Diary of a Daydream Believer

List of crazyness

2011-04-30T06:36:00.001-07:00

Dear Diary,

So for some reason I am in a huge strop at the moment, thinking of all the things I could be accomplishing right now, and all the things I haven't. I want to do completely mental shit, however mundane or "out there" - that people will either remember, laugh at, or at the very least say "What the FUCK?" about. Maybe it's something to do with nearly being quarter of a century old, or being in a sensible comitted relationship with a slightly older bloke. Either way, I feel like rebelling slightly, and remembering all the weird crazy things I've been up to during my time on Earth so far - things that may be weird but make me strangely proud (in a way that suggests I'm not as boring as I think I am). So here goes:

CRAZY THINGS I HAVE DONE THAT OTHER PEOPLE POSSIBLY HAVEN'T (OR MOST LIKELY HAVE) DONE:

I HAVE:

Had a threesome
Taken a train to another city under a false pretext, purely to stalk someone
Smoked weed
Done sexual things with a gay friend
Written/directed a play
Used an alias
Snorted tequila off a spoon
Tried to break up a lesbian fight and accidentally gotten punched in the chin
Got so drunk I was found huddled with a strange lad under an umbrella and a coat on a pavement in the Gay Village, pretending to be an "art installation"
Had sex in a public place
Got drunk before 11am
Swallowed a magnet
Groped Kamal from Big Brother's fake breasts (sober, one afternoon)
Got off my tits in Amsterdam
Slept with someone over 40
Wandered around a supermarket in high heels
Lay on my back in some Welsh woods in the pitch black at midnight (ok, it was part of a writing class exercise)
Met and chatted to the producers of the "Saw" films
Drank champagne and eaten lobster in the Hilton
Sang on Radio 4
Slept with a woman
Drank a pint compiled entirely of the following ingredients: Barcardi, Vodka, Sambuca, Tequila, Brandy, Jack Daniels, Glava, and Gin.
Sold dildos professionally
Been bought pizza by Michael Jackson (as part of a crowd, but still......)
Had a stalker
Visited Ireland, Scotland, Wales, France, Germany, Spain, Portugal, Italy, Prague, Switzerland, Amsterdam, Oxford, London, Newcastle, Edinburgh, and Liverpool.
Streaked across a golf course
Been proposed to atop the Eiffel Tower (as a joke, but still.....!)
Done at least three quarters of the outlandish, whore-ish things work colleagues jokingly accuse me of doing
Eaten 12 easter eggs in a day
Watched porn while someone slept next to me

There's probably more besides, but can't think of anymore right now. To be continued......!!

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And again..........

2011-02-26T13:08:00.000-08:00

Dear Diary,

Had another M incident today. Nothing much, just bumped into him in the break room and started chatting about his weekend. Tried to get more out of him about what he'd told his mum about me, to no avail. I told him he'd planted a seed in my head which I was constantly thinking about, and with that lovely, teasing look in his brown eyes, he said "Exactly, I'm just going to water that seed until it grows bigger and bigger and explodes!" I mean, COME ON!! Told him he sounded like an innuendo-laden Carry On character, which made him laugh (and consequently, made my heart beat a little faster).

Texted him on the way home, begging him to tell me, he said "the constant questions are great and funny, he was close to telling me, but not just yet....." He also told me he'd said nothing but nice stuff, and his mum had "reacted to it in a certain way." What does this MEAN??! It's driving me mad to be honest, and the only way I can think of to get the info out of him is to get him drunk. Except, without his mate in work (who's currently in hospital), and no excuse to invite him out, I have no idea how to do this. I'm just going to have to sit it out and see what happens.

One thing I do know, it's driving me mental - and I have a feeling that the answer will either knock my socks off or destroy me. Either way, all I think about all day is seeing him at work, even if it's just to share 3 seconds of meaningless smalltalk. Today as I was sat at the table readiing and eating lunch, he walked past, and as he passed me, he murmured "Hey," and touched my shoulder. And not just a friendly pat, a slight touch. Goosebumps don't even cover it.

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Serious trouble

2011-02-26T13:06:00.000-08:00

Dear Diary,

There are two incidents I would like to talk about, that have really been messing with my head recently. And not because I have anything to feel guilty about, but because of the way they made me feel.
There is a guy at work, the friend of a guy on my team. He's good-looking, funny, and INCREDIBLY tall..... and has a very slooooow laid back way of talking that makes me automatically feel relaxed. And he has a smile that comes slowly at first, and then lights up the room. His name is M.

Back in October, there was a pub quiz at work, which I ended up getting very drunk at. It was the first time I'd gone out with work friends, and indeed the first time I'd ever chatted to M. But he was loads of fun to hang around with, we cheated a fair bit by looking at the answers on his phone, and generally had a laugh. Towards the end of the night though, the music was turned up and I was dancing on my own - when, without permission, I felt two hands encircle my waist and someone dancing behind me, pressed up against my back...... something Joe has never EVER done, without me asking him to, anyway. I literally started to melt. But however amazing it felt, I batted the hands away, turned around to face what turned out to be M, and told him I had a boyfriend. He held his hands up, apologised straight away, and told me he didn't know. We laughed about it, and left it at that - an honest mistake, nothing to worry about.

But I still ran to the loo, and sat there, shaking. It wasn't so much anything that happened, it was what hadn't. Despite having been with Joe for about 18 months, and having numerous amounts of sex, I couldn't think of any time when he'd touched me in such an intimate way. However, I pulled myself together and went back outside, where we chatted, laughed, and generally drank more.

At the end of the night, however, that's when things went worse. After watching me drunkenly try 6 times to sit on the high-up window seat outside the pub, M came along, lifted me CLEAN off the floor, and plonked me down on the window seat (which I was naturally very impressed with). We chatted some more, until my taxi turned up. But after I'd jumped back to the floor and given everyone a hug goodbye, M pulled away from his hug and gave me a kiss on the cheek, whilst murmuring "Sorry about before" in my ear. Which wouldn't be too bad, except his goodbye-kiss was WAY softer than it should have been, and lasted a little longer than it should have done. Still nothing more than a friendly peck, but the slow, easy intimacy of it made me shiver, break out in goosebumps, flush bright red, and stumble away, thrown completely off-balance by that phantom kiss.

Whilst unable to forget about it, I still managed to put the incident to the back of my mind and pass it off as "one of those things." Whenever I saw M at work, we chatted as easily as close friends, took the piss out of each other, but hardly mentioned the pub quiz night, except in jokes. His mate constantly teased me and M whenever he walked past our team, and it all became something to laugh at, no matter how embarrassed I'd get about it.

But the next incident happened a few months later. I saw M less and less during work, and eventually I stopped looking for him. Soon, though, it became the Friday after a payday, and the friend off my team invited me to join him, his wife, a few people off our team, and M for drinks after work. So naturally, I said yes, and soon we were off. M and I were fine with each other, except for a moment where, whilst proving a point about how cold he was, he touched my hand over the table, in mid-air. He laughed and said how warm mine were, whilst all I could feel was my skin burning, like his touch had given me an electric shock. I could feel my face go bright red, so I pulled my hand away and went to the bar for another cocktail. He followed me and told me I'd lost weight - I jokingly told him he was every girl's dream.

Later, though, he'd disappeared for a bit, so assuming he'd nipped out for a cigarette, I popped downstairs to the loo. Unfortunately, he was in the loo too, and crossed me on the stairs. We ended up talking for a bit, he apologised for being all distant recently, and told me that since he found out I had a boyfriend at the pub quiz, he'd been trying to keep his distance a bit. I asked why he'd felt the need to stay away - and his reply? "Isn't it obvious?" I swear to god, my knees went weak and my eyes went blurry. At that point, I dazedly felt the banister behind my hands, and realised I was standing with my back to the wall, as he stood in front of me, drawing nearer (in a non-threatening way, obviously). I was very aware of my position, and all I could think was; "What if someone comes down the stairs, how will this look?" But he didn't make the crucial move forward - and neither did I. I knew that as much as I wanted to, as much as my body was yelling for me to do it - to do so would be suicide, and I'd lose everything with Joe. We just stayed there for ages, staring into each other's eyes. All I could do was mumble; "I'm in trouble, I'm in so much trouble," whilst occasionally staring at the floor. I could feel every inch of his body, not touching me, but stood in front of me, his hands on my waist - and all I could hear was my heart pounding. I'm surprised he didn't see it, thumping out my chest. I could literally almost feel electricity crackling in the space between our bodies. Eventually, I realised we'd been stood staring at each other in silence for about a minute, ripped myself away with a mumbled "Sorry" and fled to the loo. I sat there, and gripped my arms, breathing heavily. All I could think of was Joe, and how I'd almost crossed a line - but also of that heart-stopping chemistry M had made me feel with a single touch. I knew then, that I was well and truly fucked.

I eventually returned to the bar table, laughing and joking and trying to pretend everything was normal. Much to my horror though, Team-mate and his wife were now leaving to catch a film, and my other team-mates had gone to take part in a huge bike ride. So there we were, me and M, left behind on our own. And you could cut the tension with a knife. So I did the only thing I could - got even more drunk, ran back and forth from the bar, encouraging M to try several girly cocktails (which he happily accepted) and breezing things over with my own geeky sense of humour and a knack for ignoring the elephant in the room (years of practice living with Mum and Dad). And we were having a ball. We have a pretty similar sense of humour, and found it really easy to talk about things - it was like hanging out with a friend. Until the inevitable came up. To be fair, neither of us could really ignore it any longer.

At least we talked about it like adults. In the past, with the few men who've found me attractive, I've been all passive and jokey and girlish about it. But this was different. We admitted we both found each other amazing, and were madly attracted to each other. He said I was "unbelievably sweet" and a "lovely, funny girl." I told him I was with Joe and would do nothing to hurt him - he said he respected that and understood, and that he wouldn't push me at all. I stared at my lap, tears brimming, furious at myself for getting in this situation, and furious that there was fuck-all I could do about it. He put his hand against my cheek and stroked it, as I stared into his eyes, those heart-breaking brown eyes that always seemed to smile, even in serious situations.
Eventually we left, and as we walked to the tram stop, he reached out and held my hand. And that simple act, something I've done with countless friends whilst drunk, felt incredible. It was almost as if he knew how shaky and off-balance I felt (and not just because of the cocktails) and wanted to hold me safely upright. I felt my heart turn over, as we said goodbye and he gave me a brief but soft peck on the lips. My insides melted and I spent the whole tram journey trying to stop shaking.

And this is why I'm fucked. Because now I can't stop thinking about him. Because I feel more chemistry with him from the smallest incidents, than I have in almost 2 years with Joe. Because all my senses seem to know when he's approaching, I can hear his laugh and know when he's nearby, and I plan every day wondering what I'm going to wear or say to him if I see him. And the awful part is, this isn't just me doing what I normally do - lusting after a person until it burns out, but never telling them. Because he's admitted - he feels it too. He told me HE gets butterflies when I walk past his desk, and HE spends the days wondering if he'll get to see me. I honestly didn't know this kind of wanting could exist without even kissing someone...... I have no idea what's going to happen. He got my number and we've texted a few times - just as I would text a mate.... fun, friendly, with a tiny bit of flirting but never overstepping the line. In one of his texts he tells me he really enjoyed talking to me, I'm a "quality girl" and he wishes I was single.

The other day, when Team-mate wasn't in, I saw him sat alone at lunch, and joined him for a bit. And halfway through the conversation he mentioned that his mum liked the sound of me. After a bit of pressing, I basically found out that he's told his mum about me. What the fuck?! Seriously, I've never had a lad this keen on me before (except Joe, and I've even been doubting that these last few months). But all I know is, the few times we've been travelling to the 3rd floors on the escalators together - as we talk, we'll be unconciously leaning in towards each other, as if trying to gather warmth from each other's bodies. Basically standing a teeny bit closer than friends would on an escalator.
Again - I am fucked. And have absolutely NO idea what to do about it.

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Yet another frustration

2010-06-06T08:11:00.000-07:00

Dear Diary,

Having just spent an entirely fruitless weekend with Joe, I have felt the need to come and let fly a super-rant. Because BOY is it needed. In summary - we have just spent an ENTIRE weekend together, and not had sex ONCE. In fact, counting the last 2 weeks (one where I was "on" and the other where we only did it once) I have just horrifically discovered that we have only had sex ONCE IN THE PAST 3 WEEKS. Wow. And that was NOT this weekend.

This weekend was thus: we had a little bit of fun on Friday (ie: I very enthusiastically gave him a "little treat," and he reciprocated - well, extremely half-heartedly with his eyes closed, barely moving, until I had to whip my trusty vibrating friend out to finish the job instead). On sunny Saturday, wearing my brand new La Senza underwear, I attempted to show them off to him, before he complained it was "so hot, he was uncomfortable" and that I was "obsessed with sex." We had the old arguement again (me apologising, as usual) and fell asleep. And then TODAY - when we got back to mine and my parents were out ALL EVENING (ie: PRIME oppurtunity to test my lovely new double bed without fear of getting caught) - I offered him a choice between seeing more new underwear, or watching some cooking programme final .................. AND HE CHOSE TO WATCH THE FINAL.

I tell you what....... there is nothing that hurts quite so much as rejection in the bedroom - even more so when there is ABSOLUTELY NO REASON FOR IT. Tired? OK, fair enough. Too hot? Oh come on, it's fun to get a little sweaty! And 3rd: "I HAVE TO GO HOME NOW"??!! OK, first of all, couldn't you have just come upstairs, oh, I don't know, ANYTIME during the last hour when I was whispering naughty things as you were watching the cricket?? And yes, the minute I propositioned him after the cricket finished, he suddenly realised he had to go home. Hmph. Forgive me for being an idealist, but I was led to believe that being in a relationship (ie: spending time together, being in love and all that), among other things, meant that you can't keep your hands off each other - and because you are not strangers, that is acceptable. Now, Joe may not be model material, nor is he blessed with a six pack. But that does not mean I don't fancy him rotten - thanks to a myriad of factors other than his looks.

But recently - we have hit a dry spell. Now, not being able to see him every night of the week is hard enough, our jobs meaning that we can only hang out at the weekends (which, even then, is split up by my job at the pub). So you'd THINK we could use that very limited time together to, shall we say, "catch up"? Because, I don't know about you, but anything less than 3 times a week is unacceptable to me. Hell, 3 times a DAY if it was up to me (which sadly - due to "compromise in relationships" etc...... it isn't). But sadly not. Come Friday night, even if I can force my own drooping eyes open long enough to start something, Joe can't. Which is fair enough, I suppose, he works long hours everyday. But come Saturday morning, we usually hop straight into town (after a good hour of SkySports or Corrie omnibus) and then I go straight to work in the afternoon. Again, I am fine with that. Well, not always, but I grit my teeth and think "it's cool, maybe we don't have to have sex ALL the time!" (even though I want to).

So come Saturday night, I'm thinking, "right, now we have all evening after work to chill out - crack open some wine, etc...." I'll shave my legs, have a shower, and generally ensure that when he sees me, I am clean, sweet-smelling, personally groomed, and wearing some knock-out underwear. But when we get back to his? The minute I start pawing him and not-so-subtly hinting at something, his response is always - ALWAYS - the same. Either; "I'm still knackered from this week," or "It doesn't have to be about sex-sex-sex ALL the time, you know!" Or, "what's wrong with you? Can't we just relax?" OK, first of all, what about sex is NOT relaxing?? It's supposed to be fun and intimate and beautiful and sexy. Does he think it's some kind of CHORE or something?? And second - whoever deemed that men think about sex every 6 seconds? BULL. SHIT. Oh, sometimes he'll succumb, but then I can't help worrying he's only doing it to shut me up, or get me off his back. And that makes me worry even more. Even more so that I'm such an ungrateful bitch I can't enjoy a weekend just doing nothing and relaxing together. Er, hello? I LOVE relaxing, but does that mean we can't add sex into the relaxing bit? Grrr....

I guess all I'm saying is I'm sick of always being the initiator in the bedroom. I wish there'd just be ONE time where he'd surprise me with a kiss that lasted more than 2 seconds, or a cheeky touch in public, or even throwing me on the bed when I'm not expecting it. Am I wrong for just wanting a bit more passion and spontenaiety in my life? Or will I have to just nut up, shut up, and wait for him to take a bit more of an active interest in me? Oh, I don't know. Maybe I should just starve myself, lose some weight and see what happens then. But if there's one thing I DO know it is this - I CAN'T talk to him about it. We've had the why-are-you-so-obsessed-with-sex-I-feel-like-I'm-letting-you-down-all-the-time conversation about 3 times now, and each time we both apologise like crazy, Joe gets all defensive, I feel dead bad, and then it's awkward for a couple of days. How can I even BEGIN to approach the "I want more passion" dilemna without sounding like I'm complaining? And on top of all that - why am I having to worry about this after only A YEAR of being together???! Shouldn't this be reserved for like, the 8th year of marriage, or something?? And besides, I know that if I DID broach it with him, his response would either be; "Oh right. I see. Well I'm sorry if I've been disappointing you," or an oh-my-god-plase-stop-talking-about-this-right-now-esque; "ALRIGHT! Sorry! Sorry sorry sorry!"

The fact of the matter is - it's a vicious circle. If I think; "right fine, fuck it. I'll completely stop initiating ANYTHING and see how long it takes him to wise up and start doing it himself" then I get bored quickly and start initiating again (I hate depriving myself of sex just to prove a point). If I stick up for myself and try and talk to him about it, he says he feels "pressured" by me, which I imagine doesn't help the sexiness, and so I apologise and we just end up doing nothing. And then I feel bad for pressuring him. So then I stop doing anything altogether, and then that means we just don't have sex. So nobody wins. This is a NIGHTMARE!!!

Yesterday, all I could think about was David - the non-existent fuck buddy. And as much as he is a dick, and a petulant twat who stopped speaking to me the minute I told him where to go....... for a few moments all I could think about were the two nights I spent with him, and how he started touching and kissing me without even having to ask. Because he KNEW when I wanted something. I kinda miss that. I've even started looking at lads at work, simply wondering what it would be like to kiss them - just.... someone different. Obviously, I would NEVER do such a thing. And I can't even CONTEMPLATE life without Joe. But I just wish he'd make more of an effort sometimes.

Yes I know, I'm shallow and ungrateful and moan too much. But I do have a FEW expectations from a relationship. Is that too much to ask?

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Strange Incident

2010-05-31T14:48:00.001-07:00

Dear Diary,

I must say, things are going pretty great at the moment!! Have not only had another payday, but am now officially part of my team!! Was made very welcome by the manager, who individually introduced me to everyone, who all good-naturedly took the piss out of how little I knew, etc.... Soon settled in though, and now I'm selling away like the little machine that I am! About time too - Joe's been hinting about us moving in together, and I'm at the point where I'd do ANYTHING to get away from Mum's nagging about me losing weight (although, obviously do want to move in with Joe so we can see each other every day and more importantly, have sex ALLLLLLLL the time). Mind you, having 2 jobs now is KILLING ME. I'm literally working 7 days a week.

That said, had a pretty amazing saturday night last week where he got all bossy and kinky on me. However rare it may be that we have sex, he sure knows how to dominate, I'll give him that!

Had a pretty weird incident the other night, though. Kyle came over for an impromptu visit, so naturally we hit all the gay bars and got pissed off our tiny tits. Later, however, about 3am back home, as we collapsed on my bed whispering and giggling (mum and dad were asleep) - Kyle suddenly sat up and blearily announced that he wanted a massage. So, like the good friend I am, I rolled up my sleeves and got to it (despite my head lurching and my vision blurring - damn Jack Daniels). Aftewards, he asked if Iwanted one, and when I agreed, told me to take my top off (!) I lay face down so as not to flash a friend - but when he started massaging, his movements got a bit more...... I don't know, sensual than my practical rub-down. So I ignored it, and continued to lie there. Until he shifted and SAT on me, so his ahem, "manhood" was pressed up against my thighs, and started ROCKING ever so slightly, with his hands massaging lower down my sides, towards my BOOBS!!!

It was so weird. Didn't know whether he was doing it on purpose or just drunkenly doing the best massage he could, so just lay still, wondering when it would end. Even tried politely telling him thanks and trying to sit up, to which he just replied; "it's ok, I don't mind carrying on!" Eeeep. But the worst bit was next: I felt him slowly massage down my arms (which, frankly, felt INCREDIBLE) which made him lean his body over me, so I could feel his breath on my neck. At this point - despite using his sexuality and drunkeness as a shield ("don't worry Kat, it won't go too far, he's just over-tactile!" etc....), even I thought this was too much, and decided to sit up. Except leaning up to meet his body not only made my poor head spin pissed-ly, but also, at that moment, felt like my body was doing exactly the right thing. As I pushed myself up to meet him, my body, once again, took complete control - so instead of sitting up and him falling off, I now appeared to be rearing up off the bed to feel him pressed against my back. Seriously, what the fuck??!

Before I knew what was happening, I felt him press harder up against me, as one hand rested on my boobs, and the other turned my head towards his for a completely unexpected kiss. And I'm ashamed to even say it, but DAAAAAAAYMN he's a good kisser. About 5 seconds too late however, my brain caught up and I pushed him away, trotting off to the spare room. Didn't even mention it the next day. Still - yikes, though. Need to stop drinking so much and be aware when wrong things look like they're about to happen.......

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New Job

2010-05-04T09:37:00.001-07:00

Dear Diary,

Well, well, well. What an amazing sitution I find myself in. Not only is my relationship with Joe stronger than ever, I also find myself in full-time employment!! And I fucking love it!!! Don't get me wrong, selling insurance is boring as hell. And I hate the training period we've just had to go through - 50% of my 5 colleagues are dickheads who irritate the shit out of me (one's your typical blonde bimbo model who you can't even IMAGINE working in an office - we suspect Daddy pulling the strings, or an interview blowjob.....)

But the main part is this: my first wage packet. I've never earnt so much in one month - EVER. Naturally went totally crazy and bought Swarovski earrings, Ugg boots, a shit load of dvds and books, and the whole of La Senza.

I love having money, fucking LOVE IT. Finally, I get to feel what it's like NOT to be broke. AND IT FEELS GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOD!!!

As to the job, it's selling insurance for a huge company, located in town, and I'm going "live" on the phones next week, as well as meeting my team. Sounds very boring, all "sales" and "targets" but I'm too nervous to think about that now.

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Current Music - "I just can't stop loving you" - MJ

More relief

2010-04-04T16:13:00.000-07:00

Dear Diary,

Well, all was ok in the end. Went to work at the pub in a huge huff, spent all shift glaring psychopathically at my phone and eating crisps. Not one word. Until this came through:

"Change of plan - you are spending the night at my place. I'll pick you up from work and we'll pick your stuff up from home."

Clearly, quite a shock. Thought I was in for a dumping, or at least a good bollocking. Imagine my surprise when he led me to his car outside work and pulled a bunch of yellow flowers from the front seat, with an apology! Awwww......

Had lovely make-up sex and a very pleasant Easter indeed. Mmmm...... chocolate eggs......

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Stupid party mistakes

2010-04-03T09:18:00.001-07:00

Dear Diary,

Sometimes, no matter how much I'm starting to think I know exactly what I'm doing and I'm all in control - something happens that makes me realise I'm NOT in control, I'm still stuck in the "uni" days, and I am in fact a completely irresponsible and stupid total fucking idiot.

To explain - on Friday I was invited to a barbeque at Joe's friend's in Maccelsfield - optimistic beyond all belief due to the total lack of weather. And once again, the "barbeque" consisted of a burger and 1 sausage on a plate. EACH. Still, we had fun, and started drinking from 4 in the afternoon, so it was ok. Matt brought the Wii and Chris brought his hilariously immature girlfriend, once again with her own list of stipulations (ie: "you will drive home with me at 7 in the morning cos I have to go to work - or you're dumped"). Anyway, the drinks were flowing, the Doritoes were floating round the room, mine and Joe's new careers were toasted, and before you know it, it was 1:30 in the morning and we were crammed round the dining table playing drinking games. Mostly "I never" and "Ring of Fire" with shots - thanks to two bottles of Peach Schnapps I'd brought. And that's where it started.

After a while, Joe (after about 10 lagers) cried off and went to bed, leaving us to play Ring Of Fire. Except one of the new rules was "Everytime you have to drink, you must kiss the person on your left on the cheek" (and you have to drink if you forget). Following? Anyhow, the game got crazier, the dares got more hilarious (let's just say the neighbours across the road got a good view of Matt's ass) and next thing I know, I was being dared to kiss Chris's girlfriend. And here's the awful part - I ACTUALLY DID.

Now I'm not going to try and justify it, because plain and simple: I shouldn't have. At all. But in my stupid and INCREDIBLY drunken head, all I could think were: "Hey, I still know how to have fun!" and "Ah screw Joe for being in a mood with me for not going to bed early - I'll show him what he's missing!" and also pathetically reasoning "Well, he joined in with the other dares (one of which included kissing his mate), what the hell's the problem?" Anyway, the result was about 5-7 seconds of more-than-innocent but WAY less-than-graphic kissing with a girl I don't even like that much. But I was smashed, and thought it'd be fun. Until I got upstairs, anyway.

As I climbed in next to Joe, he turned over - and in the coldest, most unfriendly voice I've ever heard, asked me if I was "having fun kissing all his mates." Tried to explain about the cheek-kiss rule (apparently that's not what it sounds like from upstairs) until he cut me off to say that Chris had run upstairs and told him how everyone was getting jollies off me and his girlfriend "touching each other up" (I would like to categorically point out that we were NOT) etc...... I desperately tried to explain but he turned over with a "whatever" and a damning silence. I got up, stormed to the bathroom and cried my eyes out in a ball on the floor. Woke up looking like a panda, and endured an INCREDIBLY awkward (mostly silent) drive home.

Good fucking times. I didn't half wonder why I'm spending my time with such a moody c*nt. It's not like I sucked anyone off. Still, wish I could stop crying. I've been doing it all aftenoon.

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Top 3 events of the past fortnight

2010-03-27T09:18:00.001-07:00

Dear Diary,

Only 3 things of importance going on recently:

Buying Business Suits

Pub work

Joe's new job

Starting with the most mundane - things are going great at the pub. All anyone can ask me about is my new job, and I take great pleasure in spouting all the incentive schemes, amazing reputations and fantastic benefits, as Pat glowers disbelievingly in the corner. Do you know, he's actually told me several times that "he'll miss me"! Yeah well, I suppose you DO always miss a whipping boy once it's gone. I just feel sorry for the new barmaids. Who incidentally, were hired in record time, and are very nice (one resembles Dolly Parton, the other has excellent taste in music). So it looks like my weeks of shit-loads of overtime are over, sadly, I'm back down to three shifts (luckily they fall on Bingo night, Saturday night, and Karaoke night. SCORE!!). Oh well, at least I've earnt loads of money, which leads nicely into:

Buying business suits. Yes folks, the thing I was most looking forward to about a new "city" job (eurgh, sound like such a schmuck). Never again having to wear all-black "serving" clothes at hospitality events/jobs, and no more excuses for going into work in joggers and a Hello Kitty t-shirt. Not to mention FINALLY being able to strut about, looking all professional (I know, I know, I'm so vain). Have spent a merry few weeks (well, glum, once I tot up how much I've spent) selecting and trying on in what feels like every shop in the Manchester postcode. I REALLY need to lose some goddamn weight.

So far, am in possession of:

Light grey (with pink outline) jacket with matching pencil skirt
Dark grey pinstriped jacket with matching trousers
Black low-cut cardgian/top

And..... that's it (unless you count my interview outfit as well). Think I need to waft around shops I don't usually go in - am not having a lot of luck with Tesco or Asda. Still, all I really need are several tops to go with the suits, so I can just rotate every day with different jewellery, etc..... for a different look. Think I'm getting the hang of this! Still, Lisa was a veritable fountain of advice re: office dressing when she came over, so at least I have some idea where I'm going now.

Joe's new job. And finally, the best news of all. Yes, your eyes are not deceiving you - we are now both in full-time employment!! The promising lead I mentioned last entry turned out to be a very good egg indeed, meaning that - from today, in fact - Joe is back at his old job from 3 years ago, in a similar big city company. The boss remembered him (as did all his co-workers) and insisted he be put forward for an interview, despite not actually hiring at that moment in time.
Obviously he's thrilled, and have been promised a very posh meal upon receiving his first paycheck, woo!! Am so chuffed for him, mainly because (as much as playing Xbox and doing nothing all day may sound like a man's dream) he seemed to hate not having anything to do, and sitting around hearing his parents argue all the time. As they say, a man without his work, is nothing. And now he gets the chance to be something again.

Can hardly believe how much things have worked out. If you'd told me a year ago that all this would be happening to me - I really wouldn't have believed you. I know Life hardly always goes to plan, but I always had this idea in my head that when you reach your early-mid twenties, that's when you get to wander around in sharp suits, in a good job, with a city flat and a boyfriend (I know, such a cliche' but hey - it's my fantasy). And now, it finally looks like it's coming true. I apologise if it sounds smug, or corny, but........... actually, I don't. I'm finally where I want to be, and it may have took a while, but now it's here.

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Current Mood: neck-achey
Current Music: "Tear in your hand" - Tori Amos

The Aftermath

2010-03-14T08:42:00.001-07:00

Dear Diary,

Well, it's been a month since I found out I got the job and frankly - I'm still reeling. It still seems like a huge dream, or some not-very-funny practical joke. More then anything, I'm terrified I'm gonna lose it. Why? Because Joe lost his.

No explanation, no apologies, just a quick ruthless phone call, and suddenly he was back to square one, after a few fantastic weeks of celebration. Apparently they didn't even have the cajones to do it themselves - the agency rang him. And told him they couldn't explain WHY as the company weren't legally obliged to tell him. Hmm, shifty, much? Anyway, he's gutted, I'm furious, and even more strangely - when the agency rang me up (on a different matter) and I asked whether MY job would be safe, they actually TOLD ME it was something to do with one of his references. When they hadn't even told him. What is going ON???! Someone clearly hasn't been reading their Data Protection Act.........

But other than that, things are good. Joe is back on the market and following a very promising lead at his old work place (before he left for Europe a few years ago). My "Champagne week" was fantastic - I kept my word and drank it every day for seven days. Not continuously, obviously. But Saturday 27th was by far and away the best - Mum told me to get dressed up as she was taking me for a free make-over in Selfridge's. Thinking it wasn't exactly a big event, I just wore normal clothes, much to her displeasure. After 5 minutes of me constantly asking why she was so miffed, she replied; "I wanted you to look nice because I'm taking you for a Champagne lunch to celebrate!!" Cue my jaw dropping to the floor and landing on the make-up girl's shoes.

And that is how, one busy Saturday afternoon, me, my Mum and my Auntie ended up experiencing a side of Manchester I never even knew EXISTED - sat in Kendals, drinking Kir Royale and muching tiny pastries with caviar on. With a bag of Selfridge's make-up (they both decided to treat me). I am SO getting a new job more often!!! We staggered to the car, tipsy but surrounded by a lovely warm glow, full of hope, joy, and a promise that I would take them out for another myself as soon as I got paid. Graham Norton was right: up there with masturbation, champagne IS one of the things that truly makes life worth living. (Yeah OK, I'm going on a bit. But come on, I'm happy!! How often have I got to celebrate life-changing good news recently?)

So, to summarise:

Weds - Rose' Champagne (from Mum)
Thurs - Rose' Champagne (from Joe)
Fri - Silver Champagne-shaped charm for my bracelet (vowed it would be the first thing I bought upon getting a new job, to symbolise celebration and remind me how much I wanted it)
Sat - Kir Royale x 2
Sun - Cava (bought myself from Tesco)
Mon - Cava
Tues - Cava
Weds - Cava

CHAMPAGNE WEEK!!!!! Mum was right - that stuff should be prescribed by doctors.

Even sweeter were the reactions from my nearest and dearest. But best of all was the reaction from the punters at work. Yes folks, I was finally able to do what I've been fantasising about for the last 6 months, and not only tell them I was leaving.......... but also have the immense pleasure of rubbing the news right in Pat's wrinkled, stunned, crook-nosed face. And let me tell you this - WORTH. THE. WAIT. The sheer disbelief on his face was as sweet as getting a Subway and finding out they accidentally put extra cheese on it. Banging a vending machine and getting 3 chocolate bars instead of 1. Getting to the till and finding out that £30 top has in fact been reduced to £7. I could go on.

But it was exactly how I imagined it. He threw out a little put down about how I was "thick" and "never going to go anywhere in life" until I - at the end of my tether - told him that "if that's so, how did I just get offered a full-time position at one of the biggest companies in the UK?" (it's true, apparently they own more land than the Church). Seriously, you could have heard an ant fart in the silence that followed. Then someone asked me, I explained, and all the time Pat did not say ONE WORD. Just supped his pint in silence before mumbling a sullen "well..... you probably won't last 5 minutes." Ah, sour grapes..... what a delicious-tasting wine they make...... He bet a pint that I'd come crawling back after 6 months, asking for my job back. Hmmm...... just as well I drink cider then, isn't it? So, it's currently £2.65, and 6 months later, with inflation..... that should be JUST enough time for the price of cider to rise by at least 40p. Hehehehehe.

So that's it. I've "come out." Now newly legit - and completely the centre of attention at work as the news spreads and every other punter asks me about it - and then discuss it amongst themselves when topics of conversation become scarce. Gave my notice in to the Landlady - appalling timing as another barmaid has recently walked out without any notice and not come back. But she thanked me for being honest, told me 2 and a half months is MORE than enough time to find someone new, and wished me luck. She laughed at Pat's reaction, told me she knew I'd prove everyone wrong and advised me where to buy good but cheap suits. But the best part? She told me the same thing she told me when I first came to the pub - that I'm "wasted in a job like this, wasn't expected to stay here for long, and have finally found my wings." People, I nearly cried. Because she was just so damn NICE. OK, sometimes I'm scared of her and her fierce Northern manner, but I have never quit my job with such a warm glowing feeling. Because I'm finally moving up, and everyone seems to be behind me.

Not to mention I'm now the Golden Girl at that place....... with all the extra shifts now going, I've taken on every single one. More money in the bank AND a relieved Landlady. Things just keep getting better!!

What other news? Well, I've been cooking a lot more lately...... oh, and today was a lot of fun. First off because it was Mother's Day - something that (forgive me for sounding smug) only took place because of me basically organising EVERYTHING. Shaun didn't lift a FINGER to help me, instead simply signed the card whilst pissed, bunging £20 my way, and telling me to "take care of it," the lazy brat. Still, it went well, and Mum LOVED her stuff, despite being struck down with a violent case of flu.

Mum's Presents:

Champagne AND:
Smoked salmon and cream cheese bagel for breakfast
Bright pink roses for the lounge table
Card
Expensive bottle of gin with her name and "Happy Mother's Day!" inscribed on it (she loves gin)

After that I trawled into town with Lisa (up on a visit for Mother's Day) and spent a merry afternoon lunching and shopping, keeping my eyes peeled for business clothes. Didn't come away with much to be honest, due to lack of funds (and Lisa acting as my conscience, warning me off buying frivolous things) but still fetched a lovely pink cardigan and some joggers (all the better for the company gym!) and had a lot of fun catching up. Happy days!

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Blah.....

2010-02-21T14:48:00.000-08:00

Dear Diary,

Nothing much to report of late, really. Went to Joe's mate in Lancaster's house again at the weekend, had a mini pub crawl and many MANY Wii/Xbox tournaments, followed by fry-up in town the next day. Pretty fanatastic night! Although, as usual, Chris's girlfriend was completely immature and whiny, complaining about the tea that had been MADE for us, whingeing when we tried to distract her on the Wii (um...... EVERYONE was doing it to EVERYONE ELSE) and bagging the spare bedroom with the double bed - glaring at Joe and I as if telling us they were the Alpha-Couple, and we get the single-bed room. Daft bitch. Oh well, the single bed didn't prove all that restrictive for the half hour Joe was "looking after" me upstairs cos I "didn't feel too well." Another thing to strike off my before-I'm-30 list (seriously now, I need to write that out before I forget every goddamn thing on it)!!! To Joe's credit, he seems to have taken my hints on board and become more adventurous. Things are looking good!

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Current Mood: chilled
Current Music: "Don't stop" - Ke$ha!

Valentine's Day, and other shenanigans

2010-02-15T10:44:00.001-08:00

Dear Diary,

Well, I have to say, things are certainly picking up! In fact, it's safe to say I've had possibly a few of the best weeks ever!

Starting on Monday last week, managed to land myself not only an entire 5 days working for the temp agency, but also EVERY SINGLE NIGHT (bar Friday) in the pub! What have I DONE to deserve such wealth? (Apart from paying my dues by signing on every fucking week for 2 years, grrrrrr......) Got sent to a cafe in Salford for the week, a lovely trendy little place tucked away in the corner of some huge business complex - which meant a load of hotties in business suits coming in for lunch, maximum sandwich-based flirting with the hot businessmen, (seriously, is it a REQUIREMENT that you have to be beautiful to work in that field? I didn't see a dog among them!!) and a free wrap at the end of each day. Not to mention it was fun whizzing off on the tram every evening to go to my "other job" at the pub. LOADED!!!

Downsides included: gazing wistfully at the elite in their shiny suits, wishing like crazy I could be on the other side, knackered burning feet, and a female customer in a pencil-skirt suit so stunning she literally turned me full-on gay for 10 minutes. Before I was then swallowed by a despairing black hole of "GOOD CHRIST, WHY DON'T I LOOK LIKE THAT???!!!" straight-woman thoughts of anxiety. Fun times!

Other downsides: Being late 3 out of the 5 days thanks to the pissing trams cocking up completely, crashing, breaking down and every other thing, making me look completely unreliable. Not to mention the last day - where I attempted to get a wandering customer's attention by whistling (perfectly normal, in the pub) only to be told he was the brother of the man taking over the cafe next week. Was berated in the kitchen for calling him "like a dog," not thinking before I acted, and possibly tainting the other girl from my agency with the same brush, meaning she might not get work again (jeez, over-react, much?). Spent the last half hour with a burning face before fleeing at 4. Handed my timesheet in at the agency and explained about the whislte, should any complaining phone calls have been made. But they were fine with it, and told me the other agency girl was DEFINATELY over-reacting. Phew!

Had a text from Kyle as well. Bad news is, he's now a single man after a 3-year relationship ended. Good news is, he's coming over for a night out! And since I'm now fecking WADDED, should be an interesting evening.......!

Valentine's Day was a particularly lovely affair this year......... as opposed to 2008 where I went for a pre-booked meal with Aaron about 2 weeks after he'd dumped me. Well, it seemed a waste of a good curry and I wanted to part on good terms - until a month later where I smacked him one, anyway. I know, I'm spineless. But anyway, this year was much happier, thanks to a £20 3-course meal from Marks and Sparks, and thanks to Shaun for actually LENDING me the £20. Due to complete lack of funds from both parties, Joe came over for a lovely meal I'd heated (I mean, cooked) which turned out to be absolutely AMAZING.

MENU:

STARTER:

Smoked Salmon and Mousse parcels

MAIN COURSE:

Lamb cutlets with a mint pea sauce and chips

DESSERT:

Melting chocolate pudding

EXTRAS:

Rose' Champagne
Single red rose (which stood at the end of the table)

How INCREDIBLE is that??! All that for £20!! Anyway, the meal went without a hitch, Joe LOVED the decorations (rose and candles) and food, and everything was wonderful. I gave him a photo collage in a frame of all our adventures and shenanigans (Blackpool, New Year, picnics, etc.....) and he gave me a charm for a bracelet he assured was coming after the next payday. Went back to his and spent a pretty sweet night together.
So there you have it, my first proper Valentine's Day! TOTALLY worth the wait.

Today I also happened to go to town for a mini-interview and some paperwork filling. But that's a story for another day!

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Current Mood: Happy and relaxed
Current Music: "Hole in my shoe" - Nigel Planer

Pubs and parties

2010-02-02T07:15:00.000-08:00

Dear Diary,

Not much happened in the past few weeks, to be honest. I do lead a ridiculously boring life at times.

On the plus side, had plenty of extra hours at work recently, including a few permanent ("for now") added shifts per week. Woohoo!! Unfortunately it's still the same environment, and now we have joined the 21st century in having a big screen installed - the place is full of men screaming as if the players can hear them, cursing as if they themselves wrote the rules on football and cheering as if they'd personally scored every goal.

Not to mention Pat being a complete dick for no reason whatsoever, and then slating me for "not being polite to punters." Erm, hello? I practically wrote the BOOK on polite. I do everything to avoid offending people (to the point where my own wishes sometimes take a backseat) and I was brought up properly, thank you very much. But I was also taught that respect should be earned...... and frankly there's only 30% of the people that frequent the pub that have my respect so far.

Oh well, in brighter news, there is a potential new job on the horizon!! It's in the city, customer service and all that jazz, so my details are currently residing with yet another agency. Let's see how well this one pans out.......

Referring back to the hiatus I suggested way back in December - despite it originally being my idea, I seem to have had one forced upon me recently....... Stayed at Joe's for 4 solid night's this week, and we didn't have sex once. I'll be frank, I'm not entirely enjoying this - how is he so very tired every night when he doesn't even have work to go to? Or am I being demanding again? Answers on a postcard!
Having said that, the weekend was incredibly enjoyable. Went up to Lancaster for a housewarming party Joe's friend was throwing. All I remember from the night was playing a shit-load of "Rock Band" (I kicked ass and took names on Bass), sitting outside talking to a Brazilian girl for hours (she was smoking, Joe went nuts upon thinking I had too) Matt walking out the house at 3am and, despite me following in my pyjamas, pinning him to the wall and telling him NOT to - ran off up the road. I tried to follow, Joe got pissed off that I was running down the street in pyjamas (can I just point out there was NO-ONE around) and told me to "get inside and leave him." Nice!

Well, at least the story had a happy (well, funny) end - Matt came back at 8am, scratched to shit and exhausted. Apparently he'd walked all the way to the COAST (Joe's friend lives nowhere NEAR the coast), got tangled in a bush for 2 hours and ended up getting a taxi back. He'd also lost his phone and gained about 1,563 scratches all over his body - which he ashamedly displayed (VERY nice, I should point out. What? A girl can look!) Anyway, we went to Wetherspoons and scranned down on a fry up before heading home.

All in all, a fun weekend!

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Results and relief

2010-01-22T08:48:00.001-08:00

Dear Diary,

Well, that's it. It's over and done with. The good news is, I'm not up the stick. The bad news...... well, there is none. Although I kind of, a little bit, sort of, really really REALLY wish I hadn't laid all that on Joe the other night - instead of keeping schtum one more frigging day and therefore avoiding the whole "Dreaded Talk."

The game of "Spoilt little Rich Couple" went marvellously, by the way. The flat was stunning, "cosy" (ie: small) but very posh, with it's own balcony, 2 bedrooms and bathrooms, and a TARDIS-like kitchen. With the rest, lifts, foyers, marble floors, the works. Despite the classy boots I'd donned hobbling me to the point of agony, played it for all it was worth, telling the agent about how we were "freelance interpreters" who'd just be "employed by the city council" and looking to "settle down" after living in Stockport for a while. I'll say this for Joe - he sure can sound convincing. It felt amazing to be acting again. Felt a slight tinge of annoyance at not actually being able to afford said dream palace, but after all - I knew that going in, and at £300,000 ASKING PRICE, I wouldn't have gone for it anyway. (This is the part of the blog where you realise I'm totally full of shit. Who WOULDN'T live in a place like that if they could afford it??!)

Thankfully, during a little downtown brunch in which we both carefully skated around the "situation" but never talked about it - I was ambushed. Joe was diplomatic enough not to look too relieved as I came back from the loo, but I could tell we were both feeling it in waves. On one hand, it's good to know we're both on the same page, are mature enough to discuss it like adults and rely on each other for support. On the other hand, all I could think as we walked back to the car were two things:

a) "You stupid stupid BITCH!!!! Why did you TELL him instead of waiting one more day and taking a test??!!"
b) "Until I go to Costco and buy a YEAR'S supply of condoms, we are never having sex again"

And at the risk of sounding like the worst sort of cliche, I will admit that, for a while, I had sort of become accoustomed to the idea. Telling the news to excited friends and family. Getting to act like a total diva for 9 months. People doing things for you, and having an excuse to weigh more than usual. Shaun as an Uncle, Mum and Dad as Grandparents. A proud-looking Joe, his mates slapping him on the back, and a tiny pink little baby with his ginger hair, my curls, his blue eyes with the green around the pupil, his logical sensibility, and my imagination.

And then I thought about the life I'd have to plan, the money to support this, the restriction in work, the lack of sex life, the altered vagina, the leaking breasts, Mum's furious reaction, the agonising delivery, all the things that could possibly go wrong, not being able to drink wine or eat ANY KIND OF SHELLFISH for 9 months, the sleepless nights, the added baby weight to shift, the exhaustion, the fact that I'm still living with my parents - all on top of the fact that I'm only 23 and haven't even got a proper job yet.

And thanked God all the way home for the result I got. Because I'm not at all ready, really. Not yet.

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Problems

2010-01-20T08:41:00.000-08:00

Dear Diary,

As one of the first new blogs of the year, let me take this oppurtunity to make a pledge (not a New Year's Resolution, we all know I'd never keep it): To hereby make my blogs more frequent, more interesting, and less pretentious. Time to start again!

In keeping with my "more interesting" theme - I don't think it can get more interesting than this: a pointless exercise, a friend in trouble, and worst of all, a personal dilemna. Where to begin?

Pointless exercise: Having gone for a job interview the other day, Joe walked past an estate agents on the way home, and, upon seeing a listing for a beautiful £300,000 flat in the city centre, booked a viewing on Friday. I do love spontenaiety! Not to mention we're gonna pretend to be completely different (and rich) people, to convince them we're serious about buying. This is gonna be fun!

Friend in trouble: So, in keeping with the manner of our friendship (ie: her being in trouble and me being there to help), Marie called me on Monday to invite me round. Why? She'd been seeing her ex again as a "buddy" (this is the ex who dumped her by text and moaned about his feelings when she got attacked) and now thought she was pregnant. Which leads nicely into:

Personal Dilemna: You guessed it. As it stands, I am currently 5 days late..... and considering I'm normally like CLOCKWORK in that department, I'm pretty fucking worried by now. Obviously, you can't take a test until it's been a week, but not knowing is KILLING me. How does anyone STAND this??! I've been running to the loo every 5 minutes, every time I get a slight stomach ache or twinge...... and still nothing. To be honest, I'm bricking it. Because, who can I tell? Obviously, Mum, Dad and Shaun are ruled out. The next option, naturally, would be my friends, or Joe. But let's think about this: "Hi, how are you? Sooooooo..... glad to hear uni/work's going well, oh and by the way, I'm just a teensy bit nervous about this potential major life decision and I just fancied a chat about it. You free?"

And as for Joe.....? FORGET IT. I know, honesty is key, etc... but let's think about this: I tell him I may be pregnant - what then? He panics, we realise we have no money and I am in NO WAY ready for it. Maybe he argues this - you know, Catholics, pro-life, etc.... I say it's my decision, he says it's partly his, we argue, etc... etc.... When in reality, all I need to do is go to the doctor, drink what it is they give you (that makes you sick and the baby goes - I went in and asked) keep my mouth shut, and he need never know. But can I really DO that to him?? To be honest, I don't want to tell ANYONE about this. But all I really want is to just offload a little, and have a big hug. Joe's starting to realise something's wrong - I'm all distracted whenever he talks to me, and look worried all the time. Fuck me. How did this HAPPEN??

Monday night was spent out at the pub near Marie's - during which her ex was out, with a complete face on him - watching every drink she had (he knows, and is VERY much in favour of getting rid, whatever Marie's choice, the dickface). After 7 more hours of man-bashing (de rigeur at her house) we finally - FINALLY went to sleep, my head spinning.

The next morning I got a taxi to Joe's, begging to be allowed to sleep off my hangover, as Marie was headed for uni and I didn't quite want to go home yet. Ended up staying all day and having tea, after which we curled back up in his room. Somehow, the subject of babies came up - it turned into a hypothetical discussion about what would happen "in that case." And then it came out. Sobbing on his shoulder, I told him everything. To his credit he didn't freak out, get angry or have any other strong reaction. Diplomatically, he told me it was "my decision," and he'd go with whatever I chose. He didn't like the idea of "getting rid" (I know, such a horrible phrase), but assured me that if I wasn't ready, he'd stand by my choice and support me. The only thing he was annoyed about was that I hadn't told him sooner, and saved myself going through all this upset in solitude.

And now I'm stymied. I really haven't a clue what I want. I don't know what I'm supposed to feel or do. As Joe pointed out, if things went ahead, we'd obviously have no end of support from our families. But to consider having a baby without even a proper job or fixed abode? It's madness. And even thought the logical part of my brain is thinking this - there's another part giving me a little nudge, the part that shows me holding a gorgeous little ginger baby in one of those all-in-one babygros, teaching it Baby Sign Language and doing something valid and real with my life as opposed to the sweet fuck-all I've got going on at the moment.

I'm stupid, I know. I'm sentimental and idiotic, and this is all probably over nothing. But still - 5 days late? With no major changes or stress in my life to affect my cycle? Something isn't right in the state of Denmark. I just wish I FELT something - a little fluttering of joy or a constant prickle of panic and despair - instead of this..... nothingness. It's like I'm watching an episode of Corrie. Except with less reactions.

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Current Mood: stumped
Current Music: "Bella's Lullaby" - Twilight soundtrack

Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year! Literally!!!

2010-01-05T12:31:00.001-08:00

Dear Diary,

Dearie me, dear diary. What a LOT of recapping I have to get through!! Such are the perils of leaving it so long, I suppose.

Well I GUESS I should pick up where I left off - poised, trembling and excited, on the brink of Christmas Eve. Town was virtually buzzing, as I headed to meet and Joe and co. for drinks. Nothing to write home about really - my dress was complimented a LOT, it was great to see his friends again, I got quite drunk and had my photo taken with a group of lads dressed as turkeys. Matt headed off for Midnight Mass and soon after Joe put me in a taxi.

Christmas Day - Well, MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE!!!! Being a family of traditions, we had the good old woken-up-by-brother-jumping-on-bed before going downstairs to open our stockings. Which, obviously, is now a bit of a tongue-in-cheek joke, a metaphor, basically, for Mum and Dad's presents. Anyway, soon after we munched bacon and egg butties before getting ready to visit the godparents (again, the uncle of which inevitably snuck me a triple vodka when I asked for a single).

I'll be honest - I love the O'Donnell Christmas Day Traditions, I fucking love them. Stocking, breakfast, visit to godparents, home for present loading, off to Christmas Day location. Exactly the same every year, and consistantly brilliant. But sometimes, traditions, although supposed to stay the same, can sometimes improve with a minor addition. And that's why it was such a brilliant feeling seeing Joe pull up outside as we were loading the car with presents, and adding his own bin bag to the pile.

Well, what to say? We were at Auntie and Dan's this year, and the food was phenomenal. Obviously we had the old (crackers, terrible jokes) mixed with the new (lobsters and squid for starters) - and the family, I'm staggeringly proud to say, did everything to make Joe incredibly welcome, god love them. Even if it did mean Grandma insisting on sitting next to him and nudging him everytime she told a joke (because nudging makes your hearing louder, evidently).

Funny Story: Grandma nearly didn't make it this year, thanks to the country-stopping but incredibly stunning White Christmas we received. After a tearful phone call from her on Christmas Eve ("I can't make it over love, it's the snow, I can't even make it down the drive. You'll have to miss me out...."), Mum and Dad unanimously decided "bollocks to that," drove all the way out to her house and straight to the rescue, armed with a whole tank of petrol and a sledge to tow her down the drive.

Funny Christmas Day Quote:

Grandma: (*offering cracker*) "Would you like to pull a cracker, Joe?"
Joe: (*looking at me*) "I already have!"
Dan: "Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay!!"
Me: "Awwwww!"
Shaun and Mum: (*fake vomitting noises*)

Anyhow, after lunch, Joe joined Shaun, Auntie and yours truly for another grand tradition - setting the presents out where everyone was sitting. Half an hour and a big pile of paper later, and we were a very chuffed group of people.

Best Presents:

Ipod docking station (Mum and Dad) - YESSSSS!!! Been after one for AGES.
Links charm bracelet (Mum and Dad) - Apparently a huge make. Feel v. guilty but thrilled
Frankie Boyle's autobiography (Joe) - The introduction alone had me pissing myself in Waterstones
Jigsaw toy model (Joe) - A little "inside joke," he said. I do love them Saw films!
Family Guy Season 8 DVD (Shaun) - Freakin' SWEET!
Glittery Michael Jackson t-shirt (Auntie)
Swarovski Crystal Star Christmas Tree decoration (Grandma)

Afterwards we lay in a slightly drunken slump, occasionally looking at presents or listening to a little Joe vs. Family minor not-really-meant-at-all tiff: "You shouldn't have got me presents!" "Yeah, well you shouldn't have got US presents!" Eventually, we went home, Shaun went to work, and me, Mum, Dad and Joe fell asleep watching "Blackadder" repeats.

Despite being forbidden by Mum (HOW old am I again??!!) I snuck in to share a few minutes squashed up with Joe, who was to have my bed for the night. Have you ever tried to share a single bed between 2 people? Don't. It's bloody uncomfortable, no matter how "romantic" it may seem. Still, we faked sleep when Mum came upstairs, and had to physically restrain our "drilling the road" laughing shoulders everytime Mum blew her nose (it sounds like a foghorn, even through the wall).

NEW YEAR: New Year's Eve was simply AMAZING. In case I didn't explain - we (i.e: my and many other families - all friends of Mum and Dad's and Shaun's football team) spent it in a charming cabin up in the Lake District, basking in the shadow of about 16 snow-covered mountains. But I'm getting ahead of myself. Following a late night (shift at the pub) Joe - who was, of course, invited - came to pick me up and slept over at ours. The family had already headed up earlier that day, so had the house to ourselves.

Next morning (New Year's Eve) came way too soon as Joe rudely decided to wake me up at 7 (SEVEN!!! The drive only took 2 hours, why so motherfenkin' EARLY??!) to set off. 2 hours later, and we were stuck halfway up the most perilously icy hill known to MANKIND, with some dickheads in cars blocking the way, Joe swearing his head off in frustration, and the cabin, tantalisingly visible at the top of the hill. Luckily, thanks to the sheer willpower of Joe's little Saab, we made it, not only zooming up the hill but bagging the best parking spot (ie: right in front of the front door). Good times!

After sausage and egg butties (a known remedy for waking up yours truly) we were dragged off for a "fun walk." Actually, I say that in sarcasm, but it was pretty breathtaking - walking through huge snow covered mountains, almost completely untouched. Made it halfway up as well! Joe went on ahead to the top (well, he IS an outdoors type!) as Mum and I breathlessly made our way back to the cabin from the halfway point. On the way back, I scratched little arrows (for when the others headed back) and my initials into the snow with my walking stick. When Joe found me later, back at the cabin curled up in my pyjamas, he told me he'd put his own initials, plus a heart, next to mine. Awww! Wonder if they're still up there? It has been an unfeasibly cold December.......

After a good bout of everyone lazing about and cuddling up for a few hours (me reading the 4th Twilight book, Joe watching Shaun and his mates play table tennis) the New Year celebrations were underway. Well, you know how it goes, the drinks, the partying, the table tennis tournaments. Joe for some reason kept going outside for some alone time - which naturally made me paranoid no end. Was he enjoying himself? Did he want to be elsewhere? Did he find meeting the giant influx of friends, family, and friends of family too much? Hmmm..... Most likely he just wanted to get away from the constant shrieking to gaze on the snowy splendour of the valley view before the cabin - which, to be fair, was one of the most gorgeous things ever.

Still, midnight rolled around. We drank champagne with unfolding sugar roses fizzing at the bottom, worked our way round the "kissing" circle, sang Auld Lang Syne and danced for a bit (an event in itself as Joe NEVER dances). What I WASN'T expecting was when we went to bed, hoping for a sleepless night (if you catch my drift) and literally getting one. Due to my incredibly masterful and cunning plan, Joe and I were to be sleeping on a double bed (well, 2 singles pushed together) behind a curtain in the main lounge, away from other people, and free to do whatever we wanted. What I DIDN'T count on were Shaun and his mates staying in the kitchen, playing music at full volume and running around for 3 HOURS after everyone else retired. I lay there miserably in the dark as Joe angrily muttered about going home the next day, as he couldn't lose anymore sleep.

And just for a moment, despite lying in the arms of a man I loved, in the snowy mountains, surrounded by family and friends, I wished that I could be with someone who was just a whole lot less sensitive and quick-tempered about things sometimes. And then I realised I should count my blessings, shut the hell up, and go to sleep.

The next day we all went for walks, pub lunches and all that. We climbed up and down the longest, iciest hills known to man, had a "sausage fest" for tea, and spent the evening playing Trivial Pursuit, Joe secretly using Sign Language from the men's team to tell me the answers. We both moved into the spare beds in the Mums/Dads rooms and finally got decent night's sleeps.

The next day we all drove home - me hanging out the window taking photos of the perilously icy road to offer the Landlady as proof, should I get back late for work (I didn't).

*SPOILERS AHEAD*

On a side note, can I just point out how simply and utterly super-fucking-wonderful the 4th Twilight book "Breaking Dawn" is? Couldn't put it down all weekend. Shockingly graphic pregnancy storyline, thoughts from Jacob's point of view, the breathtaking moment when Bella finally becomes a vampire, the adorable (although stupidly named) Renesmee? Pure. Gold. I mean, yeah, the ending and the final face-off with the Volturi was the biggest anti-climax EVER, but still. I cannot WAIT for the film. They'd better not cock it up.

Anyway, Happy New Year everyone!

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1 day to go!

2009-12-24T03:50:00.001-08:00

Dear Diary,

So this, as John Lennon once said, is Christmas. Or nearly, at any rate. Technically, this is Christmas Eve - but damn, is it exciting! The good news is, I'm COMPLETELY organised - and this is the first Christmas I've EVER been able to say that. Presents bought, wrapped, labelled and placed under the tree. Outfit for tomorrow sorted. Hairdo and make-up style? NAILED. The bad news.....? Well, there isn't any.

Spent a fantastic final few days mostly Christmas shopping and meeting the girls for lunch - all the better to exchange Christmas (and in my case, late birthday) presents whilst shrieking loud enough to attract the waiters. Ah, good times!

FROM LISA:

Birthday: "Cooking with Sign Language" book (actually from her mum - awwww!), some cupcake cases, a gorgeous Dessert cooking book (as I've previously bemoaned my extreme difficulty with making anything dessert-ish) and a pretty little embellished key on a keyring - which I was told (in keeping with "The Secret") was the metaphoric Key to my New Flat. HOW amazing??!

Christmas: I shit you not - a game entitled "Nookii." Was slightly confused, thinking maybe some foreign language, until I saw the tagline: "The Grown-Up game for playful couples." (!!!!) Can forsee a lot of fun with this. A woman at a neighbouring table even asked where it was purchased.

FROM ALICE:

Birthday: Beautiful, silky black and purple underwear set. Sweet baby Moses, it is FIIIIIINE!! Practically sprinted home to try it on.
Christmas: Mini Sign Language dictionary - which I've been after for ages. Except this one fits in your POCKET!!!

So that was the other day - today we met up again in town, for some merry drinks and food. Had to haul-ass to Marks and Sparks halfway through - to pick up one last present and a little black cami/mini cardigan to wear tomorrow - but other than that it was fantastic.

The plans are all set for tomorrow, as I speak. Such are the bad relations at Joe's house (as per) that he's spending Christmas with us -at my Auntie's. I'll be honest, despite the connotations of why he's joining us, I'm pretty excited. The family are looking forward to seeing him again, and both parties (ie: Joe and my family) have bought presents for each other - neither knowing, and both violently exclaiming that they hope the other hasn't bought them anything. As it stands, I'm the only one who knows the truth, from both sides. Starting to feel like a vaguely evil puppet master.......!

All that remains now is tonight - where I'll be heading, (now vaguely tipsy) into town to meet Joe and his mates (plus WAGs) for Christmas Eve drinks. Kitted out in the new sailor dress I discovered in Primark last week - which, incidentally, makes my boobs look HUGE without actually revealing anything.

God bless Primark, every one!

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Christmas Lead-Up!

2009-12-19T07:21:00.001-08:00

Dear Diary,

There are times when it's impossible to get by. When sometimes, your extreme willpower and competence isn't enough to get results. When you have to shelve your pride and pick an easier option.

Which is why I say: Thank CHRIST for Amazon.

What a wonderfully, wonderfully simple idea. Thanks to this genius website I can now Christmas shop to my heart's content - without having to stifle to death in over-long queues, avoid eye-contact with enthusiastic Christian canvassers, or indeed, leave my house. Fantastic. Don't get me wrong - unlike other people - I love nothing more than slipping on icy high streets, breathing in the cold air (that seems to virtually buzz with excitement and impatience) and trailing into every shop that's covered in tinsel, special offers, and cheap decorations. I LOVE struggling around with about 15 bags, trying to find my purse in the bottom of my handbag and having to stand on the tram. I love laying all my purchases out at home, and more than anything, I LOVE wrapping them. Mark my words, Christmas shopping is the BEES KNEES.

Christmas preparations are well underway, chez O'Donnell. By some miracle of nature, I have not continued my grand tradition of "buy everything on Christmas Eve," but have, in fact, become unbelievably organised. I literally only have about 5 presents left to buy! I should REALLY be organised more often......

MORE GOOD THINGS ABOUT THE HOLIDAY SEASON:

My friends are back. All the better to swap presents, reminisce and be filled with that joyful friend-glow that appears as you are reunited.

The parties. OK, there haven't exactly been LOADS, but had a pretty good fancy-dress knees-up at Marie's last week (all the better for Joe to meet college friends). He went as a pirate, I went as a gypsy (feathers and earrings and bangles, oh my!). Watched in horror as a very pissed Anne (aka: Buzz Killington) launched herself on Joe to share tales of her ballet class, the kids she teaches (ASSISTANT teaches, can I point out) and other similarly crashing-ly boring stories, as he pulled faces at me behind her back. She wasn't even in fancy dress! Eventually she forced herself onto a terrified 17 year-old's lap, whilst stage-whispering (ie: very loudly) to me: "Kat! I APPROVE OF HIM!!" Nice, but her opinion didn't exactly matter to me. Harsh, I know, but true. Anyway, drinks were imbibed, catch-ups and dances were had and eventually, we headed back to his (all the better for the pirate to meet the gypsy in the tavern, hehe).

The silly promises. Whilst tipsy the other Saturday, I made a pledge (one I'd be thinking about for a while) to Joe - to inforce a sex ban, just for a few weeks, in January. So that I could "enjoy all the other things that come with a relationship" and hopefully train my brain into not thinking that sex is something that should be partaken as often as breathing. He agreed, but bet that I wouldn't even last a week. Naturally I got all indignant and competitive and swore I'd prove him wrong. We'll see in 2010!

The Work. Had the very good fortune to be taken on at the agency my brother works at doing Hospitality work, you know, parties, dinners, conferences and the like. Which, fortunately, means a spike in work-load this time of year, with Christmas parties and the like. Luckily, Joe climbed on board too, meaning we've had a rip-roaring time the past few weeks, working together and pretending not to know each other as anything more than colleagues (secret kisses in the kitchen, anyone?) And it doesn't stop there - I've worked at Key 103 gigs, seen JLS, Spandau Ballet, and a whole host of others perform, gone to posh hotels at the airport and been chatted up by a Captain Jack Sparrow-a-gram. WHILST. IN. CHARACTER (needless to say, the shaky-kneed blushing schoolgirl in me came RIGHT to the surface). And on top of all that - MONEY MONEY MONEY!!!

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Current Mood: cold - to my extreme delight, it looks like we're getting a white Christmas!
Current Music: "Mama Do" - Pixie Lott

Hospital Drama

2009-10-30T08:50:00.000-07:00

Dear Diary,

Fuck me, what a strange few days I've had. Can safely say I don't ever remember going so quickly from the heights of joy to the depths of despair.......

As you've probably guessed, Monday wasn't too fantastic. After getting no replies to my texts or calls all day, Joe's brother called me - he was in hospital. Apparently the daft-arse took 3 sleeping pills (hasn't been sleeping well since his cat was put down) instead of the conventional 1. Shaking, I jumped a cab and whirled into the hospital, preparing to face down nurses and demand to see him, whatever visiting rules may be. Slightly different from TV apparently, as they just let me walk straight through. Never let it be said I don't have a flair for the dramatic!

I sat by his bed shaking, trying hard not to look at the drip in his arm and focus on his breathing, but needless to say, I was shit-scared. Still, he eventually woke up and explained everything. He'd taken the 3 pills to knock him out (as just 1 wasn't working) - then, on the way to work the next morning felt incredibly sick and light-headed, so turned straight back round and got himself to hospital before passing out in the reception area. We laughed at his idiocy, bought sandwiches when the trolley came round, and tried everything to ignore the clinically obese man in the next bed, snoring loud enough to topple the Taj Mahal.

SLIGHT misunderstanding later on, however. When the councellor arrived to talk to Joe, there was a lot of talk of "Does your girlfriend know?" and "How have things been recently?" and "You did the right thing coming here." Something clicked (well, so I thought). Thinking he'd lied to me all along about the "accident" thing, and it was in fact a big cover story for what could only be described as a suicide attempt, I calmly got up and walked out into the corridor, before bursting into tears. Put frankly, I was terrified. It slowly started to make sense - the redundancy, the terrible home life, losing his best friend...... The councillor eventually walked past me, taking a hasty look at my teared-up face before quickly walking away. Some fucking councillor!

But Joe explained when I went back in: He'd never attempted suicide. Due to the effects on his body and what he'd blurted out in a semi-concious state, it was automatically classed as an overdose, and the nurses assumed it was attempted suicide. By the time he'd woken up, stomach pumped and chart filled, he was way too embarrassed to tell them the truth, which is why he went along with the lie. So effectively, he pretended it was a suicide attempt, to save face. Naturally, I was incredibly angry (demanding he told them the truth) and still a little doubtful, until he pointed out two things:

a) He had me in his life, so why would he? (ok, totally sickening sounding, but awwwwww). And
b) As a Catholic, his soul would be damned forever, so even if he WAS considering it (which he wasn't in a million years), he never would. Eeeee, those crazy Catholics.

Anyhow, he checked himself out later that night (despite disproving looks from everyone) and I stayed at his all week to look after him. Won't deny that it was strangely fun playing Mother Theresa for 4 days - well until my Hippocratic oath was broken, shall we say (well, it HAD been 5 days!) Anyway, nohing to worry about, just sore kidneys and a lot of weariness. Have told him that if he touches sleeping pills again, I'll break his arms. See what I mean? Mother Theresa doesn't have SHIT on me!

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HAPPY BRITHDAY TO ME!!!

2009-10-26T06:22:00.001-07:00

Dear Diary,

So here I sit, on a cold Monday morning, thinking about my birthday weekend. And I think it's safe to say that it was one (if not TOP) for the Best-Birthdays-Ever list.

Where to begin? Well, we may as well start with Friday.
Woke up to a flurry of texts, including a rather insightful one from Anne.

Things I have learnt, Part 1: When your birthday matches your age (ie: I was 23 on the 23rd) - this is considered your "lucky" birthday in Malta.

Festivities began at half 10 when Joe arrived, bearing a gorgeous bunch of red roses and a hug the size of Manchester. After a little showing off of received presents, we drove down to the block of flats, where our friendly estate agent (how grown up does THAT sound??) was waiting to show us around. After meeting the concierge (!), taking the lift up to the courtyard (!!) and another lift to our flat (!!!), we were in. Nothing much to tell really. There's not much of a view, but it's big enough for two, unfurnished (but we can provide the furniture between us anyway) with an AMAZING wardrobe in the bedroom, DISHWASHER (was NOT expecting that!), a lovely little bathroom, and (which was, in my opinion, the dealbreaker) a combination WASHING AND DRYING MACHINE. Not to mention the thick-as-a-tank front door and INDIVIDUAL ALARM SYSTEM.

Believe me, I tried so hard to follow Joe's lead in being professional, exuding an air of Bond-like neutraility and enquiring about proper stuff, but all I really wanted to do was yell "SOLD!!" and start unpacking kitchen utensils. Instead, I contended myself with mentally arranging furniture placement, touching the walls and visualizing living there.

After we left, we drove up to Mum's cafe, nattering all the way about Pros and Cons, etc.... Turns out Joe's air of casual "oh-we've-already-looked-at-3-other-places" indifference was all just a big act, and he was pretty much as excited as I was. Nice!Once at the shop, we settled in for a free breakfast, after the girls serenaded me with "Happy Birthday" and presented a tray of home-made cupcakes. Awwwww!! The watching customers cheered as I went bright red, and Yvonne forced Joe into telling her where he was taking me.

And then we were off! I'd agreed (at Joe's request) to wear a blindfold to keep the location hidden till the last minute, which, after 45 minutes, was starting to feel like a really shitty idea. After an hour of itchy, blurry eyes, I started trying to guess where we were going. Going off previous clues, the best I could come up with was a day trip to somewhere cold - maybe walking, or snowboarding, followed by a meal somewhere, and then back to his for a weekend. Oh, was I wrong......

After a good 2 hour journey, I was finally told to take the blindfold off. And what was the sight before me? Well, momentarily, blurry eyes and a strange white mist. But after THAT came a very familiar childhood sight..... that of BLACKPOOL TOWER! We were in BLACKPOOL!!! Let's just say my reaction was something similar to this.

So we drove down the front, me getting increasingly excited as we passed so many fond childhood memories.... the sea, the sand, the 3 main piers, the 18,000 candyfloss (and other treats) stalls, every single woman trying to convince pavement walkers that SHE was the real Gypsy Rose-Lee (as opposed to all the other 75 who were doing the same thing). I was overjoyed. A day trip to Blackpool! That was gonna be sweet - we'd spend all day on the piers, maybe have fish and chips, take photos and walk along the beach. "Just need to find somewhere to park," Joe mumbled, as we neared the end of the Illuminations stretch. And then, I swear to god, this is what happened next:

J: "OK, should be a parking space somewhere....."

K: "Seriously, just take the first one you can find, I wanna start walking!"

J: "No problem!" (*swings car into the Savoy Hotel carpark*)

K: "Um..... when I said ANYWHERE, I didn't mean.... I don't think we can park here."

J: "Why not?"

K: "It's a HOTEL! Isn't it reserved for guests or something?"

J: "Hmmmm....... Nah, it'll be fine. No-one'll know!"

K: "Yeah, but don't people monitor stuff like that?"

J: "Good point. Well, we'd best check in then."

...............................................................

K: "WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT??????!!!!"

Yes folks, there you have it. I'd been tricked - AGAIN - in what was quite blatantly a hotel setting. How could I have fallen for it twice??!! Anyway, I practically jumped on the poor guy, shrieking and laughing, despite the niggling guilty feeling in my head that wondered how the hell he'd managed to afford this, since redundancy. Oh well, a lady never asks! Even though I kinda did (He booked it AGES ago, apparently). The hotel was SO nice, all pink and cosy, and just the right side of posh (ie: a little bit, but not too) - whilst our room had a TV and a WHIRPOOL BATH!! Sadly with only room for one person, but still - WHIRLPOOL BATH!!

After a quick room-christening (at least things seem to be back on board in THAT department after last week's events!) we walked down to the central pier, all the better for me to spend a good quarter of my money on those ball-rolling Derby games (I can't help it, THEY'RE SO ADDICTIVE!!) Afterwards we went for a walk along the beach, generally looking round and soaking in the rain and wind lashed surroundings. Good times!

And things were still to get better. We went back to the room (where I took full advantage of the whirlpool bath....!) to get changed, and went down for dinner. Felt a little too dressed up, considering I was in a purple silky top, pencil skirt, fishnets and heels and everyone else was in.... well, normal clothes..... but as Joe ordered a celebratory bottle of champagne and we dug into the amazing 3 course meals, my worries faded away (along with any fears that 23 is seen as: "getting old"). Afterwards we took our drinks into the lounge to join in a huge Bingo game (I won the 2nd one!) before retiring upstairs with another bottle. Tell you what, it doesn't half sound fancier than it is when you put it like that!

Upstairs, we drank the rest of the champers whilst watching "Peep Show" (genius, as always) and unwrapped my presents (although why he'd brought presents AS WELL was beyond me). He got me The Mitchell and Webb book (yesssss!), a "Me-to-You" little bear holding some roses, and some beautiful white gold earrings, which I immediately put in. We went for a walk along the front to get out of our ever-so-slightly boiling room for a while, me tottering along in heels, slightly tipsy from the champagne. We looked at the sea for a while before heading back for sexy rest-of-the-eveing in the room. A pretty sweet birthday indeed!

Saturday - Wow, what can I say? What felt like the longest day in the WORLD surely should not have been so much fun. But it was. Just your typical "doing Blackpool" really, up at half 9 (curse going out with a morning person!) followed by sexy hotel breakfast and a quick trip to nearby town centre for toothbrush and memory card - all the better to hold all 3000 photos I eventually took. Was rather strange seeing the Blackpool AWAY from the tourist-y well-known part, I have to say.

Anyhow, we gambled, running from place to place as my hair gave up the ghost in the wind. We joined the 2-mile long queue for the Tower, only to get in and be told the actual Tower was closed to due high wind speed. DAMMIT!!! Still, had a lot of fun loo9king at sealife, watching a film about dinosaurs and watching the incredible ballroom dancing in the main hall. They had these people, who I don't even think were trained professionals, just getting up and walking onto the floor to do their thing! It was AMAZING!! Sadly couldn't persuade Joe (being that he is extremely averse to dancing - sigh) so we settled up in one of the stalls, providing running commentary for each couple, and watching a very snake-hipped pair have a domestic that they assumed nobody was watching.

Afterwards I introduced him to the wonders of Harry Ramsden's fish and chips - amazingly, he'd never even heard of them! However, 20 minutes of queueing and a big fat portion later, and Mr. H.R had a brand new fan in Joe. After that we did the main pier, which involved 3 main things:

Consumption of 12 doughnuts (I had a craving! You can't get 'em like you do in Blackpool anywhere else!!)
Wind and rain so extreme, it had it's own MTV channel.
Me dragging Joe onto the Big Wheel (and then finding out afterwards he was afraid of heights)

After another whirlpool bath (I MUST get one installed when I win the Lottery) and an incredible dinner, we had a lovely drive along the front for my ever-so-nostalgic-illuminations-viewing. Took about a billion photos while Joe stressed about petrol. Good times. Back in our room there was one last minor sex-related tiff (ie: I want it too much, all the time, and he doesn't) before bed. I really am thinking that if modern relationships are supposedly all about compromise, I'm gonna have to sit on my needs for a while, or at least try and train myself into wanting it less. What is WRONG with me??

Sunday - whilst starting off as slightly awkward, soon cheered up after a fry-up and a quickie (maybe I was just being paranoid!), upon which we realised just how thin the walls are, not to mention how squeaky the bed was. Shit! Suddenly felt very guilty about the baby I could hear next door...... Anyway, we checked out, all back to normal, and drove along the front, off on our merry way. We talked about the flat all the way home.

Upon reaching town, we realised there was no reason for the weekend to end just yet, and therefore went for a Pizza Hut, followed by "Saw 6" - which, can I point out, was simply fucking fantastic. And SO gory!! (Just how I like 'em!) After being dropped at home, I unwrapped more presents in front of X Factor, before promptly passing out. Why DOES sea air make you so damn sleepy??!

But all in all, possibly one of the best birthdays ever. Corny, but 1000% true.

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Current Mood: happy
Current Music: Lady Gaga - "Poker Face"

Pre-birthday good times

2009-10-22T13:10:00.000-07:00

Dear Diary,

Damn, what an absolutely fan-fucking-tastic day I've had. It's the day before my brithday, I'd had the best birthday-eve yet, and on top of that, something is happening tomorrow that I have absolutely NO idea about.

Went to town during the day after an impromptu call from Marie and Susie - inviting me for a film and a Nando's. After a fair amount of bickering, I was forced - I mean, chose - to go see "Dorian Grey" - which actually turned out to be pretty amazing. Aside from all the slightly uncomfortable sex scenes, that is. I found it to be a profoundly beautiful and terrifying story about the danger of vanity and living without consequences, Marie found it a good excuse to perv at a Victorian boy for 2 hours. To be fair, Ben Barnes was pretty gorgeous. And Colin Firth as a reckless, shallow, selfish, leading-astray bad-ass - HELL YES. I have further revised my opinion of the man and his ability to play anything but a bumbling/stuck up English gent/Mr. Darcy spin-off. What a pleasant surprise that was. Well worth a look.

Got dropped home in the afternoon to prepare for tomorrow. I've been prepared for weeks by Joe, for yet another surprise, and truth be told, I am absolutely DYING to know what it is. It is KILLING me. Here are the clues that have been slowly (and subtly) filtered to me thus far:

I must bring:

1 smart outfit, one casual
Comfy shoes
A camera
A suitcase
Hat scarf and gloves
Sunglasses
A tenner

I've been told that:

It will be cold
There will be a fair bit of walking involved
The camera is essential

Do you SEE what I'm up against??! And I've known this information for AGES and have NO idea what's going to happen! First, I think it's ski-ing, which would explain the cold apparel teamed with sunnies. But neither of us can ski. Then I think we're climbing a mountain or hill, but he assures me we're not. And I end up twisting it round and round until I haven't a clue who I am or where I'm from anymore (exaggeration, maybe......)
Well, I'm all packed, guess I'll find out tomorrow.......

In the meantime, I spent a brilliant evening with Mum, Dad, Shaun and Auntie, munching a birthday Chinese and generally drinking a lot of wine and having a whale of a time. Opened a few birthday gifts too, as I'll be alone tomorrow morning, and not seeing anyone till Sunday. Rather fantastically, I got a Paul Smith overnight bag from Grandma (no more carrying a tattered New Look bag to Joe's every Friday!) with £70 tucked in the side pocket, £100 off Mum and Dad, and £30 inside cards from various relatives. Naturally, I'm over the moon, as that's a good chunk of my Sign Language classes paid off now (Level 2 is shockingly expensive). Hurray!!!

Right, I'm off to bed. Although how I'll sleep tonight is BEYOND me........

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Current Mood: damned excited
Current Music: "Happy birthday, Mr. President" - ok, totally joking. I'm actually sat in mediative silence.

Hello Optimism, Goodbye Cat

2009-10-20T06:00:00.001-07:00

Dear Diary,

Last week I had the most incredible revelation. Or rather, it was had FOR me. By one Miss Rhonda Byrne, author of "The Secret." Having had this book pressed upon me by a uni friend, I last read it several years ago, and haven't gone back to it since. But for some reason, today, I just decided that enough was enough. I hadn't heard back from the hotel, I hadn't heard back from Data Entry, I was fed up of feeling negative all the time (because let's be honest, it doesn't really seem to help) and wanted a change. So I read the book again.

To say I'd seen the light was an understatement. I was literally BATHED in it. Suddenly, so much more made sense. I can't really be bothered typing out the whole message right now, just take £12 down to the nearest Waterstones or visit the website. Needless to say, I came away feeling empowered, optimistic, and most of all - happy. It all comes from you thinking, and attracting things to you with the power of your thoughts. Thinking, constantly thinking...... and never once imagining the "what ifs," or negative aspects. If you want something, you have to think and act as if you already have it. Looking for a partner? Clear some space in your wardrobe for his clothes. Want more money? Add a few extra zeros on your bank statement and stick it up on the wall. The book and the website outline the rules more clearly then I, obviously.

Of course, I'm aware that I sound like a raving, wide-eyed loon. But put it this way - after 2 whole days of thinking about nothing but getting more money, I put the Lottery on and bought a scratchcard, both for the first time in 6 years........ and won £20. Straight after that, I picked up the phone, called the estate agents and requested a viewing on the dream flat Joe and I found online the other day. It's arranged for my birthday morning. Things are DEFINATELY looking up!

Having said that, it was pretty awful last Tuesday. Whilst at work on one of my recent extra shifts (yes yes yes!!!) I got FOUR missed calls off Joe - slightly disturbing, as he never rings when I'm working. Long story short - his cat had to be put down. The poor guy was completely cut up - and truth be told, I had tears brimming as I reluctantly went back to pulling pints. It may seem daft and a bit of an over-reaction, but this was a cat with Character. He'd been with Joe's family for 15 years, been his best friend through hard times at school, you get the drift. Hell, he'd even learnt how to sit, talk (well, make noises) and roll over on command. How many cats can do that??! Not to mention he was damned cute, and had the most adorable habit of popping up on the roof.

Landlady eventually sussed something was up from the look on my face, and told me she'd let Joe in after Last Orders, if he wanted to come up for a drink. So he did. Red-eyed and quiet, he raised a small whiskey to the cat's memory, as I choked up to the point of explosion and attempted to wash drip trays.

Rather worryingly, he hasn't been sleeping well since it happened. Have tried everything to help, but who wants to hear someone wittering on about counting sheep when you're coming to terms with a death? And haven't even THOUGHT about sex - it's proving difficult enough getting a smile out of him, let alone trying to make him feel sexy whilst desperately trying to ignore the elephant (or dead cat) in the room.

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Current Mood: torn between optimism and despair
Current Music: "Fight for this love" - Cheryl Cole

Good news and bad

2009-10-08T16:13:00.000-07:00

Dear Diary,

Well, some good news at last. I'm feeling optimistic AND Joe found me a plausible job opening he's applying for as well. Met him for lunch in the city again (bearing sandwiches from Mum's shop - highg school flashback!) where he told me about it. It's Data Entry, boring as bricks, BUT it's in the city, 8 hours a day, 5 days a week..... £12.50 AN HOUR. Can you IMAGINE such a world??! I'd be fetching nearly two grand a month!! So my application is currently sitting in an Inbox somewhere, waiting to be opened......

On a less pleasant note, Pat and I had the mother of all showdowns in the pub. Cannot be rammed recapping (mostly because it makes me fume like rat poison) but in a nutshell, I was told that I'm "unitelligent," "useless," "never gonna make anything of myself" and should "just stick to cleaning and barwork, as that's all you'll ever be good for."

Hmmm. Believe me, I am refraining from calling him all manner of things and threatening all kinds of stuff, partly so as not to come across as a psycho, partly cos I'd never have the balls to carry it out anyway. But needless to say, I was left shaking, furious, and gripping a glass so hard I nearly broke it. How dare he? How fucking DARE he??!! What gives HIM the right to tell me I'm going wrong with my life??! Yes, I may not have leaped into my desired career straight away, or popped a baby out at 21, but that does NOT make me worthless. I tell you what, I'd give a damn sight more to be me than a pathetic old man who drinks 15 pints every single night, freely admits to not being able to "get it up," gets his kicks off trying to guess my bra size and thinks "variety" is wandering down the road to a different pub.

And "unintelligent"?? I have a feeling he's making the mistake many judgemental people do, and confusing "dizzy" with "thick," which REALLY pisses me off. These people don't know me AT ALL. I am NEVER myself when I work in that pub, and only a handful of people in this world actually know what I'm REALLY like. The dizziness, most of the time, is exaggerated to get laughs off friends and tips off punters. Some times I'm just plain forgetful and a little bit easily confused. But I am NOT unintelligent. I get through about 4 books a week, I can sing songs in Latin and speak 3 other languages. I may not be good at maths, but I can comunicate with deaf people, hold debates, have opinions and work my way out of any difficult solution I've ever been in. I know more things than he could ever comprehend. I love reading about our history, have a huge vocabulary and I don't understand politics because I simply have no interest in it. I CHOOSE not to watch the news, not because I don't understand it, but because I hate getting depressed about the state of our world (I already feel shitty enough, I don't need things ADDED to that). And for god's sake, one wonders, if I'm so thick, how the hell did I get into a Grammar school? Because I'll tell you now, my family is by NO means loaded.

And what the hell does it matter anyway? Who decides that academic intelligence is the be-all and end-all? Yes, it probably helps a lot more getting jobs in certain fields, particularly if you're a scientist or whatever. But some of the cleverest, smartest people I know never even went to COLLEGE, let alone university. And that's why people like Pat piss me off - because their shallow, cynical, sanctimonious old selves never let them truly get to know people, and think that there is SO much that they just don't know about. I long for the day my deaf friends from the hospital up the road come in, so he can see me holding a full-blown conversation with them.

I'm aware that I'm coming across as a total dick right now, but I get dick-ish when I'm passionate (or annoyed) about something. But I just can't tell you how irritating it is to see those thick grey eyebrows go shooting up when I come out with a long word, as if to say "How the hell do you know that? You're so thick!" Grrrrr.............

On a similar note, Level 2 Sign Language is going fantastically well. And I'm getting loads of shifts (and therefore money) at the moment. AND Mum's given me some work in my old job at her shop again. Things are DEFINATELY looking up!

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Current Mood: slightly peeved
Current Music: "The end of the world" - R.E.M

Bit of trivia......

2009-10-06T10:50:00.000-07:00

Facts you never knew about me

When I confront people, I go red, get goosebumps up my neck, and go all tingly

I love music from before my time a lot more than music FROM my time

I have to listen to my Ipod before falling asleep - and sometimes imagine myself singing whatever song I'm listening to on the X Factor - and being told by the judges that I'm marvellous.

Despite being hugely lazy and partially employed, I refuse to go on benefits. I will not be one of those undeserving little shits you read about in the paper who take money off decent hardworking people.

When I put my mind to it, I'm actually an excellent cook.

I probably think about sex as much as the average male.

I someday hope to find a dress that maximises my boobs, minimises my stomach, uplifts my arse, stops just above the knee, covers the tops of my arms, screams "Take me to bed this instant"........ and is under £50.

The 3 shops I can never walk past without looking in are Waterstones, La Senza, and Swarovski.

I have a deep and pure hatred of: Lady Gaga, Britney Spears, Those two twins off the X Factor, Pat from the pub, Jordan, and LaToya Jackson (talk about cashing in).

I have an overwhelming addiction to IMDB.

I find Ken Barlow from Corrie strangely attractive (It's the rogueish smile, eye twinkle and massive cultured intelligence)

I don't get Twitter. At all.

My true ambition in life is to play Christine in "Phantom of the Opera"

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Things picking up......

2009-09-29T08:03:00.000-07:00

Dear Diary,

There are some days I quite like being a lady of leisure. Well, except for the fact that the name "Lady of Leisure" implies that you swan around, spending all your time shopping, cooking, or being adored. For me, it's more likely to imply that I'm unemployed, doss around, watch a shitload of TV and do a lot of thinking. ANYway, yesterday was very much what I imagine being a Lady of Leisure would be like. Got the bus into town to meet Joe for lunch and ended up going shopping to kill some time, as I was meeting him after work, too. (Not to mention I had a recent wage burning a hole in my bank account)

It was fantastic, a completely dizzying experience. I'd forgotten just how brilliant it is to actually have money to go shopping with - god knows, I haven't done it in a while. Yes, it was all in Primark, but worth it, totally worth it.

I BOUGHT:

A pair of pink/purple shiny long triangle earrings

A thigh-length mustard yellow jumper/dress

Socks (mine keep disappearing)

A sparkly silver bangle

A pair of brown, knee-length high heeled killer boots (wanted some for ages)

And they were GORGEOUS! Got changed in the nearest possible loo, and strutted merrily down the street, trying to ignore the fact that a) the jumper-dress was producing alarming amounts of sweat per minute and b) the boots, having left the shop, were making the transition from "sexy" to "crippling." Met Joe after work and shared a tram home.

We were supposed to be going swimming, but for the 5th week in a row, some accursed children were holding another gala, leaving a pissed-off Joe to suggest bowling instead. He won all 3 games but remained in a bad mood all night, grrrr...... At the risk of sounding unsupportive, he's so annoying when he gets moody, sometimes.

Tuesday - was quite exciting. Met Joe for lunch again, and (in a vicious explosion of "I'm so fucking fed up of being unemployed") decided to go in every single building I passed on the way home, asking for jobs. And would you believe it, I was sucessful. The first hotel I encountered, and not only was it dead posh, but they gave me an application form to fill in ON THE SPOT. Or should I say on a very low glass-topped awkwardly-placed table (think Will Smith in "Men in Black"). But still, all very exciting. Having said that, there was another reason I left to find a job with such fire in my belly. Quite a big reason really (In fact, it seems that all of these big Life revelations and happenings are all coming at once).

Put frankly: Over lunch, over a Subway, Joe asked me to move in with him. LET ME EXPLAIN!! We were talking about how desperately we hated living at home, still, and wanted to get away. Especially since he's 26 and all. After a long talk of how much fun it'd be to be able to afford your own space, etc... etc.... and after a hell of a lot of "umm"-ing and "errr"-ing, he basically came out with it.

Folks, I am stunned. Trouble is, there's such a massive, gigantic part of me that's screaming "YES YES YES!!!!!" to the idea, but the practical part of me (maybe located on my elbow) is saying; "Hang on, slow the hell down." Any thoughts? I welcome any advice, as usual. I sat there, attractively gawping at him as he reassured me I didn't have to agree, mentally running over a list of Pros and Cons, as outlined:

PROS OF LIVING WITH JOE:

I'd see him all the time

I could be forgiven for expecting sex on tap (and would possibly get it too)

I could cook. EVERY SINGLE NIGHT.

I would be all grown-up and proper and a normal independant human being at last.

It would be wicked to have someone with a logical brain (i.e: Joe) sort the bills, taxes and all that depressing shit out for me.

We could hang out and watch TV and do what we normally do - BUT I WOULDN'T HAVE TO GO HOME AFTERWARDS.

I would finally have somewhere to put my massive poster collection.

He has a 27 inch. TV, you deviants...... And also a Freeview box, and an XBOX!!

I have a shitload of furniture and devices from uni days, so we could get an unfurnished flat. Cheaper, as I understand......

He could invite his groovy mates round and we could have Wii tournaments and get really pissed and have fun!

We could share showers, and therefore water!

He's an excellent cook.

He is quite understanding, and would therefore not be bothered if I took off for an hour or so to read in solitude.

I would get away from all the nagging and pestering and live my life as I want to (*cough* Mum)

I would have someone to share the rent with (i.e: CHEAPER!)

Joe doesn't mind cooking and is quite tidy. YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEES!!!!!

CONS OF LIVING WITH JOE:

I would see him all the time. Wouldn't that take some of the mystery away?

He is massively childish sometimes. After a few weeks of this, wouldn't I flip and hit him with a saucepan or something? Having said that, I am the Queen of Repressing things. But what if that erupted in the form of a tumour?

Some of the privacy would go. I don't even like going to the loo in his house..... but living together? I would HAVE to!!

Just SUPPOSING we broke up (can't see it happening, but STILL) it would be..... well, I'm sure you can guess.

I'd have to be all grown-up and independant and actually think about things.

We've only been seeing each other 5 months. Is that too soon?

Would feel slightly uncomfortable putting Michael Jackson posters up. Have a feeling Joe's not a huge fan.....

He doesn't call them "flats" he calls them "professional apartments." Can I really LIVE with someone like that??!

When it's "Lady time" I wouldn't be able to withdraw gracefully for a week, he'd actually be there, and KNOWING about it.

Anyway, have a long time to think about it. We're thinking maybe after Christmas, if it actually goes ahead (and we get some motherfricking jobs sometime soon). All advice gratefully received!

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Current Mood: baffled and scared

Current Music: "Give" - Tori Amos

Work, work, work

2009-09-27T13:58:00.000-07:00

Dear Diary,

Luckily, this week has picked up massively - although still without any further word from Marie. Ah well, she knows where I am and that I'm always here for her. Suppose she can talk to me in her own time.....

Thursday - was the dread day, the day of my final Unit 3 Deaf exam. Having said that, there's something immensely fun about us all being cooped up in the kitchen, joined in nervousness and comraderie. I took the tutor's Hearing Dog for a quick run round the block (frig me, for a tiny dog she pretty much dragged me along), maybe to earn some brownie points and therefore pass...... who knows? Sadly my exam didn't seem to go too well, I cocked up several times, which made me even more scared. Mind you, afterwards it was pointed out that if you did REALLY terrible, they rewound the tape and filmed it all again, which thankfully, didn't happen with me. So can't have been that bad! Afterwards Joe and I went for a celebratory 3 course meal at TGIs, despite Mum's dire warnings of being back by 11pm. Ah, living at home, you can't beat it.

Friday - felt like the longest day ever. Went to work at mum's shop, comme d'habitude. Having said that, it really is good fun hanging out with the girls who work there, there's some filthy humour flying around! Which admittedly is difficult to partake in with Mum around, but still fun. Got home completely exhausted, only to be called into a pub shift. So no time with joe, and a mad busy irritating shift. Still it was busy, which meant £8 tips. Woo!

Saturday - I naturally slept all morning, before heading to my usual shift. And had to get changed in the toilets AGAIN ready for a birthday night out with Anne in town. Starting to get slightly paranoid that the punters either think I'm a crazy party animal or someone who pretends she always has somewhere to go, to maintain illusions of a busy life. But fuck it, what can you do? September's a busy month.

Stayed out for a few hours before getting picked up by Joe (telling Anne I was exhausted and slightly ill - almost the truth) Went back to his for a pizza, Family Guy, and amazing sex - why is it always better when I haven't seen him in a while? Hmmm......

Today - Nothing much. Mastered a new position, had a Top Gear marathon and a Subway and got driven to work for a good shift. Mum did a roastie, and a very chilled evening was had by all!

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Current Mood: sleepy
Current Music: "Work" - Kelly Rowland vs. Freemasons (Nothing to do with blog title, I just can't get it out my head at the moment!)

Troublesome Tuesdays

2009-09-23T17:04:00.000-07:00

Dear Diary,

What a strange dichotomy this past few days have been. From on top of the world to the depths of anger and despair within a mere matter of hours. Starting at the beginning:

Monday - was called in for an afternoon shift (I'm gonna be WADDED after all this) which was completely dead, for a change. Not that I'm complaining, it's wonderful to sit on your arse and read the paper, engage in banter and pour the occasional pint - whilst getting paid for it. It's the tips that usually suffer. Somedays I don't even break the £3 barrier. Le sigh.

As it was Shaun's birthday on Sunday (he LOVED his presents!) we were off for a meal after work, so got changed in the loos (which is starting to feel like a pattern) and picked up by parents. Accompanied by Damien and Amy, a friend (not girlfriend) of Shaun's, we went to the Lowry Designer Outlet ("where eeeeeeeeeeeeeelse can you get it all?") to sample a new Bella Italia that had just opened. It was absolutely incredible. Under the guise of asking about job vacancies, I sneakily passed a cake to the gorgeous Scouse manager, which he later brought over to the table, demanding the entire restaurant sing Happy Birthday. In ITALIEN. (Which, for those interested, is "Tanti Auguri a te") Slight sticky moment when the waiter told them all to sing it to John (ah, Scousers) but it was fun. Shaun was pleasantly embarrassed, and Amy and I shared a dessert called "The Godfather." I'm sure you can guess what it was like - we practically had to be rolled home.

Tuesday - started so well, and slowly descended into madness. But I'm getting ahead of myself. After another boring nondescript day, I met Joe after work, all the better to squeeze in some last minute Sign Language practice before Thursday's exam. We went to a tiny underground student-y bar he hadn't been in since before he moved to Czech, practised for a while, and got a Subway tea. But the weird bit was on the way home. As we sat on the tram, nearing my stop, all I could think was that I didn't want to leave him. I contemplated just staying on, all the way to his, and ignoring my shift and the consequent fallout. Naturally, reason provailed, but as I was getting off, I felt a strange aching sensation....... combined with genuine sadness as I waved at him through the window. It was weird, like I physically missed him - after only leaving him a mere few seconds ago. Yikes. Is THAT what love feels like?

Sat grumpily at work, developing a cold, and stewing over Pat's jibes, as usual. Thankfully it was quite a busy shift, due to the Bingo, I suppose. I received a lot of texts from Joe, and then, rather alarmingly, one from Marie, (who I hadn't seen since the aggressive-friend incident a few weeks back):

"Hey hun, how r u? Working 2nite?"
"Not bad, nice busy shift. How's everything?"
"Had a bottle of wine. Might come visit u in a bit - he just dumped me by txt"

WHAT???! Naturally, I was furious, and told her to come as soon as possible. I mean, how downright low and cowardly a thing is that to do to someone? At least have the balls to say it to her face! The twat.

Spent the evening trying to balance talking to Marie and looking like I was busy working everytime the Landlady appeared, but thankfully her friend Steve showed up soon after. I've met him before, and he's very nice, but the trouble was he seemed to be inching closer to her every time I walked by. And there was the old arm round the waist. Yikes. Even after I'd arranged with Marie for her to come stay at mine, he seemed to have designs of his own. Ugh. Not stereotyping here, but how come a lot of the men I've encountered or heard of seem so keen on hitting on you, when you've only just been dumped? Or even whilst you're still WITH someone? Hmph....... He gave me a "don't worry, I have a car, I will make sure she gets back to mine safely" look, I gave him a "you so much as DARE try getting her into your bed and I will cut you up and leave you in buckets" look.

Eventually Marie (despite all my massive objections) decided to let him take her home. Sigh. I love her to bits, but shit, sometimes she just doesn't learn. Anyhow, I told her to text me when she got home safe.
I got home, had a lovely phone call with Joe, and got into my PJs. And that's when it happened.

My phone rang, it was Marie. Gasping, sobbing and generally incoherent, she was alone somewhere, walking home. Which, can I point out, is fucking MILES from my village, especially in massive heels. Couldn't get anything out of her, apart from the fact that she'd had a huge arguement with Steve and got out the car, leaving him to drive beside her making sure she was safe, until she told him to fuck off and leave her alone. So, I was left to throw my clothes on, leave a note and use my last tenner to jump a taxi and go find her.

Eventually caught up with her, waiting outside a pub near hers. She sobbed on my shoulder, refusing to tell me anything other than "a group of lads were yelling at me." She didn't say anything else, but Christ, I hope it wasn't the unthinkable. No matter what I asked though, she wouldn't tell me. Eventually stopped asking, but wished there was something I could do. What CAN you do in this situation apart from just be there?

Back at hers, it was pretty awful. One of her friends from Drama was there, as she'd called him in desperation too. We took her into the kitchen and put a cup of tea in her hands, but all she would do was stare into space, answering in monosyllables. It was pretty awkward to be honest, none of us knew what to say, and I couldn't even make an innapropriate joke, as I normally would do. The lad eventually left at 3am (having work in the morning) so Marie and I sat on the sofa for ages in silence, her head on my shoulder. Her mum came down three times but Marie just told her to go away and refused to say anything.

Around 4am she finally decided sleep was a good idea. It was horrible - I was madly tired and ready to fall asleep every 5 seconds, but she was shivering and sniffing a lot, so I stayed awake as long as possible to comfort her. Turns out I didn't need to.

About half 4, her phone rang. Guess who it was? Her ex. Her stupid, ignorant, just-dumped-her-this-very-evening-by-text, pestering ex, claiming "his head was all over the place" and he "felt like shit." All him-him-him, basically. Marie listened quietly as he ranted on and on, only interjecting with one-word replies, as I practically ground my teeth into stumps, sitting on my hands so as not to grab the phone and smash it. Even when she told him she'd been attacked, he asked about it for about 20 seconds and then continued to justify why he'd chucked her, the cunt. She hung up 3 times, and every time he rang her back, begging her to go and see him. At 4:30am. I lay there, furiously mouthing and shaking my head, but to no avail.

And that is how, at 5am, after I'd spent a tenner in a taxi going to help her, she somehow found enough money to get a taxi to her ex-boyfriend's (who'd just dumped her) house, leaving me, the only friend who'd ran to her aid at 2 in the morning, alone in her house with her mum and brother.

Now is it just me, or is that......? Oh, you know what, I'm not going to stew about it. How can I, when something bad happened to my friend? I'm not angry at her. But I do think that was a slightly stupid thing to do. The only reason I would go see an ex after that would be to kick him in the hairy plums and spit in his eye.

Today - I woke up in my clothes after 2 hours sleep. Marie's mum, god love her, gave me lift home, as it was near my area. Felt awful at not being able to tell her what happened, but she didn't press. She dropped me off outside Morrisons, where I bought a Subway and jumped a bus home. Spent all day watching films under a duvet, feeling like shit, and texting Marie every hour or so (to no reply). Finally caught up on sleep in the afternoon, before heading off to a completely dead shift at the pub this evening.
Still no reply from Marie. Well, no satisfactory one anyway. Simply said: "Still at his, got some sleep."

No "thank you," or anything. I know, I'm a bad person for expecting one, but still..........

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Current Mood: shattered
Current Music: "Stairway to heaven" - Led Zeppelin

The day I became a Buzzcocks fan

2009-09-21T04:44:00.000-07:00

Dear Diary,

Holy actual shit. Cor bloody blimey and crikey, with ants on top. Yet again, you catch me on anonther Landmark day - or rather, 2 days after one. You literally will not BELIEVE my tale. Or rather, you will, because this is real life, and these things happen everyday, everywhere. But still - humour me. It's a tale of passion, madness, danger, adventure, love, freedom, hilarity and food. OK, maybe only one of those. BUT WHICH??? Read on.....

Starting off where I left you last week: Thursday was shite. Got called into work, thereby missing a vital last-one-before-next-exam Deaf Class..... all so I could sit in a dead pub. Seriously, at one point there was literally just one customer for a whole 2 hours. I didn't even need to be there.

Friday - was a cross between brilliant and awful. Brilliant because, due to another staff dropout (why are they so in vogue at the moment??) at Mum's shop, I've now been called in as a replacement on Fridays. Helloooooooooooo extra £40 a week! And brilliant because I had a slight "pregnancy relief," if you like. Truth be told, as staunch as I am on condom-sex, a few weeks ago, I relented, briefly. Harmless I suppose, as we've both been tested (who said romance was dead?), were very careful, and if anything else..... he's my boyfriend. OK, I snapped..... and have been letting Joe do the unthinkable for a while now. But whilst I knew there was little-to-no chance of it happening, I did get slightly paranoid a few days ago, when naught had arrived. But no worries.

So that was brilliant. But Friday was also awful. Awful because, in a shocking twist, Joe has been made redundant.

Having picked up a subdued voicemail from him (whilst hiding in the loos) I raced onto my break to call him and make sense of things. Mum was surprisingly understanding - well, she has been there before, I suppose. After a lot of phone calls and texts, it emerged that, despite just having his contract extended, he's now out. Goodbye to his discounted travel, good pay, steady job, etc.... Naturally he was completely gutted. I spent a lot of time trying to say the right thing (what CAN you say, really?) but he just seemed to be worried that I was going to leave him "because he didn't have a job." Like balls I will. He's stuck with me, and I've been unemployed since I met him - not to mention I'm not particularly driven by money as it is (a characteristic Dad has told me never ever to lose). Obviously I launched into a massive I'm-not-with-you-for-your-money spiel, which seemed to cheer him up.

As he'd walked out of work, we met up earlier than usual, heading back to his for pizza and a cracking night of Friday night telly. Derren Brown, Peep Show, IT Crowd, Inbetweeners - what's not to love? Tried the Derren Brown glued-to-your-sofas trick, but it didn't work on either of us. Maybe, in all fairness, because we were on a bed. But still, he is strangely magnetic to watch. I wonder if it's true that he's gay?

Later though, his mystic powers caused an alarming incident - just as we were in bed, slowly drifting off to sleep, Joe turned over, and in a very worried voice, procclaimed that; "Derren Brown's just given me an erection." Now, BEAR WITH ME. As I started getting extremely (and understandably) fucking confused, he told me that he'd been lying there, drifting off to sleep, and just as his mind wandered onto the evening's hypnotic sofa experiment, Captain Joe had sprung to attention. What the hell??! Well, I'm not one to let it go to waste, so, after a good bout of hysterical laughing, took matters into my own hands, as it were. But damn. What could this MEAN?? I came up with 2 conclusions:

1) Joe is secretly gay and represses it, even to himself.
2) That bearded trickster Mr. Brown secretly put erection-causing subliminal frames/messages into his programme for the sole purpose of ensuring that some men across the UK will get laid on Friday night. Or just to freak them out.

It's entirely possible.

So, onto Saturday - the landmark day. Pretty average day - went to town, bought the rest of Shaun's present, got home, wrapped it, pampered. Went to work with an outfit in a bag - all the better for changing into and zooming off into town to celebrate Joe's friend Chris's birthday! Am slightly ashamed but also a little proud of what I came up with as a method for "pre-night-out-drinking." You know, the type you do when you're getting ready, to get a fun little buzz on before you go out, and also save money getting pissed? I managed to pour almost an entire bottle of Rose wine into a "Fruits of the Forest flavoured" water bottle. Perfect cover, eh? Got chanegd in the loos at work and then I was off, sipping my "water" and waiting for the tram. I know, I know, I'm such a wino. But at least not an OBVIOUS wino - to anyone else I was just a girl, dressed for a night on the tiles, drinking flavoured water (Wore the new brown top/dress over leggins, with heels and pearl accessories).

Met Joe on the tram, who, incidentally, LOVED the wine idea, and even partook of a few sips. Ah, someone who understands my strange and disturbing ways, BRILLIANT! Soon we were stood in a trendy Oxford Road bar, waiting for the others. As Joe ordered the drinks (me feeling very guilty as I remembered his recent redundancy) I turned to my left to see two attractive lads stood right next to me, staring straight at me. After a few seconds of confusing staring back, I realised it was Pete and Matt (not before they clocked that I hadn't recognised them - d'oh!), who gave me a hug and a kiss, just as I was offering to shake his hand. Damn him, I'd forgotten how gorgeous he was. Oh well, a girl can look!

I forgot how much fun it is to go out with boys, though - I may have been the only X-chromosome there, but damn, you hear things that make you laugh till you nearly cry. And there's a hell of a lot more drinking. Anyway, after an hour chattering away, we went to another bar, where we were joined by the birthday boy. And then It happened.

After attacking the jukebox and quiz machine for half an hour, I stood watching some of the lads play pool, admiring the huge "Pink Floyd Back Catalogues" poster on the wall - same as the one Lisa gave me, months ago. All of a sudden, a fast song with a wicked bassline came on, a song I'd heard a million times before, but never knew the lyrics - or even the name. Joe approached me, looking very nervous. And then, I kid you not, this is (roughly) how the conversation went.

K: "You OK?"
J: "Yeah, fine. You like this song?"
K: "Meh.... don't really know it. Why?"
J: "I put it on for you."
K: "Aw, sweet! Thanks!"
J: "You don't know it, do you?"
K: "Yeah I do....... kinda. Can't hear the lyrics, though."
J: "Aw, no.... see, that's why I put it on, cos of the lyrics. I've been wanting to say this for ages, and I didn't know how to."
K: "Say what? Hang on, let me listen..... (*tucks large amounts of huge curly hair behind ears and attempts to distinguish words*) No, sorry, what're they saying?"
J: "The song's called 'Ever fallen in love' and the lyrics are basically 'Ever fallen in love with someone you shouldn't have.'"
K: "Oh right, cool!"
(*Massive, epic pause as something very large suddenly clunks into place in Kat's brain*)
K: "Wait a minute...... you just said....... in love."
J: "Yeah."
K: "You....... wait, you mean...... Wait, seriously?"
J: "Yeah...... (*Huge, anguished pause*) Look, I tried to keep it to myself, I'm sorry, I don't want to put any pressure on you, but it's just..... I don't know, there's something about you, and you just make me so happy when I'm with you. You're always doing all these lovely things for me, and you're just so sweet all the time. All my mates love you, my dad thinks you're great, and I just...... I never expected to find someone like you."
K: (*Stunned expression*) "Why 'shouldn't' you have fallen in love, though? What's wrong with that?"
J: "Because I've only known you 4 months, and I know it's not that long, so I didn't want to rush things. And you know, you don't have to say it back, but...... I'm sorry, this is not the most romantic time or place to say it, but I couldn't hold it in any longer. When we went to Chill Factor that time, and you beat me down the slope and you were taking the piss out of me - I started getting really annoyed, and then I just realised, 'You're not annoyed, you love her!' So, you know..... I just wanted you to know."
K: (*Tears brimming up*) "I love you too"

And with that, I turned tail, and fled to the loo.

I sat on the toilet, sobbing hysterically and beaming over my face, through the sobs. I wondered why I was crying so much, and then realised it was because I was scared. I was scared of opening myself up again, I was scared of trusting another man, I was scared of everything and anything. And then (possibly aided by alcohol consumption) I realised that I was scared for a reason - because I've never been in love before. I was terrified by what it meant, and how it worked, and what was going to happen next in the great adventure of Life. I was scared of the concept and how it left you feeling whenever things went tits up. But somehow I knew that with Joe, it wasn't going to happen.

I dried my face and walked out to hastily re-apply make-up. Becky (Chris's girlfriend) appeared and asked if I was OK. Fair enough, all they saw was me with tears running down my face, running to the loo after a long talk with Joe. Apparently Matthew even took him aside and berated him for "upsetting" me (awwwww!). I told her what happened, she smiled and understood.

Went back out and had a very lengthy discussion with Joe about it all. Can't remember it all, and it's too long to reccount anyway. Suffice to say, we left the place very happy bunnies indeed. I cheered when I got out onto the street.

The only thing that worried me was the complete lack of physical reaction. Given all the millions of books/films/plays there are on the subject, I expected the feeling of being in love to be something akin to fireworks, sparks and joyous head-spinning excitement. But I haven't once felt that. Maybe I'm jaded? Or just have too much of a "modern" approach to it all? Who cares? All I know is how I feel now. And it feels good.

(P.S: Here's the actual song. You'll know it, even if you think you don't)

Moved on to several bars after that, before staggering to the Night Bus, homeward bound. I sat behind an older guy I knew from uni, and sang along to my Ipod out loud.

Sunday - woke up in Joe's bed, Macdonald's bag on the floor (Ooops). Was a little shy at first, but after a little it-wasn't-the-drink-talking-was-it? chat, things were repeated and the morning was brightened, despite the quite abnormally massive hangover. To cure it, we wandered to the corner shop to pick up some munchies and went to the local park. We sat and had a picnic on a bench. I ate Dairylea Lunchables for the first time in years. We watched the remote-controlled speedboats create rainbows for a brief second, as they whizzed through the water. And we discussed that the blind steaming fucking hell we're going to do, now neither of us have jobs. Obviously, we have to get proper, well-paying ones. And soon. Neither of us can stand living at home anymore, and to have a flat to move into, you must have wonga.

Both of us have the same work ideals: we want to get very well-paid for doing as little as possible, or at least something challenging that we enjoy doing. I don't want to work for anyone, I don't want to do the 9-5, watching the clock and counting down till the next break. And neither does he. So essentially, we're fucked. I mean, there is nothing out there as it is, and very little to fuck-all we could get to match our criteria in this unstable time. We stared desperately at a passing Canadian goose, as if hoping it would give us financial advice. We chatted to a war veteran who stopped in front of us on his motorized wheelchair. We wandered through the nearby woods and fields, throwing ideas around. Maybe we'd both become published authors! Maybe we'd become highly-paid Sign Language Interpreters! (Apparently they can fetch up to £60 an hour. £60. AN HOUR!!!) Maybe we could do whatever the fuck we wanted! We could just stay in all the time, watching "Top Gear" and having sex, and emerging only for food! Silly ideas, I know, but it was a glorious sunny day, we'd professed our love, we were still fairly young and for a minute, as dreamy and impossible as it sounds, it really did feel like everything would be alright.

Back at his we watched the "Mock the Week" DVD I bought him and celebrated our retreating hangovers - and the fact that I wasn't in work till the evening. We went for the "Last Supper" - a curry at our favourite place to mark the last time we'd be able to just casually go out, now we were both having to save.

The shift at work was completely dead. But I had a smile on my face all night.

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Current Mood: still slightly stunned
Current Music: "Ever fallen in love" - The Buzzcocks (well, it had to be downloaded!)

Weeks again.....

2009-09-16T17:17:00.000-07:00

Dear Diary,

Oh, what a busy week I've had (well, 4 days). I tell you what, obvious as it sounds, it's so much more fun actually DOING things that sitting around at home all day, reading a book for the 80th time and numbingly searching/applying for jobs online.

Following drunken exploits in 5th Ave on Friday, I semi-hungover-ly made my way to work on Saturday. Tight as it sounds, I'm glad Sam left without a word - I've now got Saturday and Sunday afternoons as a permanent shift (well, for now) and truth be told, I don't really miss her. She was one of those late twenty-something types of women I never really know how to talk to, and who gave me the impression that she never liked me. No loss, really.

Saturday afternoon/evening was fan-fucking-tastic. After the lift home, and not really seeing each other properly for 2 weeks (myriad of factors - auntie's birthday, illness, work, Lady time, etc....) Joe and I spent the evening "re-connecting" as it were. Oh great, I'm talking in therapy-speak. Ah well. Went for an INCREDIBLE meal at a local mediterranean, slightly expensive but worth it beyond all belief. I can highly recommend the Pork risotto - despite the fact that it wasn't actually me who ordered it. But oh my god, there were live guitarist accompanying in the corner, and holes in the walls with candles in them. And a chocolate pudding that melted when you cut into it! Not to mention amazing oh-my-god-I-haven't-seen-you-properly-in-two-weeks! sex back at his. PERFECT evening. At least he isn't ill anymore.

Monday was pretty dull, as per. And once again, for the 4th week in a row, there was a children's gala on at the swimming baths. Oh CURSE those thoughtless halflings interferring with my desire to lose weight! Especially since we ended up traipsing to Pizza Hut instead.

Good news though, Mum's announced that we're all off to the Lakes at New Year, to hang out in a Bunk Barn. You know, to drink, enjoy the good times and be merry with other families/friends. Had no idea this was even planned (apparently it's been booked since January this year) but I've been told to bring Joe, who's well up for it. There are only 3 drawbacks:

1) We are not allowed to sleep in the same bed. Fair enough, as they are bunk beds. But even worse - we have to sleep in seperate allocated rooms, ie: all the men together and all the women together. CURSES!! Have already attempted to devise a way around this...... All advice gratefully received!
2) Joe is unendingly polite (annoyingly so, sometimes). This means, when round at our house, he apologises for so much as setting foot in a room, unless he's been expressely invited by Dad. And he calls everyone "Mr." or "Mrs. " *INSERT SURNAME HERE* It's sweet, I suppose, but how on earth will he cope when there's 40 of us getting pissed, running from room to room and dancing in the lounge?
3) This is a walking holiday. You know what that means. There will be walks. Incredibly fucking LONG ones. Possibly whilst hungover.

So, thus begins the rigorous (and vigorous) mutual promise made last night - that we will strive to either lose weight or at least get marginally fitter before New Year, so as not to humiliate selves or DIE on the long trek round.

My approach to walking is either lag along at the back, away from everyone else (who really wants to walk with a moaner?) grumbling to myself, or to storm on, Ipod firmly buried in ears, keeping my own pace and my own company. Until I'm caught up by one of the enthusiastic adults, taking a sudden interest in "what I'm up to right now." Sweet ball-all is the answer to that, Uncle Graham. As I told you at the last dinner party my Mum threw. And the one before that. But thanks for reminding me of my uselessness!

Tuesday and Wednesday were boring. Tuesday, Damien came round for tea, for the latest round of inter-parental "jokey" put-downs and the usual package of food thrust upon him (I swear, it's like being back at uni, seeing him helplessly accept Mum's prepared food parcels).

Today I went to town with Mum and bought a gorgeous brown low-cut top (the kind you can wear as a top or a dress) and some Armani Code aftershave for Shaun's impending birthday. Chicken in a basket! The AMOUNT of people with September birthdays is MIND boggling!! Had my usual pub shift and was pleasantly surprised with a visit from Alice. And even better - the pub was dead, so she had no leering men to deal with.

Tragically, the Landlady revealed something the other night - apparently it's not just a "dead spell" we've been having recently (3 weeks, at last count). It's hit everybody, it would seem. And not just because of the Recession, either...... according to the Landlady's bleak prediction: "British pubs are on the way out." I protest angrily, saying that it's a tradition, and part of our culture and what makes us Britain. She refuses to believe me. How depressing a thought is that? Can you imagine a rough day without nipping out for a pint after work? Or old men meeting to play cards with their friends? Will they now have to relocate to loud, impersonal, trendy bars just to hang out for a quiet drink? Will we all? Pubs are part of the community, and I find it wildly unfair that such a huge part of the public's lives should be shunted out the way just because of quiet spell.

Having said that, I'd rather be on the other side. I'm getting really fucking fed up of working there at the moment.

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Current Mood: chirpy
Current Music: "Losing my religion" - REM

The 5th avenue in Hell

2009-09-12T04:59:00.000-07:00

Dear Diary,

Thursday was fantastic. Thursday was the day of my 2nd Sign language exam - or Unit 2 as it's supposed to be called. Trouble is, last week, Sandra (the tutor's translator - pretty useless since she's only on Level 2) took me aside and told me that since I hadn't paid for the exam yet (or the remaining £80 of my fees) I wasn't allowed to take it. Furiously, I decided to show up anyway, just to pay some money and at least get some practice in. Turns out both Joe and another student were paying for their exams on the days, and THEY hadn't been told they were delayed.

Buoyed up by Kaz and Joe, I confronted Sandra the minute she scuttled into the kitchen (on a break from filming duties), and within 30 seconds, backed up by the others, I'd received a throughly outsmarted"Yes.... alright then" from her, and a "Yes of course! Why not?" from the tutor when I marched in to politely ask again. RESULT!!!

The exam went brilliantly. We had 3 topics to choose from. I chose Pets (the only one in the class who didn't go for Family) and basically did the same as in the practice/demonstration last week. I have 2 guinea pigs, "Clyde and Dylan" (I've always loved those names) who slep outside, love cuddles and eating, are black and brown with small ears and I bought them at a pet shop. And that took 5 minutes. Next thing I know, the camcorder was switched off, and the tutor was giving me the sign for "Brilliant." RE-FUCKING-SULT!!!! Went for a drink with Joe after to celebrate - he did equally as well, it would seem.

So yesterday was Alice's birthday - intended to be celebrated back in good old "up north" (or down South, technically - given where she's been for the past year). So naturally, after an entire DAY of getting ready, she came round to my house, where I presented her presents (Thornton's chocolates and an "Alice"-style scarf) and helped polish off an entire bottle of wine. Soon we were on the tram, meeting Neil and K, off to experience Manchester's many delights.

What a fantastic night - drinks consumed, old friends meeting up, a slight kissing drama (not with me.... for a change), the usual. Made our way from pub to bar, eventually landing at 5th Ave. Ah yes. Now, far be it from me to criticise any club, but after that night (and several others in the same reign) I have come to the conclusion that 5th Ave was based on the design of Hell. Observe:

Constant, pressing, stifling, in-escapable heat. All the time. EVERYWHERE.

No/little chance of any relief (ie: bar and toilet queues go on for-fucking-ever)

Constant crowds, wherever you turn

Having to pretend you're pleased to see someone from school who once bullied you, who is now hugging you to death and calling you a "legend"

90/10 = Smoke/Oxygen ratio

Barely able to see

Unrecognisable music (well, to me, anyway)

Quite a lot of knobheads

No chance of escape (unless you are willing to pay, which leads to:)

Arsehole bouncers on the doors, waiting to bleed you dry, and then some more.

It was incredible. We literally had to pay a quid just to LEAVE the place! Unbelievable. Maybe it started as a ploy to deter smokers, who knows? Either way, at one point I ended up locking myself in a loo for about 10 minutes to get away from it all - just listening to the brainless, idiotic girl-chatter from the other side, and thinking that society is definately doomed if we're handing it over to these tarted-up adolescents. Jesus, was I ALWAYS this cynical? Or is it just since I've started seeing a man who makes Jeremy Clarkson look like a shy retiring wallflower? Either way, I had many cynical thoughts about nights out, which I swore to write down, as they were actually quite insightful and accurate. But I forgot them. Ah well, it happens every time I go out, I'll just wait till next time. Not much happened upon returning to the group....... we danced, took photos, I lost a favourite cardigan, which the staff had NO interest in helping me find.... good times!

Afterwards we sat on the pavement outside, Neil randomly massaging my shoulders and telling me I had "lots of tension." Is that something people just say to sound like they know what they're talking about? What did I POSSIBLY have to be tense about? No job, no rent, no mortgage....... my "bullshit" antennae was waving, to say the least...... We stumbled across the road for a pizza and I rang Joe to come pick us up (it was all pre-arranged, as a taxi cost a bomb and he didn't want us getting the Night bus home). Felt incredibly guilty when I remembered how ill he'd been this week, but soon we were cramming ourselves in his Saab, filling the air with pepperoni pizza essence and Alice trying to explain how meeting him while she was smashed "just wasn't good enough!"

Anyway, got home safe and sound, and soon tucked ourselves in Shaun's bed, munching the pizza and discussing the drama (which I'm sworn to secrecy over - ah feck it, it's probably on her blog anyway) of the night. The next morning we had sausage butties and she drove home. Next time I see her, it'll probably be in Newcastle, where she's moved to for the next leg of her course.

All in all, a pretty sweet birthday!

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Current Mood: aching and tired

Current Music: "I predict a riot" - Kaiser Chiefs

Gym bunnies

2009-09-09T16:27:00.000-07:00

Dear Diary,

Not really much going on here recently, just for a change. Monday I was supposed to go swimming with Joe, which was unfortunately cancelled, due to a children's gala. Yeah, holding a gala in place of the 1 HOUR OF THE WEEK they let adults swim on their own (well, figuratively)??! Genius idea. Naturally I was in a huge I-actually-wanted-to-go-do-some-exercise huff, until we went bowling instead. Lost every single game, but still had a cracking time. Went to Pizza Hut afterwards as well, mmmm......

Tuesday was quite interesting - Joe had decided he might be into joining my gym. I know I know - originally I was terrified at the thought, due to a myriad of factors, really: Him seeing me all sweaty and unattractive, my space being invaded, feeling pressured to go because he would be, not being able to focus and listen to music because I have that inescapable thing where if someone's stood near me I HAVE to talk to them......

Luckily he got a free day's pass - and it was strangely nice. OK, I was horrified at just how fit he his - years of football training sent him soaring onto the treadmill and up to Level 12 before I could even start walking. But I suppose the good thing about it was it made me all angry and embarrassed and competitive - which made me up my game and consequently nearly killed me - but gave me the best workout I've ever done.

In more interesting news - Alice is home for birthday on Friday (what the HELL can I get her??!) and Mum has told me she's giving me money for my birthday this year - towards paying for more Sign Language lessons. FANTASTIC!!!

Work tonight, grrr.... Oh well, 2nd Sign exam to look forward to tomorrow! (*knees quake*)

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Current Mood: slightly grumpy
Current Music: "Stop" - Pink Floyd

More birthdays......

2009-09-06T14:33:00.001-07:00

Dear Diary,

Last two days have been pretty good. It was Auntie's birthday a few days ago, so we trekked up to hers to partake in some champagne before heading out. I tell you what though, she is literally IMPOSSIBLE to buy for. What do you buy the woman who not only has everything, but is also turning 50??! Not cool. Anyway, Shaun and I pitched in (well, I picked, Shaun paid me half) and eventually opted for a book of local walks (her and Dan love walking) and a beautiful crystal swan from BHS - which I convinced Shaun was from Swarovski and knocked his payback money up by £15. Oh yes, I have entered the ruthless business world! Or I'm a shameless, desperate sham artist milking my own brother.....

Anyway, Auntie loved it, and at my suggestion put it in the conservatory, so the sun could hit it and make the room sparkle. I even saw tears in her eyes, which I must admit, gave me a warm feeling - especially since I've never actually seen her cry. Afterwards we went out for an AMAZING meal, and OH MY GOD!!! I HAD OYSTERS!!! Yes, I finally tried the last seafood on my list still to consume before I was 30, and by George and every British monarch, they were fucking INCREDIBLE!! They came all warm, filled up with a sort of cheesy thermidour sauce (like the Hilton lobsters), all ready to just be sliced free and poured down my throat. And damn, it's true what they say..... my head was swimming after 10 minutes!

Grandma was hilarious as well, flirting with the Italien waiter and saying she "missed" Joe (despite only ever having met him once). Sadly he couldn't come, because Shell - who you may remember as the bossy, overbearing wife of his friend - had her birthday on the same day, and was demanding attendance at her party in Macclesfield. Which, apparently, was utter crap - it would seem that no-one turned up, and it was just 5 of them sitting there drinking while she demanded everyone worshipped her new handbag. Fun times! We had invited him along to the family do, but he couldn't get out of Shell's do, more the pity. It sounded horrific.

The rest of the weekend was as normal - boring and full of work. Still, it pays the bills!

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Current Mood: tired

Current Music: "It's not unusual" - Tom Jones

Birthday festivities

2009-09-04T14:55:00.001-07:00

Dear Diary,

HALLELUJAH!!! Sound out the bells of England and do a dance of high-spirited celebration - for I have finally - FINALLY - done the unthinkable....... organised AND PULLED OFF an entire event!!!

Should you not be able to tell, I am talking about Joe's birthday. Oh my sweet potatoes, what a fine day it was! And not just the actual celebration bit either, just.... EVERYTHING. Festivities began at half 10, which found me in town getting my hair done by the only non-chatty hairdresser in the WORLD. Desperately asked his opinion on everything, from X Factor to Haircare, only to be answered with short sentences and long silences. Awkward as arse. It actually took till my hair was almost semi-straight for him to open up and start singing and chatting..... well, to his colleague, mostly. Oh well. Anything's more comfortable than getting your hair done in silence. My hair looked fantastic in the end, all sleek, straight, fine and shiny - I was strutting down the street like a BeeGee. Or more accurately, a woman from those L'Oreal glossy hair ads.

Dropped into the supermarket on the way home to get a cake - I'd long decided against the visit-him-at-work-bearing-a-mini-cake idea..... there were too many votes against from my panel of judges (friends and family), and he was only getting 15 minutes for lunch that particular day anyway. WAY too much hassle. So I decided on getting a small birthday cake, and somehow surprising him with it once we got back to his (alarmingly difficult - see later). Ended up getting a small yellow one with a cute cartoon character with a football. Bit overboard on the footie theme, I know, but the only other ones he'd like (Stig from Top Gear and Hannah Montana...... yes, seriously) were in the £10 region. Fuck that! Was in such a joyous, organised mood afterwards, I treated myself to a Subway and practically floated home (on a bus).

The rest of the day was a blur, basically dossing around, spreading out all my pampering and getting ready. Decided on the black and white Dorothy Perkins dress (purchased 3 entries ago) with the bag and matching pink accessories, killer boots, and pink lipstick. The birthday boy eventually arrived, having a fuss being made over him and presents presented (but didn't open). And we were off! Sadly, due to pelting rain, wasn't able to do the whole; "So, there are 3 restaurants you see in front of you.... which one could have I picked....?" thing, but instead just legged it across the road with my cardie over my head shouting: "It's that one! THAT ONE!!!"

Well, what can I say..... Posh Indian has outdone itself, as always. Well, I say "always," I went there ONCE with Marie. But still, gorgeous romantic lighting, really lovely waiters, incredible food. Was terrified the meal would go over a certain amount and I'd be left without enough for the Tubing on Thursday, but managed to stay calm and order one course only and one glass of Rose. Strangely enough, Joe seemed more nervous then me, figeting a lot and being weirder than usual. When asked why, his answer was adorable: "I'm not used to someone paying for me and taking ME out.... it's such a weird feeling!!" Anyway, the meal was DIVINE and went completely without a hitch. Well, until the point where I was a complete spanner and mentioned the mini-cake idea. His response?

Him: "Oh my god, that's so sweet! You were really gonna do that for me?"
Me: "Yeah! Oh, I'm sorry I didn't, now! I thought you'd think it was corny....."
Him: "Not at all! Tell you what - on the way home let's stop off at Tesco's and buy a cake!"
Me: "Yeah..... wait, WHAT?!"
Him: "Well, you've got me in the mood for one now! And it's my birthday, so why the hell not?"
Me: (*remembering recently purchased cake currently hiding in bottom of suitcase*) "Er...... MAYBE...... or we COULD just..... I don't know, I mean..... I'd rather just go straight back to yours......"
Him: "OK, well we'll just make it really quick, run in, grab a cake and go home!"
Me: (*increasing despair*) "Ummmm..... yeah OK..... let's just see what happens, eh.....?"
Him: "Like what? I'm excited now, you've made me want cake!"
Me: (*slightly panicked laughter*) "Oh look! My korma!"

Thankfully our courses arrived before any further mention. I nearly mounted the waiter, I was that relieved to see him.

Managed to steer Joe away from Tesco, claiming I wanted to just get home and see him open his presents. Christ knows why he bought it, but he did. Cue more problems back at his, in the kitchen. He was loading the washing machine while I desperately tried to subtly open cutlery drawers and remove a knife - under the guise of pretending to stretch, or interested-ly examining knives next to the sink. To no avail. I nearly died laughing, the whole thing was like some kinda Charlie Chaplin farce, or similar. In his bedroom, I told him to shut his eyes while I removed the (slightly battered) cake from my suitcase and fumbled around for the cute little champagne bottle-shaped candle Mum had given me. Guess what? I'd lost it. And that is how, for his birthday, Joe came to be blowing out a tea-light, nicked from his own mantlepiece and hastily pushed into the top of a cake. After he'd stopped laughing hysterically, that is.

Afterwards he opened his presents as we munched on birthday cake and Cava, mmmmm.... The good news is, he LOVED them. The bad news is, I did my usual trick of doing a running commentary, explaining each present, instead of just letting him figure it out. The slightly weird news is, Mum got him a card and present! I was just as confused as Joe was, although he was incredibly pleased. And to be honest, so was I - she'd got him a mini bottle of Davidoff aftershave. Have you SMELT that stuff? It is sex in a bottle. I was like; "Seriously.... you'd better wear this EVERY DAY!" Mmmmmm...... Davidoff.....

Afterwards we ended up having a what-could-have-been-sexy-but-quickly-became-very-alarming cocktail of fruity lubricants, baby oil and some Chocolate body paint from Ann Summers that Alice had thoughtfully given me. Holy mother of god -it is the stickiest substance in all known creation. In the end, we basically had to get everything over with as quickly as possible, in order to leg it to the bathroom and scrub resiliant sticky brown stuff off ourselves. Embarrassing! But funny.

Thursday was fantastic. One of Joe's presents the previous night had included a gothically written (well, typed-out) mission statement, saying: "At 12:15pm you will get in your car, enter this postcode into your SatNav and drive us there, for a birthday extravaganza. Wear a hoodie and bring some gloves." So after a celebratory Subway, we were off. Sadly, his SatNav was broken, so the surprise was kinda ruined by me basically telling him what to head for. Surprisingly, he didn't get where he were headed until we were literally outside. But it was SO EXCITING!!! I need to go more often.

The Tubing was brilliant and SO much fun - especially since I was practically a trained veteran. Trouble is, despite it being a Tursday afternoon when EVERY school should have gone back - there were about 18 kids joining us. Fun times! Very hard to race each other down a slope when the instructor is desperately trying to prise off a 5 year-old clinging to your tubing ring as the parents stand idly by in the background...... At one point, I had to actually tell a little lad to stop eating the dirty snow, while his mum chatted to someone else behind me. What a great country we live in, eh?

Anyway, after an impromptu snow fight, we trudged off for ice-creams and a little explore before heading back to his. Which, sadly, took about 143 years (well, an hour and half) on the motorway, due to insane traffic. So, we only had about half an hour to get in and dump our stuff before very irate-ly heading off to deaf class. Which was fun, incidentally - just preparing for our second exam next week. I got up at the end to volunteer doing a 5-minute exam practise with the teacher, and she said she hopes I do it EXACTLY like that in the exam, it was that good! YESSS!!! (OK, I totally sound like I'm 5 now, but y'know......) You can choose out of 3 topics, so I've chosen "Pets." I now have 2 guinea pigs and can tell you EVERYTHING about them. EVERYTHING. Just ask me.

Was very lovely afterwards, going back to Joe's like it was our own place (I know.... getting carried away.....). I think the other class members have clocked on about us by now, given that we always sit next to each other and always leave together. Ah well, I'm not particularly fussed. Joe said he didn't mind, he just didn't want them talking about ME. But if the thing being discussed is something that's making happier than you've felt in a long time, is it a bad thing??

Having said that, wasn't feeling so happy that night, when, just as I was revealing all the incredibly saucy and varied things I had planned that we DIDN'T do on his actual birthday, he claimed he was "too tired" and wanted to go to bed. DESPITE the veritable FEAST of sexuality I was planning on partaking in. Naturally I felt a bit (well, a lot) hurt, and tried to change his mind, at which he told me I shouldn't "pester him like this" because he feels like he's disappointing me. Wow. Ouch. So that's it, I'm officially a Sex Pest.

Given that I was all repressed for 21 years this HARDLY surprises me, but please - we are led to believe that men are the red-blooded penis-carrying sex-wanting MEN types....... and it turns out it's us women who are "at fault." Nature has gone wrong somewhere, and I have long conversations with similarly-minded female friends to back me up. It seems to be women these days who want sex more, and the men who've become the "not tonight dear, I'm too tired" types. Hang on, this all seems familiar. Wasn't I having this debate with David, months ago? Who knows? Who even cares. Did I tell you he's deleted me as a friend on Facebook? HA! Good fucking riddance.

As I was saying, something has been switched around. Either that, or I truly am "sex-obsessed". Scuse the hell out of me for being led to believe that this was a GOOD thing. But for fuck's sake, I only see Joe in THAT capacity at the weekends.... and even then we only have sex once.... or maybe twice. And then obviously we can't count the weeks where "Aunt Irma" visits. So what you're talking about here is sex, with my boyfriend, at the most, 6 times a month. FUCKING BLOODY HELLFIRE!!!! I never looked at it like that! How have I even SURVIVED??!

And what sucks is that like Aaron, he is similar in one respect - they will prioritise work and most other "important" things over sex. If I was to pop up over at his and surprise him one night, I can imagine he would easily refuse, on the grounds that he has work tomorrow. Which is fair enough (kind of). But the night after his birthday, when he wasn't even IN work the next day??! That stung. I mean, really. Rejection physically hurts sometimes. And as much as I'm really really into him, I sometimes wonder what it would be like to have the same boyfriend, but one who wants it whenever I do (or even spontaneously throws me on the bed or up against a wall sometime), would always follow a kiss through to the natural conclusion (without worrying about timing or consequences), or follow up my initiation of sleepy middle-of-the-night sex, instead of turning away and sleeping with a pillow over his head ("because it helps him sleep").

Sometimes I wonder if he's as into me as he says he is. I can never seem to keep my hands off him, whereas he totally different, and will only do it in private. We've established that this is not just "about the sex," but still..... I do wonder sometimes whether it's just my boobs that are the pull.... Ah well, fuck it. I can't be bothered thinking about it, I'll get more depressed. Maybe I should try a different approach - just keep my hands to myself and never initiate or start any kiss/sex first..... and see how long it takes HIM to do it instead! Sumat to think about, anyway........

Today wasn't too bad - we went to town intending to buy a never-blow-out candle for his grandad's grave, but didn't get on too well. Not to mention I was feeling AWFUL for some reason, and was meant to be attending a friend's leaving do this evening. In the end I didn't, opting to fall asleep in agony on the sofa once I got home (Joe's out with mates tonight). Feel so ashamed and awful, but truth be told I only had a fiver to my name, and no way of scrounging money to go out on, as the whole family are out themselves. Grrrrr....

Oh well, apart from that - a wonderful birthday week! Made so much better by constant texts of "I can't believe you went to all that trouble for me..... I'm so flattered.....thank you so much..... you'll be blown away when it's your turn!" coming from an increasingly tipsy (but merry) Joe. Never has doing something good for someone else's benefit felt so fantastic - Robin Hood is starting to make SO much more sense to me now!

Current Mood: ill but elated
Current Music: "Heart of glass" - Blondie

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Birthday countdown

2009-09-01T16:27:00.000-07:00

Dear Diary,

OH MAN!!! I am SO excited I can hardly sit still. My plans are finalised - everything has arrived and been wrapped, the table is booked, the Tubing (after an extensive series of cock-ups...... bloody Internet) is booked, my hair appointment is booked, the dress is ironed, and the Moonpig card looks incredible. I stuck a picture of the ComparetheMeerkat.com meerkat inside, with a speech bubble saying a Russian-sounding birthday speech. I know, I'm so ridiculous it's untrue, but I LOVE that advert, and am always talking to Joe in an over-the-top Aleksandr the Meerkat voice..... so hopefully he'll find it funny.

I'm truly so excited about this. Hopefully he'll love it, but damn, I wish tomorrow would come quicker, this is like waiting for Christmas. And whilst I always got the saying, I can now truly understand the whole "tis better to give than receive" thing. This is gonna be GREAT.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Return to the Pool

2009-08-31T10:48:00.001-07:00

Dear Diary,

The good news is, Joe was fine. A little stern talking-to and he was promising to call me next time he was annoyed.... at the VERY least so I could go and get drunk with him! Still, it's not as if I've never drunk alone before (*winces at memory*). The anniversary of being dumped + Vodka + "Jamie Saves our bacon" = bad times. On the plus side, this week has been RAMMED with shifts - I literally worked every day except Monday and Friday. And even then, I worked Friday (just not at the pub). I'm gonna be LOADED!!

So, where were we? Ah yes, Friday. Started off strangely well, despite being asked to work a day shift at Mum's shop. I've discovered the secret to early morning starts (ie: arriving and being READY to work at 7-frigging-30) simply take ProPlus!Why the HELL did I never think of that before? By the time we arrived I was bouncing around happily and working harder than ever all morning - it usually takes till my 1st break to wake up! (Well, sausage and egg butty does tend to help....) Legged it to Lidl on the way home for a cheap bottle of wine and made preparations to jump a train to Liverpool.

Kyle had moved into a new flat and was throwing an illustrous flat-warming party. Fuck me, if he'd moved into Buckingham PALACE, I wouldn't have been quite so impressed. It was a goddamn PIMP-flat - concierge and all. Was quite embarrassing when I failed to recognise his flatmate, but soon got into the swing of things and before I knew it - I'd drank a bottle of wine within 45 minutes and Kyle and I were out on the balcony catching up on old times. Not to mention he told me something EXPLOSIVE he did a few days ago. I'm taking it to the grave, I'm afraid, but sadly, it seems like he and his boyfriend are on the way out.....

The party was soon getting a bit mental - well, when I say that I mean more people arrived, and soon I was stood on my own in a bedroom, drunkenly calling Joe and telling him I was "so into him" (Man, I'm classy). Luckily he enthusiastically returned the statement, and soon it became a 50-minute long conversation out on Kyle's flatmate's balcony (I know, I know, if I was anyone else I'd make myself sick). Rang him again later on the main balcony, only to have my phone snatched away by some shrieking blonde girls ("Ohmigod - Is this Kat's boyfriend??!") I'd never met before..... before spending a further 10 minutes locked in the loo moaning about drama students and how I love them and are part of their world..... but at the same time mostly despise some of them and how superficial and vaucous the whole thing is. I'm such a traitor! But truthfully, after 2 hours, doing the whole shrieking "Oh HIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII - how are YOU???!! Haven't seen you in AAAAAAAAAAAGES, what you UP TO????!!" (*hug hug hug*) thing with people you never even really hung out with can get incredibly wearing......

Anyway, it was mostly a good night. We traipsed off to Heebies, drunk before we even left the flat. I spent all night chatting to some random 1st year lad, who seemed wise beyond his wee years and claimed to know EVERYTHING about women. Bless him. Actually, who knows? Maybe he does. Anyway, we pretty much hung out all night, cynically commenting on everything and doing weird dance moves to songs we knew. Kyle buggered off to be dramatic and sullen somewhere just before "Billie Jean" came on, so I was left to dance on my own with a load of ex-peers. It's amazing how alone you can sometimes feel when you're surrounded with people.....

Thankfully, we soon called it a night and ran back to Kyle's (after me and 1st Year legged it to a takeaway). All I remember about the rest of the evening was chatting to 1st year whilst standing on the balcony, listening to Kyle's flatmate play songs on his guitar. Cue me: belting out an impassioned and outstandingly loud rendition of Backstreet Boy's "I want it that way" out over the massive complex (collection of appartments, whatever you call it).

After a brief discussion/fight over "who's sleeping where," Kyle chose me to accompany him in bed. Well, to be fair - at the end of the night he'd been getting all upset in his room (over his boyfriend troubles), and being comforted by several party guests - including his ex. So chances are likely, he picked me as the only one who probably wasn't going to be a bit TOO comforting (ie: try and sleep with him). Fair dos.

The next morning felt like Death. I woke up to a chirpy "Is someone hungover?" text off Joe and a snoring Kyle - who, I''m embarrassed to say, I nearly went to spoon, before realising that I wasn't, in fact, in bed with Joe. Took about 5 years for everyone to wake up (I sat outside and rang Joe from the balcony again) but we eventually shuffled out for a hangover breakfast - mercilessly piss-taking George for kissing someone a bit too noisily on the sofa, about a foot away from an alarmed 1st Year, and discussing what would be the freakiest, most alarming thing you could do/say when getting in a lift with a stranger. Put it this way - I can't remember the last time I CRIED laughing.

After having a weird "Let's get back to mine for a nap" session at Kyle's (which we couldn't do because we were all still laughing too hard) I decided to flee.... work was calling, sadly. Evening shift though, which was rare for me to get on a Saturday! Got home, did my shift, ground down, eventually getting picked up by Joe, who was originally meeting me Sunday instead. But after it turned out (through a series of texts) that he was out of the house with his car, we decided it'd be more fun to go straight back to his. So he came to pick me up at midnight, and damn - after a hard shift, my heart did sort of flutter when he walked in.......

Sunday was pretty great. We hung out all day, he dropped me off at my shift in the afternoon, and in the evening we went to Chiquito's and watched "The Final Destination" in 3D, which was UNBELIEVABLE, and kicked the shit out of Harry Potter 6, as it was 3D all the way through. And DAMN, seeing all that gore in 3D is pretty shocking. But it was a fantastic film, despite blatantly being an unnessary addition to the trilogy.

Was kinda wonderful having a 3-day weekend with him.... almost making up for the missing Friday. It's pretty sweet actually - today's Bank Holiday, which meant he was off, obviously. But then he's got Thursday and Friday booked off for his birthday - so technically, he's only in work 2 days this week! Good times.

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Current Mood: tired but peaceful

Current Music: "Remedy" - Little Boots

Shopping! Shopping! Shopping!

2009-08-27T03:16:00.001-07:00

Dear Diary,

Yesterday was fantastic. I'd forgotten just how thrilling and utterly satisfying it feels to go shopping with hard-earned wages - especially those that total above £25 a week.

Yesterday I bought:

Face cleanser
The sexiest, roomiest, softest black clutchbag ever (see here)
Grey hippie t-shirt (see here)
Pink and black big chunky sexy bracelet (£7.50 but totally worth it)
Fucking HOT underwear set from Marks and Sparks sale (see here)
Black and white striped dress with pink belt - very flattering, right length, right shape, not to mention low cut.....

Met K for lunch as well, and returned home completely exhausted. Like, so exhausted I nearly collapsed in Alice's car, despite being sat down. Still, a munch on some Millie Cookies, a short nap, a shower, and some Paracetemol later, I was more than ready for work, which was boring as usual. Terrible tips. Still, had a good day, despite no word from Joe AT ALL. He rang while I was with Alice, I told him I'd speak to him later, and I didn't hear from him all day, despite several texts, 2 calls and a voicemail.

Naturally I was torn between annoyance, worry that he was annoyed at me and terror that he'd been hit by a bus - but after a prompting text from me this morning, it transpired that he was madly hungover. Ah alcohol - the truth is in there!
Sadly not in a celebratory or fun way - apparently work was so hellish yesterday that he went out to get a drink after work and simply didn't stop....... until he was found sleeping in a bus station by the police. Simply couldn't believe it - if anything because he hasn't been drunk in 3 years (apart from our 1st date). Wish he'd called me if things were that terrible, but his phone was on silent, it would seem. Oh dear.

On the bright side, Posh Indian is booked and the Kitten toy arrived today. More stages confirmed!

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Current Mood: complacent
Current Music: "Ugly Betty" theme

My most elaborate plan......

2009-08-26T03:21:00.001-07:00

Dear Diary,

The other day, Joe was telling me about how shit his last birthday was. He had a joint celebration with Phil's wife, so they compromised by choosing a bar each to go in. In every one of Joe's bars, she sat with a face on her all the way through, until he questioned her, she kicked off, and his mate had a go at him. So I am DETERMINED to make this birthday fantastic. And this is how......

Things I have planned for Joe's birthday:

Moonpig card - Have you BEEN on this website? It's INCREDIBLE!!! You can personalise your cards and write whatever you want, as if it's part of the design! Have designed my first ever Moonpig card as a Sports newspaper, featuring an article about Joe as voted "World's best football player" with interviews for Fergie and his "WAG" Kat. Amazing....

Mini cake - Opinion is divided on this subject. See, my cunning plan is to go to his place of work and surprise him when he leaves for lunch. But EVEN BETTER - I will be carrying one of those small Mini cakes with a candle on top, which I will sneakily light, and approach him with, singing "Happy Birthday!" The problem is, I love this plan, but everyone else seems to find it awful. And I'm worried about the hazards of a naked flame (however small) in a station. Hmmm..... One to think on, anyway.

Mock the Week DVD - Joe LOVES this show. Everytime I go round we usually end up sticking it on for a while, and laughing our white arses off - and this one has all the "Too hot for TV" stuff on it.

Men Commandments Book - I already own this book, but having read it approximately 8900 times, I've come to the conclusion that every man should own one. At the very least for it's hilarity, at the most for Christian O'Connell's genius insight into what it means to be a man. Thankfully, Joe is a reader, and also a man.

Black kitten cuddly toy - Combination of 2 things, really - Joe never had a cuddly toy when he was younger, and the recent loss of his black kitten (Stevie) back in Czech hit him hard. Not to mention not being allowed to adopt one from the sanctuary. This is a small consolation. And as consolations go, this one is damn cute.

Posh Indian - For something to do on his actual birthday evening, I racked my brain for literally seconds before coming up with the perfect solution - a place that combines one of his (and my) favourite meals with elegant dining, stunning lighting and reasonable menus. Not to mention kick-ass wine. Yes folks, I'm booking a meal at our local Posh Indian.

Tubing - As you may know from when I went with Lisa a while back, this is simply outstanding. Considering that all you're doing is sitting in a ring and sliding down a snowy slope for 45 minutes, you'd imagine it would get boring. But it doesn't. It's fun, breathless, exciting, and addictive as all hell. Not to mention ice cream places, incredible views from the bars/cafes, helmets like make you look "special" and the oppurtunities for snow-fights. I remember saying ages ago it would probably make the perfect place for a first date/birthday. Who knew I was prophesising??

In some weird twist, I have somehow become all organised. It's like the meditteranean meal all over again - I literally drew up a plan, with cost, dispatch/order date, delivery date of each item, etc..... So far, only the DVD has arrived, but hey - it's a start! Ah, Amazon. So beautifully efficient.

Is that too much, do you reckon? I worked it out, and overall I'll be spending something close to £100 on it all. Shaun went mental when he found out, saying I'm hard up for money as it is and I shouldn't blow it all at once - but fuck it, I've had shit-loads of extra shifts recently, and it's nice to have a legitimate reason to spend my money (other than pints and Subways). Not to mention AFTER Joe's birthday I'll be getting paid £125 from the pub, thanks to having shifts EVERY night this week. Seriously - I only have Monday and Friday off this week. In keeping with my new organisation and money-managing, I'm also putting all my Tips from this week's shifts into a moneybox - which is going towards getting my hair done the night before the meal..... fingers crossed I make that much! I'm on £5 so far, anyway - and I'm only looking for a Wash and Straighten.

September this year, for me, is UNFEASIBLY busy. On top of all these extra shifts, there's Kyle's flatwarming in Liverpool, Joe's birthday, Auntie's birthday, Melanie's leaving do (no idea where or why she's leaving, but this shall be found out on the night, presumably) the last two Sign Language exams of Level 1, Alice's birthday, Shaun's birthday, the list goes on. Dear me, all those New Year conceptions making trouble for me, so selfish......!

Got to go, anyway. Alice is coming round in a bit, were off to the Trafford Centre (I'm gonna know it better than my own bedroom at this rate.....!)

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Current Mood: excited
Current Music: "Friday Night" - Lily Allen

Events and Confessions

2009-08-25T02:17:00.001-07:00

Dear Diary,

The good news is, I'm feeling a lot more like my old self, since last Thursday. It would seem the combination of good friends (see comments), Joe, and the discovery of a bag full of earrings from the "80's jewellery" phase I went through at college is a tonic that would cheer ANYONE up. And all I can say in response to the comments is: Thank You. It seems such a meagre thing to say without fully conveying the depths of my gratitude that you haven't backed away in awkwardness, so really - thanks.

Thursday was both brilliant and awful. Had a nice quiet shift at the pub, during which Lisa came to visit and help me out (telling me when there was someone in the Vault that needed serving), much to the Landlady's sheer irritation; "You're here to WORK, not get distracted!" Grr... And then, just as Last Orders were approaching, who should walk through the door, but MARIE!! Who I haven't seen for 3 months!! Naturally we were all huggy and squealy as I poured her some Wickeds and set about catching up. She suggested a night out on the town - in a voice that betrayed clearly 2 bottles of wine that had previously been drank.

But fuck it, we were off! Got back to mine for a speedy costume-change, and then we were off! Off for our wonderful girly night out! In theory, anyway. Can't be rammed explaining, or thinking anymore about the night in question, so I'll break it down for you:

Bumped into Marie's boyfriend in 2nd bar - with friend
Friend and I got on well
All went back to Friend's house with booze from Tesco
Friend cornered me upstairs while Marie and Boyfriend had a "talk" (ominous....)
Friend stuck on "Saw 4" and reclined on bed, while I sat scrunched in a tight ball on the edge
Friend kept hitting on me, I repeatedly said no, and eventually stormed out.

It would seem that despite frequent mentions of Joe (God bless Marie) - nothing will stop a man trying to get what he wants. He kept holding onto my hand and trying to kiss me, clearly thinking that 3 months "isn't that long" to be with someone, and that somehow made it alright. The cock-end. What makes me feel sick though, is that 6 months ago, I would've done it. It would've been the exact same scenario, scruffy house, messy bedroom, with a lad who not only smoked, but I wasn't even that keen on...... and I still would've had sex with him. All that had changed was that I now had Joe. And it made me sick to think that that was the kind of person I used to be. It shouldn't be the recent acquistion of a partner stopping me, I shouldn't want to in the first place! I should have aimed a little higher than a skanky bedroom with a stranger, and it angers me that I used to do that. Fucking hell. Funny anecdotes they may have produced, but surely that isn't worth the horribleness, no matter how much I defended myself at the time. Denial can be an ugly bitch.

After running into the bathroom to discover a mid-pee Marie, I rang a taxi and asked her to cover me to the front door. Aided by the Friend's blatant male-ego-wound shouting: "Fine, fucking get out my house, the door's that way!" I stormed out and jumped a taxi to Joe's, ringing him on the way. I know, I'm awful - it was 3am and he had work the next day, but he was nearer to me than my house, and I wanted nothing more than to see him. He looked adorable in his tshirt and shorts, all sleep-befuddled, but before I could even think about this, I'd burst into tears on his shoulder. He let me get the whole drunken mess out ("Even holding hands felt like cheating, because YOU'RE the only person I hold hands with!"), looking increasingly angry at every mention of the Friend, even though, as I pointed out, the Friend hadn't TECHNICALLY done anything that warranted a kicking.

Eventually crawled into bed, a sniffling, smudged-make-up heap of hair and Southern Comfort, clinging onto Joe for dear life - who, by the time we finished talking, was supposed to be up for work in an hour. He rang in sick the next day.

Friday - was pretty nice. Woke up trying to keep the marks on my thigh hidden and apologising like crazy for making Joe miss work, but he assured me it was all fine, and lent me a hoodie and some trainers to wear home - I left my top and heels behind. He took me for a Subway breakfast (to cheer me up) and tried to get details out of me about the Friend, but I refused - he technically didn't do anything that bad, it's not as if he spiked me, or even shut the bedroom door. I just wanted to forget it by that point, and focus on removing my Hangover Hat.

Got home so late I didn't even have time to change - but at least I was in time to meet Lisa, who was driving us to the Trafford Centre for lunch with K. We had a good laugh, imagining Lisa's enforced "Team Building" (shudder) fortnight up in Scotland and munching pizzas - didn't go shopping afterwards, which I was secretly pleased about..... my hangover was raging.

The evening was lovely. Joe had finally found a copy of "Event Horizon" which he got very excited about, so we stuck it on and got stuck into our pizza. Sadly, despite the whole tube of Savlon I'd slapped on, he inevitably noticed the blatant web of marks on my thigh - which led to a quickly concocted story about getting ripped on branches when we walked through the graveyard. Well, we were about to have sex, and I may be no expert, but the truth sorta struck me as a bit of a mood-killer.
Afterwards, we were sat next to each other, and I caught him looking down at my leg with a strange expression. Turned out, he thought it looked like someone had "hit me" (who would hit a THIGH??!) so I knew I'd have to tell the truth before he jumped to the wrong conclusion. To be fair, I didn't break down crying, I just calmly told him, explained the circumstances, and swore it wouldn't happen again. He then told me he could understand, he wasn't going to leave me and he wasn't freaked out. Why? Because he'd done it.

Apparently it was a long long time ago, and arguably, his reasons were more "legit" than mine. But he'd even found a website that shows how to do it properly, and had to see a therapist as a result. Somehow, I wasn't freaked out either. We just sat there for ages, hugging each other and silently acknowledging how scary Life can be sometimes.

Saturday - wasn't too bad. Joe had another football match, so dropped me off early so he could go train. Had a shift at 4, which was pretty good, especially since Joe picked me up at the end - there's nothing so awesome as seeing everyone shut the hell up when he walks in. I have my own ginger bouncer! Stayed for a drink and 2 games of Pool after (surprise surprise, I was mercilessly thrashed) before heading off for tea. We ended up in the local Thai lounge, which neither of us had tried, but was fecking GORGEOUS. Seriously. Although the changing lighting left us very disorientated; "Was my meal ALWAYS orange??!"

Afterwards, on a Thai high, we drove back to his for a "Mock the Week" and Jimmy Carr-fest.... rolling around and laughing helplessly. Oh, and I mastered 3 new positions. YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!!! To his credit, the thigh-marks didn't seem to faze him. Although the lights WERE off......

Sunday - Not much to say, really. We stayed in bed all morning, had breakfast out. Although we DID go visit Joe's Grandad's grave, which was especially nice. And especially awkward - his dad didn't want to talk about it, and so the only directions to the gravestone we had were "Near a chapel and a tree." Which, as you can imagine, was handy in a graveyard the size of Neverland. Anyway, after half an hour of traipsing we eventually found it, and stayed for quite a while, Joe telling me family history. It was sweet, to be honest.

After that, he took me home. Mum and Dad were out, so we sat and watched "Southpark" for a bit before he whisked me off to work, which wasn't so bad, and went quite quickly. Mum and Dad were STILL out upon returning, so I cracked open my Rose' wine (bought but not drunk on Friday night) defrosted a pizza (all we had in for tea that didn't require making) and snuggled down in front of "School of Rock." Perfect.

Monday - was full of nothing, apart from one quite big event...... Alice is home!! So to celebrate, we went to see her mate's band play at a student pub in town, which was coooooooooool. The singer was completely drowned out, but all in all they sounded great - and it was awesome seeing Alice and Neil again. Sometimes you forget the simple pleasure in just going out with an old friend for a few drinks. Good times!

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Current Mood: ambivalent
Current Music: "She-wolf" - Shakira. Awoooooooo!!

The day I went all Emo

2009-08-20T09:03:00.000-07:00

Dear Diary,

I'm wondering whether to describe the latest weirdness in my life in a lighthearted jokey way, or in complete seriousness. The LAST thing I want to do is go all Emo-tastic and start writing poems about "pain" or "blackness" or whatever, but I feel that what I did on Wednesday might have stretched the boundaries of my alarming-ness. Or maybe I'm just being overdramatic about an insignificant thing, who knows? But before that:

On Tuesday I went out with Lisa again. Where did I take her? The same pub as Monday night. Never let it be said that I am not unimaginative..... But it was good fun, and the food was AMAZING. Afterwards we scoured the cheese shop, discussed babies/birth control (always a good debate!) and had a lovely walk home. She's off to start her big scary adult Life (and job) living with Mike in London on Saturday, and whilst it all sounds quite adult and scary, there's a part of me that really wishes I had my life in that much control. Oh well, there's time!

Sadly, not something that crossed my mind on Wednesday. I've been in 2 (or 16) minds as to whether I should write about this, for fear of sounding like a pathetic head-case or a big attention seeker. But fuck it - it's my blog, this is the perfect place for such outpourings, surely.

I guess all that springs to mind right now is something Lisa said to me about 6 months ago: "Getting a boyfriend doesn't necessarily cure all your problems and suddenly make you happy." And now I totally get what she meant. At the time I thought she was barmy, because all I could think was; "If you have a boyfriend, it means you have someone to hold you and cheer you up when you're sad, and calm you down when you're mad. And at the very least, if you're angry about something, you can always nip over and blow off some steam with him!"
But I completely see where she's coming from. It doesn't necessarily mean you are happy with everything all of a sudden. Granted, I'm a LOT happier than I was 6 months ago. But there's still a lot to be depressed about, that has nothing to do with Joe.

Off the top of my head, there's:

Not having a career yet
Everyone telling me this
Not even having a proper job
Still not being spoken to by 3 best friends in Liverpool, as a result of a stupid mistake
Almost everyone I know having their lives on track and knowing what they'll do
Living at home, which links to:
Mum and Dad argueing, Mum constantly nagging me and making me feel like a shitheap
Being scared to tell Joe ANY of this, for fear of him being freaked out and leaving me
Being stuck in the house all day
Mum constantly pointing out my weight

........ and more besides.

Anyway, on Wednesday, all of this eventually culminated. I had a feeling it would at some point - my only fear was that I'd either physically explode, develop a tumour, or take to the roof with a high powered sniper rifle. Luckily I did none of those things - not that what I did was any better, really. There's no way to dress it up nicely, so I might as well just say it: I harmed myself. Only slightly though. And NOT with any instruments or blood drawing, I must point out. Just my nails, on my thigh. Now I put it like that, it sounds kind of ridiculous, but fuck it - I'd rather scratch than actually cut myself, which I would NEVER do. I'm shit-scared of blood, to begin with.

Basically, I'd been talking to Mum. I'd rung uni to see if I could attend next year's Graduation ceremony, seeing as I missed my own. In a nutshell - I can't. You are only allowed to attend your own year's and that's it. Because of my extreme stupidity, I'd missed my chance. And the worst part (as you may have guessed) was having to tell Mum. I think if she'd whipped me stark bollock naked down the street, it would have been less painful and awful than this. I got the whole speech about how I was "the first in the family to go to university" etc... etc... Even when I pointed out that she'd be sitting in a hall for 4 hours just to see me get handed a scroll, she still didn't care. Then of course, I got all upset and "So never mind that I went to uni and got a degree, I guess you're not proud of me because I didn't officially go to the ceremony??" etc... etc... before running upstairs to sob, with my face pressed against my bedroom wall.

And that was it - once I started crying, I just couldn't stop. Everything just pressed down on my head, becoming real and terrible. And whilst I tried to remind myself about people starving, death in Iraq and homeless people, I still couldn't shake off the awful feeling of absolute desperation. Crikey, I sound like I'm writing a novel or something..... Anyway, I had a shower and started getting ready for work, but still felt like utter shit, and even AFTER the shower, I started crying again. And that's when I went to town on my thigh. It seemed to make sense, even though I knew it totally didn't. Oh, I don't know. I didn't really think about what I was doing.

Went to work with it hidden under my jeans, feeling it pulse and glow every now and then whenever I brushed against anything or walked around. It felt like carrying a weird secret - but a guilty one, not a nice, adrenaline-giving thing, or whatever people call it when they actually enjoy it. I didn't enjoy it in the slightest, and whilst I can try to justify it, I still sound like a daft twat - and have felt like one ever since. Having said that, I HAVE stopped thinking about all the other shit - mainly cos I'm appalled at what I've done and have spent every waking moment applying wet flannels and Savlon, in an attempt to hide the marks before I see Joe on Friday. Yes it probably DID release some tension or whatever, but dammit - why didn't I just masturbate instead??!

But no matter how bad things got, I wouldn't do it again. Too much pain and hassle. And I'd most certainly NEVER do it "properly." I'm too much of a wuss for that.

P.S: I'm truly sorry if all this sounds in any way pretentious or attention seeking. It's really not meant to be. But sometimes, it's good to just get things out by talking/writing about them.

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Current Mood: annoyed at myself
Current Music: "Begging" - Madcon

Kat's Landmark Day

2009-08-17T15:49:00.000-07:00

Dear Diary,

Well, you'll be glad to know that I calmed down after my last entry, due - once more to the magical healing powers of the Joe.

Friday night was pretty fantastic, for many reasons. Straying away from the usual Friday-night routine of film and pizza, Joe suggested we went for a walk round the neighbourhood first, which was actually REALLY nice. Given what a lazy sod I am I usually avoid any kind of physical exercise, but this was pretty groovy. I'd forgotten just how lovely a nice relaxing walk on the right evening can be - it was pretty much perfect.... nice and sunny and cool, but not cold enough for a jacket. God, I sound like a frigging weather girl. Anyway, we walked through his local park, admiring the huge pond and looking at the very distant view of the Hilton, while Joe told me little snippets of his area's history.

After that we took a walk through the "posh" side of his neighbourhood, just for a peek at how the other half live. We talked about the kind of houses we both wanted to live in when we were older, and had the traditional old "what I'd do if I won the Lottery" conversation (for the record - I'd buy apartments in Manchester, Liverpool, Ireland, Abersoch and Paris, write and publish my own books, buy shitloads of clothes, DVDs and things, and pay people to hire me as a scriptwriter. And more....)

Afterwards we went for pizza, which we munched in front of "Me myself and Irene," (I know, pizza and film - but I'm a girl of simple pleasures, and so is he. Although, not a girl, obviously....) And after THAT...... I had a very new experience. I'll be frank (isn't that what blogs are for?) - I've never particularly enjoyed oral sex before. Being a fairly impatient creature, I usually can't be bothered to wait any longer than about 5 minutes before I'm like: "Get your white arse back up here and let's move things along!" (And I've read that it takes 20 on average for a woman to reach.... a certain point) But for some reason, Friday night was different. Maybe it was the long walk and all the lovely fresh air, but I just felt so much more relaxed and not bothered about timing. Consequently, not only did I have my first orgasm-induced-by-someone-else (which I'll get onto in a minute) but also my 2nd........ and my 5th.

So not only have I discovered that Joe is good at this, and I like it, but more importantly - someone other than myself and Mr. Rabbit has finally - FINALLY - given me an orgasm. And not just one, but five. To which, all I can say is:

HELL YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!

Do you know how LONG I've been waiting for this day!??? I finally feel like I've achieved something with my life!! And more importantly - now I FINALLY see the appeal. I feel like I could take on the world. Even better - Joe said he likes doing it, which means I can predict I'll be abusing this and getting very greedy from now on. That sounds kinda selfish and wrong, actually. But fuck it, I'm allowed to - BECAUSE I LIKE ORAL SEX!!! (I know, I know - I make NO sense at times.....) And this is why Friday 14th August is a Landmark day in the life of Kat.

Saturday - was pretty awful. First of all, I woke up to find I'd been ambushed - which I was expecting since I'd come off the delay-your-period-for-2-weeks pill, but whilst I was at someone else's HOUSE?! Ultimate nightmare. Fortunately it wasn't noticeable to Joe. Second, I was supposed to be going shopping in the morning with Auntie and Mum , so forced myself to get up and home early. Only to find that Auntie cancelled on us, so I decided the better course of action was to go upstairs and sleep in till 1 in the afternoon. In all fairness, I'd had a late night!

Woke up after a surprisingly undisturbed-by-Mum nap, feeling all groggy and painful. Had lunch and traipsed off to work for another Weekend shift. Whilst I hate that this is digging into my already unlimited time with Joe, at the same time I fucking LOVE Sam for leaving without an explanation - I get all her shifts! WOO!! Anyway, scuttled off to work at 3 for what was surely one of the worst shifts ever. I felt incredibly poorly, dropped a pint of bitter (while everyone laughed and kept telling me I'd "missed a bit" whilst mopping), and pulled a wrong lager, which I had to put to one side.

So what happened when the Landlord came down? He gave me a royal bollocking in front of everyone (including Joe, who'd come to pick me up) for "costing the pub £4" and told me I was "supposed to EARN the pub money, not cost it", and that I shouldn't be making these mistakes after all a year working there. Needless to say, I left the place feeling like a bag of shit - wailing and flailing to Joe and bitching endlessly. Ah well. We went for an Italian in town - I ate spaghetti and meatballs and discovered the best Rose' wine in the world (Pinot Grigio) and by the time we were back at his watching "Hostel," I felt miles better (well, mentally anyway).

Sunday - Woke up feeling a LOT worse - I think the pill affected me more than I thought. Rang Mum up and cried off the re-arranged shopping trip to spend all morning lying on Joe's bed, moaning dramatically, demanding Nurofen and back rubs and reading while he played on the XBox. To his credit, he didn't even tell me to shut the hell up and grow a pair, which I totally would've expected. Eventually mustered up the strength to go to town for a bit, as Joe needed some Xbox/TV cable. Cue a VERY awkward moment outside a nearby jewellers:

Joe: "Hang on, I'll just have a look at the watches...."
Me: "Mmm...... shiny necklaces and bracelets....."
Joe: "OH MY GOD!!! Look how much engagement rings are!"
Me: "Yeah, but probably worth it in the end..... How much would you say is TOO much?"
Joe: "Well, there's one there for 2 grand, I'd say that's pretty steep...."
Me: "Yeah....."
Joe: "Oh well, I'd only stick with a marriage for 25 years anyway and then I'd be off!"
Me: (*gobsmacked face*)
Joe: "I'M KIDDING! No, I'd definately be in it for the long haul."
Me: "Cool......."
(*The most awkward long silence ever observed by man*)
Joe: "So......."
Me: (*randomly singing*) "Begging.... begging yoooooou..... Put your loving hands up, baby!"

How much of a numpty am I??! I encounter an awkward silence and I SING??! Luckily, Joe started awkwardly singing at the EXACT same time, so we both were able to acknowledge the awkwardness and laugh at it.

Soon after a gamefest back at his, Joe dropped me off at home for Sunday lunch (Dad was cooking). On the plus side, he's finally starting to realise I might have a point about Mum getting to be too much - after she told me off for being late. 3 MINUTES LATE.

Me: "Right, I'd best get back in quick, I've already got done for being late"
Joe: "Late? I thought you had to be home for 3!"
Me: "I did."
Joe: (*flabbergasted*) "But..... it's only 3 minutes past.....!"
Me: "I know."
Joe: (*long silence coupled with angry facial expressions*) "Seriously..... you need to move out. I'm not even kidding. I don't know how you cope with that, do you get it every day?"
Me: "Umm...... Pretty much, yeah."
Joe: "Jesus......"

And would you believe it? Tea wasn't even set out till half past.

Had another shift at 4 - during which I was walking on eggshells so badly I practically got foot cramps, but luckily everyone was really nice and reassuring to me. Got quizzed mercilessly about Joe (why are they all so obsessed with the fact that I have a boyfriend now?! Did they think THEY had a chance?!) but worked my white arse off to prove I was a competent barmaid after all. Good times!

Today - had the potential to be utter shite. You'd look at it and think "an entire day hanging out with Mum, an enforced trip to the gym, the whole journey into town spent discussing my 'career options' etc...." But surprisingly, it was that bad. After a smackdown in the Carphone Warehouse (one of those rare occasions where I actually argued with a stranger and stood up for myself) however, I discovered that since the washing machine/mobile phone interface was MY fault, I'm not allowed a replacement handset. So essentially, I have to finish paying out my contract AND get my own handset. Motherfuckers!

Anyway, thanks to a trip to the market, I'm now the proud owner of some black new Ugg boots (not real, obviously) and a new handset - courtesey of Mum (when the home insurance kicks in and I get a proper phone again, I'm selling the new handset and giving Mum the profits). Got dropped off at the gym for a surprisingly-easy-considering-it's-been-three-months-since-I-went workout. Ladies and Gentlemen, I finally discovered endorphins. This has been a feel good weekend!

In the evening, Joe and I went to a nearby pub for some much-needed Sign Language practise (we have ONE lesson between now and our next 2 exams - SHIT!!!) which we ended up ditching after 10 minutes and grabbing some tea instead. Afterwards we went for a long scenic walk through the village and surrounding area - with me acting as a tour guide - and went in a park I haven't entered (or even noticed) since New Year's Eve 1998. The park led us to the church, so on the spur of the moment, I decided to visit Grandad's grave - which was really nice (in that Joe didn't freak out) Felt bad about not having any flowers though, so I de-weeded the gravestone and picked some from the church garden (not too many though - didn't want to risk going to hell!)

Afterwards we went back to the village and sat on a bench, gazing at the fountain and the nearby apartments, discussing the perfect flat, what we'd be happy living with in the future, and what we want out of life (living space-wise) - you know.... deep stuff. It was unbelievably lovely, and despite my twinge of fear about impeding Life and Maturity, I felt so calm and happy, I didn't want to go home.

After he dropped me off, I got a text:

"I really enjoyed tonight - thank you for being you. It's wonderful to be with somebody as great as you"

To reincarnate a phrase from my college days: Fucking DITTO.

P.S: I know, I know. I must sound unbearable. But fuck it, I'm finally happy about something. Took bloody long enough.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Current Mood: peaceful
Current Music: "Music and Me" - Michael Jackson

Return of the Gestapo

2009-08-14T07:44:00.001-07:00

Dear Diary,

Oh joy and happy days. The parents are home. I'm sure you'll guess what I have to say but fuck it - it needs to be said. I WISH THEY'D STAYED THERE.

Alright, not Dad. Maybe just Mum. But SERIOUSLY - there is only so much one person can take and frankly - I'm amazed I've not imploded yet. In a nutshell, yesterday, they returned, brown as chocolate and looking pretty relaxed. But within an hour - AN HOUR - of them arriving home, I'd been questioned and cross-examined on everything from "why I had no money when I've been working all these extra shifts" and "why haven't I cleaned the bath?" to "why I didn't have a job yet" and "exactly what have I done while they were away." I'm talking EVERYTHING.

And the spotlessly tidy house? That I ended up pretty much doing ALL on my own because Shaun decided to piss off to his mates an HOUR before Mum and Dad got home, having only helped me for 10 minutes? Yeah, when it was pointed out to Mum and asked what she thought of my splendid results, was the answer; "Wow! Look at this place, you've done a FANTASTIC job keeping it tidy!" ? No. It was "It's alright..... but why haven't you dusted?"

I swear, people, I was almost weeping as I went to put the kettle on. Sheer unbelievability.

I simply can't fathom it. What sane, rational person goes on a relaxing holiday for 2 weeks - only to return and go into complete hyperactive nagging overdrive within 7 minutes of walking through the front door??

I am furious. Literally furious. I feel like such a bad daughter, hiding out in my room to avoid spending time with her - but I just can't take it. She's been at it again, all day today - I am so fed up of her. I'm actually shaking as I sit here. Right now, the only thing I want is for this evening to come quicker so I can get away for the weekend. Right now, I feel that the only thing that can calm me down is to see Joe - to have him soothe me and tell me it doesn't matter. And I hate that - no matter how I pretend otherwise to his face - I'm so dependant on him.

I feel so crappy and useless right now - maybe it's the impending time of the month, maybe it's just a culmination of things. But at this moment in time, I feel like one of the only things that can make me smile again is seeing Joe. And I hate that - I'd give anything to be my own person, have a job and my own life, without simply waiting to see him again. I hate the idea that I've turned into one of those needy girlfriends I always swore I wouldn't be.

Who knows - maybe I don't really feel like this. Maybe it's just how I'm feeling right now. Either way, it sucks donkey balls. All I know is, (at the risk of sounding like sounding smug and annoying or whatever) if I didn't have Joe in my life at this point, I don't honestly know what I'd have done. Probably shot myself from boredom or misery. And yes that's awfully dark, and no, I wouldn't REALLY have done it. But I'm just glad I've got him to make me smile - because truthfully, I don't want to consider what the alternative would've been.....

Obviously, I'll never tell him this. I'm not a COMPLETE idiot.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Current Mood: depressed
Current Music: "Never never gonna give you up" - Barry White

Crappy Wednesdays

2009-08-12T06:22:00.001-07:00

Dear Diary,

I knew this was happening. I saw it coming. And I've known it was coming from the start. But I am still utterly and MASSIVELY under-prepared for the fact that Mum and Dad are coming home TOMORROW. I can't believe the freedom, which I've become so blissfully used to, will soon be gone. And not only that, but as it stands, Shaun has left me completely in the lurch and ignored my frantic messages to come home and help me tidy up (something Mum SWORE he had to do). So, following a knackering pub shift (darts night), I'm stuck in the house alone, tidying mess that isn't mine.

And on top of all that, yesterday I was the most unbelievable bell-end and accidentally put my phone - MY PHONE - in the washing machine (I'd dropped it onto a waiting pile of clothes and forgotten to pick it up). Having never made such a catastrophic mistake before, I discovered the hard way that:
a) Washing machine doors don't open straight away, despite smacking, wrenching and pleading, and:
b) Mobile phones don't work after being washed, despite smacking, wrenching and pleading.

So, I now also can't text or call anyone. I couldn't before (bill issues, phone cut off - same shit, different month) but somehow this was different - this was like having my arm cut off. I didn't even have access to anybody's numbers and certainly didn't know any off by heart. In a nutshell, I am fucked. Thank god for Facebook, that's all I'm saying.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Current Mood: pissed off and scared
Current Music: "Hate it or love it" - The Game ft. 50 Cent

Happy Mondays

2009-08-10T16:09:00.000-07:00

Dear Diary,

Today was pretty weird. I basically did something I've not done since uni (add it to the list) and stayed in bed all day. Well, alright, maybe not ALL day, but till 4pm. How TERRIBLE is that?? But yeah - basically had my own little bed-party, right there in my parent's sleeping quarters (anyone who's SEEN their bed would never deny me the chance to sleep in it while they're on holiday. It is Heaven in bed form). I also had a Bed-rave with my Ipod and tried an experiment to see if I could Sign the song lyrics (I coudn't..... much). I know, I'm a freak. But have you SEEN those people who stand on the stage at gigs and sign along to the songs?! What a fantastic job!

Since Shaun had deserted me, I basically spent the next 2 hours tidying the house, when lo and behold, Darren popped by, "to check for needles, HAR HAR HAR HAR HAR!!!" (As fucking if, I'm terrified of them) Reluctantly, I let him in, trying to subtly drop hints that I had to get ready to leave soon, as he looked around to make sure there was no evidence of the party variety, watered our plants (it's rained 8 times in the last week) and had a brew which I'd felt the need to offer. Thankfully, his report to Mum (I'm willing to bet my left boob she sent him) would include washing hanging on the line, clean surfaces, pots drying and freshly hoovered floors. HA!!! I'm getting good at this.

After THAT little charade, Joe picked me up and we went for an Italien (the same place I went for lunch with Lisa last week - POSSIBLY forgot to mention, due to octogeneric-induced rage) which was very lovely and felt almost like a proper date. He did look very dashing, it had to be said. We took full advantage of the free bottle of house wine and talked long into the night - watching the world go by outside (disadvantage: the world and it's mother can look in and see you at any point. Kind of weird after a while......)

Afterwards, we walked to Tesco for me to do a necessary big-shop before heading home and packing away. Thank FECK I didn't wear heels!

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

P.S: It would seem Alice is home in a few weeks and up for much entertaining. Awwwwwwwwww YEAH!

Current Mood: relaxed
Current Music: "Signs" - Justin Timberlake ft. Snoop Dogg

Exactly WHY I hate my job (and why I love weekends)

2009-08-09T14:53:00.001-07:00

Dear Diary,

You'll have to excuse my extreme lateness, dear readers. Even my followers (well, all 2 of them!) have noticed how long I take to write one simple blog a day. From now on, it is my mission, no.... my QUEST to write at least once a day - if anything to stop me blowing my brains out from boredom. SO - what have I to catch up on?

Wednesday - had work as usual. For some reason, the "gang" who stand at my end of the bar have been treating me really nastily recently. One of them, "Talking Tim" who likes to think he's a cockney (despite actually being from Salford) actually told me - between "lav's," "blaady's" and "geezer's" that I just "didn't get" the barmaid thing. He said everything goes over my head and I clearly don't get "banter." Someone's very CLEARLY misunderstood - I totally get banter, I just don't want to spend all day talking to these people, because I hate them.

Yes, "hate" is a strong word that gets thrown around too much, but I genuinely hate them. Especially Pat. I've probably mentioned him before, the cynical twat. He's the one who fell out with me after an excellent sex-related comeback (well, he shouldn't give it out if he can't take it). After seeing him silently glaring at me for while, I asked what was wrong.

"Is there a problem, Pat?"
"No no..... just can't believe you're sitting on your arse reading the paper and getting paid for it."
"Well, Pat... I have actually emptied the dishwasher, there's no glasses to collect or put away, no-one wants serving and every surface is clean, so it's not as if I have anything else to do."
(*Pat glares some more and shakes his head*)
"What?"
"Nothing, it's just you do it EVERY week"
(*thinking; "Yes, I do it to piss you off*) "Well, usually cos I've done all my jobs"
"You're just so..... LAZY."
"Yeah, well, always have been. I've told you this before!" (*jokey laugh*)
(*deadpan stare*) "You know what, love? I know what kind of person you are."
"OK......"
"Basically, love, you're gonna fail."
"I'm....... sorry?"
"I can tell, you're just the kind of girl who's not going to make it as a person in life."
(*enraged*) "I'm SORRY??!"
"Well, you're not. People like you sit on their arse, reading the paper, can't be bothered finding a proper job or moving out of your parents'...."
"EXCUSE me - I have been applying for jobs for 6 MONTHS - it is INCREDIBLY difficult to find anything at the moment....... and trust me, I would do ANYTHING to move out."
"Yeah, but you won't. Because that's who you are. Everyone else does the work and you just....."
"Pat, for your information, I've lived away from home for 3 YEARS whilst at uni - and I seemed to survive that. How DARE you say someone won't 'make it' as a person in life??!"
"Yeah, well, you won't."
"Why would you even SAY something so hurtful to someone you hardly know?!"
"Because it's true. I can tell. You're the kind of person who does nothing and then wins the Lottery."
"Oh, fantastic! Let's hope so, eh?"
(*grunts and rolls his eyes*)
"Well, wouldn't YOU like to win the Lottery?"
"Well, yeah, we all would, but...."
"Exactly." (*storms off*)

How fucking DARE he??! HOW DARE HE say something like that to me??! And even if it IS his opinion, why would you SAY something so hurtful and soul-destroying out loud to ANYONE, let alone someone who's been struggling with feelings like that for a while? Who the fuck is HE to decide how my life works out? It may be what he sees as the "truth" - but if I went in there and called him out on being a "fat, balding, bad health, ill-mannered, potty-mouthed, cynical, sex-starved ugly cunt-flap living in a sad bachelor flat alone, with a fucked-up ex-wife situation" I'd probably get in real trouble.

He even felt the need to tell me how at my age he was "married with a kid." Well, fucking bully for him. Scuse the hell out of me for not being stupid enough to get knocked up in my teens, I have plans for my life, and I can tell you right now, they don't involve being pregnant for QUITE a long time yet. But it's the way he threw it out, as if he was so WORTHY and FANTASTIC for achieving parenthood at such a young age. Well, Pat, I can tell you right now, it's NOT the 40's, we don't ALL have kids and get married in our teens, and if you think I am for one SECOND going to take any notice of a bitter old dick with kids by 3 different mothers, you can fucking think again, mate.

Because if there is one thing about that place I'm fucking sick to DEATH of, it's people thinking they are so much better and have practically saved mankind just by having children. I'm sure it's very wonderful and everything, but if one more time, I have to hear the words: "you don't know NOTHING, love, when you've been a parent as long as I have......" Oh, WHOOP-DE-FUCKING-DOO!!! You have kids!! Does that for a SECOND suggest you are better than me? Yes, I don't know the wonders of birth, and yes, you have experienced things I haven't even dreamed of. But that does NOT mean I am any less of a person. I'm 22, for fuck's sake, I'm not SUPPOSED to know stuff like this yet!! And that does not make me worthless. I just wish they'd realise that. I am so fucking SICK of people passing off self-righteousness as some kind of VIRTUE.

Ahem. Rant over. Rang Joe when I got home and wailed down the phone to him about it - which curiously made me feel better.

Thursday - was a hell of a lot better. Deaf class was great as usual, the teacher giving Joe and I knowing looks as we left together. And even better - there was the most staggeringly glorious sunset I've seen in years, and Joe had booked Friday off work. So with joy in our hearts, we headed for the pub, before traipsing back to his for Maccies and Guitar Hero. (Bad news: we've been set our Unit 2 + 3 exams in September. And the teacher is off in the 2 weeks beforehand. I see plenty of revision heading my way!)

Friday - As day's off go - I like to think this was a good one (not that I'd know, every bloody day is a day off for me, grrrrr....). To celebrate, we decided to pop Joe's cherry...... Trafford centre-wise. He'd never been, so I made it my mission to introduce him to the wonders of it all. The best moment was on arrival, where we decided to get lunch straight away before shopping. Taking him through "New Orleans," past the old-school American restaurants, I told him to shut his eyes, and led him to the railing, ("Titanic-style") overlooking the food court. He was a little freaked out (fear of crowds, etc....) but once he opened his eyes, he was stunned. And quite rightly too, what a magnficent view.

One Pizza Hut buffet later, and we were ready to hit the shops. Much to my extreme anger and dismay, the Pink Floyd t-shirt turned out not to fit after all, even when I tried a size up (my god, how much WEIGHT have I put on??). So have decided to leave it for now - it'll go on sale in 9 weeks anyway, and hopefully should've lost weight by then. To cheer me up, Joe bought me a t-shirt with a cartoon of the Ghostbusters on - and I bought an "adult" DVD from Ann Summers.

We went home and spent the afternoon desperately trying to beat the Playstation into submission on FIFA, before I made tea. Signature meal - 3 guesses! Afterwards we watched "Silent Hill" - which annoys me somewhat...... not because I hate the film itself (it's bloody brilliant, truth be told) but because it always reminds me how it was the film I stuck on and watched with Aaron, right after he dumped me. It annoys me that I was spineless enough to watch a film, eat SuperNoodles and fall asleep, instead of slapping him till his ears bled and fleeing into the night. Yes, neither of us wanted me to walk home alone at 2 in the morning, but really, it probably would've made more sense. Any mugger would've possibly come off worse in a fight with me, at that moment.

After finishing a bottle of wine, we put the "adult" DVD on. What absolute shite, it was clearly some "woman-produced" effort, and at the risk of sounding sexist, I think men make them better. There were 6 "stories," you couldn't see anything (if you catch my drift), and the whole thing looked incredibly fake. Putting your hands on boobs does not make it "lesbian" - anyone could do that. In a fit of annoyed vengeance, we made our own effort instead..... I will never be able to look at the sofa again. Actually, I will - probably thinking "HA!! Fuck you Mum, guess what I got up to on your sofa??!! I am rebelling! HAAAAAAAAAAA!!!" I have issues, I know.

Saturday - Woke up in Mum and Dad's bed, which was LOVELY - although Joe refused any sexual activity out of sheer morals (that's what I get for seeing a good Catholic lad!) He overslept though, such was the comfiness, and had to leg it to his football match. Having housewife qualities now ingrained in me - I set about preparing the aforementioned Meditteranean meal, which took 3 HOURS!!! Sounds unbelievable, but I seriously hadn't imagined the ORGANISATION that goes into something like that. I had to find matching bowls, sort out placement, line up all ingredients, draw up a time-scheduled PLAN, pre-lay the table, make everything that could be served cold in advance, draw a MAP of the table and where everything would go...... it was mental.

Sadly, I'd had a phone call the night before offering me weekend shifts, so had to go to work at 4 - faced usual abuse. Raced home, making an it's-expensive-but-it's-quicker dash into Marks and Sparks for crusty bread, salad and pudding....... and threw myself into a get-changed-pre-heat-oven-marinate-chops-make-salad-finish-laying-table-light-candles-set-lighting-play-music etc...... cacophony of organisation, all before Joe arrived. Steered him into the lounge with a beer and the Playstation - with promises NOT to enter the dining room until called.
Thankfully, it all went spectacularly. Forgive me for bragging, but it was simply perfect beyond all possible belief. I have cooked before, obviously, for families and (once) friends, but I'm always used to at LEAST one thing going wrong, due to lack of planning, mainly. But NOTHING went wrong at all, and for once - I discovered the joys and rewards of being organised. Joe's face was classic - he was absolutely stunned and apparently couldn't believe that someone "would do such a big thing" for him. YESSSSSSSSSS!!! Ladies and Gentlemen, this is my "Hilton."

MENU: (Imagine spread over a large table, all in different bowls and platters)

Lamb chops (with a jug of port sauce)
Cold potatoes
King prawns
Greek salad (feta)
Cous-cous
Crusty bread
Dipping sauces (Pink Mojo, Balsamic vinegar, Thai Lime, Nando's Piri-piri and Miso)
Baby tomatoes
Sweet peppers

PUDDING:

Chocolate trifle (Sparks' own)

Afterwards we basked in the Meditteranean goodness and watched "Hot Fuzz." And simply could NOT stop imitating Nick Frost pretending to be a swan. "Honk!".............. "HONK!" Oh, and I feel I should point out - being that I'm fiercely proud of my music collection - that Joe thought the "Meditteranean Playlist" I'd created was superb, and matched the setting perfectly. YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!! It's nice getting things right, for a change.

Sunday - was pretty sweet. We hung out all morning after a Maccies breakfast (and I wonder why I'm putting on weight) and had a Red Dwarf fest, whilst I miserably contemplated work. To my amazement and delight, Joe offered to accompany me - which I let him, on the promise that he didn't say anything to the "gang" without clear provocation or open warfare. They didn't say a WORD to me for the whole 3 hours. It was like having a BODYGUARD! They didn't even make the usual sex jokes or tell me what to do - apart from Fat Keith who had his normal go at me and made jokes about me breaking things. I've never once broke a glass whilst working there, I'd like to point out. Except when one fell on my head, which wasn't my fault. Anyway, his Highness stood in his usual corner, (making it awkward for me to get out) and talked ACROSS Joe all afternoon rather than just moving his fat arse and swapping places to talk to his mate. Awkward cunt. He probably wanted to wind me up. Oh well. When was the last time HE had sex, I wonder?

After a remarkably quick 3 hours (having visitors makes time go quicker, it would seem) I shuffled off home, to have a mini-Meditteranean meal and cosy up with the remaining wine in front of "Night of the Living Dead." Really not that scary. Am I just NUMB to all this, now?
Shaun came back from work and announced he was staying at his mate's till Mum and Dad returned. Guess I'm cleaning the house alone, then. Why is everyone trying so hard to get on my tits recently??!

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Current Mood: irritated by pub men
Current Music: "2 bad" Michael Jackson

The Plan

2009-08-04T15:08:00.000-07:00

Dear Diary,

I have a plan. A simply fantastic one. I've been racking my rack (Thank you Karen Walker) for ages, trying to find a way to pay Joe back for that wonderful gesture - the gift of the Hilton. And today it struck me. Shaun's going away with his mates this weekend, which means that I will have the house COMPLETELY to myself.

Guess what I have in mind?

Did you guess?

If you guessed an entire weekend of be-as-loud-as-you-like-I-have-my-own-house sex, then you would be wrong. Well..... OK, maybe you wouldn't. But that wasn't my plan, my plan is thus: I plan to cook, for me and Joe, a massive, sexy, table-covering Meditteranean FEAST!!! Great plan, eh?

It did go through several transitions - first there was the downright dirty "9 and a 1/2 weeks" style plan - basically covering the table in fruit, whipped cream and the like and getting all messy. And then I remembered - I may be alone in the house, but it's still my parents' house. I don't want to leave evidence.
Then I thought about a sensual eat-everything-with-your-hands meal - but it doesn't seem to make sense, somehow. So Medittteranean it is. Besides, he has a footie match on Saturday, so I figured he'd probably appreciate the meal, as well. All I have to do now is find a good recipe.

I have some ideas, but only vague ones, so far. Which is silly really, as I reckon it'll need a lot of planning. Oh well, if uni proved anything, it's that I work damned well under pressure, especially at the last minute.

On a similar topic - I discovered something quite strange and unexpected while Mum and Dad are away. I am actually, without knowing how, REALLY REALLY good at housekeeping! Seriously! Ask me to tidy my room, and it takes me about a year to get round to it. But somehow, having our own house has made Shaun and I incredibly house-proud - we simply CANNOT stop tidying up after ourselves. We even do the dishes and put wash-loads on! (Well...... I do....) Just subconciously, I'll find myself cleaning up after myself and emptying bins, and sorting ironing. It doesn't sound that exciting, I know, but it is to me..... I've become a domestic GODDESS!

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Weeks don't come better than this

2009-08-03T08:16:00.001-07:00

Dear Diary,

Bloody hell, I really should stop leaving entire weeks in between blogs. It really just seems to reinforce how goddamn lazy I actually am. ANYhoo, what took place between today and last Sunday's hungover madness?

Monday - We went swimming. Followed by a curry. Yeah, we're weak-willed (not to mention predictable) people. But our record time's getting better, and now we can do 4 lengths at a time before taking a breather.

Tuesday and Wednesday - were pretty boring. I had work both days. Have to say, I LOVE all the staff being on holiday, I get all their shifts.

Thursday - was fecking awesome. Mum and Dad were off at 4 in the morning to go on holiday for 2 weeks. The sense of freedom was overwhelming, as Shaun and I relished having the place to ourselves, dancing around and doing what the hell we liked. I cooked meatballs and spaghetti for tea and felt damn proud of myself. Deaf class started back up after a 2 week hiatus, which was fun. Especially afterwards - when Joe drove me home. Shaun had gone to work, leaving all the lights off and all the curtains open - a rookie error. Terrified of burglars, I begged Joe to come and investigate with me. Naturally everything was fine. Joe was all ready to go home (work the next morning, etc....) until a little kissing session led to a slight "Come upstairs" scenario. I learnt two things -

My single bed really is too fucking small sometimes

Quickies can be damn hot

Friday - was really good fun. Met up with Lisa again (who's home for a while before committing herself to big scary adult life in London) and drove to the Trafford Centre for a spot of shopping and lunch. I drooled over a t-shirt I saw last time, which I did the 2-week test on..... if you see something you really truly want, and can't imagine living your life without, see if you remember it in 2 week's time. If you do, and the yearning feelings are still going strong, then you know it's not just a fleeting fancy.
Anyhow, my t-shirt has the Dark Side of the Moon spectrum picture on it, with "Pink Floyd" written in pink rhinestones (see here). Sadly, I'd splashed out on some gorgeous pink and white so-innocent-it's-sexy underwear (the kind you wear with a pearl necklace) earlier, so the top wasn't to be mine for today.

Made the obligatory trip to Ann Summers (I like to keep abreast of any new products) and there's a new Rampant Rabbit out! Oh, HELL YEAH!! It's called the G-pulse, and looks like one that might actually have a shot at helping me achieve the elusive internal orgasm! Have a look - it's pretty groovy.

Later that evening, Joe came round, to make use of my big empty house. Shaun was out at work, so we stuck "Saw 4" on, (WIDESCREEN, YO!!) and scranned down on Dominoes pizza. He was astounded at the twist (best one since the first film, in my humble opinion) and seemed to really enjoy it. One more to go!

Afterwards I decided to show off the new underwear - coupled with a sort of light, floaty, pale pink and cream strappy vest I've had in the back of my wardrobe forever. It could've been made as part of a SET, it matched that perfectly. Naturally, I wore it with a pearl necklace, to complete the "Oh yes, I am an upscale, classy, lady-of-the-house who wears jewellry with undergarments and hosts fabulous uptown dinner parties" image. I do love embracing my theatrical side, dahlings. And I also love the noise men make when they orgasm. Is that just me? Oh well. He seemed to like the underwear, anyway.

Saturday - to carry on embracing my new domestic self, I cooked breakfast (by which I mean a fry-up) for the very first time, which went spectacularly, I'm pleased to report. In the afternoon, at Joe's request, we took a trip up to the animal sanctuary. Why? To look at kittens. KITTENS!! Apparently his ex back in Europe (who, rather spookily has the same name as me) left the window open the other day - meaning his three kittens left behind are no longer with us, sadly. Hence, he wanted to - well, not "replace" them, but, you know...... But oh my god - an hour of cuddling tiny all-black fluffy kittens + being looked at with big round Puss-in-Boots-style eyes = Best Afternoon EVER. Sadly, after a huge cuddle and stroke with "Moonbeam" and "Dirty Diana" (love it) Joe was told he wasn't suitable to adopt, as he lived near a main road.

Slightly gutted, we looked at the other animals for a bit before driving back to his. We stopped off in town (for him to buy Guitar Hero - YESSSSSSS!!) feeling all buoyed up, happy, and the-world-is-our-oyster-y before heading to Frankie and Benny's for a slap-up meal. Ended up back at his - all the better to rock fictious computer joints with. As it turns out, I fucking Rock the KASBAH when it comes to Guitar Hero. And when I say that, I mean I only played songs I knew, freaked out whenever I missed notes (40% of the time) and got so excited when I DID hit notes, that I cocked up again. Ah well. It was fun. And I make a good "groupie," apparently. All together now: "HIT ME WITH YOUR BEST SHOT.......! FIRE AWAY!!!" (*guitar solo*)

At Joe's request, I'd brought "Saw 5" which we stuck on after the "gigs." Was rather worried he'd find it shit - as it's largely considered among fans to be the worst of the series (not me- I frigging love it) but thankfully he really enjoyed it. So that's it! I have introduced him to the whole story (thus far) - now all there is to do is wait for the final installment, which comes out..... when is it again....? Oh that's right.... MY BIRTHDAY!!

Sunday - Joe had to be up early to transport his dad and brother to work (dad's car is in the garage, apparently), which meant that for the first time in about 10 years, I have seen 5am. ALERT THE AUTHORITIES!! On the plus side, when he came back, I finally, FINALLY found out why people like morning sex (you don't have to get in - and therefore, OUT - of bed at any point! Genius!!) After hanging round all morning, we went for a Subway, and he dropped me off home. Shaun had had a houseparty the night before, so I helped him tidy up, which took all of 10 minutes. Objects found included: a spilled pack of cards on the floor, a tiger-shaped "posing pouch" and a can of whipped cream. I don't even want to know.
Work called, couldn't think of a good enough reason not to go in. Had a great afternoon shift - only 3 hours, mid-afternoon and SHITE-loads of tips - and cooked mussels and pasta in a dill yoghurt sauce, topped with juicy prawns. I sat down with it in front of "Hannibal," with a bottle of rose wine.

A sweet week, indeed.

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Current Mood: sleepy
Current Music: "In your eyes" - Kylie

Kat gets a job interview!

2009-07-26T08:58:00.000-07:00

Dear Diary,

Oh man. Oh dear oh dear oh dear. What an alarming and yet completely amazing weekend that was. I can't remember the last time I was at a house-party, let alone one that ran the gamut from incredibly good fun to actually-a-little-bit-nasty (in a good way).

So let's start with Friday, which was both hilarious and strange in equal measures. After seeing Joe looking all sexy and professional in his work clothes, I dropped a little hint on Wednesday (via text) that maybe he'd like to wear them again on Friday morning at work, whilst conducting a job interview with a client. Except........ when I say "morning" I mean "evening," by "work" I mean "home," by "job interview" I mean "role-play," and by "client" I mean "me."
Therefore I spent Thursday afternoon crafting a subtly indecent "Covering letter" (you know - "I'd do ANYTHING for this job, etc.... "I will work LONG and HARD hours to get what I WANT, etc.....") and re-editing my CV to a much more risque version. Did you know I now have an A-Level in Handjobs? Yeah....... Was going to post it to his house as a sexy surprise, but lack of stamps meant I had to wait. I spent almost all of that evening's shift daydreaming - and also worrying slightly over what could go wrong.

Having said that, it all went really well. I realise I'm describing it like some kind of normal procedure, but really, I can't allow myself to get graphic! It was slightly embarrassing to begin with, sort of "OK, you go get changed in the bathroom, I'll get ready in here, don't come in till I tell you to!" "But, how will that work.....? I'm the boss!" "Yeah well..... just don't!"
Hmmm..... it's never like this in the Ann Summers short storybooks. Still, I scrambled into my fishnets, pencil skirt and heels (obviously I wore things on my top half - just not as interesting!) and presented "Sir" with the appropriate paperwork.

Basically the "plot" (which he had no idea about, but clocked on to brilliantly) was that I'd turned up at his company for a job interview, but, as the interview unfolded and he started quoting off my CV, it emerged that I'd printed off a "sexy CV" as a joke for my boyfriend a few days ago, and got it mixed up with the normal one I'd intended to take to the interview. Following? So, as he read off the wrong CV, much to my continuing "embarrassment," he asked me to explain and demonstrate the skills I'd listed, until things took their natural course........ (Well, "natural" if a manager should ever initiate something akin to sexual harrassment during a routine interview)

Much to my delight, it went swimmingly. I was dead nervous in case it went wrong or ended up being highly uncomfortable, but as it turns out, Joe's a cracking actor and was easily able to get "into character" - possibly because he has to do interviews at his real job, sometimes. And I won't lie - as fun as the whole role-playing experience turned out to be, there was a tiny wistful part of me that felt fantastic at being able to act again. I keep forgetting how much I missed it. Joe said I was a "brilliant" actor as well, which made me even more chuffed. Then we opened a glass of "champagne" (well, cheap Tesco Cava) to "celebrate me getting my new job." Fantastic!

Afterwards, we were starving, so went out for a takeaway pizza, which we munched in front of "Bruce Almighty." Good times!

Saturday

was motherfenkin' BRILLIANT. It was literally the PERFECT day. Woke up at half 9, which was lucky really, as a text beeped through from Mum asking if we wanted to go get a free breakfast up at the shop, as she was working today. So off we went! I have to say, that's the quickest I've EVER got out of bed on a Saturday! Or indeed..... any other day (*shameful blush*)

Joe refrained from a fry-up, due to footie practice later, so we munched down on sexy sausage and egg butties, while Mum came and chatted to us and the other shopgirls ribbed Joe. Probably as they've heard me moan about being single for so long, they wanted to come and see who'd shut me up!
Found out as well that one of my godmothers has won eight grand on online poker. I'm wondering if it's time to start buttering her up......? I'm joking of course..... or AM I......?

On Sunday, it was Phil's (one of Joe's mates) birthday, so at 3 oclock he came to pick me up and drive to Macclesfield, where Phil lives with his wife. AND, as it turns out, there was room for us to sleepover! We'd kind of been in a battle about that - I LOVED the idea of crashing out at someone's house after a party, but Joe -always the traditionalist - didn't like the idea of me sleeping in the same room as a load of boys. Not as a trust issue - just because he's been brought up old-fashioned, etc.... Anyway, he soon got past it at my excitement, so - with two sleeping bags and a gym mat rolled up in the boot, we were away!

Oh my god. Oh my actual god. What a fantastic, fantastic night. It was so much fun to see all the lads again - even more so when they suggested we got stuck into the alcohol straight away. Before long the barbeque got going, although it didn't EXACTLY go to plan - seeing as the rational exchange went something along the lines of:

Phil: "It's not lighting...... (*panicked*) Mate, it's not lighting"
Joe: "Mate, try lighting the charcoal...."
Phil: "What the hell do you THINK I'm doing?!"
Shell: "Hey guys - why don't you try this?" (*produces creme-brulee style blowtorch*)
Phil: "Awww, SWEET! Matt, try the blowtorch!"
Matt: ".............It's not working."
Kat: "Guys, have you tried reading the instructions?"
(*huge ominous silence*)
Matt: "Are you SERIOUS?!"
Joe: "Did you just BLASPHEME?!"
Matt: "Actually, she's got a point, pass the instructions......"
Kat: (*beams with pride*)
Phil: "Nice one, use the instructions!" (*sets fire to instructions and uses them to light barbeque*)

12 sausages and 4 burgers between 8 of us later, the Wii Sport was broken out and the girls (Me, Shell, and Becca) had made it through 3 bottles of wine. Shell seemed insistent on dragging Becca and I off for some "girl talk," which, to be honest, became tedious after quite a while. Is it just me, or is kicking 5 guys' asses at Wii Bowling SO much more gratifying and interesting than discussing how long "you've been together" and "what exactly you did for your 4 month anniversary"?

TOP 5 BEST PARTY MOMENTS:

1) The barbeque going hilariously (and spectacularly) wrong
2) Lying on my gym mat in the garden, gazing (and exclaiming) at the stars
3) Playing "Ring of Fire" around the dining table. Hellooooooo Uni Memories - damn I've missed you. By then I was on triple white rum and lemonades (I know, mixing - not cool)
4) The laughs. I swear, you'll find more at a house party than ANYWHERE else.
5) The "List as many different names for 'Vagina' as possible" rule in Ring of Fire. First person to stumble, loses and has to drink. We went for about 5 solid minutes, with some of the funniest results I've ever heard EVER. Top 2: "Ham Wallet" and "Roast beef sandwich." This is what you get when you hang out with men, I guess!

TOP 5 STRANGEST PARTY MOMENTS:

1) Serenading a very amused Joe with an uncanny impression of Homer Simpson singing a heartfelt and passionate rendition of "Uptown Girl" in protest against the government.
2) An "old friend" driving for 45 minutes just to come to the party, hardly say a word to anyone, play on the Wii while we all did drinking games in the next room - and then drive home. Whilst I was informed that he was the type to grow up into a serial killer. Fun!
3) Briefly falling asleep on the gym mat in the garden, and Matt apparently coming out for a wee without even knowing I was there. I was about a metre away from inadvertantly participating in watersports.
4) Removing my contacts and my bra without even knowing I'd done it (both before going to bed, I can assure you)
5) Phil and Shell's 6 hamsters ALL escaping = thus begins a hamster hunt.

TOP 5 WORST PARTY MOMENTS

1) Practically setting fire to Matt by walking past and almost knocking him into the (lit) barbeque. In all fairness, I struck a deal - everytime he clicked his fingers all night, I had to get him a beer.

2) Drawing a swastika on my hand (due to a not-very-funny-when-sober joke) and getting a very offended glare from Joe, who told me to get rid of it. Having said that, he seemed quite annoyed with me for at least half the night. Damn, fucking, not-being-able-to-handle-my-drink....

3) A moment in the garden where Joe came to check on me - as we lay next to each other on the grass, I accidentally knocked my glass of wine over his arm, to a curt "Thanks. Great..... thanks for that...." before he stormed off. In a fit of rage, I threw my wine glass into a bush (thankfully wasn't drunk enough to smash it against a wall or similar)

4) Joe getting all huffy during the "Nipple Rule" of Ring of Fire (last person to grab the nipple of the person next to them, loses) because he didn't like me getting "groped." Fair point, I suppose, although it was through clothes, and EVERYONE was doing it - with no other boyfriends kicking off.

5) Me generally getting extremely pissed, and therefore getting very grumpy towards the end. Oh, and not even remembering getting into PJs or indeed, bed.

Today was hell on wheels. Woke up feeling almost CATASTROPHICALLY ill and hungover - I could practically see through Time. Vaguely remember waking up to see Matt walk through in just his pants (Mmmmm..... even WITHOUT my glasses on) and saying: "Joe............. I don't feel very well....." before passing out again.

Stayed on the floor in the sleeping bag for the next hour, occasionally falling back asleep, as people walked in and out. Joe was being strangely lovely to me - hair stroking and the like. Maybe to make up for his behaviour the night before. Or more accurately..... his reaction to MY behaviour the night before (*facepalm*).

As we all got dressed and the last vestiges of my memories came floating back to me, we made a unanimous and educated decision to go for a pub breakfast. Which was fucking GORGEOUS, and felt like nectar from Heaven, clearing away my hangover.
Afterwards, we drove home and I did the kareoke shift at work (which I've just come home from). Still hungover, which made it a living hell. Yes, it's shameful - a day-long hangover, but I haven't had one like that since uni. And however bad the feelings of shame, illness and yuckiness, I won't lie - I missed it.

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Current Mood: recovering
Current Music: "Freak me" - Silk

Catch-up

2009-07-23T18:01:00.001-07:00

Dear Diary,

Once again, you find me very boring. Not much to report since my horrific rapist's escapades on Sunday. The good news is, we've completely forgotten about it, and that's the line we're sticking to. Well, I'm speaking for him, really - I can't stop turning it over in my head like a poisonous flan. But, bygones, and all that malarkey.

Wasn't able to go swimming on Monday, due to once again having extra shifts. Whilst I'm not complaining about the extra moulah, it kind of sucks that I've only been able to swim with Joe once. It was kind of fun. But the shift - brrrrrr. Christ only knows what the "gang" (who stand at the end near the pumps) were drinking Monday night, but they seemed a lot more crude than usual. Indeed, to the point where we went from simple pleasantries to downright nastiness. Observe:

Man 1: "I like your skirt, Kat."
Kat: "Oh, thank you! Yeah, a lot of people like this...."
Man 1: "She's got a cracking pair of thighs our Kat, hasn't she?"
Kat: "Ha..... thanks."
Man 2: "I bet you're fantastic in bed as well, aren't you?"
Man 1: "Oh aye!"
Kat: "Well, it's not for me to say, but...."
Man 1: "Oh, she will be, I bet she's a right firecracker!"
Kat: "Oh, come on guys....."
Man 2: "I tell you what love, I'd need a bloody OXYGEN mask if you were sat on my face!"
Kat: "..........................??????????!!!!!!"

WHAT THE HELL??! I mean, who SAYS something like that out loud?! Especially to someone you barely know, about 40 years your junior! I mean, there is friendly barmaid banter, and then there is crossing the fucking line.
Having said that, I'm sure ANYONE would need an oxygen mask, should someone sit on their face for a long period of time...... Unless there's a safe way of doing it? Oh, the mind boggles.

Tuesday was nice. Since we weren't going to see each other till Friday, I met Joe after work and we went for a Pizza Hut. Good times! He's not too well at the moment.... like everyone in the country, he believes he has Swine Flu, since one person has it in his office. He seemed OK, mostly since he was doped up to the eyeballs with Lemsip and ProPlus. But he looked yummy in his shirt and tie, like those lovely men you walk past in town on their way home from work, looking all fine and professional. Mmmm..... I may have not-so-subtly hinted that I found the look very sexy. So dignified, eh?

Wednesday we did indeed meet for lunch, which we had in the train station bar. I found out that an amusement arcade were looking for staff - just to change money over and keep an eye on things, so I got an application form. When I got home, Mum said she'd rather I was unemployed than working in an amusement arcade.
I cannot fucking win!!!! I'm starting to despair now, there is simply no way of pleasing her or getting her off my back. Now she's talking about me going back to uni or taking a PGCE so I can teach Sign Language. I don't even WANT to be a teacher. But it seems, in this world, you can't do what you want to do anymore. That would be far too simple.

Working AGAIN tonight. Oh happy days.

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Current Mood: fed-up
Current Music: "Give" - Tori Amos

The Sound of Music

2009-07-21T13:26:00.000-07:00

Dear Diary,

10 SONGS I CAN'T STOP LISTENING TO (and make me smile uncontrollably whenever I hear them):

Sleeping Satellites (Tamsin Archer) - The best thing about working at the pub is the music. The landlord downloaded a programme called "Spotify" - which is apparently the next big thing. Anyway, it means I get to enjoy and hear new music, as well as re-discovering old ones I'd conciously forgotten. Like this! It's so beautiful and profound and spacey - the minute I heard it after 16 years, I got goosebumps like you wouldn't believe. Have a listen, you'll surely recognise it.

Porcelain (Moby) - Oh my god. This has to be one of my favourite songs OF ALL TIME. As I said to Lisa a few weeks ago - this is a song that I would physically MARRY, if that were possible. In a heartbeat. I can't remember the last time I heard something so stunning and sweepy and marvellous - and was there EVER a better scene to play it over than that one out of "The Beach"? This song never fails to make me smile - and it's great for falling asleep to.

Kissed by a Rose (Seal) - Again, if I could marry this song, I would. It's simply PERFECT. I'm a huge sucker for harmonies, so as you can imagine, this is song is a veritable 3-minute orgasm of wonderful-ness. No idea how Seal performs this Live, with all 208 (probably) harmonies that appears in it, but let me tell you one thing - "Only Men Aloud," 20-part choir, 2 men for each harmony, 5 feet away from me..... YES. I will never ever stop loving this song, because it is outstanding.

Uninvited (Alanis Morrisette) - Proof, if more were needed, that I am really REALLY getting into Alanis, and that she is fantastic. I was originally looking for the 2009 Freemason's mix, and ending up downloading The Morrisette's version as well. Oh my god. If only I could sound this powerful and magical with 4 piano notes and a 24-piece orchestra behind me. And I wouldn't normally put three links in one paragraph, but you just HAVE to see this. Yes, she looks slightly drunk at times, but EPIC goosebumps. And just LOOK at that orchestra get their groove on! Perfect for sticking on when you're alone in the house and want to belt out an enormously agonising emotio-gasm.

Hold on (KT Tunstall) - For some unknown reason, I don't normally like KT Tunstall. No idea why - probably cos she looks a bit odd and she just irritates me. But I heard this playing in New Look a while ago, and couldn't get the beat out my head. Plus, it sounds a bit like "Walk like an Egyptian," which makes me happy.

Work (Kelly Rowland/Freemason's) - Wow. GodDAMN I love this song, it's the catchiest beat in the WORLD. Heard it whilst out bowling with Anne about a month ago, and the second I heard that opening, I was hooked. I'm a sucker for Indian instrumentals (hence why I love "What goes around comes around" so much) and it just makes you want to hit the nearest dancefloor and shake-ass. Although don't listen to the original - once you've heard the Freemason's remix, the original just sounds like a child trying to cover it on a keyboard.

Golden Brown (The Stranglers) - Oh my god, just listen to that harpsichord. LISTEN TO IT!! Have you ever heard anything so fantastic and swaying and fairground-like? Almost makes you want to do a waltz and grab some candyfloss. I actually have no idea what the song's actually about, as I always get too distracted by the background music to focus on the lyrics.

My Little Runaway (Dell Shannon) - Yet another gem discovered whilst listening to the background music at work all evening. It's so old-sounding and fantastic, and makes you full of the "your music today is all a load of machine-produced WANK!" spirit. And if that weren't enough, it was the theme to an old TV show called "Crime Story" AND has the most crazy wonderful keyboard solo I've heard in a long time. Watch the Live version as well, it's just fantastic and so energy-filled. But, thinking about how much old music I prefer to current music, I've come to the conclusion that I SO belong in another era.

Aint no sunshine (Bill Withers, Jackson 5,) - For some reason, I cannot get this out my head. It's always great to stick on and walk moodily down the street like you're Hugh Grant in the famous market scene from Notting Hill. But the Jackson 5 version gives me chills - I never knew they covered it, and it almost seems kind of poignant, given recent events (can't believe it was a month ago). But damn, if anyone can sing like they're genuinely heartbroken, it's Jacko.

Common People (Pulp) - I seem to be getting into songs about 10 years after they came out. I do the same with fashion too, if I'm honest. But this song - I don't know why, but I just love it. The lyrics, the melodies - and the idea that a woman just came up to a man one day and said "I'm tired of being rich, I wanna see how the other side live!" Brilliant.

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Chapter 5 - in which I became a rapist

2009-07-20T17:36:00.000-07:00

Dear Diary,

God, I'm such a twat sometimes, I really am. Friday was absolutely fine. Turns out I was just stressing my head all along about nothing in particular. Joe came to pick me up Friday evening - and as much as I was planning to remain cool and aloof, I just apologised for being all crazy and paranoid. He in turn apologised for neglecting me, so all's well that end's well! We made our usual stop at Tesco for booze, grabbed a pizza (I know, I know) and snuggled down in front of Saw 3. 3 down, two to go! I know, I'm such a collossal nerd.

Saturday - was pretty awesome. Decided it would be pretty daft for Joe to miss anymore footie practices, so he dropped me off home early. And by that, I mean we went for a Subway breakfast and ended up chatting/easting so long that he missed practice anyway. Oh well. Apparently he went for a run when he got back, so I feel less guilty at least! Dossed around all day watching a programme about the moon landing with parents and did another abs workout with Shaun, before spending 4 hours getting ready. It was Joe's mate Matt's birthday, and I'd been invited along to the night out in town. Sweet! Wore the Cheryl dress (I'd make a terrible celebrity, I always seem to wear the same clothes) with contacts and straight hair and raced into town - late as usual.

The night out was brilliant! Sadly, three quite unfortunate things happened:

1) It rained. Bye-bye straight - or even normal-looking - hair
2) I went to withdraw money only to discover the hard way that some bill had recently been paid - had £10 to last me all night
3) We went to the expensive part of town - as per Matt's request

Rather adorably, Joe promised to "look after me" (I love that - it sounds like he's my pimp) so I dived straight into a horrific whiskey-laden cocktail which got nicer the more I drank it. Although it did cause me to wince everytime I took a gulp. Good times! Was quite nervous about meeting the rest of his friends and talking in a proper non-cinematic setting, but my instinctive talk-gene kicked in - and soon we were chatting away about Catholicism, having a laugh and nattering about how splendidly terrifying "Bruno" was.

So we moved on, from bar to bar. We went to a science-fiction-esque bar where we played "I never" and sat in a rocket. We moved on again, ending up at my favourite bar, "Blue." The bad news is, Joe hates my kind of music. The good news is, I love it, and "Blue" was playing it, so soon got down to strutting my drunken stuff with Matt, who was the only one willing to dance with me - I'm sure the massive amounts of brithday alcohol had NOTHING to do with it! Hell, I'm not complaining, he even got up during Jackson 5! Typically, I got a tiny crush on him for the evening - damn my libido. Welllll, he's lovely, quite shy, but very good looking, and a GIANT of a man - we're talking 6 foot at least. Obviously, I would never act on it, but you know - a girl can look, surely?

Finally ended up in a superb grill/cocktail bar, where Chris's girlfriend and I got chatting. One of the group got in a huge man-strop about something, so Joe went off to play peacemaker. Matt eventually left to make sure Pete got home OK, so I followed him outside and wished him a Happy Birthday - at which he gave me a big hug and a kiss and thanked me for coming out and "being the only person to dance with me." Awwww! I just wish I hadn't felt all girly inside - what a stupid slag I am. A good-looking man gives me a kiss on the cheek and I go all excited? I'm ashamed, really I am. You can take me out of the slag mindset, but you can't take the slag mindset out of...... wait, I'm not sure that makes sense. Oh well, it doesn't have to. Nothing I say ever does.

After a while the lights went up, so we took our clue and got the hell out. We walked all the way to the bus station (us girls barefoot, of course) debating religious issues and the like. Joe was being very chivalrous - he'd only drank a little, claiming he wanted to "look after me." Aww! I would like to say this is NOT because I was drunk, but frankly - I was. In fact, I think at one point, in a fit of wasted guilt, I proposed to repay him with a sexual favour for every drink he bought me. Maybe that's why I ended up so drunk!!

Anyhow, we got the night bus home, a disgusting, crawling cacophony of pissed-up knobheads, shouting things and trying to look cool. I rested on Joe's shoulder and put my Ipod in to block out some 15 year-old emo-tastic weasel-faced little runt shouting Michael Jackson jokes at the top of his voice (which, I'm told, went on for about 25 minutes). We got back to Joe's about half 4, and then, I'm ashamed to say, got into his car and drove to MacDonald's. Did you know it was open 24 hours? Yeah...... We got back, and - inexplicably - I found it much less hassle to pull on a pair of his shorts and t-shirt than to just sleep in my underwear. Intrigueing......

Ah, Sunday - this went fantastic until I ruined everything (see blog title). Well, I woke up all hungover and bleary-eyed, half the day gone. A text chimed through from Mum, proposing a roast dinner, so we shuffled out of bed, wondering how to pass the time till 6. Why, Frankie and Benny's, of course! Although I, slightly embarrassingly, only had my dress, so was forced to go out in public in a baggy pair of combats (complete with 29 pockets) and a black hoodie. Fun times! But the meal was gorgeous, and a lot of fun. If only it could've lasted......

Since the meal went on so long, I only had an hour till I had to be home, so I suggested a little "work-out" to give me an appetite. Except, on the way back to his, something blew out on his car. I won't go into details (mainly cos I can't, I know fuck-all about cars) but basically he was in big trouble - he shouldnt' have been driving it so soon after it being decked by his mum. In fact, the only thing that apparently stopped his dad having a huge go at him was the fact that I was there.

We traipsed up to his room, Joe all miserable, where we just flopped on the bed and cuddled. And here's the awful part, I, for some mental reason, thought a bit of sex would cheer him up. Despite him very obviously just wanting to cuddle. But I, never knowing when to stop and learn a bit of tact, kept pawing him, until he half-heartedly agreed. And it was awful, he was so clearly not into it, and we ended up stopping halfway through. So, as it stands, I have essentially raped my boyfriend. That doesn't feel good.

The drive home was awful, mostly in silence, and whenever I attempted to apologise he just told me to forget about it, and pretend it didn't happen. Eeeek. I didn't get a text whilst at work, and to be honest, I didn't expect one.
Work was pretty terrible - it was kareoke night (following the landlady's grandson's christening) so we were pretty rammed. So, I was flustered, miserable, and receieved shite-all tips all night. Oh, what a fun evening!

Got an extra shift tonight. Oh, and a text from Joe. We seem to be ignoring what happened. Fine by me.

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Current Mood: shitty
Current Music: "Sleeping Satellites" - Tamsin Archer

Another jolly Life recap

2009-07-17T11:21:00.000-07:00

Dear Diary,

It really is getting quite boring just listing what happens to me all the time - as I imagine it is for you dear reader, as well. But truth be told, in my boring old life, this is all I CAN do. I almost wish I was back to being "Bad Kat" again, just so I'd have a hilarious/controversial/wrong anecdote to share, like in the good old days. BUT I suppose when I was back in that period, I was being all self-destructive, or whatever you'd call it that isn't quite so dramatic. Oh, I don't know.

So let's see - what has happened in the world of Kat lately?

Tuesday I went to the usual pub quiz with Anne and her parents. Fun old times. And when I say that, I mean I wanted to rip my own hair out. She REALLY needs to learn the art of polite conversation - at least I know when to shut the hell up about something that's not remotely interesting. Well, SOMETIMES, anyway......

Wednesday I had my usual pub shift. Shaun, Mum and I went to visit Grandma during the day which was awesome. I taught Shaun some Sign Language and we got in trouble for playing in Grandma's bedroom (there's something about visiting Grandma that just makes us regress to our childhoods)

Thursday Shaun dragged me out of bed at 7am to go for a run. I wanted to crack his head open. Ran 3 times round the block, I nearly collapsed and died - and was truly ashamed at how little I could actually run before wanting to stop. Had to practically be fork-lifted into the shower, where I lay gasping like a fish and sweating like a paedo in a playground. Hours later (which is roughly how long it took to pull myself together) I met Lisa in town for some shopping and lunch. Oh, and we went to see the NEW HARRY POTTER FILM!! Two words (or letters): 3-D. Best. Experience. EVER. The titles floated off the screen at us, the Death Eaters gave me motion sickness as they flew through London, and as Harry stood in Slughorn's house, I could practically reach out and grab him by the skinny wizard man-handles.

On a not-so-pleasant note - Joe rejected my invitation to hang out in the evening, claiming he had to work late. Which was the ONLY text he sent me all day (I'm demanding, I know). And then I got an email reply off the perfect job I was certain I'd get - the company Joe works for that I applied for after the ritualistic burning? Yeah. Two rejections in one day. That didn't feel terrific.

Friday Shaun made me do a horrific abs work-out routine which damn near killed me. But today soon picked up when I cooked tea - Mussell and Dill spaghetti topped with two juicy king prawns. Yeah, motherfucker! I really should cook more often. Mum didn't seem to enjoy it, but everything she does annoys the hell out of me these days, anyway.
Joe didn't text me at all today. I got all huffy and assumed he's fallen out with me, especially when he deigned to text, only to tell me he's had a banging headache all day. But he sounded alright when I rang him this evening, and even more shocking - seemed up for hanging out tonight! Things had better pick up, I don't like being Paranoid-Girlfriend. Although it comes surprisingly easy to me......

Is this what it's like for everyone?

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Current Mood: confused and defiant
Current Music: "The Tudors" theme tune

Another awesome weekend

2009-07-13T06:01:00.000-07:00

Dear Diary,

Oh, what a busy few days. Mind you, I suppose that's a good thing, seeing as how it keeps me from dwelling on how useless I am most of the time. So, I left you on Thursday, on the brink of a tremedous, and almost dangerously fun weekend. Where to begin? Oh that's right, with my SIGN LANGUAGE EXAM!!!

THURSDAY

Earlier than usual, I trotted down (via bus) to the centre to get some practice in, and almost immediately made a cock of myself by accidentally walking straight into the lounge whilst an exam was taking place. Ooops. Hung out in the kitchen, practising with everyone else and swapping secret smiles with Joe, when he arrived. We went outside to "practise" (translation: engage in an illicit snog against a wall) and went over the exam countless times.

Well, the wonderful news is, my exam went great. Better than great, I'd say - despite extreme stage fright (it was being filmed). I apologised for the interruption, the tutor said it was fine, as she didn't hear me (Ha! I love her) and we were away. Did have a potentially sticky moment when Joe was brought up - as we'd agreed to, well, not exactly keep it SECRET, but just not tell anyone in class for the time being. But then this happened:

3/4 through the exam (both signing):

Tutor: "You have boyfriend?"
Me: (*panicked expression and indecently long pause*) "Yes."
Tutor: "How long?"
Me: "I think.... 2 months......?"
Tutor: "Awwww!"
Me: (*thinking: "There's no way she'll ask anything else about him! I'm safe..."*)
Tutor: "His name what?"
Me: (*thinking: "Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck!"*) "J-o-e"
Tutor: "Oh........ OH, I see! Awwww!"
Me: (*helpless fake-smile grimace*)

So yeah. And the funny part is, when Joe was asked the same question (his exam was straight after mine), he was so alarmed at the prospect of more finger-spelling, he simply said "No, I'm single." Hmmmm..... I wonder what the tutor thinks? Anyway, it was fun, I enjoyed it, and I think I did very well. Afterwards Joe and I went for a celebratory drink and got a pizza on the way home. Mmmm..... 14-inch.....

FRIDAY

Nothing special. Mooched around all day till Joe picked me up. We went to see "The Hangover" which was absolutely fucking brilliant and incredibly well-written. And I've now seen Heather Graeme's boob. Just a fun fact for you. Oh, and the beardy guy who played Alan had better win an Emmy or something, because he was incredibly hilarious. I will say only this: SUNGLASSES on a BABY. That is all.

Best quote ever: "Hey, this is Alan, leave me a message. Or ring back later. But don't send me a text, because it's gay."

SATURDAY

was pretty awesome. After waking up and fooling around slightly (WHY do I find it impossible to have morning sex? WHY??!) we decided that hanging out more was WAY more interesting than Joe's football practice- and so, on the sperm of the moment, jumped a bus into town. The journey in itself was pretty interesting - Joe discovered the small silver bullet I always carry around (lord only knows why - surely no emergency constitutes the use of a vibrator?) in my handbag, and sneakily put it to use. Tram vibrations, plus vibrator vibrations, plus denim jeans? I was done before we even reached town!
Pretty much just faffed around all afternoon, looking in the shops, which was HELL for me, as I'd only brought my heels to wear (assuming I was only staying one night). Joe picked up several horror movies and we went for an All-you-can-eat Chinese. Afterwards we sat on a bench opposite the train station, watching the world go by and pretending to be deaf so we could practise signing - much to the awe of some nearby kids.

And oh my fucking life, you won't BELIEVE who I saw. There was an Eagles concert taking place nearby, so loads of adults were heading in one direction. And all of a sudden, KEN from CORRIE was getting out of a car. WILLIAM ROACH!! The man is a Coronation Street LEGEND!!! I sat there literally gawping at him, too scared to take a photo or ask for an autograph - a little bit because he turned and looked right at me, to see my mouth hanging and my eyes popping. Lovely. Anyway, we got home and watched "Saw 2." 2 down, 3 to go!

SUNDAY

Ah, Sunday. This was a pretty extrordinary day, in many different ways. Well, the good news is that Joe's family were all going away till Tuesday, so we could do what we liked (translation: be inordinately noisy). Which made for a very creepy moment when his cat Shandy walked in. Have you ever been watched by a cat? It's bloody scary - totally killed the moment. But I could forgive him, he's the cutest cat in the world. He's about 80, has a purr like a vibrator and breathes hilariously.

The afternoon was pretty fun - in kinda weird ways. First off, I went to have a bath...... and in a futile attempt to be sexy asked Joe to come "scrub my back." First we got cockblocked by Jehovah's Witnesses (why did they knock so urgently? WHY??!), and then, with a resounding and sickening crunch - he stood on my glasses. My gorgeous, sexy, secretary-style, zebra-print thick-framed glasses. Well, that's what I get for trying to be saucy, I suppose. We rang the Optician's which closed at 2 - so in a desperate, crazy, race-against-time, we leapt in the car and raced back home. Except his car was running dangerously low on petrol, so we had to zoom along the motorway, me clutching one-armed glasses up to my eye, and yelling dramatic commentary. Back at my house I raced in, yelling a speedy 30-second explanation to Dad whilst grabbing my contact lenses, and running back out.

We made it to the Tesco Petrol station with 0 miles left. Exciting times!Joe had planned to cook tea as repayment for a few weeks ago - so once my lenses were in, we popped into Tesco for ingredients. And guess what - we bumped in Lisa!! And her mum. Had a big long chat about her sexy new flat in London (she's moving in Sunday with Mike) before continuing the hunt for ingredients - both pretending to be deaf and signing to each other all the way round the shop. It's so geeky, but damn, it's so fun!

Back at Joe's I hung around watched him cook tea - which, incidentally, was AMAZING. Stir-fried prawns (complete with groovy chef-style giant flame) with marie-rose sauce to start, garlic and herby salmon with lemon dill sauce, new potatoes and asparagus for main, and ice cream (covered copiously with crumbled up Wispas) for dessert - which we ate in front of Dr. Who. Ice-cream, Wispas, and David Tennant. What the hell more could a girl want?Oh wait, it get's better! We went to see "Bruno" - and I met his mates! They're really nice, although we didn't get to talk much. But oh my god - go and see "Bruno," if you haven't already. It is fucking HILARIOUS!! I can't remember the last time I cried laughing.

So all in all, a fab weekend!
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Current Mood: relaxed

Current Music: "Hold on" - KT Tunstall

Funerals and Friends

2009-07-09T08:13:00.001-07:00

Dear Diary,

So, Tuesday was pretty awesome. Although in slightly different measures. To celebrate Lisa's upcoming birthday, she had decided on the aforementioned "double date" (which I got stupidly excited about - never been on one before!) at a gorgeous pub near town.

Sadly, I made the huge and almost catastrophic mistake of getting ready whilst watching Michael Jackson's funeral Live on TV. Have you ever watched the funeral of your idol whilst preparing for a night out? If I can impart any wisdom at all, it is simply: DON'T. What a nightmare. Speeches, tributes, and Stevie Wonder later, and I was crying my eyes out - with contact lenses to insert, make-up to apply, and only 5 minutes to do so before Joe picked me up. And, given his reaction to my reaction, I somehow didn't think he'd understand.....

The funeral, as it happens, was gorgeous. Well, it was also massively over-the-top, huge, potentially gaudy but spectacular; everything we'd come to expect from him, I guess. The gold coffin, Queen Latifah's speech, and the performers were marvellous (apart from Mariah, but I generally can't stand her anyway). Shaheen did Britain proud, Jermaine was heart-achingly wonderful, and this performance from Usher had me sobbing like a baby....... Mind you, I was right - every MJ song that I predicted would be played/performed was done.

I still don't know how I feel about the whole thing, to be honest. It's incredibly hard to believe he's not actually in the world anymore - and somehow, seeing his funeral, and the gold coffin lying there, knowing his body was actually in it and not up dancing around made it all more real than it's felt so far. It's such a crushing feeling, knowing that we've lost someone so wonderful, and frankly, the idea that I'll never get to see him Live - or that the world will never get to see just how amazing his comeback would have been, kills me.

We've truly been robbed, it's like the world itself has been pulled out from under us - and now we have to have a world without him. I can't imagine it, to be honest. No matter how long we went without hearing from him, it was always strangely comforting to know that he was just THERE, around somewhere, biding his time, or just doing his thing. What breaks my heart the most is how he died with millions of critics taking bets, people in pubs up and down the country spectating how he probably "wouldn't make it through 50 gigs, or even turn up." It's so sad that he couldn't prove them wrong, as we know he would've. It's strange - Mum can't understand why I'm upset about it, because I never met him. One word: So? You don't have to meet someone for them to touch your life.

I've been trying to write a poem about it, but am struggling so far. I really seem to have lost my poetry groove this last year. Oh well. Maya Angelou pretty much said it all for me (see here).

ANYHOW, as to Lisa's night - it was fantastic. Managed to pull myself together in time and rocked up holding a big smiley face birthday balloon (rather weirdly, I'm not afraid of helium ones) and her present - some "Lisa-style" earrings and a Chocolate cookbook. Was fun to see Mike again, and all introductions were made for Joe's benefit. Was slightly terrified of any awkardness but the evening was really good fun; flowing conversation (ranging from fetishes to politics to celebritites we'd kill), gorgeous food and a whole lotta fun. Lisa and Mike are moving into a sexy London flat pretty soon, so was awesome hearing about that - not to mention angling for an invite (*cough*)

So, went home feeling full and happy. I worked a shift on Wednesday. And according to Lisa's own blog - Joe has the Stamp of Approval! Sweeeeeeeeet.

Today finds me in something of a tizz - it's my Unit 1 Sign Language exam in a few hours and I haven't done a single jot of revision or practise. I mean, it comes pretty easy to me anyway, but still! I should've PRACTISED!!! Why the HELL didn't I practise with Joe??!

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Current Mood: nervous
Current Music: "Poker Face" - Lady Gaga

All fired up

2009-07-07T10:25:00.000-07:00

Dear Diary,

Last night was absolutely fan-frigging-tastic! BUT to make more sense, I must go back to Sunday evening.

So, as you may or may not know, Sunday evening was spent lounging off my drunkeness, watching last week's Corrie and thinking about how happy the sticky toffee pudding from the party made me. And then - rather surprisingly - I got a text off Kyle: "Can we Skype soon? I miss you!" Half an hour later and we were away. I forgot how much I missed him too. We talked about Jacko's death, both still completely unable to fathom it, talked about his work and what the funeral on Tuesday would be like. Bit of trivia for you - if it wasn't for Michael Jackson, Kyle and I probably wouldn't have become friends. We were sat next to each other in one of the first lectures of first year, and as he put his phone away, I saw the infamous "Thriller" zombie picture as his screensaver. I asked him to send it me, we got talking, and you know the rest. Good times.

After the usual (me moaning about being jobless and without job), Kyle put forward an idea - to do a Tarot card reading for me. I was feeling skeptical, until I remembered the last time I went to his - he had done one, sat on his bed, around the subject of me finding chemistry and romance with any potential suitors (bear in mind this was AFTER the first date with Joe). And a week later - well, you know the story by now. So I said yes. This time, it was based around me finding work. His conclusion (and the card's) was thus: that past issues were holding me back and delaying me from moving forward in my life. Fair enough.

So in a fantastic spirit of righteous vengeance and putting-the-world-to-rights-ness, yesterday evening I lit a fire in the BBQ outside, and - with the help of a Reiki CD and my most "goddess-y" dress - ritualistically burnt every single token, memento, souvenir and reminder of Aaron. Everything. Sadly, was too afraid of neighbours to do any particularly exorcising/goddess dancing, but I threw in some Rosemary (we didn't have Sage) and gazed into the flames. Dad came out, told me "it's all for the best, kid. Your new life starts here," and that he was proud of me. I watched as bus tickets, meal receipts, cinema tickets, Ann Summers "Sex Cheques" and a map of the local park (where I first had "outdoors-sex") all went up in deeply satisfying naked flame. Last but not least, I threw on a handmade Christmas card he made me. His name - and kisses - were the last things to burn out.

As I watched, there seemed to be one last tiny struggling flame, still going on it's own - and I thought about how similar this was to me. However much I denied it over the past year, I was still carrying a tiny torch, there was still a little flame I had for him - however cunt-ishly he behaved. I still missed him, and despite overwhelming odds, I still might've considered if he came back. But not anymore. That part of my life was over. And just as I was thinking this, the flame finally went out.

I swear, you couldn't write this stuff.

Now I just feel happy, like a weight has been lifted. And excited. I also deleted his phone number, email address, and removed him from my Facebook friends (christ only knows why I still have all those things).
In other news, Joe told me of an admin position opening up at his job, so have applied with gusto and aplomb. I can feel it, somehow, that everything is finally going to be alright. This job is MINE!!!

Tonight should be fun - it's Lisa's birthday tomorrow, so tonight I'm taking Joe to meet her and Mike (her boyfriend) for a pub tea. It's also Michael Jackson's funeral. Eeep. Not entirely sure how bad it's going to be. But knowing him - or what we've learnt of him over the years - it will surely be a spectacular show.

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Current Mood: still fired up and positive from yesterday
Current Music: "Work" - Kelly Rowland (Freemason's Mix)

Looooooong weekend

2009-07-06T15:44:00.001-07:00

Dear Diary,

Oh, what a fun weekend. Although sometimes it's really frustrating being someone's girlfriend when they work every single day, but I suppose that's what life's like when you're chronically unemployed. Or that's what life is like, full stop. Hmmm..... I still have much to learn.

Friday night was pretty good - Shaun and his friends were off into town for a celebratory "let's get my millions of friends to come out and buy me drinks as a reward for simply coming home!" knees-up, which I was invited to. Sadly, during the day, Shaun took me aside and thoughtfully confided in me that he didn't think I'd have that much fun, I'd hardly know any of his friends, and that "for my own good," maybe I shoudn't go. How thoughtful he is! But I'd already arranged for Joe to pick me up in town, so after a "friendly" conversation, he deigned to come pick me up in a taxi after drinking games at his mate's house. And Dad helpfully left the taxi money with meeeee. HA!

Naturally, by 9pm, Shaun had completely forgotten to come and get me, so was left to trudge round embarrassedly to his mate's house - where I was pulled in and invited to join in an impromptu game of "On the Bus"..... and came to the shocking conclusion that there are in fact drinking games I haven't heard of yet. Have you ever heard of "Womanizer"? It's like "Roxanne" but the backing music is a Britney Spears song as opposed to the famous Sting one, and.... well, you get the gist. Yikes.

Eventually we bundled into a taxi, but by the time we got to town and Shaun had dumped me at the meeting point, I was infected by that wonderful atmosphere that just hangs in the air on a night out. People were spilling in and out of pubs, the background noise is happy chatter, and the very oxygen seems to want to join the party. By the time Joe rocked up I was in no mood to leave just yet so we vanished into the pub Shaun had gone in. So, they've finally met each other. Shaun was effortlessly cool - inviting Joe for a "kick-about" some time (what?? Since when does Shaun do "kick-abouts"??!) and not mentioning any of his previous "if-he-hurts-you-I'll-take-a-plank-of-wood-to-his-head" threats. Joe was similarly fab, inviting Shaun for a "drink sometime" and asking about his travels. Extremely proud of both of them!

After a while, we drove (well, HE drove, both of us driving would be impossible) back to his, stopping off for important supplements, such as Ben and Jerry's, wine, beer, and a kick-ass take-away pizza. We are NEVER going to lose weight at this rate. But fuck it, I was already semi-drunk and in my head, everything was excuseable. We watched "Drop Dead Fred," marvelling at The Rik Mayall (have you read his autobiography? It's sheer brilliance), had sex and fell asleep. Although bearing in mind that his brother recently told Joe he could "hear everything" - I was all paranoid and quiet. Which then led to worries of "Shit, what if he thinks I'm not enjoying it?" Ah, the perils of thinking during sex, I really should try and stop it. The trouble is, I spend more time thinking and worrying about it that I always forget to just let go and enjoy it.......

SATURDAY

Saturday morning came, Joe once again having to drag my lazy white arse out of bed to drop me off home - he had a football trial to get to. Shaun was badly hungover, something I took great delight in pointing out - frequently and loudly. The day was quite boring really, just killing time till Lisa's birthday do in the evening. It was originally Laser Quest, but the recent heatwave seemed to render it a bad idea, so a meal was decided instead. Which was LOVELY, and really good fun to see both Lisa and Alice again. After a fair bit of walking and being turned away from various busy places, we opted for a Chinese, and DAMN, I don't think I've ever had such a good one. Obvoiusly take-aways are nice, but this was the first time I'd ever tried dim-sum. Or a Lazy Susan, which I got stupidly over-excited about.

Afterwards we trekked back to Lisa's Mum's house (where she's staying whilst back from London. Lisa, that is, not her mum) - Alice and I were both staying over - and chatted till the sun came up. Or tried to, were it not for a knackered Alice passing out every 5 minutes - so we called it a day.

SUNDAY

Sunday was also pretty fun. This has been a good weekend! Actually, I don't know why I'm suprised at that - between being an unemployed dossing lazy douchebag and doing my 4 hours of work a week, the weekend's usually the only chance to let of a bit of steam, hang out with Joe and basically avoid Mum firing questions at me. God, what would I be doing if I HADN'T met Joe? The thought scares me. I'd probably have killed myself by now. Or realistically, gone a little bit insane but repressed it all like I usually do, until it erupted in a massive tumour or something 30 years later. Yikes.

Had to be home early, so Alice dropped me off - after fine-arse sausage butties, thanks to Lisa. God, I don't half miss them while they're away (not JUST because of the butties), it's so nice to re-connect, even if it's only once in a while! Sigh..... Anyway, Sunday was Shaun and James's Welcome Home party, which we had to prepare. Which was why we were schlepping up tp James's at 12 oclock. Sadly, I had a certain monthly visitor, which meant that - despite me realising how idiotic I was being - nothing look right, I looked too fat, there was a stain on this dress, this wasn't ironed, those shoes don't match.... etc, etc. Ended up in a massive blazing row with Mum who was trying to get us all out the house as soon as possible - she suggested these shoes, I said they didn't match the tights, she said I should take them off, I refused to wear no tights with a skirt whilst on the rag, etc... etc.... which erupted into a huge fight (Shaun loudly taking my side and procclaiming I could dress myself - god love him). So, THAT was a fun car journey, mostly spent in huffy silence.

Even worse was the moment when Mum and Shaun jumped out at a local Tesco to grab some stuff. Dad just turned around, saying that people like Mum were the reason kids left home so early, just to get away from the continual nagging, and he couldn't blame me for wanting to leave, or Shaun for wanting to travel. And whilst I was glad he was on my side, like he always is, I couldn't help feeling a little sad that he was so opposed to his wife like that. And then I started wondering what would happen if Shaun and I DID move out. Would they divorce? Who knows. I'm past wondering by now. It's a little bit like watching "Titanic," you know what's going to happen, but you still hold out a little hope that things will work out.

Not to mention Joe couldn't make it to the party after all, which depressed me even further. Apparently his mum has once again nabbed the keys to his car and taken it for a first-gear-all-the-way drive. Whilst pissed. The engine's completely decked, and he can't sort it till he gets paid next week - which means he's understandably angry and upset, and not in a party mood. Fair enough. I just wanted to give him a cuddle to cheer him up, but had to busy myself making guacamole, putting photos up on the walls and watching the men barbeque-ing items (but never doing it myself, christ no).

The party was fun, I guess. Most of the time people just crammed in the kitchen watching the never-ending Wimbledon final, or in the lounge watching Shaun throw his all into the kareoke section of "Guitar Hero," which was pretty hilarious. But there was no-one my age there, I didn't really fancy hanging out with James's sister's tarted-up friends, and I was getting pretty fed-up of explaining to every adult that asked why I wasn't a published writer (or indeed an employed person) yet. All I could think was that this was all time wasted that I could've spent with Joe. We see each other so little as it is. Now, obviously, this weekend, I have no problem with Lisa's birthday do, or the fact that Joe had a footie trial. But I've seen Shaun about 3 hours in total since he came back - he so clearly would rather hang out with his friends, and he doesn't even try to deny it. So all I could think was "Why the fuck am I here?"

And worse still, I couldn't even text Joe to bitch about it, or gain/offer some crumbs of comfort, as my phone battery died. I was stuck at that party with no-one to talk to, a weary smile plastered on my face, and an impending feeling that I was being ridiculously over-dramatic about the whole thing. So I did the most reasonable thing I could think of - I got wasted. A bottle and a half of wine and two pints of cider later, Mum took me home. Not quite sure why, as I wasn't being OUTWARDLY drunk, but I think she could tell I was having a shit time. Dad came too. Once Mum dropped us off and drove back to the party to clear up, we relaxed - I got in my jimjams, he stuck on the races, and all was good again.

Oh, and Kyle, who I've not spoken to for AGES, Skyped and we had a lovely (not to mention very intrigueing) catch-up. But that's for another day.....

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P.S: Joe's trial went very well, he's been asked back on Tuesday. Apparently he had to get up to Level 12 in a Bleep Test. As I recall, in High School, I nearly passed out at Level 6.

Current Mood: ponder-some
Current Music: "Knock 'em out" - Lily Allen

Return of the Long Lost Little Brother

2009-07-03T06:37:00.000-07:00

Dear Diary,

My apologies, dear hearts, for not blogging Tuesday, Wednesday or yesterday - I'm really being very lazy with my blogging at the moment. Which, obviously, is ridiculous, as I technically do nothing. But then again, that usually means I have nothing to tell you. Well, what can I talk about that is fascinating and interesting?

Tuesday was pretty terrible. Joe was supposed to be coming round to watch "Saw 2" but turned up again in a sulky, temper-ific mood. More problems at home, apparently, which meant that he couldn't fully focus or concentrate on the intricate workings of Jigsaw's fiendish mind - and suggested we went out for a drink/meal instead. We opted for Pizza Hut, and by god, it was like taking a TODDLER out. Seriously. During the course of the meal he shot me with his straw "laser gun," played the straw "flute," conducted the background music with his straw "baton" - and then asked the waiter at the end if he had any more straws he could take home and play with. He's 25.

So, I went home, all pissed off and frustrated. To his credit, he acknowledged he was being incredibly childish, and deduced that him regressing into his child-state was probably an adverse reaction to the troubles at home. I suddenly felt extremely guilty for being such a judgemental bitch. It's not as if I'M the most mature person in the world......

Wednesday was boring. Had a shift at work that went quite well - £7 tips! Made a mental note to wear a skirt and show off my legs more (thank you heatwave).

Thursday was spectacularly wonderful. Why, I hear you ask? Because it was the day Shaun FINALLY returned from his 6 months travelling. 4pm found us all gathered in the airport, me conspicuously clutching a "Welcome Home!" helium balloon. Well, through the door they finally came. I lifted him off his feet and fought the urge to join Mum in the weeping. Rather annoyingly he spent all evening hanging out with his friends in his bedroom (after a giant-ass Chinese Mum bought) but it was brilliant to have him home. And he LOVED the collage I made him and stuck up on his bedroom wall. To clarify - I printed the best of his holiday photos off Facebook, cut them into postcards, laminated them, and arranged them on his wall. It took about 8 hours over 2 days, but by George I did it. And felt a slight twinge of pride as he excitedly exclaimed over it all.

Had to rush off to Deaf Class after returning from the airport, but it was fun - mainly cos half the class (the annoying half) were away on holiday, so we just practised for the exam (which is next week - *gulp*) and Joe took me straight home afterwards. And I learned how to sign the word "vibrator." In all fairness, it was during a conversation about my previous job at Ann Summers, and the mime is pretty much as you would expect to be. Truth be told, I got a tad carried away and started miming the "end" swirling clockwise. Fun times!

So Shaun is home, and all is right with the world. We went for breakfast at Mum's shop this morning. I discovered that MJ's last rehearsal video has been leaked (crikey, he's still got it. Although the little smile at the end breaks my heart, considering what's coming.....).
I'm also going to Joe's tonight to cheer him up (hopefully). Wish me luck!

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Current Mood: sneezy

Current Music: "Whiter Shade of Pale" - Procum Harem

Swimming, Saw and Scran

2009-06-29T17:21:00.001-07:00

Dear Diary,

Yesterday was frankly, FANTASTIC. Following the glowing success of my picnic and a shift battling through hayfever for a hard-earned £8 of tips - I woke up yesterday to Mum telling me they were both out all afternoon, and if I wanted, I could invite Joe round and cook some tea.
Goddamit, why does she ALWAYS have the best ideas??! Grr..... Still, it beat watching TV and eating ice (the country is in something of a heatwave at the moment).

It was fun. We went to Tesco to buy ingredients - and I'm ashamed to say I had a brief moment of "Oooh, look at me, shopping for ingredients with my boyfriend like a grown-up!" But Joe was beaming; the pressures of Friday's family life had clearly lifted, and he was happy as Larry again (as was I when he picked up some Ben and Jerry's). However, I recently learnt one highly disconcerting fact - that, despite being a huge fan of horror films, he HAS NOT SEEN ANY OF THE "SAW" FILMS. Holy Christ. I have to sit down just READING that sentence. How can you be a horror fan, and NOT have seen the best, most original and gruesome concept to come out of Hollywood and span a 6-PICTURE DEAL in years??! Mortified by this, I decided it was high time to rectify the situation. And with the 6th and final film in the "Saw" franchise being released on my BIRTHDAY (MY BIRTHDAY!!!!) this year, I made an educated decision to initiate him - and made it my duty to show him all 5 "Saw" films so far before October.

So, with the chips safely in the oven and the chicken marinating, we snuggled down in front of "Saw." It was strange going back to the start - I'm so used to watching the others so frequently that I sometimes forget just how brilliant and fresh the original is. Especially watching it considering what you now know from the following films! Sweet. We paused it to go finish tea - I've got to say, as fiercely independant as I normally am in the kitchen, it was nice to have some help. Although he did, in an appraising sort of voice, say I was a "good little housewife." Eeeeep. Never mind being filled with feminist indignation, I was a little worried at the unsexiness of the word "housewife," above anything else. But I was reassured as we munched down on pittas stuffed with herb-smothered chicken with chips and dill yoghurt (my signature dish). Followed by Ben and Jerry's. Yeah. I watched him out the corner of my eye, but he didn't even bat an eyelid at the shock twist at the end. Hmmm..... clearly a seasoned veteran I'm dealing with here. Oh well. Maybe the "Needle Pit" trap in the 2nd film will get him......

Afterwards we stuck "Mr. Bean" on and retired upstairs for a little cheeky fumbling - which is EXACTLY when Mum and Dad decided to come home. GODDAMIT!! (I know, I know, should've done it the minute Mum and Dad left for the afternoon instead of leaving it till late - I'm such a cretin sometimes, it's unbelievable) I practically threw Joe into the bathroom and vaulted down the stairs, all my clothes in place, but all breathless and sweaty (thank SHIT for the the heatwave - valid excuse). Joe and parents made pleasant conversation, Joe enthusiastically backing up my crazy cooking skills (YES!!) and general blah-di-blah before leaving.

We decided to try and both become more fit and lose weight (he's going to try joining a football team again) so have decided to go swimming every Monday. Just got back tonight - I won't exactly say it was fun, repeatedly swimming clockwise in lengths and getting bashed by those who did whenever I stopped for a rest. Not to mention I've BADLY fallen behind, considering I used to be a fantastic swimmer. But it was ace to get back in the water, practice my diving (I've still got it) and accidentally-on-purpose giving Joe a boner in the deep end before swimming away. Fun times!

And then we went and destroyed all that hard work with a curry. But fuck it, it was worth it.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Current Mood: chlorine-riddled
Current Music: "Aint no sunshine" - Jackson 5

The Aftermath

2009-06-27T17:56:00.001-07:00

Dear Diary,

I still feel in a bit of a daze. Nothing seems real, somehow. I keep waiting for the papers to announce that this is some sick hoax, but as the days have gone on, and the journalists have gone from cynical haters to adoring fans through the process of Death - I'm forced to believe it.

It was horrible. I went to Deaf Class on Thursday as normal, and, as a result of getting my results, Joe took me out for a celebratory drink and curry (which is becoming a worryingly frequent occurance - BUT I JUST CAN'T SAY NO!!) He'd brought me a Congratulations card and a pink fuzzy "Mr. Messy" toy, which was very cute, not to mention unexpected. So, we were sat in the Indian, having a rare old time, when I hear Michael Jackson's name being mentioned at a nearby table. Before I could even START eavesdropping, Joe got a text from his mate, simply saying; "Michael Jackson has died of a heart attack." Obviously, I didn't believe it, and just assumed it was a sick rumour that was going around. I asked the other table and the waiters about it - and then got texts from Lisa and Kyle (the source on all things MJ). I went slightly faint, but still refused to believe it. And suddenly lost my appetite. Joe seemed slightly pissed off by this and offered to take me home "so you can watch the news, if that's what you want." Ouch.

So, he took me home, where I sat flicking through all 8 Sky news channels, trying desperately not to focus on the enormous "BREAKING NEWS: MICHAEL JACKSON IS DEAD" headlines scrolling mercilessly along the screen in black, white and red. By 3am I was fixated on CNN, convincing myself that because they were the only channel NOT to confirm his death, they were right.

By 4am I had given up all hope and was forced to concede, despite my numb body telling me that it was all still a huge joke. I went to bed, stuck my Ipod on (a little going-to-bed ritual these days) and would you believe it - "Will you be there" followed by "Gone too Soon." Christ. I sobbed my heart out for a solid hour, soaking the pillow and crying till I ached, but somehow, I couldn't turn it off. It was the only song that seemed appropriate, the only song that captured the unbelievable, shocking reality of a life cut short - especially one so dazzling, wonderful and utterly incredible (not that ALL life isn't important, etc... etc....). Not to mention the song was sung by MJ himself - put his angelic voice over those glorious heart-aching melodies and it's pretty much perfect. If you've never heard it, have a listen.

I'll certainly have more to say about this at a later date, but for the time being, I'm still as numb as an ice cube on crack. Mum couldn't understand why I was so upset, since I'd never met him (right..... I'm willing to bet she cried at Diana's funeral though) and I was FURIOUS at Joe for being so dismissive of my grief over someone I was so passionate about. But at the moment, I suppose I can console myself with the fact that he's at least at peace now. I bet Heaven was rocking within 3 minutes of him arriving. He'll be duetting with James Brown right now in a replica of the 02 made of clouds, in front of an audience of angels......

FRIDAY

Friday was tough. Firstly I didn't hear from Joe all bastard day, so naturally I got all stressed and panicky, wondering if I'd ruined his evening. Second, he seemed to completely blow me off when he DID get in touch, telling me he'd be working late, etc... etc... Naturally, total woman-stress ensued - "what does this mean, is he really pissed off?" etc... Also totally unfair since I'd planned an amazing picnic in Yorkshire on Saturday, and wanted to surprise him, which might be difficult if he was still pissed off with me. Well, 'scuse the hell out of me for being upset that my favourite artist and all-time legend and soundtrack to our LIVES died before we could witness his amazing comeback. Or died, full stop. Grrr....

Anyways, he eventually came round (literally and figuratively). It was pretty hard making the transition from squinty-eyed sobbing wreck to frolicking sex kitten, but it only took 3 hours of showering, shaving and extensive make-up before the evidence of my 5-hour news-watching-and-tear-crying fest disappeared. Turns out his mum (who I haven't met, but is by all accounts a destructive alky and abusive bitch) has started another enormous row at home - hence, he didn't want to take me there straightaway. So, he drove me up into the hills. Which was enormous fun, zooming like a bat out of hell down wending lanes, barely exchanging more than 2 words every 5 minutes with an angry, silent driver. Wasn't feeling too sexy (or indeed, happy) by this point, but I stuck it out, desperately starting conversations, pointing out interesting trees and even attempting a handjob (which apparently isn't safe AND doesn't work while driving).

Eventually returned to his, armed and cheered up by Tesco pizzas, which we scranned down on in front of "The IT Crowd." With wine. Instant recipe for a happy Joe! Must remember this for future reference - although it is quite hard when someone's so grumpy and you're trying to cheer them up. I know I'm an extrodinarily lazy person, but I hope our relationship isn't ALWAYS going to be about me desperately trying to take him out of his rage. Shit, I make him sound like a psycho. It's not the case at all, truth be told it's his MUM who seems to be the psycho - and upsets him because of it. He doesn't want to introduce me to her, and frankly, I don't WANT to meet her. God knows what I would say, she sounds utterly horrible. Oh well. I've met his dad. He's nice, and has hair like Einstein. Anyhow, I told him (Joe, that is) how the car ride scared me slightly, so he apologised, and promised to release his anger in a less alarming way next time. One of which we put into practice eventually - Mmmm..... angry sex......

SATURDAY

Which brings us to today. Having spent the last of this week's wages in various Tesco's, I had pulled together a marvellous picnic (although not so marvellous that I remembered actual sandwiches..... oops) and stored it in Joe's fridge overnight. We took it to Yorkshire (with the help of SatNav) and - truth be told, I had the perfect past holiday destination in mind. Until we got there and realised we were ONE QUID short for the carpark, with nary a cash machine for miles. Dispirited, we drove down the road till we reached a hotel, so we pitched up under a tree instead. Could've been worse really! Well, I SAY that..... we were in a field, which - despite my frequent medication - set me off sneezing almost immediately. But other than that, it was fun. We munched our elaborate picnic, Joe watched a nearby cricket game, I read my book. I chased him round the field for taking the piss out of me. He fell asleep and I put my head under the spare blanket singing "Ain't no sunshine" to protect (and distract) me from the pollen. All in all quite a good day!

Well it WOULD be if I didn't have work tonight! Grr..... Oh well. EXTRA SHIFTS, Y'ALL!!!

LESSONS LEARNT TODAY:

To cheer men up, all you need is food, comedy dvds, alcohol and sex

I knew that.....

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Current Mood: hayfeverish to the point of DEATH

Current Music: "You are not alone" - Michael Jackson. Eeep.

(no subject)

2009-06-25T16:20:00.000-07:00

Holy fuck, please dont let it be true. Please for the love of all that is good and holy, don't let it have happened. It can't be true. Michael Jackson does not just DIE. That's not what he does. For fuck's sake, he's ALWAYS there!! He's not the kind of person who goes like that.

This is a sick hoax, it's got to be. Sat in front of Sky, Fox, CNN and BBC news, waiting for confirmation. It won't be confirmed. It can't be. This will surely be one of those mental rumours - like the time everyone thought Paul Buchannan or Shakira was dead. Because Michael Jackson does not DIE. It'll be exhaustion, a heart attack brought on from exhaustion during rehearsals or something. Seriously - he won't leave us. How fucking much has he been through in the last decade? And he's still hanging!

Seriously though, I wish all the stations would take down the "MICHAEL JACKSON IS DEAD" in big red and black letters. CNN have just said it ISN'T confirmed, for christ's sake!!!! They'll save him, surely. They HAVE to.

4:12am - It's been confirmed. Actually, it was confirmed hours ago. I've sat flicking through 8 news channels all night, but they're all saying the same thing - and despite the voice in my head that keeps telling me to ignore it all, it seems it really is true. He's gone. Completely and irrevocably. Forever.
I'm going to bed. I hope to GOD this was all a big elaborate nightmare.

Oh Happy Day!

2009-06-25T16:09:00.001-07:00

Dear Diary,

FINALLY!! Finally after waiting 4 days more than I should have, my results are through. My uni results. You may or may not be glad to hear that I, after re-sits, re-enroling and toiling, am now the proud owner of a Second-Class degree!! Although I strangely don't feel all that bothered about it to be honest - I've been waiting to hear so long, I've sorta took it for granted that I passed. Ach, well. I have an actual official degree! Yes, it's a "Lower Second" (2:2) and yes my re-submitted work turned out to be shit despite all the effort I put in over the summer. But fuck it, to quote the wonderful Jez from "Peep Show" - "I didn't go to uni to get a degree!"

Today I had a revelation. Just as I was sinking into my usual mid-afternoon lethargic "Oh my god, everything is really quite shit, still" state of rubbishness, something clicked in my mind and I realised something. Quite a few things, actually.

Whilst being "technically" unemployed, I still have a regular job and income (even if it's small).
I live with my loving (if not nagging) parents who have not yet kicked me out.
Therefore: I have a roof over my head and I don't have to pay everytime I want to wash or eat stuff.
I have an actual real boyfriend who not only doesn't care that I'm a jobless slacker, but also isn't scared of my strange mannerisms, finds my weird laugh hilarious, and embraces my kinky side (forgot to mention, he's found a very exciting website to look at - Collaredncuffed.com - something to think about!).
I have a degree.
I've had so many extra shifts this week that I have LOADS of wages coming through next week.
Therefore, can almost DEFINATELY afford to go see Michael Jackson at the O2, not only LIVE, not only for the last time ever (possibly) but also on the same day as Kyle - not to mention engaging in a hotel/London extravaganza!

So yeah, having had this revelation, I've come to the - if somewhat brief and fleeting - conclusion that, so far, Life is SWEET. I don't know what it is, but everything just finally feels like it's coming together for me at last. Maybe in 6 months I'll have a well-paid job and a flat! Maybe I'LL be able to take JOE out for once! (Although, I have organised a picnic for Saturday, and so far done ALL the preparation myself!) Maybe Jacko will release another album! A COMEBACK album! Maybe someone will finally write back to me, saying; "Kat, your script is magnificent. Please come work for us."

Maybe everything's going to be wonderful after all!!!!

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Current Mood: bouncy
Current Music: "Copecabana" - Barry Manilow

BEST. WEEKEND. EVER.

2009-06-22T17:43:00.000-07:00

Dear Diary,

Holy shit. You will not literally BELIEVE the weekend I've had. Seriously. I don't even believe it. It's like a dream, something from somebody else's life. Stuff like this doesn't happen to me whatsoever - and now it has. I feel exhilerated, lighter than air, and above all - happy. Actually, sack that, I am absolutely fucking THRILLED. And 'scuse all the French, but there is no possible other way I can express myself so vociferously. Never mind walks in the park, bunches of flowers, sex on the floor or cuddly nights in with DVDs and munchies - he has done it this time. Well and truly topped the bill. How else can I put it - This. is. the. MOTHER LOAD. The All Time High. Numero Uno. The Queen. Head of State. Casino Royale. The Godfather. Wait, what was I talking about? Oh yeah.

Where to begin? Well, FRIDAY afternoon of course......

So after a whole day's agonised pacing, pampering and re-packing, 4 oclock found me crouched on the bathroom floor, desperately trying to scrape hair removal cream off my legs with a spatula. Bloody "Veet." Word of advice - the only reason your legs end up so smooth is because you scratch them to shit trying to do it properly, and as for "Lotus and Jasmine" - try rancid fish that's been kept in an attic for a week. Still, for better or worse, it actually worked, my legs felt like silk (I know, cliche'ed. Actually had to fight the urge not to stroke them sensually, a' la adverts). I think they only become so smooth because you practically take the skin off your legs during the proceeds.

Mum dropped me off at the location in town - hindered by staggering amounts of roadworks, which left her in a towering temper, and me with only 1 minute to go till meeting. We speculated whilst sat in traffic what it could all be - she thought the lolly was a red herring, I joked that maybe he'd take me for a night in the Hilton. Eventually got dropped off at the square, which was ominously empty. I walked over with my suitcase, lolly in hand, and frankly, a little nervous. And then I saw him. With the Landlady's fierce warnings of; "Kat, love, you'd better fucking text me the MINUTE you find out what that lolly's for!" ringing in my head, I trailed over, waving and smiling. I presented the lolly like a trophy. He broke into a grin, took the lolly and turned around. I watched, heart pounding, as he turned to face a building behind me, gave a strange sort of signal, murmured; "Any minute now".....................................................

............... and then unwrapped the lolly, put it in his mouth, turned back round and said "Cheers. Let's go." Can you BELIEVE that??! It WAS a red herring!! I ran after him, shrieking, demanding explanations and whacking him with my spare hand, while he smiled and protested that "it DID serve a purpose" - because he just really really wanted a lolly. BASTARD!! I fished another out of my handbag and stomped along, furiously sucking (that sounds so dodgy) and muttering how he didn't quite seem to understand the magnitude of what he'd done, how long I'd spent madly pondering the meaning of the lolly - enlisting friends, family and employers to help.

As we rounded the corner, we passed the aforementioned Hilton. I had no idea how close it was to the city centre I knew so well - I'd never had any reason to visit this part of town before. As we gazed into the sky, trying to see the top of the building (impossible), I told Joe (mainly to take my mind off lollipop-related fury) how it's always the first thing you see when you re-enter the city, and on all those coach journeys home, I used to stare out the window at it and wonder if I'd ever become sucessful enough as an actor/scriptwriter to be able to spend just one night there. Even though I knew it was an impossible dream, but still, a nice one, nontheless. He nodded seriously as we walked past the foyer, able to stare into the lobby through the glass. And then, without missing a beat, he turned to me and said; "Well, shall we go in then?" I laughed, saying there was no WAY a place like that would let two scruffy people in just to explore. Straight-faced, he looked dead at me, and proclaimed: "They will if you have a room."
...........................................................................

Just to reiterate:

Joe. Booked a room. For us. For one night. At The HILTON.

THE HILTON.

THE HOTEL!!!

THE REALLY FAMOUS WORLDWIDE INCREDIBLY POSH ONE!!!

A NIGHT!!

AT THE MOTHERFUCKING HILTON!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Can you fucking BELIEVE IT!!???!! I certainly couldn't. I stood there, gaping like a fish, as wave after wave of goosebumps crashed over me at the enormity of it all, unable to feel anything in my arms and legs. I asked if he was taking the piss, he smiled and held the door open. Numbly, I followed him, still (naeive, I know) waiting for him to turn round and say "Nah, I was actually just kidding. It was another red herring. Gotcha!" We walked up to the check-in point, and when he uttered the words; "Hi, I've got a reservation under the name of......" I damn near fainted. I stood staring at my incredible surroundings, mouth gracefully hanging open as the friendly receptionist smiled at my look of stunned disbelief, whispered; "Surprise was it, Sir?" and gave us our room key.

It was incredible. The lift travelled 8 floors in literally 3 seconds. He flung open the door to reveal a stunning, spacious room with HD ready (HD READY!!!), a double bed with feather duvet and about 16 pillows, a huge glorious painting of a wild flower, a glass coffee table, little armchair, green lamps, and most importantly - the most amazing view over the city I've ever seen. I rushed in like a charging bull, flattening myself against the window, screaming and taking in the surroundings. Joe laughed as I ran from room to bathroom, exclaiming over everything and touching nothing (I was scared to, if I'm honest). He joined me at the window where we gazed out, me saying idiotic things like "Look at those people down there. They're not in the Hilton! And WE ARE!!" and burbling about how stunned I was and how I simply couldn't believe it. I kissed him for about 25 solid minutes, thanking him every 3, and trying to hide the fact that I was on the brink of tears that someone would do this for me.

He seemed remarkably un-fazed by it all, to be honest. When I questioned him, asking what would prompt such a staggering, unbe-fucking-lievable gesture like this, he just shrugged and said he "wanted to treat me." He said I seemed so fed-up and miserable about being at home, being unemployed, Mum pecking my head constantly and being ill (hayfever and cystitis?? Hardly flu, is it?), and he wanted to take me away from it all for a night so I could relax, forget it all and enjoy myself. He also mentioned how shittily my ex treated me, and he wanted to show me that I deserve to be treated like a lady. When I asked why he didn't just whisk me away to a Travelodge or Premier Inn, he replied: "Well, if we're gonna do something like this, we might as well do it in style!" Jesus Christ. Is he LOADED or something?? And just as I was thinking this, he said; "By the way, didn't you see the present I requested?" and stepped aside to reveal a bucket on the desk filled with ice, two champagne flutes, and a bottle of Nicholas Feuillatte.

I think, Ladies and Gentlemen, at this point, I actually did go a little faint and had to go sit on the bed. For about 2 seconds, before I leaped up to partake in the champagne, which was actual real champagne, not even the Cava you get at Tescos! This was incredible. Presumably I missed it, as I whirled into the room, trying to see everything at once. We drank and gazed out at the view. Mum rang to find out what the lolly was for ("See! I TOLD you it was a red herring!") and to shriek and gasp as I had the old "Oh-my-god-Mum-you-won't-believe-where-I-am-right-now-remember-what-I-joked-about-in-the-car-that-one-in-a-million-chance-idea-well-it-actually-came-true-yes-that's-right-I'm standing-in-a-room-in-the-motherfucking-Hilton-drinking-champagne-and-overlooking-the-city!!!!!" conversation, Joe laughing his arse off in the background.

We hung out for a bit, (me still in shock) talking about the place and what it had to offer - using the telephones (there were THREE!!!) to call reception or room service for the tiniest, most pointless enquiries, just because we COULD. I fought the urge to jump on the bed and bounce around, so bounced around the room instead. We found out the place had a SWIMMING POOL, so after mopping up the mess after my head exploded, we trailed downstairs to check it out. Had to buy a cossie, but the pool was gorgeous, like swimming in a mill pond made of milk (but not, obviously, smelling of milk, that would be gross). I popped up and down out of the pool to wave at traffic below - Joe pointed out the buildings we could see and what they were. I floated dreamily down the length of the pool on my back, staring up through the glass ceiling at the rest of the Hilton and wondering what the hell I was doing there, as if it was the most normal thing in the world for a girl like me to be in a place like that. We jumped into the Jacuzzi, me batting away his underwater advances (there was a security camera pointed at us) and gazed, laughing, at the pedestrians below, pointing out how none of them were in a jacuzzi in the Hilton and we were.

Back in our room we took the rest of the champagne into the shower (cliche'ed I know, but fuck it, you HAVE to do that in the Hilton!) and got ready for Phase 2 - which was a trip to a local concert hall to see a huge orchestra perform classical music! Didn't have time to straighten my hair (the chlorine fucked it up) but Joe looked gorgeous in his black tie, and I was confident that my dress and ALL Mum's borrowed stuff looked OK. At least I could walk in the shoes - which is more than can be said for MY shoe collection...... The orchestra were stunning, and as I sat with my eyes closed, listening to the sweeping melodies, I felt - there's only one word for it - chuffed. Beyond all belief.

We got back to the hotel about quarter to ten, where Joe revealed Phase 3 (the final phase) - dinner in the Hilton restaurant. Which apparently has a very strict dress code, hence the dress and black tie. I squealed excitedly, stuck the Music Channel on and helped finish the champagne - whilst attempting to body-pop and dance around an amused Joe, singing loudly along to Usher's "Caught up." We strutted downstairs at 10, looking very dapper and potentially classy - were I not figeting like crazy and saying "WOW!!" at everything. The restaurant was absolutely BEAUTIFUL, all dim lights, lovely tables and stunning ceilings. We were seated by a waiter who brought us Rose' wine, I (very expertly, I'd like to think) did the whole wine-inhalation before sipping. We never topped our own glasses up once. God, that waiter was fab. Had a slightly embarrassing moment when it came to the obligatory toast:

ME: "To the Hilton!"
HIM: "To you."

ME: "Oh sorry, and to you too, of course!"

Smooth (*smacks head*). But holy fuck-a-luck-a-ding-dong, wait till you hear what I had to eat. For starters: Scallop with creamy califlower sauce and rocket, Main Course: Half Lobster (LOBSTER!!) with potato wedges and garlic mayonaise. Dessert: A prim square of chocolate mousse so rich it had it's own postcode, and a scoop of peanut ice-cream. Obviously, everything came on small, pretentious little square plates and was very artfully arranged. But my god and sonny Jesus, it was exquisite. Had a brief moment of money-minded panic where I was torn over desperately wanting the lobster, but hating the idea of Joe handing over the equivalent of a few hours' wages on one course. But he urged me to do it, and "enjoy" myself. So I did. And I enjoyed it, from the moment I picked up my fork to the moment the lobster meat slid down my oesophagus (did I just spell that right? Sweet.......).

After dinner (which finished at midnight, eeep) we sauntered across the lobby, carrying our leftover glasses of wine, as we waltzed past the queue full of WAG-dressed schoolgirls (on some kind of do) all hoping to get the lift up to the executive lounge - where footballers etc.... hang out. As hotel guests, we could've easily jumped the queue, but at a rumoured £15 a cocktail and a welcoming room of our own waiting, we decided not to. Besides, the girls were all glaring at me for some reason. I'd like to think they were thinking:

"Mother of god, look at how stylishly that couple wear their elegance! Taking their wine up to their room - they must come here on a regular basis! I wish I could do that"

"Look at her dress...... wow. I wonder what it feels like to wear a dress that covers your thighs?"

But they were most likely thinking "Crikey, look at the size of her bottom!" or "Why isn't she wearing a WAG dress?? She mustn't be with us....."

Up in the room, after getting Room Service to bring some Diet Cokes, I decided to open the bag of "props" I packed, and finally give him a proper thank you. Even thought he insisted he wasn't doing all this for repayment, and even though I wanted to, what sprung to mind was that "Family Guy" Diamonds spoof - he booked me a room at the Hilton..... I pretty much HAD to. We eventually fell asleep at 4am (Mmmmm...... Hilton sex.....) in the comfiest bed known and created by all mankind. I know I've said this before, but this really was the mother load. Cream of the crop. Field of Dreams. Oh, let's not start all that again, the point is, it was like sleeping on a cloud. It would almost have been a dream come true, were it not for the snoring. A few pokes and staring straight into his eyes until he woke up (freaked out) seemed to work.

SATURDAY

Woke up knackered, but thrilled as I realised I was in a Hilton bed. We rolled around, moaning about how starving we were, and once again used the phone for the pointless expedition of finding out when breakfast finished (11am). Too tired and hungry to even CONTEMPLATE morning sex, we dragged ourselves out to go find solace in the "Extensive Buffet Breakfast" (which we couldn't stop saying). Naturally, it was incredible, fry-up food on one side, muffins and bread rolls on the other, cheeses, Nutellas and SMOKED SALMON on the other. Obviously, we went for the fry-up with smoked salmon and orange juice, talking poshly and spoof-commenting on the stock market(despite me knowing absolutely sweet fuck-all about it). All we needed was a Daily Telegraph!

Check-out was at midday. Was hoping for some belated morning-sex but by the time we'd speedily packed, polished off last night's wine and made the bed, it was 3 minutes to 12. I sighed and huffed, indignant at the thought of leaving our little haven forever, not wanting to go back to normal life. I asked Joe (who used to work in a hotel) what would happen if we just stayed in the room and refused to come out - he said we'd get a phone call, telling us to leave, and then a knock on the door. Ten past 12 came, and no phone call. We had a quickie (I dared him, and he never turns down a dare), half 12 came and still no phone call. We had another quickie (praying no-one outside would look up at our window and see Joe's bottom), quarter to 1 came and STILL no phone call. By now, we realised we were well and truly taking the piss, so sadly picked up our suitcases, took some pictures and left.

At the check-out desk, Joe handed his card over while I discreetly looked away and tried not to hear how much it was. Which, unfortunately, I did. But what surprised me was how small the final cost was. Well, not "small" but definately below what I expecting. I'd heard "a grand a night" rumours. Maybe this place wasn't so expensive after all! I looked across at Joe, who had an enormous grin on his face, but - when asked why - told me he'd "tell me outside." Once he collected 3 copies of VAT receipts and invoices and I'd gazed around for the last time at this palace away from city life, we left.

Once safely round the corner, he told me - excitedly showing the proof on all 3 copies of the bill, that they had FORGOTTEN TO CHARGE HIM FOR THE ROOM. Seriously!! The bill contained all the additional services - the cossie, the champagne, the restaurant meal, the room service, but nowhere, on ANY of those pieces of paper did it mention room cost. That's why he'd asked for 3 copies of the bill, to cover his back, should anyone ask about it. We went over every possible reason, but Joe knows how hotels work, and the fact remained - be it a computer error or a slightly dim recpetionist, we had essentially just spent a night in the Hilton for free and there was NOTHING they could do about it!!! We could've got an extra bottle of champagne! Or ice cream on room service! I suddenly felt a lot less guilty about the lobster.

Despite the slightly illegal feeling - and expecting someone to come running after us at any moment - we were walking on air, and practically bounced back to the city centre, squealing like teenage girls. Neither of us had a Father's Day present yet, so we decided to go shopping. In a glorious flash of inspiration the answer came to me - I got him several Led Zeppelin albums and a live DVD of one of their concerts. When he was younger Dad used to sit for hours on end and listen to the albums on his massive headphones (which probably explains his hearing aid now) - so I reasoned that now, with the help of me and Itunes, he could do the same on his Ipod. Good times!

Had quite a shocking moment when walking past Faith - I stopped to drool over the shoes in the window, in particular a fine black pair with dimantes on. Whilst bemoaning why exactly these shoes weren't in my life, Joe stepped up, looked at them and said "Why don't you try them on?" When I replied that my lack of funds were restricting me, he simply said "I'll treat you."

OK, WHAAAAAAAAAT???!! What on EARTH was going on?? First the Hilton, then the concert, now this?! Now, I suppose it would be understandable if a guy made all these gestures to get into a girl's pants. But he's already in my pants!! So, what in the name of all that is good and holy, is all this lavishing in aid of? At that point, I genuinely went a little dizzy and had to run to the nearest railing to support myself. I remember dimly recalling how Carrie fainted at the Russian guy's overwhelmingness on "Sex and the City" (not that I am for a SECOND comparing myself to Carrie - she's vile). I asked why he was doing all this for me, he (aside from joking about the money saved from the free room) said that he doesn't spend money on himself - apart from the odd drink with his mates - and it's nice to have someone to treat. Sound reasoning! I guess I shouldn't complain.

After trying the shoes on (which didn't fit anyway, grr....) we went for a Subway lunch. I'm gonna be the size of a fricking HOUSE at this rate. I fended off the Landlady trying to rope me into an evening shift and got a call from Marie, who I hadn't spoke to in AGES. Turns out she's completely over PrickTard ex and is now seeing a really nice lad. YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!!!After lunch we bobbed into Ann Summers, and managed to procure (with the money that would've gone on the shoes) a gorgeous new bra, stockings, a book, a DVD and a "Bondage Starter Kit." Weeeeeeeell, it IS on my list of "Things to Try before I'm 30" (why the frig haven't I written it down yet? I'll NEVER remember it!). And I've always been curious..... hehe.

Eventually we got the tram and went our separate ways, deciding to go back to his later. Got home and took a much-needed shower and nap, unpacked and put my new bra and stockings with matching knickers on, under an innocent outfit of joggers and t-shirt. Sadly, after watching "Little Britain" and "Kevin and Perry go Large" (classic) all evening, he yawningly told me he'd only had about 8 hours of sleep in the last two days and desperately needed sleep. Not even 2 ProPlus and the revealing of the sassy undergarments could keep him awake. Grrrrr......

SUNDAY

Sunday morning was FUN. Without giving too much away (as I kinda want to keep it to myself) - I got introduced, with the help of the kit, to the world of BDSM. He was surprisingly masterful at it! I've written down exactly what happened, only to be read by myself - as it was such an awesome experience, I don't really want to forget. I'd just rather no-one else read it, that's all. I'll just say - another 2 things can be struck off the "Before I'm 30" list.

Afterwards he dropped me home (after Subway AGAIN, yikes), and I gave Dad his presents, which he LOVED - immediately munching the chocolate and sticking on the DVD. Apparently Mum and Dad decided to have a little family "Father's day" BBQ, and told me I could invite Joe, so I did. Had a very lovely evening, listening to 60's and British music on Dad's ancient radio, munching barbeque and having a laugh.

Truly a perfect weekend. All I'll wondering is how the hell I'm gonna top that.....

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Current Mood: blissed out

Current Music: "Uninvited" - Freemason's

The Final Countdown.....

2009-06-18T16:58:00.000-07:00

Dear Diary,

Well, slap me twice and call me Betty. I've been offered extra shifts at the pub. Oh, HAPPY DAYS!!! I've already worked twice this week, now I've been called in again tonight and given work Sunday too. 4 shifts in one week! SWEET!

Luckily, this should give me time to think of a suitable Father's Day present for Dad - after 22 years of knowing the man, you would be right to assume that I should know what he likes by now. Well, I do. But I'm still baffled. Oh well, I shall muse upon it further at work - I get a lot of thinking done there......

On the Magical Mystery Tour front: Today's updates/clues (left via Voicemail) are as follows:

I must find a dress (one that would fall under "Black Tie" category) to be worn somewhere posh.
I will have time (and indeed, space) to change once we arrive at our destination.
Phase 3 has been confirmed.
There will be equipment to do my hair and iron my clothes.
I must therefore turn up in normal everyday scruffs.
I must bring an overnight bag.

Ooooooooooh!! It's all so damnably exciting!! I've been spending all week trying to eke more clues out and get him to spill the beans, but truth be told - I don't think I'd WANT to know now. The surprise factor is making it all the more delicious, especially since it's tomorrow. My guess is thus: (leaving out the lollipop, 'cos that is driving me INSANE) - judging from what he's said about "calling in favours" and overnight bags, I reckon he has a mate with a really nice city appartment who's going away for the weekend and letting us use it. And we may be going somewhere really posh to eat in the evening. Wow...... hope I'm right, that sounds FANTASTIC!!

Anyway, I spent all afternoon auditioning and rejecting dresses (too pink, won't hold boobs securely anymore, too short, too not-black-tie......) before settling on my black, curve-inducing, latin-frilled, cross-strapped high school prom dress, which I was thrilled to discover I could still get into - well, just. I'll have to breathe in ALL night, maybe discard wearing underwear, and team up with a dusky-green wrap to hid the bingo wings and man-shoulders. But, a pair of Mum's shoes, her beaded black clutch bag and some of her expensive jewellery (all of which I've promised to guard with my LIFE) later, and I was sorted! I'm pretty much packed and ready to go.

I'm so excited I can hardly sit still, much less focus on work tonight. Less than 24 hours to go......

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Current Mood: full of beans
Current Music: "Shame for you" - Lily Allen

The Magical Mystery Tour begins.....

2009-06-17T08:03:00.000-07:00

Dear Diary,

Something exciting (and vaguely alarming) has happened. Joe gave me a ring yesterday (not that kind, it's only been a month!) to tell me that he in fact had something planned. As in, a magical, mystery, actually executed plan, with STAGES, missions and clues. How amazing! I find myself both highly intrigued (and a little turned on, to be honest) at the thought of what he has up his sleeve. So far, he has revealed nothing, apart from these 4 pinpoints:

If pulled off, this will be a spectacular surprise. If one thing goes wrong, the whole thing will be completely ruined

Phases 1 + 2 out of 3 have already been confirmed

It is apparently something I have mentioned in passing, that I really want to do.

I must meet him at a certain location at 5:20 on Friday, and give him a strawberry lollipop. It is supposedly IMPERATIVE that the lollipop is red and strawberry, and I must NOT FORGET IT. The whole mission will fall apart if I don't bring it, apparently

Isn't that BAFFLING??! I've spent literally all day trying to figure out what the lollipop is for. He did say he had to "call in a few favours" - maybe it is payment for a mate. Maybe we need it to placate a small child? Or - *gulp* - maybe it's a secret signal, like the one given by Judas Iscariot. Maybe there's a sniper waiting on a nearby roof, and this is his unsubtle way of dumping, kidnapping or executing me! Shit.....

Nothing from real life to report - I went bowling last night with Anne and some college friends I've not seen for years, which was cool. Bit boring after a while when we ran out of things to talk about, and reverted to exclaiming over our terrible/brilliant bowling skills. I spent 10 minutes excitedly ranting to Anne about Joe, only for her, out of nowhere, to tell me she'd been dumped. Oops. Apparently he thought "it wasn't going anywhere." After only 3 months? Do me a favour. He must've found someone else, the knob.

Afterwards, on a sheer whim, I rang Joe and asked for a lift home - even though I could've rang Mum - just to see him and offload. God knows why, but he agreed to, and drove out to meet me. Didn't quite fancy going home yet, so we stopped at a pub on the way. We nursed our pints and ended up in an in-depth conversation about our significant exes, what cunts they were, exactly what they did and what happened to us to have truly earned the title "broken-hearted" in the past. Strangely, it was rather nice. I mean, I felt like crying (at both of our tales) but somehow, through telling this story, it felt like he trusted me. The feeling was mutual, anyway. God, I don't half get talkative when I'm infatuated.

Oh, and the excellent news is my cystitis has finally gone. Thank fuck for that - never mind the agonising pain and embarrassing infection, I would rather eat my own kneecap than drink that soluble sachet shite again.

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Current Mood: knackered, for a change

Current Music: "The Day we caught the Train" - Ocean Colour Scene

Silver Weekend

2009-06-15T08:19:00.000-07:00

Dear Diary,

So, today is Monday. And it finds me at the end of a very long and knackering weekend. I may not have mentioned, but yesterday was the official party for Mum's and Dad's Silver Wedding Anniversary. True to form, they didn't want to do "anything big" (nah..... 25 years of marriage, nothing to celebrate, really, is it? Bloody hell.) - but we still ended up spending WEEKS preparing, buying food, storing champagne...... Mum (in house-proud overdrive) even went a step further and redecorated the bathroom floor. See, that I don't get. These are their FRIENDS coming round for ONE afternoon - they KNOW what the bathroom looks like, they're not going to judge you! Not to mention I've heard enough inter-parental quarrels about money to wonder how this was afforded...... Whatever, anyway, I guess Mum knows best.

The days leading up to this blessed event were pretty hellish - Mum yelling all the time, jobs that needed doing, Dad getting frustrated with it all (me too, to be honest), etc.... etc.... Not to mention I got cystitis, which absolutely KILLED. Bloody typical. After a little online research, I discovered it was a condition known as "Honeymoon Cystitis" (there are different types, apparently) - which one can sometimes get as a result of "increased sexual activity." Well, I'd rather get that than an STD. So I have to abstain from sex and drink shit-loads of Cranberry juice for a while - and take these sachets dissolved in water that taste VILE and nearly make me throw up.

Deaf Class was a welcome escape on THURSDAY, I felt myself relax and smile at being able to sit next to Joe and let our legs secretly brush when people were looking the other way. We learnt "descriptive" words this week - the teacher praised how well he was able to sign the word "curvy." Hmmmm, I wonder why? Afterwards I was too fed-up to go home straight away, (not to mention starving, as I'd forgone tea to dye my hair) so we went for a curry again. He was remarkably understanding about the cystitis - which I'd told him about earlier - and even laughed about it, saying he'd had a look online after I told him and found the same article about "Honeymoon" Cystitis - and that it was all his fault. Well, quite.

FRIDAY was nowt special. Dossed around all day, emailing off the usual flurry of over-enthusiastic job applications. The evening was fun, though - despite me being sent off with Mum's ringing threats that Grandmas was coming over tomorrow and I had to be home by 10 oclock AT THE LATEST OR ELSE, etc... etc... Having chucked an overnight bag in the boot, I introduced Joe to the magical experience of TGI Fridays, which he'd never been to before. Needless to say, he loved it (I'm sure the fact that I was wearing the Boob Monster had nothing to do with it.....). It's so much better now they've toned down on the hyperactiveness and pseudo-Americanism. Had 3 AMAZING courses and stared around at the exciting hubbub of birthday songs left right and centre, a stag do, and the general happiness that seemed to swirl like oxygen in places like that.

Had a good long talk about Mum and how crazy the execution of the party was driving us all. I will say this - he sure knows how to listen. And he even said I wasn't boring him! OK, I know no-one ever REALLY admites when you're boring them, but still...... damn.
Went back to his after another trip to Tesco for the accquisition of cranberry juice and Newky Brown Ale (I didn't dare touch any alcohol in my cystitic state) - but my heart wasn't really in it. Actually, correction - my HEART was in it, but my body wasn't. Between the permanently painful bladder and the constant hayfeverific sneezing, sniffling and coughing, I was an absolute wreck. Managed to forget it slightly as we settled down in front of the hilarious "Scary Movie" but remained a wincing groaning snuffling wheezing wreck for the whole evening. Grrrr..... How the hell does he put up with me??

Still, it wasn't a completely wasted night - I felt fully justified in asking for a relaxing massage..... he was out the door and off to Tesco before I even got the words out. Lay down in front of "Family Guy" on BBC3, laughing my arse off, until he returned with a bottle of Baby oil. Fun times!

Saturday morning was pretty hellish - woke up at 6am with my nose on fire and my eyes streaming. Surely enough my moaning and flopping woke Joe, who leaped up to shut the window (damn candle smoke, ruining everything!) before trying to calm my whining bitching self down. Why he didn't just put a sleeper-hold on me, I'll never know. Anyway, got a bit more sleep before being woken at 9, because he knew I'd have trouble getting up. See, this is what I need - someone to help get my sorry arse out of bed in the mornings! Anyway, after a whole lot of griping and trying to get dressed without physically moving out of the bed, I was awoken somewhat with the promise of a Subway breakfast. It was like a military operation: "We have T-minus-10 minutes to sit down and eat this breakfast...... Right, we have T-minus-2 minutes to get me home!" etc....

Well, he got me home on time, somewhat bleary-eyed, despite Mum making me promise I "wouldn't have a late night" or "come home exhausted." Hmmm, subtle! I think it's fairly obvious by now what I'm up to, but we still talk in code and play the game. She knows, and I know she knows. It's just better to keep up the decency and pretend otherwise. Before Grandma arrived, we did have "The Talk," though. Or a slightly stunted version of it. Observe:

"Kat, you will use protection, won't you?"
(*vociferously*) "Of course! Goes without saying."
"Good girl. Right, come help me clean the oven." (*wanders off*)

And that was it. Slightly unfair though, that the one time I DIDN'T have sex was the time I came home knackered from an allergy-related awakening. If I'm going to be exhausted and sleep-deprived, I want it to be for a good reason, dammit!

Anyway, Grandma arrived, and the day was fun. We pretty much spent the whole day preparing and cleaning the house (for the 8th time) and getting food ready for the dinner party we had on Saturday night (which, incidentally, was AMAZING and something of a seafood-fest). Mum said I was very welcome to invite Joe to the party on Sunday - which I had abstained from doing, as I thought he wouldn't want to "meet the parents" quite so soon. Apparently he didn't mind.

Alors, SUNDAY rolled around, complete with the usual pre-event occurances in the O'Donnell household - Grandma criticising my hair, last-minute inter-parental bickering, and masses of hoovering and food laying-out. 3 oclock came, the guests started arriving, and from then on, we were all in "host" mode. I have to say, I do kind of like "Host" mode - not matter how rubbish you feel or whatever illnesses (or allergies) you have, it all vanishes when you open the door with a smile on your face, offering a drink. Or maybe it was because I took about 3 times the normal dose of Loratidine to protect myself when in the garden - and spent pretty much all day medicated up to the eyeballs. Which probably explains why I didn't get drunk, despite having about 7 glasses of Rose' and 3 glasses of champagne. Intriguing!

Joe eventually showed up - looking like a Resevoir Dog, which was my fault. Turns out I'd severely misjudged the word "formal" - everyone else was in shorts and shirts. Ooops. He seemed incredibly nervous (understandably) but Mum and Dad warmed to him straight away - which I'm sure had NOTHING to do with the bottle of wine and bunch of flowers he came bearing! He even brought me a bunch of bright pink roses as a present "for getting better." Awwww! The old ones he gave me died about a week ago, but I risked waking up hayfeverish every morning to keep them in my room - loathe as I was to throw away the first flowers a guy's ever brought me.

Anyhow, he got introduced to people, (looking massively relieved to see Auntie and Dan again) and was generally all lovely and well-behaved. I kept throwing him anguished "Aaaaaargh, sorry to put you through this!" looks, especially when Grandma sat down right next to him and started chatting, but he seemed fine. Mum, typically, cooked almost ALL the food and desserts but had absolutely none herself, as she was playing the hostess all evening. I spent all afternoon and evening bobbing in and outdoors, sneezing my head off, watching as the parents got steadily more drunk.

Mum and Dad eventually got up to do their speech. I noticed (as predicted) that Mum said absolutely nothing about their marriage or any funny anecdotes, instead choosing to simply thank everyone for coming to the party. Although I did win a bet with Joe that the words "Here's to the next 25" would be spoken. Saw that one coming a MILE off! Dad didn't even get to say anything. Hmph.
Anyway, the evening wore on. The lovely playlist I'd spent all day creating specially for the adults (full of 60's, 70's, and general "their generation" music) was dismissed for Dad's Ipod - which, rather ironically, contained pretty much every song that hadn't yet been played on my playlist yet. Typical. Forget "Golden Brown" and "My Little Runaway," they wanted to dance to the likes of "Can't touch this" and the full, glorious, 15 minute-long version of "Rapper's Delight." Good times!

Joe and I eventually stole off to the lounge, confident that nobody would mind us nabbing a few moments. We colonized the sofa with "Red Dwarf" on in the background (as a cover story) and spent about half an hour kissing - which was particularly hilarious as he was desperately trying to practise his "self-control" (especially as he was in his "work" trousers - ie: tight). Oh and we finally had the "Proper" talk. Well, when I say that, I mean I, buoyed up by alcohol felt the need to ask the oh-so-articulate; "What's going on with us then? Are we together? Just seeing each other?" etc.... I wanted to know where I stood, which is reasonable enough, surely? But the good news is - I got the answer I was looking for. And so, for the first time in a year and a bit, with a guy she actually likes, Kat is in a relationship!!

After everyone had gone, Mum was catastrophically pissed from drinking on an empty stomach (something she spent all my uni years warning me against - irony is SWEEET) and nibbled at the remains of the buffet, before passing out on the sofa. So it was up to Muggins here to stay up till HALF 2 cleaning up. Strangely, I didn't mind, it was rather fun. I nabbed some leftovers, listened to the rest of my "Anniversary Party" playlist and eventually got the back room and kitchen spick and span, with a clean tablecloth and 2 bunches of flowers swooning in vases. With a glowing sense of pride, I returned to the lounge to force Mum to drink half a pint of water before dragging her arse up the stairs and putting her to bed. Which she promptly leapt out of to be sick. Oh dear.....

So yeah - Grandma left today (thankfully knowing nothing of Mum's wild ways), both her and Mum full of praise for my secret cleaning duties. Mum apologised like crazy for her behaviour and hoped she didn't embarrass me - which she didn't, so it was OK.
And thus ends another legendary O'Donnell celebration. Or "commiseration" as Mum so frequently joked last night. She should be careful, really, say something like that often enough and people might start thinking you're telling the truth.....

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Current Mood: exhausted from cleaning
Current Music: "Golden Brown" - The Stranglers

Not-so-Scary movies

2009-06-10T18:01:00.000-07:00

Dear Diary,

Hung out with Joe again last night. I was initially worrying that he would think I was some dossing loser with absolutely no life other than seeing him (which, technically, I AM, but I don't want him knowing!) - but it's always him who invites me out anyway, thank goodness.
We went to his to watch a DVD - being that it would be completely impossible to do so in my parents house. You can guarantee there'd be absolutely no shut doors allowed, we'd have to watch it downstairs, and obviously no sex!

Stopped off at Tesco to stock up on wine for me, beer for him, and munchies. Bumped into the Landlord from work, which was fairly embarrassing as I got a certain amount of ribbing about Joe (who sensibly wandered into the next aisle) and questions about what we were up to. I'd borrowed a banned video nasty called "Zombie Flesh Eaters" off Joe about a week ago, but never got round to watching it - so we were off to his to do so. Which prompted a huge amount of piss-taking - along the theme off (*falsetto voice*) "Oh, Joe, I'm so scared, can I hold onto you?" etc... etc...
No such luck, as it happens, the film was absolutely appalling. It was more funny to begin with, as we sat watching it for 15 minutes with an entirely red screen, marvelling at the revolutionary cinematic techniques of the 80's, before we realised the DVD player just need a quick bang. But as for the film - "video nasty," my arse! It was complete rubbish, I was bored out of my mind all the way through, and the gore totalled at about 4 minutes altogether. I actually gave up about halfway through and just concentrated on talking instead. See, I know that cinema-goers back in the 70's and 80's weren't used to the hardcore stuff the kids of today are used to, but at least with "The Exorcist" or "The Evil Dead" I can see WHY they were banned. But this? Utter. Tripe.

As for Joe - well, would you believe it, he'd not only tidied his room, but also bought a gorgeous fleecy throw for his bed, and placed about 30 of those little tea-light candles (lavender, as well!) ALL around the room. Some may call it a romantic gesture - as I recall, it was Alice (or Lisa. Or both) who said that a guy with candles or incense in his room is DEFINATELY looking to get some sex. Fair play to him, at least he admitted it! Although I found out the hard way that he has an UNFEASIBLY squeaky bed - and his brother's bedroom is right on the other side of the wall. Have you ever tried staying as still as possible during sex so as not to produce any undue embarrassing noise? It's pretty damned difficult. We put the fleecy throw on the floor instead, but I still couldn't shake off the fear of being overheard. If only one of us had our own place!

Afterwards, he drove me home, not a hair out of place, and a smile on my face. With a Tesco bag filled with untouched treats and eats from our earlier run. Was I really given a GOODY BAG?? Yikes. Apparently he finished off my wine when he got in. Hmph!

Apart from that, still nothing else fun or indeed interesting in my life to report. Darren's wife came over from Switzerland, she's staying till Monday - so Mum's being taking her out and showing her a good time. We went for lunch at S*******'s which was pretty damned gorgeous.
Oh, and I have work tonight. That is all.

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Current Mood: worn out
Current Music: "Porcelain" - Moby