Birthday festivities

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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