Yet another frustration

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

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

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

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

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

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

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.....

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

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

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

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

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!!!

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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