Things Going Bump in the Night...

...with any luck.

Happy Halloween!

I intend to spend mine hiding from trick or treaters and watching scary films in the dark.

I have a choice between The Omen, Silent Hill and, um, Nacho Libre.

Have fun ya'll!

Junk of the Heart

This is supposed to be the week I get my life in order. But I have just got myself ready to go into uni (I'm meant to drop in on my new tutor before four - it takes me an hour to get there and it's 15:02 according to my laptop) and now I'm sitting here blogging instead. I have a headache.

I also have great plans to redecorate my bedroom and throw out/box up a load of junk. But I'm back at work tomorrow and I haven't done much more than throw out some old receipts I was holding onto.

There is a bag of clothes at the foot of my bed waiting to be returned to Miss Selfridge, and I still haven't picked up those heels. I'm completely unprepared for Saturday, the Big Night out with 'Muffin and Crunchie/Himself.

My little baby Puppy isn't doing very well at the moment. He's a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel and suffers from a genetic disorder that effects his heart valves. He's lethargic and acting weird and on about six different pills. He's ten so he's quite old for that breed.

Tomorrow is the anniversary of my sister's husband's death and I think she might go off the rails. It' going to be a tough day for my niece.

MJ is away and I have the house to myself. I was looking forward to having some alone time with the Boyf but now I kind of wish MJ was here, if only to distract me a bit with his terrible singing in the shower, leaving wet towels everywhere, experimental cooking, and those really awful detective programmes he makes me watch because he hates watching TV alone.

Maybe I subconsciously don't want to sort my life out, because then I will have to make some decisions and I haven't got the foggiest? Maybe some people are just supposed to flounder around aimlessly in the messy debris of moments gone by? Maybe it's no bad thing? We can't all be like 'Muffin with his five year plans, work diaries, strictly adhered to priorities. The man is like a machine. A machine in tweeds and a corporate logo tie! He really knows what he wants and goes for it though. I wish I had such direction!

I'm gonna e-mail my tutor and cancel. Then I'm going to look at my dissertation - I'll probably blog again when I get bored after about five minutes of that. Then I shall go upstairs and start organising things until half past five when Puppy's next truckload of pills have to be administered. Unless the Boyf shows up in the next tens minutes and saves the day - he can get me to uni in twenty minutes.

You know why I was running late in the first place? Straightening my hair. What was that about priorities?

Cold Front

I'm sitting at an information point huddled into my coat because my work building is effing freezing. The air conditioning is ridiculous today and I've got my little sexy cafe latte ruche top on (order arrived) because normally downstairs is hot as Hell.

I've got the lurgi and I want to be at home underneath my duvet drinking hot chocolate and reading Spivak. Oh, okay, and watching Sex and the City. Or snuggling up with the Boyf who is still warm in my bed. Or even the dog.

Had many dreams about work last night, including ones about Himself (not those kinds of dreams though - dreams about him reading out his CV and talking in the stairwells on his phone, of course.) I don't know if it's because I feel pants and can't be bothered with it but today I am feeling a bit disillusioned with my crush. Not him, just it, it's so annoying feeling like this all the time. And I should really be putting this energy to better use. But I figure I might feel differently when I'm healthy again and at least there's an end in sight - he leaves soon and maybe I'll stop being so silly. Silly is fun sometimes though :)

Cruel Intentions

Grrr, my hangover has turned into a head cold - I'm legitimately sick. But I'm still in work. Can't let a little touch of flu keep me from the sight of Himself now can I? Shame I look like shit though.

Still waiting for my orders to arrive, even though I paid for express delivery! Also trying to organise a night out on Saturday. Well, I say that, I haven't actually tried to do anything yet, I've invited nobody except Studmuffin and Heidi, I just keep thinking how I need to sort something out. And there's a real impetus to do so now since Himself told 'Muffin he'd meet up with us!

So needs to happen!

Also had this conversation with the Boyf the other day:

Chica: My sister's husband won't let her go to Bristol to visit her friend.
Boyf: He's an arse.
C: Would you let me go away with my mates?
B: What do you mean let? I wouldn't 'let' you, you can do whatever you like.
C: Aw. I know.
B: Would you mind if I went away with mine?
C: Nope; I trust you.
B: So when are you going away with 'Muffin then?
C: Ha.
B: I don't care as long as you're good.
C: Oh, I will be. I'll make him use protection.

Good job he's not the jealous type eh?

Maneater

I think I have met my match. And she's a librarian, Hasslehoff enthusiast, from Hanover. Who knew?

Heidi says: tried my dress and it hardly fits!!
Chica says: oh no!!!! so really you need to go shopping??
Heidi says: i look like a sausage and am in need of shopping! jealous that you fit into teenage girls dress!!

Chica says: i think we should take drunk pics and send them to Himself
Heidi says: hahahahaha - and shelverboy
Chica says: have u got his number aswell???
Heidi says: not yet :P
Chica says: lol, i love it!

Chica says: well im hungry, i need to raid the fridge.
Chica says: hopefully there'll be a sexy man in there
Chica says: holding a cheesecake
Heidi says: cheesecake? mmmmhhh
Chica says: sexy man? mmmhhh
Heidi says: covered in cheesecake
Heidi says: being greedy now
Chica says: but so good!
Heidi says: so what are you having?
Chica says: i dont know, i dont think weve got anything nice
Chica says: send me a sexy man over?
Chica says: you've got loads!
Heidi says: i don't!
Chica says: you have, stop hogging them!
Heidi says: cant help it, am greedy
Chica says: friends share you know!
Heidi says: i will! promise!!
Chica says: good!!
Heidi says: any preference?
Chica says: hmmm, such a question
Chica says: who would you choose for me?
Heidi says: hmm... prob Himself coz i know you like him
Chica says: he doesnt like me tho, does that matter??
Heidi says: doesnt he??
Chica says: nope, he has a gf and he never looks at me!
Heidi says: hahahaha, he looks at everyone!! and he's a gentleman!
Chica says: well, i need a one-woman man... actually i would prefer lots of one-woman men
Heidi says: giggle
Heidi says: just to grope?
Chica says: yes, and to send on errands to meet my every need of course
Chica says: goes without saying really
Heidi says: and rightly so! one man wouldnt cope on his own!

Heidi says: I want that Paul
Chica says: oh yes, you can have Paul, has he got a shaved head??
Heidi says: not sure but he's in the army so good chance
Chica says: well if he hasnt we can make him shave it after the brainwashing
Heidi says: hahahaha
Heidi says: so he feels like a kiwi fruit
Chica says: lol, whatever floats your boat!

Definitely my kind of gal.

Hey Big Spender

After the high of Saturday night, the past couple of days have been slightly anti-climactic. Himself is in looking ever so smart and gorgeous today, and I feel like something the cat sicked up. Have been spending like crazy recently in order to look good for him, and continued doing so last night when I fell off the wagon and spent 175 quid on more clothes.

I realise that lately I have been overstepping the line and offering rather a blurred perspective on moral boundaries. Chasing (or trying to chase) a guy who has a girlfriend when I have a boyfriend is hardly the person I really want to be. However, I completely hopskotched across that line last night, when I boldy ordered... leggings.

I know, I know. I'm a bad woman, and should be made to carry the scarlet letter. But I bought a grey check miniskirt and something is telling me that wearing leggings with it would be oh so cute! And I could hardly wear a mini skirt and go bare legged at work. Right... right?

Ah, who cares? I'll take pictures and you can judge me then!

As well as these items I bought a shift dress, a sequinned boob tube, a black shirt, a 'cafe latte cap sleeve sexy rouche' top, a damson sleeveless rollneck (much prettier than it sounds) and a cream heart print tee - which I think will go nice with jeans and a ponytail.

Tomorrow, before work, I'm going to try and nip into Dune and buy these gorgeous little creatures for the night out with Himself and 'Muffin.

I'm an addict. Pity me.

Saturday Night Excess

Oh My Lord. I was horrendously drunk last night. I was so drunk I couldn't get my own boots off and collapsed into bed wearing one of them. Boyf dragged me up and into the bathroom, where I lay and cried with my head in a bucket, throwing up. MJ undressed me and put me into my pyjamas. I tried to protest, "I'm not wearing a bra," but he said he wouldn't look and sent the Boyf out of the room which I thought was rather matronly of him :P The pyjamas he put on me were a pair I'd put to one side to throw out because they had big tears in the back like I'd been swiped at by a breed of large feline. He clipped my hair back in a random fashion and, when I was ready, led me slowly back to bed, walking in front of me, my arms around his waist.

I was wasted, completely trashed. And I wouldn't mind but I hadn't even drank that much. I must have had about six drinks, although I did mix them, and I have never ever been so drunk before in my life. I know it's regarded as rather a rite of passage, but I've never actually been sick before after a night out. And if I start feeling drunk, I usually slow right down or switch to water because I HATE feeling drunk and looking that unattractive.

I didn't realise I was that drunk until the last half-drink I managed, a Reef in the Fab Cafe. I thought I was merely happy. I had been laughing like a lunatic all night and dancing like one too. The source of such merriment? Himself. I sent him a text message. Before a drink had passed my lips. I'm still rather delirious about it.

At around ten to eight my Uncle Yank sent me a joke that reminded me of Himself, and so I spontaneously forwarded it on to him and signed it with my name and a kiss!

Then I did a funny little dance and got nervous about whether I should've sent it or not.

In the car on the way into town, I got a reply: Chica (my surname)? X

Chica: (surname's) the one. Mate just sent me that joke and I thought of you! Have a good night! x

It could have ended there right? I'm friendly but I give him an out at the end with the general tone of finality.

Himself: Thanks. That theme has been my topic of the week. Gonna go Mosquito again tonight. No surprise there. Are you staying in with the hubby tonight?

C: Nope I am off out to town. Might meet up with Heidi later and go cruising for boys. Where would the Mozzie be without you! Have fun! x

Again with the finality, right? He could just leave it there perfectly politely. But...

H: Excellent. (surname) is on the town. Who you out with? You should come to Moz so you can report back to 'Muffin.

(!)

C: I'm not sure. Maybe next week. I'm not in my Mozzie best! Rocking the skinny jeans tonight. Wouldn't want to scare the poor lamb, think it's best if he goes in blind! x

H: Cool. Well it would be nice to see you around my way tonight. Skinny jeans will be ok. Just get in touch if you fancy it. If not, hope you have a lovely night x

First of all, how lovely is he? I'm practically orgasmic at this point. Second of all, he uses predictive text. And thirdly, oh fuck. I'm on a night out with the Boyf and I've been invited to a club by the guy whose pants I've been trying to get into for the last two or three weeks. What would Jesus do?

I proceeded to get swiftly drunk and text everyone I knew about whether to go to Mosquito or not. In the end, Boyf suggested going because my texting was rather indiscreet (drunk, remember?) so I had to tell him that we had been invited to Mosquito by a workmate. But the first time we passed it there was a queue outside. Boyf does not do queues to get in places, ever. I was secretly glad but sick with excitement at the same time. After a drink in Mathew Street, we decided to head back to the other side of town, and when we passed Mosquito, Boyf tried his luck at the door. Apparently, you needed tickets. Boyf dropped Himself's name and the woman on the door looked kind of impressed and said: "He's already gone down." Boyf wanted me to ring him to get us in (he could've, he's well connected) but I thought that would be WAY too weird and suggested meeting Heidi at the Fab Cafe instead.

I failed to meet Heidi because she went home early but we continued to text each other until I was too drunk to read them. I'm still drunk now. I reserve the right to deny all this in a few hours time. Enjoy it while you can!

In a word: Eek!

Friday Night Blues

Boyfriends suck.

That is all.

Love Muscle Russell

God, this morning seems like a long time ago! It's lucky I've got numerous emails to Guillermo and texts to my sis to work from!

So, you'll all remember that I got Himself's phone number from Heidi. What she didn't tell me was that she'd text him and asked if it was okay after she'd give me it! Today, I spoke to Himself first thing and he didn't let on about it. But he came and found me and Studmuffin while we were shelving books and teased us about being 'the happy couple.' When we both protested, he stroked my arm, apologised and said to 'Muffin: "Come on, Chica's a pretty girl." Then he said: Heidi text me and asked if it was okay that she's given you my number... I was like, what? no, fuck off!

There followed an exchange I can't remember. I think I maybe blacked out because whatever awkward response I managed to make to this has been wiped from my brain. I'm pretty sure it involved a lot of nervous laughter from me and the 'Muffin. At some point I managed a feeble 'It's okay I won't use it.' He said: oh no, use it, get drunk and send me pictures.

Then we talked about Heidi and how she'd just blatantly asked to watch them get dressed, and how she was all over one of the guys we work with. Himself said he liked her and I agreed: 'she's great; she's very upfront. I need lessons from her.'

When he left, 'Muffin and I discussed how to stop everyone from gossiping about us, 'cos everyone in work, ironically enough, think that we're at it! This came up at break again with Himself, who accused us of always being together. I said that everyone must just be jealous of all the time we spend together because really they wanted 'Muffin for themselves. Himself said: but obviously I'd be fancying you, not him. There were loads of other little flirty bits but I can't bloody remember them all! He was asking about my dress again, and wanted to see a picture, but I don't have one on my phone.

We also had some banter with me bravely stopping him as he walked past to tell him his outfit was a bit Russell Brand. He was indignant and demanded to know what was Brandish about it. I told him it was the floppy collar and the black scarf, which he took off immediately. We were standing pretty close. "I can't believe you said that, I hate Russell Brand, he's a wanker," he complained. I laughed and said sorry and he play-shoved me as I walked away!

Ah, it was a beautiful moment.

So, even though it's all a bit clumsy, I'm at least getting to know him a bit better! I think I need to do some damage control though over the me and 'Muffin rumours. Although, if they're busy talking about that, maybe they won't notice me drooling all over Himself!

The Girl Can't Help It

Okay, there's more. It's been a productive day.

At lunch, 'Muffin and I went shopping to pick Heidi some leaving presents up. Let me now just declare my undying love for Heidi, and later you'll see why. Upon returning, Heidi was in the Staff Room with Himself, so it was just the four of us, and we got to talking about the night out. I can't remember particulars, but Himself and I had a bit of banter going on, largely over style tips for 'Muffin. Heidi said she liked one of Himself's friends, and I asked what he was like.

Himself: He's ripped. He's really good looking. Imagine my personality...
Chica: ...but he's good looking to make up for it? ;)

I love teasing him, he does this great smile. But then 'Muffin was being way over the top obvious, saying things like: "Heidi can have him and Chica can have you then." The following exchange was even more horrifying, but luckily P.Diddy was there to laugh with and take the mortification away.

'Muffin: Well, give us an example of your chat up techniques, work your magic on Chica.
Himself: Chica's got a boyfriend!
'Muffin: Well, hypothetically...
Himself: ...no, I can't just do it here!
Chica: *dying*

But the reason I love Heidi so much is because she is an unashamed, unabashed flirt and she manhandles all the guys at work. She came straight out and asked if we could go to Himself's house and watch them all get changed - he said yes by the way - and get ready there (so not happening!) When I told her I fancied Himself, she replied with such great nonchalance 'Who wouldn't?' and gave me his number. And she almost got us an invite to stay at Himself's on the night out, except I immediately offered our spare room for Heidi (I can't handle such proximity) and he reconsidered and said that the Boyf and Sarah prob wouldn't be too happy if I stayed over. He didn't mention anything about Heidi staying over though? Hmmm.

Later, as he walked past the counter, we resumed the outfit conversation. I asked on the appropriateness of dresses, because we were both planning to wear them, and described Heidi's prom dress affair.

Himself: Yeah, the girls wear dresses, you can get as dressed up as you like where I go, you won't look overdressed. I suppose some girls wear quite slutty dresses...
Chica: So cleavage is okay yeah?
Himself: *looking suitably surprised* I can't WAIT to see what you're gonna wear!

His number is on my phone. Obviously I can't use it. But fuck.

Props

Oh, and because I know just how annoying I am, I must offer out a special thank you to the people who have shown themselves to be true friends and, instead of telling me to shut the hell up, have offered me advice and encouragement in this truly friendship-testing time. In no particular order:

- MJ, my rock!
- 'Muffin, without whom I would be totally lost!
- Wondy, for understanding exactly what I'm going through and going through it with me, and especially for her brilliantly funny e-mails in my hour of need!
- Heather, for her advice, encouragement, and lack of judgement!
- Guillermo, because despite how well you know me, you're still trying to make me see sense.
- And my lovely sis, because she's hilarious.

Believe it or not, this crush is a secret!

Thanks very much you lot, you are helping me cling on to those last fleeting shreds of sanity and self respect!

Bunny Girl

Okay so firstly, to all of my friends and readers, and readers who are also friends, I am truly sorry. I know I am testing your patience. I realise that I should probably think of renaming this blog: I've got a crush on a guy and I'm gonna make you all listen to me talk about him until your ears bleed.com, but I think that's already taken. I understand that there are much more important things going on in the world that should occupy my mind, and more significant happenings in your everyday lives. Really, this whole crush scenario is utterly trivial, and it's scandalous of me to be complaining about it's effects while people who could be reading this are going through real actual problems that don't involve trying to turn the head of the office hottie... who just walked past.

Secondly, if you wholeheartedly agree with the above and are thanking the heavens that I've finally come around from a pheromone induced frenzy, then I would kind of avoid scrolling down. Or possibly checking back in any time soon. Because this is another one of those posts.

Yesterday, I launched Operation Bridget Jones. It didn't start terribly well as I overslept and had to rush around like crazy beautifying myself, which I obviously need about four hours to do. During this time, my sister docked with an emotional crisis and I, being a terrible sister, was trying to console her whilst straightening my hair and systematically laddering the tights I had paid a small fortune for the day before. (Actually, this is all sounding rather Bridget isn't it? I'll be sliding down a fireman's pole tomorrow - if I'm lucky!) But finally, I was ready. I had on a tight polo neck jumper, a short pleated skirt with a cute little belt, and heels. MJ gave me a lift to work so not only wasn't I late, but I scored what was to be the only time I had with Himself all day (MJ, I love you!)

When I walked into the Staff Room, it was full of people, so I couldn't look at Himself and see if anything registered, but everyone else practically showered me in compliments, including my boss - which was a big relief because I thought I might get told off for the risque skirt! Studmuffin nearly fell over and said I looked hot, and I swear some people were nice to me who usually don't even bother saying hello! But: nothing from Himself. Not even a flicker. Gutted. Sassy was a godsend because I probably would've buckled under all the attention except she said "Ooh, is this part of your mid life crisis? Oh no, you went to lunch with your friend didn't you - that's why." Phew. Himself went home early. At about half seven (I worked til 9) I changed into jeans.

But, not one to be easily discouraged(!), I woke up this morning more determined than ever and chose a black knee length skirt and a pretty top that highlights my waist and ties at the back in a bow. This morning, Himself walked into the Staff Room as I was applying make up at the mirror and said: "Another skirt, very nice," and watched me put on my mascara! I said, "Thanks, I'm glad somebody noticed," because I couldn't say, "Thanks, I'm glad you noticed." I told him I was acting on Hoggle's advice. Later, Hoggle asked me what the change was in aid of, because I never wear skirts to work since you are always bending over and stretching and standing on kick stools. I told her about the rut and how I was trying to change it in small ways, so I hope she hasn't noticed anything going on.

THEN, we were talking about the big night out at the end of the month and Himself was saying that the girls shouldn't go because Studmuffin will be reserved if we're there. So I pretended to be miffed and said I wasn't going unless Himself asked me nicely. He took me seriously and was like: "Oh no I'm really sorry, I didn't mean it like that." 'Muffin was distraught because he's desperate not to be thrown to the lions and wants us girls there for moral support. I insisted that I brought the wild side out in 'Muffin and could in any man(!) 'Muffin chimed in with a 'yeah, anything with a pulse,' then left us alone. Himself looked at me - with those eyes Wondy! - and said: "I'd love for you to come."

I replied: "I just have."



Okay, you know I so didn't! I mumbled something along the lines of a thank you and appreciating it, and he walked off, then turned round and flashed me a big smile.

*Sigh*

Yep, I'm afraid it's only going to get worse. You may want to cut me off now.

Sshhhhh...

Since I have discovered today that not only do I have just two weeks to become Keira Knightley, but must undermine and sabotage Himself's relationship with "Sarah" (like, allegedly that's her name*, who is she???? who is she???**) in these same said two weeks, I have decided to bring out the big guns.

Thanks to Laura, I may find happiness with Himself yet!

I swear to you, I am kidding.

*SATC quote. Yes, desperate times call for desperate measures.

**The Nikki-ism's live on.

Back to Earth with a Bump

God, I am a total fucking idiot.

This is driving me crazy. I ended up spilling the details of my rubbish weekend to Sassy and Himself at break. Then:

Chica: So, how was your weekend?
Himself: Better than yours! I'm back with Sar-
C: Good!
H: She called me on Thursday so I saw her on Friday...
C: Good.
H: So we're back on.
C: Good, Happy?
H: Yeah.
C: Good.

Oh well, at least I got to flash some photos of the Boyf and gain back some respectability.

Ah, who am I kidding? I am a total fucking idiot.

Ex Factor

He's back with his ex.

Gutted.

He also cheated on her on Saturday night with a random girl.

And yet I still like him. People in glass houses and all that.

That's a huge secret that the 'Muffin let me in on this morning. He was like: "...hun." I knew what it was going to be.

Chica: What is it? Hit me, slap me in the face with it.
'Muffin: He's back with his ex.
Chica: ......................What's her address?

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. And fuck.

Should I stop the madness now?

It's way too early for such bad news :(

The Edge of Reason

Quick update on the Boyf: monogamy sucks ass.

Now, let's get to the important stuff. How do I, in the space of two weeks, transform myself into Keira Knightley? Keira Knightley in the film Love Actually, to be precise.

Himself named Keira as his fantasy woman, particularly in this film. Think about it: he likes Keira, I like Andrew Lincoln, it's obviously meant to be! Um, apart from the fact that the two don't get to be together in the film because Keira is already married... heyyyy!

So. Aside from saving up for drastic plastic surgery, how can I mould myself in her style?

In accordance with the juvenile behaviour of the last week, I am employing teenage tactics in the battle to get Himself to notice me this week and have purchased a short skirt. I plan to wear it on Tuesday, if I can find a top that goes with it, one that doesn't show any cleavage (I do one or the other, legs or chest, never both!) Perhaps this is more desperate Bridget Jones than lovely Keira Knightley but meh, I'll take what I can get.

God, if you gave her a laptop instead of a diary this is bloody me right now! I think I need chocolate. Or vodka.

Oi, Beyonce, Noooooo!

And on a lighter note, I have been listening to a lot of Beyonce lately. I'm loving Deja Vu and Check On It. Lines like Boy I try to catch myself but I'm out of control / Your sexiness is so appealing I can't let it go, and You think that I'm teasin' / But I ain't got no reason / I'm sure that I could please you / But first I gotta read you, have a particular resonance with me at the mo.

But why oh why did they let her call her album B'day? Don't they know what a bidet is?

Dead Zone

Okay, I'm reaching the point where I know I need to give myself a good talking to. Why am I getting so carried away with this stupid crush over a guy I don't know very well, a guy that the Boyf is ten times better looking than, and probably ten times more of a man than? Do I even like the guy himself at all, or does he represent something to me?

What something? He's a flash git, the type of guy I think girls are stupid to like, he spends a fortune on clothes, needs to be seen in all the right places, and has a roving eye for the ladies. I don't want to stereotype him totally, because I think there are hidden depths there; he's lovely to the 'Muffin and was in a five year relationship, he can't understand why people are scared of commitment. He's exciting, and he has a lot of get-up-and-go.

Let's examine the weekend I've spent with Boyf so far. Friday night, I could've gone out with MJ, but I stayed at home with the Boyf so we could spend time together. This was my own choice, but I did sacrifice a good night out so that I could see him. And what did we do? Well. He watched Taggart. I couldn't bring myself to watch Taggart so I blogged and chatted to 'Muffin on MSN. Then I got bored and decided to sleep. This is when Boyf chose to come upstairs, after having a few cans of lager, and watch TV. While I was trying to sleep. I didn't say anything. When he disappeared for a bit, I turned off the TV. The room was dark. I heard him come back in. He was eating something. Then a crash as he knocked a glass of water over the TV. He swore, had a go at me "this room is exactly how you want it all the time", and slammed the lightswitch back on. He looked at the damage, then left it, switched the light back off, and carried on chewing. I got up and cleaned up the mess. Then I got back into bed. I lay there fuming. He started to snore.

This morning. He acted like nothing happened so I followed suit. It wasn't an actual argument, so let's just forget about it. We decided to go shopping because we had to pick up a couple of birthday presents, and I wanted shoes. We drove into town. Once there, and in the first shop I went into, Boyf started to complain. I suggested he went and got his dad's present while I tried on some shoes, and to call me when he'd finished and we'd meet back up. Off he went. I popped into two more shops and decided to call him, when I noticed that he'd tried to call me but I hadn't heard it because of the music in the shops. It must have been about twenty minutes since we'd split up. "Where are you?" I said when he picked up. He'd gone back to the car. He'd alread paid the parking fee. He'd bloody left me in town!

I was like: "Are you serious?" But whatevs, I hung up on him, ignored most of the rest of his calls, carried on shopping. It was horrible. I was in a foul mood. I bought one skirt and some perfume for my niece's birthday. Boyf called me and offered to pick me up, I told him I'd get the bus. Because of the match traffic, I was stuck on there for ages. I got home at about half six. Boyf saw me getting off the bus and caught up with me. He couldn't understand why I was angry and asked if we were still going to the pictures. Obviously, I responded calmly and sweetly: "I'm never going anywhere with you again! Get lost!" He refused, and followed me to the door, where I demanded his key. "So you can open the door and then fuck me off?" he asked. "No," I explained, "I mean, give me the key back." He did and stomped off. Then he turned up like an hour later asking again if we were going to the pictures. Like, get the message.

So now it's Saturday night and I'm home, again.

I wonder why I'm allowing myself to get so carried away with this crush?

Relationships aren't always easy. I know this. And what I've described above isn't really a huge deal. But it's getting to be like this more and more. Sometimes, I think the Boyf is the most amazing boyfriend in the world. People in work tease me about him being the perfect man, and nobody comparing to him. And then sometimes we go through phases like this, when I can't get him to make any sort of effort. I'm so tired of trying. If this is going to get fixed, it's down to him this time. I'm keeping my options open - after all, you only live once, and I'm tired of wasting my youth.

Charm Offensive

Chica: You've got a spring in your step today!
'Muffin: I have!
Chica: I think I've got a spring in my knickers.
'Muffin: I'd have thought it was more of a torrent.

Crude, but funny.

'Muffin was a little ray of sunshine today, and I have to say I now measure a true friendship by the lengths to which someone will go so that you can perv on the object of your affection! He ran down from the second floor to let me know that Himself had come in to work the afternoon, told me I looked lovely when I was standing next to him, made Himself stand up and give us a twirl in his v. expensive outfit (£300 pound on the shoes alone!) - enabling much ogling from me - and stood chatting so that I could get a final glance of his sexy bum before the drought of the weekend. He actually said: "Turn round this way so you can get a look at him!"

This man understands me.

Discussing 'Muffin's belly - which he describes as podgy - in the Staff Room, I told him he was more self conscious than he needed to be, and Himself made him stand up and told him to lift up his top. 'Muffin objected, and was on his way out when Himself looked at me and with a cheeky grin said "[My real name,] lift up your top!" 'Muffin pretended he was suddenly interested and ran back in the room. I think I actually managed not to blush, but it was hardly a charm offensive eh!

Freaky 'Fess Up

In the spirit of full disclosure, and inspired by Wondy's confession, I would just like to formally announce that, for a period of about two days, before it became totally eclipsed by my desire for Himself, I fancied Chad Michael Murray.

You may not know him. He's the doe-eyed kid L.Lo falls for in Freaky Friday, and he certainly did nothing for me in that role. He also features a bit on Go Fug Yourself, for obvious reasons, none of which could be said to engender attraction.

On Sunday night, I had a horror double bill of my very own, and watched The Descent (which rocks!) and House of Wax (not as much rocking but worth a watch if only to marvel at Paris Hilton acting.) In House of Wax, however, CMM plays a sort of bad boy character with a soft, heroic underbelly, and I totally fell for it. I thought he was looking a bit Justin Timberlake without the skinny kid element too. He's just like, the guy that gets things done. The guy you'd want on your team. As Paris herself would say: that's hot.

The Descent won out though, not at all what I expected, with good performances and genuine shocks. I'm not a major fan of scary or gory films but this one surprised me. I know it was out for ever ago but because I'm not a big fan of the genre I could never be bothered watching it until recently. If you missed it too, you should really check it out.

There you go, a post not entirely about the guy I like! I'm too good to you!

Flirting With Disaster

Since 'Muffin and I have apparently regressed about a decade and are acting like a couple of lovesick teenagers in the first flushes of their first proper crushes (I'm a poet and I didn't even know it!), we have devised a code for talking about the people we fancy at work. 'Muffin's crush is Ford, and my crush is Himself. Hardly one for the Enigma I know but we seem to be able to amuse ourselves for hours using these names and teasing each other. 'Muffin has made it his mission to see if he can make me blush continuously for a whole day, but to be honest, I'm giving him a lot of fodder, as in this exchange earlier today:

'Muffin: I want my Ford!!!
Chica: I want Himself half naked and tied to an office chair, but there we go.

According to 'Muffin, my crush on Himself has put a spring in my step, made me more playful and tactile, and he likes it. Shame Himself is leaving in three weeks and I'll have to go back to my old, gloomy, serious self then!

In accordance with my new, risque persona, 'Muffin and I have put together a flirting agenda. Now, before I even realised that I was annoyingly besotted with Himself, we had all decided to go on a night out at the end of the month, as part of 'Muffin and Crunchie's Mission. Before that happens, 'Muffin is going to drop a few hints to Himself that I have a bit of a soft spot for him. Why, when I have a boyfriend you ask? Good question. I'll get back to you on that!

Obviously the more important question is what the bejesus am I going to wear? A dress more suited to a sixteen year old attending her prom, I hear you shout? You're right (maybe!) For those of you on my Flickr list, see the pics of my niece! Mmmm Hmmm, that's right. Do ya dare me? :P

I can't believe she'll actually lend me it since it cost her a ruddy fortune! And you know, I still might not go there. I mean, it's pretty but it's really very... "hello, here are my breasts." I don't fancy him that frickin much!

I told my sis why I wanted something fab to wear, which is when she volunteered the dress, via text:

Big Sis: Thats terrible ur practically married haha, u go girl! dont b daft it would look lovely and of course Tink wouldnt mind she'd b chuffed. And by the way u dont need a dress to knock his socks off! x

Chica: Think I'd need a stick of dynamite to knock this guys socks off! I know Im practically married, but I'm not dead! :) x

What The Fuck am I doing?!

P.S. If you are popping over to Flickr, you can also see the object of all this idiocy. He's Cravat Man. No, really!

Got It Bad

I just wrote I HEART PR on a stats sheet at work, scribbled it out, then giggled.

I know. You don't have to tell me.

Furthermore, I confessed my feelings to my little mate Studmuffin, who is friends with Crush, last night, after the exchange I blogged about yesterday left me completely flustered. He was gobsmacked and is now very disapproving every time I glance in the Crush's direction. Now, if I happen to sit next to Crush, I receive pointed looks and later an 'ooh, get you!'

Luckily, since I actually like this guy I am completely unable to flirt with him. That would only bring me greater ridicule.

I feel my confession has brought me closer to the 'Muffin, as we then engaged in a full and frank discussion about sex, during which he happily and confidently declared that he wasn't very well endowed, asking if I thought the Crush would be.

Chica: I reckon he'd be about average.
'Muffin: Do you not think he'd be big?
Chica: Nah. 6 inches is about average.
'Muffin: (face falling) 6 inches?!!!!
Chica: Um, yeah, so I've read.
'Muffin: Hard?!

Laughed My Ass Off. But I also learned a new phrase from the 'Muffin, and though you're probably familiar with it, I give it to you now: Wankers 'tash.

That is all.

Yes, I'm 14 Again

The crush continues and the plot thickens. My emails recently have obviously been so sad that Google Mail is now showing me links such as Is He in Love With You? Gawd!

I do not know why I like this guy or where it came from. In fact, I used to think I disliked him because I felt really uncomfortable around him. But now I know why that was! He's such a player and I really DO NOT want to fancy him. Today in the staff room I was just talking incessantly about my Boyfriend and The Crush asked what he looked like, and he steered the conversation so that it was as if I was comparing the two of them. On my break he was asking if I had ever cheated on the Boyf, if I'd ever kissed anyone else, or if I had ever wanted to kiss anyone else! Then he told me about how he'd been out with a girl who already had a boyfriend last summer.

If he knows I fancy him, he's a bloody good detective, and an effing tease!

Second Chance Scousers

And on a completely different note, but perhaps demonstrative of said rut - it being Saturday night and all - can I please just be sad for a moment and say Oh My God to tonight's X factor?!

The title of this post was going to be We Woz Robbed until, in a dramatic twist (the other band that went through were disqualified because they failed to declare that they already had management, or some such nonsense) Eton Road rose from the ashes to claim a place in the final twelve! After the palaver last week with the places being increased just to accomodate scouser and former Brookside actor Ray, there seems to be something of a trend going on in this years show!

How can you not love a band with a front man who could have been dreamed up by Tim Burton? If you haven't seen the show, he looks almost exactly like this:

Wait, am I the cute one or the weird one again?

I love it!

Self Demotion

Here is my second attempt at the witty interesting post. You'd think a second draft would be better but no... Here is the diluted version.

So, gentle readers (vicious ones would already have called me on it), I am well aware that this blog has SUCKED recently (you're all going, 'umm, recently???' right, am I right?) and I'm not sure what to do about it. There are times when I think of something really funny to post or something happens that I want to share but I either never get around to it or it loses something in the telling and I give up. Meh, what you gonna do?

Really I think it's a symptom of things generally for me in my life at the moment. Nothing is wrong; I consider myself very lucky to be where I am and who I'm with right now and really I feel that if you have your health and people to love then you're basically sorted. It's just that it's all getting a bit samey. Friends: I'm in a rut. A career rut, a relationship rut, a social rut, a style rut... there's a whole lot of rutting going on and not the good kind.

My mum is a very wise woman and one of the things she tells the many people who seek her advice is 'if you want things to change, do something different.' You may be thinking 'well duh, wise my arse', but I think some of the best advice is the most simple, and it's not always that easy to realise or to follow.

I also have this really annoying crush and it's not the kind you can indulge in and enjoy as a meaningless distraction to brighten up your day. It's the embarrassing blush every time you speak to him = avoid talking to him as much as possible = he thinks you're a weird social retard = more furious blushing vicious circle kind of crushes. The most annoying thing about it is that I wouldn't even want to go out with him, even if I was single. It's more that I like the idea of a parallel me going out with him and doing the things I'd secretly love to do and acting in a way I never could, if that makes sense. Unhealthy much?

Did I mention this guy would probably interview me if I go for the part time job at work? WHAT a bastard.

So, yeah, my blog pretty much sucks. Read the ones in my sidebar instead!

White Flag

Oh for fucks sake. I just attempted a witty and interesting post about how my blog sucks recently and Blogger has just effing LOST IT!

I surrender.

Would Like To Meet

Okay. Today in the Staff Room, during a conversation with Crunchie and Studmuffin, a challenge was born. Due to Crunchie's desire for free piano lessons, Studmuffin's ability to offer them, and Crunchie's expertise in the area of shopping, for the price of five piano lessons Crunchie is going to 'funk up' the 'Muffin, take him out on the town, and get him a girl. Rather an elaborate plan for a Saturday night clinch on the dancefloor I feel, but still gloriously entertaining. Hopefully there will be a video diary of upcoming events for me to share with you. (And I'm not even kidding!)

Deadline for this transformation of my beloved 'Muffin is the end of the month, the Saturday after pay day. Until then 'Muffin has been set homework such as discovering a style he'd be comfortable with on Zara.com, Crunchie's favourite shop. I have reserved the power of veto on the final outfit, and 'Muffin is begging me to go on the night out with him for moral support. Bless him!

Crunchie is newly single so I think he is enjoying the prospect of a new project. I'll keep you posted!

I love a good Before and After!

Hermitude

I had a couple of parties lined up for last weekend but it turns out I am Little Miss Unsociable. Friday was Yank and Li's wedding party; we turned up at nine, and left to the sounds of Queen's Bohemian Rhapsody "Goodbye everybody, I've got to go, gotta leave you all behind..." at exactly 11. It was pretty rubbish. I think I spent longer deciding what to wear. I did discover that my black satin heels go beautifully with my skinny jeans, so it wasn't all in vain. My Jennifer Aniston lookalike cousin was there with her boyfriend and her mates, and she was sporting brown leggings with her dress. My niece has taken to wearing leggings a lot too. I must confess to considering buying a pair myself, even though I have oft stated that they are the scourge of the Earth and should burn for all eternity. (What's wrong with me?!) I don't know why I'm thinking like this, but I can really just see a cute little outfit in my head, that particular dress with a pair of leggings and maybe black flats. (Is it a disease, is it catching??)

Then on Saturday, we went shopping and Boyf got some new trews - I spent most of the day sitting outside changing rooms (resisting the urge to buy leggings). We were meant to be going out for a meal and then meeting the new girl and David Hasselhoff fan extraordinaire, whose birthday it was, Studmuffin, and the girls at It's A Scream at 9. But we couldn't be bothered. It's the end of the month. It was cold. It rained a coupla times. That was enough to induce me to opt for a cosy night in instead. To be fair, Lila and Weezer pulled out first, so I'd have only known Studmuffin amongst all the people there, and he didn't go in the end 'cos I didn't :P

Sunday we shaved the dog.

Not expecting that one were you?