Marigold Mabel...

I have found a course that I want to do.

It is just an introductory course on massage, but I have decided that my mind requires some occupying and I have discovered recently that I quite enjoy massage so why not take it a little bit further?

My friend K dropped by after work for a cup of tea and a chat and I mentioned it to him.
"Do you need volunteers?" He asked.
"Probably...why you offering?" I enquire
"Well..." he says with a sly smile, "anything to help. Just no head massage."
"Why?"
"I always get a migraine afterwards," he said.
"Ok, I promise not to touch your head."
"Unless of course you are directing it..." And he looks at me with that sly smile again...
"Stop that thought..." Sheesh men!

He then goes on to explain that once I have passed my courses, because there will be more than one, it really isn't a good idea to advertise in the local paper.
"You tend to get men ringing up to see if there are any extras involved."
"Are the extras a cup of tea and a digestive?" I ask innocently.
He shakes his head at me and shows that smile again. No, alas I didn't think so.

I mention this to B in conversation later on, the introductory course isn't too bad financially but the September college course is a lot more.
"Money, we need more money." She passes me a cup of tea, "you know if we didn't have the kids we could do extras. Charge £50 a time."
"I sincerely hope that I am more worthwhile than 50 quid! But really? Could you?"
"Yeah, how hard can it be? Especially if you get one of those weirdos who want to jerk off watching you, while you are in your stockings and Marigolds."
"Yes," I concur, "that would be mildly easier than having sex with a fat man." I look at her and she sees my pain.
"Yes if you can do that for eleven years and survive, you can do anything!" She starts to strut her stuff around the kitchen, "you know I think I could advertise my services," and she mocks putting on her marigolds, "Skint Student, Marigold Mabel for hire."

Watching her I think she may be quite good at her new career choice...let's hope that I am too.

The secret...

Last night the hobbits and I had lots of cuddles and read lots of stories in bed together.

Hobbit intuition is very acute and they can always tell when mummy needs an extra dose of hobbit loving...

Spider-Man and I are reading Danny the Champion of the World in bed at night time. We cuddle up together under the duvet and read quietly together...it is one of my favourite times of the day. For those of you who have never read the wonder of Roald Dahl or indeed this specific book, Danny is a young boy who one summer discovers that his father has a secret.

We have just reached the part where Danny discovers what his father's secret is...I won't reveal it here just in case you haven't read it yet, because it is actually a very lovely story.

However, just as I am leaving Spider-Man to go to sleep, he calls after me.
"Mummy? Do all adults have secrets."
I look at him wondering where he is going with this, "more than likely." I tell him.
He thinks about this for a moment, "mummy? What is your secret?"
"I can't tell you that, can I? Then it won't be a secret anymore." I suggest.
"But Danny's father told him, so you can tell me."
I try to think on my feet here, do I have a deep secret that I have never told anyone? Yes, I do, but it is certainly not one I would share with anyone let alone my seven year old son.
"My secret is that I love you," I say, mildly proud of my self for doing the right thing, and I go to leave his room, when he calls me back.
"But mummy....loving someone shouldn't be a secret." He states matter of factly.

My seven year old has actually stopped me in my tracks, and I feel it. You know that moment when someone says something that places your mind somewhere else, or reminds you of something or someone. It pulls inside on your heart and you feel heavy.

"No babe, you are right. Loving someone should never be a secret. You should be proud of it. Because I am."
This seems to satisfy him, and he rolls over under his duvet and calls out g'nite to me.

I close his door as I leave and realise that I am proud of who I love, and proud of my decisions about who I give my love to...and no, it should never be a secret.

...and breathe.

I read something today that I want to share with you this evening;

"Sometimes all you can do is, not think, not wonder, not imagine, not obsess.
Just breathe, and have faith that everything will work out for the best."

Intuitive friends...

After a very busy day I had a surprise visitor this evening...

M the handyman popped in for a cuppa (nothing suggestive here please), but just to make sure that all was alright in my world.

He was very welcome actually. He brought with him some humour, some laughter, some silliness with the hobbits and some advice.

He only stayed for a short while, just enough for two cups of tea, some acrobatics with the hobbits and time enough to fix my mojo a wee bit. He does seem to have a bit of an intuition of when it needs fixing.

Once again, thank you for whoever watches over me...you always send me a friend when I need it the most.

365 sleeps to go...

Today, two of my babies were six years old.

We have had further birthday celebrations tonight and I feel like I have been on a 72 hour party since Saturday.

They are now all asleep....so I am now in bed, with a left over chocolate mini roll and some dodgy book to read....I am pleasantly exhausted, pleased that it all went so well and happy that I don't have to do it again for another year.

Night.

Satisfied hobbits...

Ok...I am using the tiny bit of energy left here to blog tonight.

The weekend has been a bit of a whirlwind I must confess.

Drunken debauchery Friday night, including some heavy drooling over Magic Mike with the company of the wonderful B.

Saturday morning; we booked New York baby!!!! One more off the list!!! B and I are beyond super excited and can not wait to go...but we have to wait a wee bit longer, and will be celebrating my 41st while we are out there...champagne on the flight me thinks???!!

Thank you so much Dad for making the dream since I was fourteen come true. Xxx

Saturday evening; I had the pleasure of someones company who makes me laugh and always smells nice and as for today, we had a twinly birthday to celebrate so have had a very full on day, bowling, eating, pass the parcelling, and visiting their godmother who absolutely adores the hobbits and who we really don't see enough.

So...the evening is drawing to a close...we are all partied out...but we have to do it all again tomorrow, as tomorrow is their actual birthday and two of my babies will turn six at 11.01 and 11.05 respectively.

Hope your weekends were all as excellent as mine was...g'nite.

Woggly teeth...

I have attempted to educate the hobbits this evening, by playing them the music from Madame Butterfly...

They have returned the favour by showing me how they can cross their eyes, and by Superman showing me his new 'woggly' tooth.

Apparently you can't pull a tooth until it is really woggly...and when it woggles, it will be ready to come out and of course put under your pillow for the tooth fairy, who apparently pays out in gold for the first tooth...

Go figure.

Needless to say, I have shown them how am impressed I am by their eye gymnastics, however they are not so impressed by Puccini.

You can't say I didn't try...

Booty call...

There is something in the air.

I am unsure whether it is necessarily the impending, dreaded (well for me anyway) Valentine's Day, or whether it is indeed 'The Year of Self Discovery' according to my friend B.  However, there seems to be a bit of sexual naughtiness in the air, a sense of liberal behaviour and an embracing of the inner sexual demon.

Sipping coffee and drinking wine, two of my very good friends and I were talking last night about my recent blog on embracing your own nakedness. Consequently this led on to other things...doesn't it always?

One of my friends is in a very loving, wonderful relationship with a very lovely and wonderful man. He adores her and she adores him, however on occasion she lacks a little self confidence, although she has no reason to.

Whilst to be fair this lack of self confidence doesn't hinder her in any other way, and certainly not with him, but we all suffer from this on occasion and it is so nice to be told that you are attractive and that someone still fancies you...and isn't it also true that sometimes actions speak louder than words?

Or in this case...photos?

My friend and I managed to convince her, that he, having not seen her for a few days, would probably just love a little reminder...so proceeded to cajole her into getting her top off. I can't blame the wine myself...as I was on the coffee, but after some persuasion we finally took some very nice photos of her very gorgeous boobs...with bra if you must know, we weren't having any girl on girl action in the dining room.

She was very unsure...and virtually retreated into herself as she left my house, totally unsure of what his reaction would be, even though my other friend and I knew that he would just absolutely love them.

Throughout the evening, I intermittently checked on whether she had sent it, only to be told a resounding no...however, after some time she informed me that she had indeed built up to sending the photo and he had absolutely loved it...(indeed if he is reading this blog, which I know he does, this is your time to post anonymously how much you really did love it!)

Before they knew it, the photos were coming back and forth and became more risqué as the evening grew late...culminating in him, driving through the snow late at night, on a journey that normally would take him an hour, but with the pending excitement at the end of his path probably took him no more than 40 minutes...for a Booty call...

Both of them had built it up to such a peak that they could barely keep their hands off each other when he walked in the door...now that is what I call a result!

Completely inpromptu, sexual tension rising and amazingly horny...a great way to end a Tuesday night and start a Wednesday morning.

I have a feeling this will not be the last time they do this...what a great way to tell someone that you are thinking of them, and them only...that the underwear you are wearing is for them in mind...that your desire for them has reached boiling point....and quite simply, that you are missing them.

A great boost to self esteem and confidence I think you will agree.

Getting naked...

At what point does getting your kit off in front of the opposite sex get easier?

I am not talking about stripping, or being sexually provocative in front of the fire station but just simply getting naked with your partner.

In truth none of us are eighteen with perky boobs and washboard stomachs any more, and to be honest, many of us never were...however, isn't it supposed to get easier as we get older? Aren't we supposed to embrace who we are, accept who we are and feel more confident in our own skin?

It isn't even just females that this dilemma affects. Men too feel weird about exposing their fleshy bits, or even the wedding tackle in its full effect and some never do it.

One supposes that once you are in a full trusting, loving relationship that it should get easier. That the person who chooses to be with us and fancies us, fancies everything about us and it is irrelevant if there is the odd stretch mark or if you are not a perfect size 10.

Life, sadly is not like the movies and most of us don't have the finances to reconstruct anything...let alone full body liposuction.

Some friends wouldn't shower with their lovers, or get out of bed without slipping on a dressing gown for fear of exposing themselves too much to the person they love...but isn't confidence the key thing here?

I don't know, and maybe readers can help me here...if a man or a woman portrays confidence, does it matter if they are not picture perfect? We all love different shapes and sizes, but isn't it genuinely the person who they are that we love and fancy, rather than the perfect derrière?

Especially at 40. I feel that I am too old to worry about the fact that I probably need permanent tit tape...I feel that I should have reached a point in my life, that this is what it is, this is what you get..and if you don't like it, then there is nothing I can do.

I don't want to miss out on experiences because of an irrational fear that I don't look like Kelly Brook...so this is me, I hope my other friends can think the same way.

Taking control...

Sex.

Ok...so a blog simply about sex had to be done at some point, and for some reason this week I have had several conversations regarding this tricky subject with several different people. Something in the air perhaps?

What is odd about all these conversations, was not that it was merely the act...but in how the act is controlled...by the man.

Now, I am far from someone who has any decent amount of research on the subject, however, it appears that us women actually quite like that much of the control in the bedroom is taken on by the man.

Listen closely gents...there is something very sexy about a man who knows want he wants and how he wants it.  Now don't get me wrong, all this still has to be consensual and non violent, (well unless that is what floats your boat) but there is something quite stomach flipping about a man who knows how to take control and maybe even throw us on the bed on the odd occasion.

Well at least that is what I am hearing on the streets, when chatting to people and even at my own dining room table whilst passing the time of day with my own friends.

We all agreed. There is an element of us that wants to be a little bit over powered, a little bit submissive and in the words of The Ballad of Barry and Freda, we want to be taken over a hostess trolley and beaten on the bottom with a woman's weekly.

It makes us feel wanted, hornier and sexier knowing that you guys want us and desire us that much, and that you are willing to be the complete dominant male.

I suppose this all sounds a little bit Fifty Shades to a degree, and my understanding is that it is not necessarily this book that has made some of us women feel this way...but actually something that has always been there.

Of course, we also like taking some of the lead in certain areas however...

*she whispers* we want you to know where everything is; we want you to take control and make it a bit spicier; some of us even like it when you get demanding...

No pressure or anything...

Girl's only blog...

I am indulging myself a little bit tonight. I am treating myself to some Toffee and Honeycomb ice cream and very nice it is too.

It has been a long time since I had some ice cream, but after today, I feel that I deserve it...mmmmm.

Well ladies, I did it. I have joined the hairless nation...and for those of you who have never done it I am going to share just a little bit of the process so you know what to expect should you also partake.

You will be pleased to hear that the lady who helped me with my waxing today was very professional. There is nothing to be nervous about. She assured me that she has seen many Minnie's and for her she doesn't even think about what it looks like anymore.

Reassuring, but I did consider asking her whether mine looked fairly normal...as she had seen so many and all. Maybe not...

Anyway, she gave me a disposable thong and you are encouraged to lift your leg a little here and there, hold onto the leg and all that and I confess, there were 'parts' that perhaps stung a little more than others, but I can honestly say it certainly wasn't agony.

She chatted away to me like I was talking to a friend and at one point even let me sit up and finish my cup of tea...all very civil with your lady bits hanging out for the world to see.

The result is absolutely fantastic and you feel immediately clean and hygienic. I genuinely feel really good about having it done and even showed my neighbour.

Ok, now my neighbour is my very very good friend B, and she would have to be a very very good friend for me to show her such an intimate thing, but hey we are all girls together and she looked back and checked me out.
"Oh yes, really good...might just go and do that myself." She said admiringly.
"It is good isn't it?" I say whipping my pants up, "never going back to grass on the pitch...ever!"

Alas, apart from B and myself there isn't really anyone else at the moment to appreciate such smoothness, apart from maybe the portal of power...but in the meantime, it can be just our little secret.

So to all of those who are considering it...go for it, you will never go back!

Feeling the love...

I have spent the latter part of this evening arguing with a wardrobe.

It is all my friends fault, in fact two of them. It all started with a discussion regarding one of my friends new, possible, potential love interest.

She has been chatting to someone who ticks every box on her list and is actually being brave enough this time to suggest a meet up. We are very proud of her.

My other friend and I have watched her float around the kitchen making us endless cups of tea this evening, while she regales us with the latest email she has received. It is actually very exciting stuff and we are really pleased for her; even if he does makes his own jam...connect with the poor in Peru and volunteer for the local church when he has the time.

To be fair to her he is absolutely perfect...for her.

"Let's see a photo, so I can give approval" says our other friend...."Nice. Very manly, 6ft eh? Does he actually do anything manly? You know besides making Jam?"
My lovely, delicious friend nods excitedly, "oh god yes, he jumps out of planes, he designs wind turbines...oh and he shoots!"
"You wanna ask him if he'll shoot up your vagina in a manly way." Says our friend dryly.
"Ewwww," the two of us say in unison.
"You know how this came about, don't you?" Says my excited friend, and we pause for further details..."I have feng shui'd my bedroom." She declares.

Now I don't know about you, but I have never even considered feng shui'ing anything, and never really held much stock in it. I mean, does it matter that your bed faces the north as long as you can sleep in it, have sex in it and eat toast in it?
"What did you actually do?" I ask always the nosey one.
She goes on to explain that she has moved her bed, so that she now has a 'power' space, and in her corner where love is she has put a picture of two lovebirds, "it has to be a pair of something," she pauses and looks at me, "not a pair of tits, you understand, but like a couple of something to encourage the love and a partnership. A union."

My other friend agrees wholeheartedly, so I feel that perhaps I am missing out and consequently drag her around to my house to check out my bedroom. She informs me that I need to get rid of the mirror in my room, move my bed and put two of something in a specific corner of my bedroom...to encourage the lurve in my life.
The trouble is the only two of something I can find is a pair of fluffy dice hanging in the kitchen. I am sure that isn't what they meant.

Now looking at my bedroom there is one thing that really needs replacing. The wardrobe. It has seen many a better a day, and has been on its last legs for a long time. So if I am going to do this I really need to replace the wardrobe.

So being late night shopping at a certain store in a certain town, the hobbits and I drive quickly to choose a reasonably priced wardrobe to go in my new feng shui bedroom. They help me choose it, and help me shove it in the back of the car while they spend the journey home stuck up against the windows. They were rewarded with MacDonalds for their efforts so they didn't complain too much.

I then spent the next hour, moving stuff around in my bedroom and then staring at a wardrobe that needed demolishing and a new one that needed building. Why do I set myself these challenges? I envisaged myself still staring at it at midnight tonight when the doorbell goes.

As luck would have it, my neighbour had needed a handyman to help unblock her toilet so I had called mine the day before and here he was ringing on my doorbell to check where she lived. Explaining my dilemma he then spends the next two hours assisting me with my new wardrobe, having broken up the new one with force.

Thank god for M the handyman!!! All hail the new local hero!!! Without him, I would probably still be sitting here looking at a load of screws, the instructions and a pile of clothes on the bed!

So hopefully my bedroom is now feeling the love a little bit more...certainly it feels more cosier...and hey, if all I encourage is more hobbit hugs then I am all the better for it.

No pain, no gain...

According to a recent article in a tabloid, you will be pleased to hear that incidents of the sexually transmitted disease of pubic lice are on the decrease.

Good news eh? Apparently this is all due to the fact that as a nation we are embracing the Brazilian or the Hollywood in our droves, therefore the lice have no where to live. Disgusting little critters.

I count myself thankfull that I have never had to experience lice or any sexually transmitted disease. However, many of my readers know that I have been considering embracing the Hollywood treatment for some time now.

I have reasearched this at length and it appears that it is not that unusual, especially if this article is anything to go by...many women, and men are preferring to go 'sin pelo'.

Therefore I am taking the plunge...I have decided to book myself in for a full wax. I am a little scared to be honest, how much will it hurt and what position will I end up in? The only reason I disclose this information is because there is the possibility that the agony I go through will either make someone else make a similar decision to partake or not, and there is of course the fact that it could make a good blog.

My pain could be humorous to my readers, and I certainly need blog fodder lately as we seem to be lacking some good stories to discuss. I am also aware that I am not that anonymous anymore, but hell, maybe this is a subject we should all be talking about.

So bring  on the pain...I will let you know!

Looking out for the rabbit....

Everything is cold....my toes, my nose, my fingers, my ears...and it is only two degrees, so it isn't even if I have anything to seriously complain about.

The heating is on and I still have a hot water bottle stuffed down my jumper!

I do have hobbit cuddles to keep me warm, so I count myself quite lucky....however they are at the moment playing operation - possibly on each other I can't tell. So in the meantime, my hot water bottle will have to suffice.

January is a pants month isn't it?

The exuberance of Christmas is over and the resolutions of the New Year are all broken and we feel despondent, miserable and the weather really doesn't help. We really can't wait till the spring.

Someone said to me recently that they had even changed their birthday date, from January to July...go figure? They were tired of celebrating their birthday in a month that was miserable and dark, and decided they wanted to have a summer celebration and enjoy their one day of their year that was theirs in the warm.

Alas in the UK you still can't guarantee that even the summer months will actually produce any sun, but nevertheless I can understand her point....even if it is slightly loopy. Changing your birth date does seem extreme at the least.

Thankfully we are already half way through January and once we are half way through February we will be nearing the spring...a much nicer placer to be in the year.

I may still be cold for a bit, but nearing spring time makes you feel less despondent...knowing the Easter Bunny is just around the corner.

...now be honest, you thought the title of this blog was going to be a whole different thing didn't you?

The colonel's recipe...

Well the hobbits and I have had a very relaxing Sunday...a walk on the beach and throwing pebbles in the sea, and a general tidy up of the house...it was probably needed after the late night I had last night and sore feet from dancing.

An excellent Saturday night out and a very Happy Birthday to D, who I believe thoroughly enjoyed himself...I was slightly alarmed by the conversation about God...but hey who am I to mock any deity or religious symbol? (However, D...we all know now!)

I was also slightly alarmed by the apparent benchmark that some men set an evening out to...there is, allegedly, an expectation depending on where a girl may be taken out for the evening.

Talking about dates in general and people's experiences it seems that if a man takes a woman out for the evening, and depending on where she might be taken, it is considered that there should be some sort of payment in kind at the end of the date...

"Absolutely," says J (the male form) " KFC deserves at least a BJ at the end of the night, depending of course on how many pieces of chicken she wants."
"So," I suggest "buying her a bargain bucket, you would be expecting her to suck off more than the Colonel's recipe at the end of the evening?"
"Yep." He said matter of factly sipping his drink.
"If it's just Burger King, it would just be heavy petting," interjected K, as though this all made sense.
"So a meal at an Italian, or a very nice restaurant would mean the whole way?"
The both needed in agreement.

Hmmm...I learn something new every day however I am not really sure what to do with this new information. It makes me a tad nervous.

An expectation? A payment in kind? I have to say that the majority of this conversation was done in jest, however I think I will advise anyone to stick to dates where only coffee is involved and insisting on paying for your own...until of course, you are ready to tuck into some finger licking good chicken.

Saturday night...

Now all week the hobbits and I have woken up late and felt like the last thing we wanted to was get out of bed.

So what is it about the weekend that makes hobbits wake up early? How do they know? I of course still didn't want to get out of bed, preferring to lay there in sweet ignorance of the day and the fact that the house needs cleaning...groans.

However, very quickly I was being dragged out of bed to make eggy bread and attend to their needs whilst barely gulping down a cup of tea.

I have so much to do today really. The house is a pit, again, there is enough washing to keep me busy for 24 hours, again...and I need to go food shopping...again. Hey, who said my life isn't rock and roll?

The good news that it isn't all work and no play, and tonight I am out with my dancing feet again...really looking forward to it. Saturday night has become let down your hair night and dance the stress away.

So I hope you all have a good Saturday night, whatever you are doing...takeaway, meal out or just watching the TV...however if you fancy joining us for dancing, you know where to find me!

Easing back into the saddle...

Well what a difference 24 hours makes...

Oddly, bizarrely and strangely I have been asked out on a date by someone today. Wasn't expecting that when I rolled out of bed this morning.

I am at a bit of a loss to know what to do to be honest.

A large part of me isn't ready for this...too much going on, and the thought of meeting someone else feels like too much hard work at the moment. I was trying to embrace being single again and just think about me and the hobbits, rather than letting anyone else in.

However that suggests that I am going to be bowled over completely and as we all know, dates and the path of any relationship rarely run smoothly; I also find it hard to believe that I am likely to be bowled over twice in six months...previous owner of excellent bowling abilities has hard shoes to fill.

On the other hand, it could be a new friend in my life...someone who will help me fix my car, help me with my bike practice, fix my sink or dyson when it needs it. He certainly seems quite keen to take up the role.

I haven't given an answer yet. One really shouldn't be jumping from the frying pan into the fire, but then on the other hand don't I deserve a bit of fun? There are definitely no guarantees in life, there are no guarantees of a spark at the end of the evening so is there any harm for just simply going for a drink?

My dad would say go for a drink, but keep your independence...don't rush in to anything...as if I genuinely felt I could rush into anything after recent events. But is going for a drink tempting fate a little bit? What sort of person does that suggest I am? I am certainly not really ready for anything new.

This is a blog I need you all to comment on...I need advice now. Do I concentrate on getting over the pain that I feel every day? Or do I try something else on? (and no, I am not referring to new underwear!)

It just seems too soon and too hard emotionally when my heart isn't really ready.

Anxiety...

My friend is currently experiencing a heightened sense of anxiety.

Her fella's birthday is due soon, and she is finding herself getting worried about whether he will like his present and what she is planning in order to celebrate his birthday. It is a significant birthday but in order not to expose either him or her I won't mention names or ages...

She was looking at items today to buy for him and once she had finally decided what she was doing, we decided to throw a spanner in the works...

"So now you have that all sorted, what you going to do for Valentine's Day?" Says our colleague.
She slowly turns round and looks at us in horror, suddenly realising that now Christmas is over, the birthday will soon be over and that she will have something else to plan for...
"Don't do that to me...I can't think of that yet." She says slowly.
I check the calendar, "only five weeks and two days to go, how will you cope?"
She suddenly turns back to the computer to check out Valentines cards while the rest of us laugh at her.
"Also," says our colleague, "you have set yourself up now, you spoilt him at Christmas, now the birthday surprise...what you gonna do to make Valentines special?"
"You are not helping," she mumbles under her breath.
"Why not keep it simple, make him dinner and some sexy vouchers that he can use...and present yourself in a big red bow?" I suggest.
"Cos I don't want to scare him off completely...anyway he is playing football that night, I don't want to stop him from doing the things he loves." She thinks about it for a bit..."however, I could always streak across the pitch in a bow..."
"Surely you will see him after football? I can't believe that he wouldn't want to spend Valentines Day with you, he is that type of guy." I suggest
"Well I can hardly get romantic with a teenage son in the house. Can I?"
I look at her, "well I won't be doing anything, I can have him."
"I think he might be a bit young for you hun...." Says our colleague, " anyway you will have a date by then." She says kindly.
I shrug, I think that is entirely unlikely, "your boy and I can take the boys to the cinema, that'll keep him busy for the evening. Problem solved."
"We'll almost," says our colleague, "now she has to get all anxious about what she has planned...and we have to listen to it for the next five weeks and two days!"

God help us all.

First impressions...

As weird as it sounds, both calm and noise have returned to our house today.

The hobbits came home from their holiday in Spain and I immediately felt calmer having them back exactly where they should be, hearing their noise in the house and having cuddles on tap.

The good news is that although they had a wonderful holiday, they were also pleased to be home and it was just lovely to see their faces as they came through the airport today.

We had a celebratory dinner with the lovely B and her boys and even opened a bottle of Champers...for B and I of course...it is almost becoming tradition, a nice meal and champagne to welcome them home.

After clearing up, B and I managed to get on the subject of size...I am a little unsure how the subject came up to be honest, but both so us managed to regale a story where we had been truly disappointed after unwrapping the initial packaging.

I think it is more the fact that first impressions and appearances can be deceiving, or perhaps a lesson where we shouldn't judge a book by its cover. Just because someone appears to be an 'Adonis' (certainly in B's case he was), doesn't mean that everything else including the Crown Jewels will match the person on the outside.

So alas it would appear that not only does size matter (sorry guys)...as none of us want to feel that stick in a windsock feeling, (or god forbid no feeling at all), but also just because someone looks good, smells good and has rippling muscles...it doesn't stop him from having a small todger or a terrible personality.

Perhaps something to remember when catching the eye of someone handsome across a bar...things aren't always what they seem.

The Great British Snog Off...

An argument has ensued this afternoon, over coffee and left over mince pies.

I am pleased to inform you that the date that S went on last night was a complete success...and she has even decided to get rid of the old guy in order to embrace the new...get in girl! The new guy is fun, really likes her and they spent the whole evening laughing. The old guy is now history, or certainly will be soon, all because he waited too long.

Alas the argument ensued between S and J when hearing about the details of the evening and the goodnight snog, and very quickly these two independent women became very defensive about their men's ability for the perfect snog.

"I'm sorry, but there is just no competition," says J defiantly. "Mine could win gold at the Olympics if indeed snogging was a category."
"Oh really?" I ask, "how can you be so sure?"
"Because of what it leads to," she says as if this is an appropriate answer.
"Pah, everyone is different." Says S, "everyone has a different technique. You can't say that he is the best when you don't know what mine can do. We only came up for a breather twice in two hours."

I look at them both sitting at the table discussing this and watching the competitiveness rising.
"You know what we need here? A snog off." They look at me as if I have gone mad. " I can judge, as I currently have no one to snog, however I will need to judge fairly so we need to think of a way of how to do that."
"Well, you should be the one to snog them...to be fair and equal." Says J.
"God, no..." I look at her in horror, "I need to create categories; length of snog; general technique; body language; response and whether or not there is any steam coming off you both at the end of it. Then you may need to swap partners to see the response then."
"You're on," they both say in unison. Both equally as determined to win, both equally feeling that their man is the best.

So we have the plan, the competition and even a prize, we just need to get the men to agree...

Weekend plans...

Morning all...I hope that your weekend has started out promisingly.

I have woken up with a wee bit of a hangover and I fear that thanks to the girls that it is only going to go downhill from here.

My plans are to go motor biking, watch the football with some friends (yes really) and get drunk tonight....if you could just throw in a curry in there somewhere I fear I may be in danger of growing a penis!

This is my final weekend without the hobbits, and whilst it is true that I am very excited that we are just down to two sleeps before my hugging session commences, I am also aware that this may be my last proper break for quite sometime to come...so I am going to embrace it.

The motor biking session is with the boys from Bike Smart and the football is with a devoted Brighton fan, so I will watch her for when to cheer them on, just after I have worked out which colour the team I am supposed to be supporting is in....

I am out with the girls tonight and my dancing feet are ready, the heels are clean and the dress is ironed. The girls are determined that I will enjoy my last weekend of freedom...however I personally fear for the local residents.

It would seem that we are all in the need of some alcohol, to take us off to places where we don't have to think about all the other crap....my friend J is getting anxious about her fella's impending birthday and whether or not he will like the birthday present she has got him, and I mean anxious beyond belief....whilst S is struggling to remember which fella she actually dated last night, and me, well, I am normally designated driver so I have the anxiety of getting them home at the end of the night!

So whatever your plans are this weekend, I sincerely hope that you all enjoy it....

Because she is worth it...

My friend S has a date tonight.

She is taking my dad's advice and is playing the field and he would be very proud of her.

Sick and tired of waiting for her man to get his act together she has been asked out on a date with a nice fella who wants to treat her right.

We are sitting round our other friend J's house, drinking wine in order to stop her nerves and watching her get ready for the night out.

She is getting a tad anxious about it, which suggests that this guy could be worth getting anxious about and at one point she put her new boots on still with stickers on the bottom.

"For gods sake woman, take the stickers off!" Says my friend J in horror.
"I can't," she says, "I am too nervous."
She throws a boot each to us and we rapidly dispense of the yellow stickers on the bottom.
"What does it matter anyway, he isn't gonna be looking at my shoes." She says.
"He will be if they are up around his neck," says J.
S groans...she is getting more nervous, while rapidly ironing her blouse and applying her lipstick.

Her telephone is going off every two minutes as well...from the other guy that she has been seeing...you remember, the one who can't sort it out.
"It is as if he knows," she says.

Now don't get me wrong, she is not doing anything naughty here. The other man in her life has mucked her about, made no commitment to her and constantly lets her down in so many ways. Which is why she has taken such drastic action.

I am quite in awe of her bravery and independence.

S is gorgeous and deserves to be treated like a princess.  I hope that the new guy blows her away, and that the other guy realises what he has lost.

The good ones don't wait forever...and S is amazing and deserves everything special that will come her way.

Many lovers...

My father is encouraging me to be a strumpet...

Whilst discussing the Kama sutra with him today, as you do...doesn't everyone? He informed me that the only way forward is to take on many lovers.

"Try them all on for size my child," he said in an almost Karate Kid Mr Miyagi voice. "How do you know what makes a good lover, if you don't go out there and experience them all?"
"Well them all sounds a bit excessive dad, are you encouraging me to be a trollop?"
"No, not at all...I am just telling you that just because one is good, doesn't mean that there aren't others out there that are even better."

He then went on to explain that in his youth and heady single days, that his conquests reached triple figures until he found the right one he wanted to spend the rest of his days with.

His theory is that when one is single that one should be actively encouraged to go out and have flings,  avoid relationships like the plague and experience different...well, forbidden fruits.

However, being as bold as this doesn't always come that easy does it? I am not a natural born strumpet, or indeed do I have the body of a sex siren and of course there is also the old fashioned mentality that men can and women can't.

You see men can reach double or triple figures and they will be revered in the pub, congratulated as a virile man whilst women still have the stigma of being called unnecessary names if they as much as dare to think about sleeping with several men.

In fact only recently someone discussed in front of me how two young girls were classed as
slags because of their behaviour, and this came from a man who was not only allegedly someone who had had many women himself but was considered a charmer. Needless to say I hopefully put him in his place when I asked him if he practiced behaving like a complete dick or did it come naturally to him.

I am not entirely sure that embracing many lovers is the way to go, certainly from my point of view at the moment I am not ready to embrace anyone else let alone many of them...but who knows, maybe in a few months time I may well realise that getting back in the saddle is the key to moving on.

But over three hundred saddles? I may not ever walk again...

Underwear....

Well ladies and gentlemen...tonight, I have a date.

Things are already looking up, eh?

I have been looking forward to tonight for quite some time, a good couple of months I would say and there is nothing that is going to get in the way of me enjoying myself.

I have clean knickers on in case I get run over, a little dress and stockings with heels...I did consider really embracing the evening ahead by simply going in a white bra and a slip, or even a black bodice however it is a tad cold round these parts at the moment and I may just catch my death.

Now I am aware that it would seem a little forward wearing just a bra and slip to a date, "hey babe, let's cut to the chase and just get it on," however this is an unusual date...

Thanks to my wonderful friend E, another friend and I will be embracing and enjoying the cult classic, The Rocky Horror Picture Show tonight.

We have been practicing the script so that we can say 'Dammit, Janet" in all the right places, and of course stockings and heels are a must, as almost everyone will be dressed up in what can only be termed as...their undergarments!

I will endeavour to get some photographs of the best outfits for you, so that you can also join in on the Time Warp with us...in the meantime all together now, 'Science Fiction, Double Feature...Dr X, will build a creature...'

Handy advice...

My handyman saved my bacon today.

I feel quite privileged to have a man that I can call upon at a moments notice, and today M the handyman didn't let me down.

Having managed to block up my sink with rubbish (I can assure you it wasn't a deliberate action), I was unable to unscrew the pipe underneath as it was too tight and my pathetic feeble strength was unable to turn it.

A big epic fail when you are a single woman trying to be bloody independent!

Hence the call to my handyman..."help!"

Thankfully he was in the vicinity at the end of the day and would pop in and resolve my plumbing issue in exchange for a cup of tea and a smile.

Now M the handyman and I get on quite well; him and his brother have helped me before and we now seem to know quite a bit about each other and naturally he asked me how my Christmas and New Year had gone.

"Excellently" I informed him. "However the last couple of days not so great, but hey what can a girl do?"
Giving him scant details he was really upset for me that I now found myself to be single again, after having had such a great time. "Gutted for you girl, really I am."

He continued, "however let me give you some advice...'men always lie when the bag is full."
At this point, I do believe the tea I was drinking nearly shot across the kitchen.
"Really?" I asked half choking.
"Oh god yeah, when it's empty you'll get no promises, but when it's full they will promise you anything under the sun."
"Well, that is a bit disappointing and a bit of a generalisation surely?" I say, wiping tea from my chin.
He shrugs, "men are simple creatures. Ask your dad."

On this note he gives me a hug and gets his tools together having fixed the dilemma under my sink. "You will be fine girl, keep smiling cos you have a great smile and all will be exactly as it should be."

So not only did my handyman fix my plumbing today, he also fixed my mojo a little bit too. In fact he was so good at it, that my mate J suggested that I wandered around the house just in case there were anymore odd jobs that he could do!

Butt kicking...

Well the start to my 2013 isn't going quite to plan.

I had envisaged a much happier start to the year, and although when the bell struck midnight on the 31st December it had looked quite promising, just two days in and it has gone to pot.

*Insert big deep sigh here*

However, she says, there are always people far worse off than oneself so I need to give myself a bit of a butt kicking and get on with it. That is...life.

I still have a list to work through and I still have people around me who care about me, and I them. I haven't quite reached the complete depths of despair and I sincerely hope that I never will.

My hobbits will be home in just five sleeps, and no matter how much stress they give me they also give me an equal amount of loving, and loving is what I really need right now. So five more sleeps and I can get an extra big dose of it.

In the meantime I am going to concentrate on me. Because I am worth it.

Blog on location...

Good evening all...

My blog comes to you tonight from Yapton, having drunk my weight in wine with my very good friend S and her husband C.

Hearing my loneliness this evening they were absolutely insistent that I arrived at their house with clean underwear for the morning and my toothbrush, ensuring that I still arrived at work in time.

They have been very hospitable and looked after me this evening with white wine and food...the room is becoming more and more smoke filled which is probably not doing any favours to my cold but hey, sometimes you just have to go with the flow!

We have eaten homemade steak pie and mushy peas, which was just what the doctor ordered to soak up the wine...and have discussed everything and anything and it has been a thoroughly enjoyable evening, which makes me wonder why I don't spend more time with them.

Subjects of conversation have been relationships and how they fuck you up in a big way, I can use the word fuck this evening in my blog because I am too drunk to change it into this f**k; we have discussed work and the depression of it; JK Rowling; my blog; Fifty shades of grey and although it was an appallingly written book that it woke up most housewives in order to embrace handcuffs and vibrators; we have also discussed friendships and how bloody amazing they are when every other bugger lets you down.

An excellent way to start the new year and I am very pleased to be here...