Return to the Pool

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!

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!

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

My most elaborate plan......

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

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

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

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.

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

Return of the Gestapo

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.

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

Crappy Wednesdays

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

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)

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??!

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

The Plan

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

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