprise, she bonded with dad. She slept on his bed, and while he complained that she would nibble his toes in the night, he never kicked her out and always left his door ajar for her. He would often scoop her up and stroke her and while she wriggled half heartedly she never jumped out of his arms. They were, in a strange way, like an old married couple. Caviar and I however, continued as we always had whenever I was home, by not acknowledging each other at all.

We think she misses dad. For the first few days I swear she wandered around looking for him. But what's really strange is that suddenly she's all over me. On Sunday afternoon I sat in the garden on my own and got a little bit tearful. Suddenly Caviar shot all the way up the garden from the garden behind and jumped onto my lap. She has never, ever done that before. Earlier, when I'd gone up to use the bathroom, she followed me up the stairs and waited for me before following me back down again. Mum thinks she can sense that I'm somehow connected to Dad. Funny how she never noticed before though eh?

Wednesday, October 3, 2007

where is everybody?

Damn, I just wrote a whole post and it disappeared. Maybe that's why half of my blog friends seem to have shut up blog and disappeared since I went away. Please come back. There's virtual tumbleweed blowing through

Cornwall was beautiful and Monte Cristo was divine. With the exception of one drunken argument (aren't they always) we got on scarily well - we just really seem to click. Oh and we shared a rather spectacular night of passion in the four poster bed of a hotel room overlooking the sea. It was my bodice-ripping-heroine-in-romantic-novel moment. MC really knows how to make me weak at the knees.

Now that we're back though, real life has begun to bite. The ugly issue of money has raised its head and it's a much bigger deal than I thought it would be. Basically there's a difference in income (with me on top) which bothers him far more than it bothers me. I do of course understand that. But I don't know what the solution is, apart from to nudge him gently in the direction of various job ads. It frustrates him and, I think, makes him feel emasculated - he said the other day that he's scared he'll lose me over it. I reassured him but to be honest I feel frustrated too - I'm not a rich bitch but I earn enough to live comfortably and fund my wine habit, which suits me fine. I don't really want to change my lifestyle but I don't want to leave him out of it either. Its a no-win.

Friday, September 21, 2007

no sooner have i started a new blog...

... than I'm going to have to leave you all in suspense for another week. I'm off to the seaside with Monte Cristo. When I get back I'm going to need some advice on two things: one, what on earth is going on with the links on the right hand side of this page?! and two. Well, two is a more delicate one that I'm kind of hoping will have resolved itself by next week. Fingers crossed.

until then, adios! x

Tuesday, September 18, 2007

A new start

Here's where the story continues. After my 20s came to a rather traumatic conclusion it felt right more than ever to draw a line under the Twentysomething blog. Thanks to everybody who visited, commented and generally joined in the fun as well as keeping me going through the dark times over the last four years (was it really that long?). And welcome to Zuzula's new pad!

I'm back at work now - I realised after mum tried to buy the weekend papers on Wednesday morning last week that it was time to get a grip on reality again. And so far, so good. It's helping me to have a routine again. Although Day One was totally exhausting. By 4pm I was on my knees, for all the wrong reasons. Thankfully I'm off again next week - Monte Cristo and I had been planning a mini break in Cornwall and now I want to go more than ever. We're staying in a four poster bedroom in a gorgeous olde worlde inn in a tiny fishing village. Bliss - and a sure sign that I really am getting old. Time was when a good holiday meant a package deal to Tenerife where lethal looking cocktails cost 50p and are 2 for the price of 1.

I've noticed that in the last week or so I can't do enough of everything that simply reminds me that I'm alive: eating, drinking, running around, sleeping and, yes, having lots of sex. Thank God I have the opportunity right now. Otherwise I'd be climbing the walls I think. Strange isn't it?