*batteries not included

I've Moved!

2007-05-09T19:25:00.000Z

Not usually one to follow the herd, I'm, um, following the herd.

www.rubysomeday.wordpress.com

Get it while it's hot!

The Break-Up

2007-05-09T19:11:00.000Z

Dear John,

It's not you it's me. Well, actually, it is you. It's not that I don't remember the good times. You've been there with me through an entire love affair, and really, I can't imagine what I would have done without you. And how you were so stubborn about letting me use labels! Ah, good times.

When it came down to it, it was the good old 'pros and cons' list that did you in. You're so customizable, so easy to post pictures, so user-friendly. But Wordpress. It's just so damn pretty. And yes, I was very happy with us before it turned my head. Truth be told, the layout of all my old posts are bent out of shape about this transfer. But, Blogger, I can write password-protected posts over there. And while it doesn't let me move things around quite so much, it's just... well, sexier.

I'm sorry it's over, I really am. But if you ever need me, you can find me at www.rubysomeday.wordpress.com. It's not too late for us, Blogger. You can still make it up to me. It's been a swell ride, and I'll never forget you.

Adios,

love, Chica xxx

P.S. I reserve the right to come crawling back if it all goes tits up.

Ruby Slippers

2007-05-08T00:00:00.000Z

This afternoon, I went into work to exercise one of the perks of my job - free printing (within reason) and binding services. Okay, so it's not up there with the great perks of all time, like bosses who invite you to their summer houses on faraway islands or a company Porsche, but it was really all I asked for from today.

In case you were wondering, the other perk is hot young boys asking for my help.

My dissertation is complete (!) I've already noticed two tiny little flaws since I bound it - but it is too late. I'm going to let them go. And I know it's taken me way too long to write, so maybe I don't have the right to feel this way, but I'm a little proud. I keep picking it up and looking at the contents page. I wrote chapters. Me! With titles! And my abstract rocks! My conclusion is drivel but we'll just ignore that one for now while I bask - oh, let me bask!

Also, why is everyone bailing on Blogger? Why am I suddenly wondering what's so special about Wordpress, and if I am missing out? Why do everyone's Wordpress templates look so fetching? And lastly, why do I feel strangely loyal to Blogger? Blogger is like home, comfy and a little worn around the edges, and Wordpress seems like some exotic island you travel to by boat and then sit drinking pink cocktails with umbrellas in, perhaps wearing sequins. Do I want to get on that boat? After that description I'm thinking hells yeah but meh, I don't know. Blogger makes me feel so safe. Would Wordpress merely use me for some mind-blowing sex and then cast me off, disappearing almost totally from my life, except for the occasional and incredibly awkward work-based accidental meeting? Oh wait, I don't think we're in Kansas anymore...

(FYI I didn't sleep with him, it's just always mind-blowing in my head.)

Take a Moment

2007-05-06T16:01:00.000Z

Yesterday, I finished all the studying I had planned for the day early (proofreading would have been totally redundant because I lost the ability to read actively, and I'm waiting for feedback before I tinker with things) and so I had the night off. I treated myself to Marie Claire and sat in the garden drinking shandy and flipping through the fashion pages! I managed not to let the fact that La Dunst looks effing miserable on this cover spoil my R&R. I've only half-read her interview but am so far moved to say: side of jaded with that, Kiki?

Then I watched Road to Perdition, starring Tom Hanks, Paul Newman, and Jude Law in a sinister and completely unfanciable incarnation. Paul Newman has never really been on my radar before, though I know the man is a legend, but oh my God can he act! You're all reading this thinking "Well, duh...", Oscar nominations galore etc. but I haven't really seen him in anything before and his performance completely blew me away. I really enjoyed the film.

Whilst flipping through Marie Claire I also happened to fall in love.

I'm not even usually a Louis Vuitton girl but I adore this bag and wallet. Shame I haven't got a spare £700 lying around...

Oral Fixation

2007-05-05T00:08:00.000Z

The latest from Liverpool (thanks for noting my absence, Nic!) is simply this: I have been buried alive under the weight of draft copies of my dissertation chapters and the tomes of literary theorists, so sorry if I have been a little quiet on the posting and commenting front. I am still checking in with you guys - you provide me with much needed study breaks!

I have to hand my dissertation in on Tuesday, before I head to my job. It's on Representations of Food and the Female Body in Contemporary Texts, and is the final piece of work in my quest to become a Master of the Arts, all 21,000 words of it! I have plenty of work to do still, but at our last meeting my tutor was talking a lot about graduation - surely that's a good sign? It seems to suggest that I might actually be there. Unfortunately, as I near the end of what I have affectionately nicknamed The Dissertation That Will Not Die for the past two and a half years, I seem to be losing my marbles more and more. After battling not to mention Shilpa Shetty's appearance on Celebrity Big Brother (I swear it's relevant), and allowing myself but a paragraph on the Size Zero phenomenon, I am now seriously considering using Shakira's album art on the cover of my essay.

Before you guffaw, please cut me some slack, it's after 1 AM as I type and I've been working on the thing all day. Factor in that I never actually dreamed I would get to this stage and you can appreciate my dilemma. I don't even have chapter titles yet. Other interesting images are dotted about this post. I'm debating whether to go with something more traditional like Biblical Eve (versus Shakira Eve, probably the most appropriate choice, but yawn) or something a bit more fun like the other images.

Or I could really freak the bejesus out of my tutor and use this.

But I'm not sure I've got the balls for it. Ho hum. Now have sudden urge to eat a Magnum. Worrying.

Trick Me

2007-04-28T22:29:00.000Z

This week was Mybug's birthday and he celebrated at Heebie Jeebies. Unfortunately, I couldn't make it, and I really wanted to go, I have a new dress to wear and everything. I am so in need of a good night out after all this studying, I cannot tell you. Once this is over, I'm really going to let loose - with anyone who will join me, frankly.

Yesterday I took a night off and invited Dedalus over. We watched The United States of Leland, which was pretty good and featured a solid cast, including the cute little kid from Freaky Friday, Mr. Rachel McAdams, and the rather underrated Don Cheadle. We had a good long chat before we put the movie on too. And I learned how he likes his tea. It was nice, if a little "sparky".

The thing with Dedalus though, is that whenever he meets a girl, I know before he even tells me. And I know when he's stopped seeing her too. How do I know this? Purely from the tone of his text messages. Single, he is real eager to meet up and make dates, suggesting movies and places we should go; when there's a girl on the scene, I get lots of vague references to his 'hope' of meeting up 'soon'. I'm sure this is natural and that I would probably be the same if I met someone new, you tend to forget anyone else even exists if there's a new love in your life. But Dedalus has a history here, and it makes me nervous. Well, not nervous. Hesitant. Do I keep my guard up with him, waiting for him to meet his next serious girlfriend and get real busy, or do I let myself relax into the friend thing, and accept him as part of my life again?

I just keep thinking of that old saying: fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice...

I guess it's not that big a deal. Judging on past performance, arm's length is probably the best place to keep him.

In the Cut

2007-04-28T15:44:00.000Z

Okay, guys. I know I asked for your advice and then went and did whatever the ballyhoo I wanted anyway. But believe me, you are in good company. I completely ignored my sister's considered opinion as well. I decided to go with 'Muffin's short and sweet 'Oh for fucks sake will you text him you're doing my head in already.'

So. I sent a simple Hey, I just heard, you okay? He answered, saying he didn't have a scratch but his car was dead. I replied Ah well at least you're okay, that's the main thing. Alfie rides again. (I actually refer to him as Alfie. It's our little joke.) He sent an amused reply. And then, I left it.

I feel good about it. I was the grown up - as per. And then I moved on.

Well, as far as he knows, anyway!

The thing is, I have reached a final conclusion about Alfie and I. Any attempt to pursue things would only lead to frustration. He is never going to get what he wants from me (sex); I'm never going to get what I want from him (love).

Hate to be such a fucking cliche but there you have it, the central dilemma of our pseudo-affair.

Maybe one day. But not now. For now, I need to put Alfie back on the shelf. Preferably a high shelf I need a kick-stool to reach. Maybe, just maybe, I'll forget he's even up there.

Chasing Cars

2007-04-27T13:01:00.000Z

Okay, this is gonna be a slightly hysterical post because I am writing as a knee jerk reaction to some news I just received from the delightful and always informative 'Muffin. Oh my frickin' Lord, Alfie was in a car accident last Sunday, HE IS 100% FINE, without a scratch on him, but must have been pretty shaken up because from the description of the accident he was crazy lucky to walk away. Okay, now that you know that, here's where I get a little me, me, me. Um, hello, you sent an email to people in work and left me out? WTF? Not everyone in work, but a few people he was friends with. And yeah I'm sure he knew 'Muffin would tell me. But come on. Now what do I do, do I send him a message asking if he was okay, or was it a snub? WTF?

I need someone to tell me what to do please. My brain has been scooped out of my head like the innards of a cantaloupe.

ADVICE, people! ADVICE!

Missing

2007-04-25T13:37:00.000Z

Okay, as I've mentioned in passing, Boyf is in France right now. He's working on the house my parents bought at the beginning of last year. The one that needed only cosmetic work. He's ripping out the ceiling because all the beams have to be replaced. They're riddled with woodworm and the upper floors of the house could collapse at, uh, basically any moment.

The past few days, I've had the house to myself. Until I had my bad dream last night and reacted like a total fool, I was loving it. (I'm back to loving it now, I just needed a warm body to press myself into to make the real world seem more solid; it's nice to have somebody you can wake up at 5 am.) Apart from that, I really enjoyed coming home last night to an empty house. My sister picked me up from work, because she's amazing. I walked in, got my things ready for work the next morning, made pizza, put on my pyjamas, and watched some Sex and the City repeats. It felt good. I was alone with my thoughts. Nobody was yammering in my ear. I could listen to music until 1 am. I could text my friends late at night without being complained at. If I'd wanted to, I could have cleaned the house from top to bottom or painted my nails without anybody criticising me for starting things at weird times.

I need my space. I like my own company. I enjoy making my own decisions and doing things on a whim.

Boyf called me in work last night. It was great to hear his voice. I got the stomach flip. He asked me if I minded if he stayed longer, and I told him of course not. Even though he's so far away, I know he's still mine. I have no insecurities about us. I can both miss him and appreciate the time apart. It's good. It's a good place we're in.

Who's Afraid of Margaret Atwood?

2007-04-25T05:11:00.000Z

The title of this post makes sense if you've been writing about Atwood for four days solid. I know you're out there, compatriots. The following all seems very Lady Oracle to me.

About twenty minutes ago, not long before 5 am, I climbed out of a horrible dream and into an empty house. I actually started crying like a big baby. I put on my phone and text my boyfriend - who is in France. I text Mybug on the off chance he was awake (student lifestyle.) I crept out of bed and locked my bedroom door. Then I thought, there's no way I'm getting back to sleep, I may aswell write it down.

The dream is dissipating now but Freud would have a field day with the parts I remember, I'm sure. I was in work. Someone was incredibly rude to me while I was serving them. So I yelled at them. (You're wondering where the scary part comes in aren't you? There are no werewolves or little green men in this one.) For some reason I had to work really late, so I left the building after eleven and switched on my phone. I had a voicemail off the boyfriend, complaining that he was waiting for me to meet him for drinks and had been for hours. Somehow, in the way of dreams, it was still daylight. I was crossing the road listening to the message and drinking from one of those bottles with the sports caps, and nearly bumped into somebody. I looked at his face, and recognised it. For a second I thought it was rude counter man. Then I realised I'd dreamt about him. He leered at me as if he recognised me too and I squeezed the bottle and sprayed my drink at him, then started hurrying back to my work building. He, following me, said something that struck me as incredibly frightening, but I can only remember a fragment of it. The fragment is "...a knife in your bed..." He caught me. I woke up. I cried. It seemed chillingly portentous.

A standard anxiety dream?

I have to get up for work in an hour.

It was nasty waking up so alone.

Lucky bitch...

2007-04-23T20:44:00.000Z

...I'm just sayin'.

Wouldn't these two be adorable together? Imagine the beautiful babies!

Brad who, now?

Three Times A Lady

2007-04-23T18:06:00.000Z

'Muffin wanted to play at interviewing but couldn't be bothered updating his blog, so he emailed me some questions instead. MJ also wanted to interrogate me but I don't want to inundate you guys with these things so he agreed he'd just get me drunk and ask me (they were quite private bloody questions anyway, the perv!) Apparently, I am at my most candid in writing and after a few SoCo and lemonades. This is actually quite true; the Too Much Information inhibitors completely shut down and once I'm a little tipsy I'll tell you pretty much anything if you ask me nicely.

1. If you had to describe yourself using 5 adjectives, what would they be?

Loyal. I was born in the Chinese year of the dog. Stop giggling! (I know, despite that I still consider myself loyal, you think I have a personality disorder maybe?)

Analytical. I am far, far, far too introspective for my own good.

Flaky. I could commit myself to one path and make it work if I really wanted to, but I get distracted by the silliest things. I'm using flaky to mean 'unfocused' here, not cursed with dandruff.

Flirtatious. I know I'm a flirt, and not a particularly good or subtle one either. I don't mean it in a sexual way; it's part of my sense of humour. I enjoy flirting, it's funny, and it makes people smile. I flirt with my friends; I flirt with 'Muffin all day long. I flirt with Mybug. My sister is the same. The only friend I don't tend to flirt with is Dedalus.

Open. I think I can be a difficult person to get to know, because I live in my head, but I don't mean to be. Ask me a question and you'll always get a frank answer. I'm not secretive and I like getting to know people. Yet few people know the real me. See also: SoCo and lemonade.

The acronym for my five adjectives would be LAFFO. Tee hee. (Maybe silly should have been one of my adjectives?)

2. Fast-forward 5 years from now. What would you like to be doing?

Omigod I will be thirty. Let me lie down for a moment.

By the time I am thirty, I want to be a published novelist, or a magazine columnist. I would like to be knocking around the Mediterranean in my sail boat, wearing white a la SJP in Failure to Launch, drinking champagne (it will be Thursday) and straddling a tanned, nubile young man. Or a tanned 35 year old man, which is the age Boyf will be! I want the salty sea breeze in my hair, and a big sparkly diamond on my finger.

Hello, sailor!

3. Do you believe in having regrets?

No. I believe in over-analysing the regret until you talk yourself into believing that there was absolutely no alternative course of action available to you. Like so:

Q: Oh my God, why did I tell Alfie I'd leave my boyfriend of eight years for him? Come on too strong much?
A: Ah, but, if I hadn't said that, he'd just think I was a big ol' ho who would willingly cheat on her boyfriend with any bloke she quite fancied the look of.
Q: Couldn't I have just left the chat altogether?
A: Yes, that would have been wise, but at the time I was going completely mad not knowing where I stood and I had to work with the fucker. Besides, this is not where it all started to go wrong, so I may want to choose another factor to obsess about.

Lather, rinse, repeat.

4. Is it better to have loved and lost than never loved at all?

Yes. Although I did consider asking if you had ever seen The Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind in answer to the next question.

5. Tomorrow you have the opportunity to change one major thing in your life, what would that be?

If I could change one thing in my life tomorrow, I would wake up cured of my elusive little health problem. It sounds ridiculous because it is (hopefully) nothing major, but I can't express the sense of freedom it would give me for it to just disappear. I would have a whole new lease of life. It would be like a weight lifted off my shoulders - all that stress would just vanish in an instant. It would feel like when you blow a dandelion that has gone to seed, all those bits of white fluff just floating away on the breeze. I would be more confident and happier in myself. I would feel less trapped and more able to do the things I want to do. I've a feeling it's going to be a long process, but hopefully that will be the case one day. I'm working on it, anyway.

It's been a swell ride, but *BNI will now resume normal service!

Left of the Middle

2007-04-22T12:51:00.000Z

Have you ever found yourself having a conversation with somebody you've known for years, catching up on each others lives, and realising the one question you want to ask isn't, 'How's the missus?' or 'Are you liking the new job?' but 'Are we still friends?' I like you and I want you to do well and everything, but have we just grown apart too much now? I didn't even hear from you on my birthday. And I didn't even say, 'Hey, where was my birthday message asshat?' like I would with a friend who'd forgotten my birthday. (Well, I wouldn't normally say asshat, it's a word I am pinching from Nic because it makes me giggle.)

I suppose you could ask what harm it does to pass the time of day with someone. But I find myself wondering it the whole time we're talking. Is there any genuine warmth here? Do you care? You cared once, a whole lot, or you said you did. Has that all gone away?

If it has, how do I make it go away?

Theroux the Looking Glass

2007-04-21T20:08:00.000Z

I am loving this recent trend for interviewing in the blogs I frequent at the moment, so when Wondy asked me to give her her third grilling, I just had to know what questions she would ask me. Plus, I'm really liking interviewing others, you hardly ever get the answers you expected. (And I still haven't finished that chapter!)

1. Who is your number one style icon (real or celebrity, it doesn't matter?)

I wouldn't say that I have any one style icon from the celeb world, but I often flick through magazines and think: I need that outfit. I think Cat Deeley always looks happy and healthy and effortlessly glamorous. Rachel Bilson nearly always looks cute and stylish. Jennifer Aniston is beautifully immaculate. But I am much more likely to find inspiration in the women around me, particularly my niece, Tink, who should seriously consider a career in fashion in my humble opinion. Nearly everything she buys, I'm like, I need that too! I covet her wardrobe like you wouldn't believe. If only we were the same shoe size, we could join forces and have a collection to rival Imelda Marcos (we often buy the same pair.) She just has a natural eye for what suits her and it helps that she is adorable and spends a fortune on fashion. (But she does shop at Primark, too.) It was her dress I borrowed for my first night out with Alfie in an attempt to knock his socks off. I was complimented on it the whole night.

I don't always - or often, even - get it right and can't always be bothered trying either (taking Bertie to the park in white jeans and wedges like many girls I see? No. Getting dressed up to go to Asda? Nada.) but I do love dabbling in fashion and there are few things that give me as much pleasure as an outfit I feel is well put-together. There is a pair of earrings with my name on them at the moment in Miss Selfridge; I spotted them in a magazine but I haven't been to check out if they are in store yet. They are only £3.50 but I want them oh-so-much (and have the whole outfit planned in my head, despite the fact that I own none of the items.)

UPDATE: I now need the grey dress Rachel Bilson is wearing in that picture.

2. What are your ambitions in life - you've talked about writing, etc - but imagine you can have what you want tomorrow - what would it be?

Does this include suddenly acquiring skills I don't have? Because my all time dream would be to be able to sing. I know this is totally a lame-ass dream - what am I, 15 prancing around making up dance routines with my mates and calling ourselves something trite and vomit-inducing? (I can't remember the actual trite and vomit-inducing name me and my equally talentless mates went by, but I'm pretty sure there was one along the lines of Pussycat Dolls or Girls Aloud.) It just seems so empowering, and I really admire women with voices like Aretha Franklin, Annie Lennox, and Beverley Knight (I bought tickets to see her in October yesterday, woooot!) I would love to perform on stage, even if it was only at a karaoke night at the local bar. Unfortunately I sound like cat being strangled. By Cilla Black.

In terms of ambitions I might actually get off my arse and start working towards, if I could walk into a book shop tomorrow and see rows of novels with my name on the spine on the shelves - or you know, preferably being dragged off the shelves by frenzied shoppers - that would really be an ambition fulfilled. I badly want to travel and have unspecified adventures so that when I am old I can look back and think, I have lived, but I really don't know where to start and there's a voice in my head that whispers a little menacingly you would not survive. There are also several voices outside my head telling me quite frankly, you would not survive.

In short, I don't really have plans or ambitions, I have pipe dreams. I would quite like to end up in a little crooked house by the sea in Cornwall though.

I'd also quite like to go to the Oscars. Me and MJ are fighting over who gets to marry Daniel Craig at the moment, I figure he's my ticket in... Once he's married to Mr. Craig, MJ can sneak me in for sure.

3. Who is your best friend and what makes them your best friend, bar none?

Ahhhh. You've put me in quite a pickle here. I'm going to say two men who read my blog, but that's not why, I swear! (I am also shamelessly sidestepping the 'bar none' clause of your question!)

MJ. Because we share something that nobody else can ever appreciate. He is a fiercely private person and because of this it's sometimes difficult to include him in other parts of my life. He and Boyf hardly know each other, despite the fact that Boyf and I are coming up to our eight year anniversary. You know the saying, no man is an island? MJ is my island. He's bloody Ibiza.

'Muffin. Now, I don't know if this will come as a surprise to some or not, or even to the man himself. Even though in the grand scheme of things, we haven't been mates that long (coming up to a year though!) 'Muffin has been there for me through some very trying times. Specifically, he's been there for me when I know I've been very trying! He takes me seriously, even when I am being daft. He goes above and beyond the call of duty to make me laugh - you know what I'm talking about 'Muffin! And also, although I don't want to encourage this in him too much, he tells me when I need to get a fucking grip. He can be counted on to give an honest opinion - like he'll tell me when I look a state, which means that I can trust him when he tells me I look nice. He values friendship as much as I do, and even though we have our ropey moments or minor disagreements, I think he knows that he's a special person in my life and that my life is better because of him.

('Muffin, extreme statement #2: If you skit me about this in work, I will fucking kill you.)

4. Would you ever go out with a much older man (say 15 years plus) if you were really attracted to him?

Although I cannot imagine at this moment in my life being attracted to someone who was 40+, recent experience has shown me that if I have strong enough feelings for someone, I'll do pretty much anything to be with them. I'm sure overlooking a 15 year age gap wouldn't come without its setbacks but if you were into someone enough it would be worth it.

I've also come to realise that if you love somebody you don't give a toss what anyone else thinks. Because my Boyf is such a hottie, it makes me feel good that out of all the women he could have had, he chose me. When certain of my friends used to try and make herself look better by putting me down, I used to think, pah, well my boyfriend's better looking than yours, love! Very shallow, I know, but worked every time. I used to think I would miss that though, that pride at being seen with him. But nearly everyone I know is anti-Alfie; they can't understand what I see him, and I don't care. So if you managed to find someone who you were crazy about and who actually made you happy too? Easy.

I'm sure there are plenty of concrete points to be made against going out with a much older man, but personally I feel most obstacles are surmountable if you both try hard enough.

5. Would you consider any sort of plastic/cosmetic surgery?

Yes, and no. Personally, I think you should work with what you've got. Surgery for cosmetic reasons seems a little extreme, unless there are mitigating circumstances. Of course, there are plenty of things I would change about myself. Like, I would definitely have a nose job. But I have seen those programmes and what they do and I am not willing to put myself through that. Boyf likes my nose, for some bizarre reason. I think if everyone went around correcting their flaws then faces would be boring. It's often supposed flaws in peoples features that I find attractive.

There you go love, excellent questions, and as thanks I've even stuck a pic of Zach Braff in there for your enjoyment!

Ve Have Vays of Making You Tock

2007-04-19T12:00:00.000Z

This meme has been making the rounds and I finally decided to jump on the bandwagon. Well, I do have an entire chapter of my dissertation to write by tomorrow, I was begging for such an opportunity to procrastinate! Here are my questions from the lovely Brandy.

1. If you could leave a time capsule the size of a microwave that would be opened in a century, what would you put in it to represent the world now?

Hmmm. I don't know if I would be comfortable with the responsibility of representing the world. I would probably try to represent here.

Ergo, I would put in things like pieces of artwork that depict the city (I have a particular one in mind but can't find it on the whole of the world wide web! Tch.) A miniature Super Lamb Banana. The White Album. But none of these things would really translate. There is a feel about this city, maybe because it's home. My boyfriend tells a story about when he was young, being dragged around town shopping by his parents and complaining that it was boring, when his uncle told him to look up. He did and has been fascinated by the architecture of Liverpool ever since. I know it inspires a mixed reaction, but I love my accent. I love scouse boys. I love the waterfront. There are plenty of things I don't like, too. But this city has a soul, and it's the soul I love. Can you fit a soul into a microwave?

2. What was your favourite childhood toy?

When I was little, I loved books and Barbie in pretty much equal measures. None of my Barbie's were called Barbie; they all had individual names, personalities, and careers. One of my Barbie's had pink and purple streaks in her crimped hair, was called Rachel, dated 'Paul' and was in medical school. I made a stack of medical textbooks out of paper for her to carry around in a bowling bag I think I got with Ken. A denim jacket I got with a different Barbie was always 'hers'. But I think my favourite thing was the house. I got it one Christmas when I was really young, along with a bunch of furniture and a plastic mat painted up to be a garden. One day, I decided I was going to run away for some reason; I packed sandwiches, a Barbie, the Barbie bed and the plastic garden. I think I planned to run away to my grandmothers, who lived about five streets away. I was always very ambitious.

3. Why do you blog? (I'm always curious why people do...)

I started blogging because I love to write, but don't have the discipline or the belief in myself (or the talent) to write anything more solid than witterings from my daily life. I persevered with it because I enjoyed it and because it really helped me to stop writing in such an academic style. Sometimes I become disillusioned with blogging because I start to question the merits of my meagre contributions to the blogosphere. I think, who would want to read this? Is this valid? Posts like "Guess what happened today, oh my God, Alfie walked into a building, and then, then, he walked out! Insert crisis here," really don't help, but I find them cathartic. Writing a post is my way of getting these thoughts organised in my head.

I've also met some wicked people through blogging and sometimes I'll write something and will look forward to someones reaction to it. If I manage to finagle a comment out of a long time lurker, or a reluctant voice like MJ, it's a great feeling. And I actually miss people when they don't comment or don't update their own blogs for a while. I suppose that at its best, blogging makes me feel connected.

4. What's the hardest lesson you ever learned?

I'm struggling to answer this one because I don't want to sound pitiful. But in the spirit of catharsis, here it is. I'm still learning this lesson. And it's this: my voice deserves to be heard. I hate the way that sounds. I don't mean that my voice is more important than anyone elses, or that I have anything phenomenally insightful or rewarding to say. What I mean to say is, I have as much right to voice my opinion as anyone else; I matter, too. This sounds like a very generic answer, so I'll flesh it out some.

It came as a revelation to me at the age of about sixteen that instead of worrying whether someone liked me, I might want to consider whether I liked them. A revelation. When I met my boyfriend at seventeen, I fell for him because he made me feel like I was worth speaking to and spending time with - he was interested in me, what I had to say; he sought out my opinion before the opinion of others, he wanted to get to know me. Plus, he was crazily hot. I couldn't believe my luck.

I was a wallflower at school. My method of survival was to keep my head down. I still walk past people I know in the street sometimes because of this, or I don't say hello to people I went to school with, because I assume they won't remember me. Once, when I came top in an exam, the teacher didn't recognise my name and had to ask who I was. There are times when I try to be invisible, to go unnoticed. In a group, I am never the loud person. I don't fight to be heard. When I am unsure of myself, I become very softly spoken; my voice drops a few octaves mid-sentence. I can feel myself doing this, but I can't stop it. I am often talked over.

I am not a doormat, I stand up for myself and for others. Sometimes, I take this to extremes, and later, I regret it.

When I was born, the younger of my two sisters was ten years old. She resented me, and still does, because she wasn't the baby anymore. She personifies the term "middle child syndrome." I made her feel like nobody loved her anymore; I've felt like an imposition my whole life. When I talk, or sometimes just by being there, I feel like I'm imposing myself on you.

In almost every relationship or group situation, I feel expendable. Wearing my heart on my sleeve with Alfie, was one of the biggest risks I've ever taken in my life. And yet I ran into it blindly, with eagerness and almost without hesitation.

5. A dinner party for you and six people, who do you invite and why? (famous, not famous, alive or dead... you can invite whoever)

Although I am sure I would enjoy a dinner party for my nearest and dearest a whole lot more, let's plunge straight into fantasy land (I'm thinking of setting up house there permanently) and go with a cast of people I will never get to meet.

Robert Kennedy. I am really interested in the Kennedy's and the Civil Rights movement and count this man as one of my heroes.

Virginia Woolf. Anyone who can sell stream-of-consciousness writing is someone I have to meet.

Homi K. Bhabha. Is it massively geeky that I have a favourite literary theorist? Wait, don't even answer that one.

Amy Winehouse. I have to invite her! You know I'm Amy's bitch.

Oscar Wilde. A blatantly obvious choice which, I feel, requires no explanation. The man went to jail for the sake of a witty riposte. That's commitment.

Kate Winslet. Completely beautiful, down to earth, and articulate.

Voila!

I think I'm a bit slow on the uptake here and everyone has already been interviewed, but if you are interested, here are the rules:

- Leave me a comment including your email address saying, “Interview me!”

- I will respond by emailing you five questions. I get to pick them, and you have to answer them all. I'm real bossy like that.

- You will update your blog with the answers to the questions.
- You will include this explanation and an offer to interview someone else in the same post.

- When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions.

Underneath It All

2007-04-18T18:32:00.000Z

Another Alfie sighting to report. The bugger came into my work again, just before five. He looked much better than he did last Friday. I'd been working upstairs and came down to report to my supervisor, Nutter, and Alfie was standing there chatting with her. "Hiya, you all right?" I said, and handed Nutter a slip of paper, as she voiced possibly the worst question she could have done at that moment: "So have you got a girl yet, Alfie?"

Any ability I had to muster a conversation piece or simple pleasantry went straight out the window - I kept walking. I heard him laugh and joke "three." I walked towards Lila, who was laughing at me. "Don't say a word, Lila, don't even look at me!" I joked. Then I sort of floundered, not knowing what direction to take or what the blazes I'd been about to do. I took a very strangled route to the staff room whilst deciding, and heard hurried footsteps behind me. I heard my name and turned, and there was the mighty 'Muffin running towards me. "I know, I've seen him." I answered before he said anything. The gorgeous little bunny had been searching the building for me to warn me before I came down! (He rocks.)

I got my coat and went to clock out and heard Alfie saying goodbye to everyone. 'Muffin reports that when he came in he was like: "Look who's here! Alfie's in the house!" and everyone just looked at him. He also had the audacity to criticise what 'Muffin was wearing - like he has any right to talk after Friday's Eldorado effort!

So, on my way out 'Muffin is counselling me and who walks past again but Alfie. I had to walk out of the building behind him. I've got to give it to him, his arse looks great in jeans. And from the back you can't see the forehead, ha! Outside the doors, he stopped to say hello to someone and noticed me. I didn't make eye contact and headed for the crossing. He crossed in the middle of the road, but was parked right behind Boyf, who'd come to pick me up from work.

I got in the car and Boyf said: "Is that (Alfie's real name)? He looks like a tosser. He looked at me so I just stared at him." Then he ranted about what an idiot he was for about twenty minutes, suggesting we go out with 'Muffin and 'bump' into Alfie so that he could take him down a peg or two. Lord.

Anyways, my sister's diagnosis is this: what a plonker, he sounds very lonely to me. And when I think about it, Alfie is always surrounded by people, but they're acquaintances, not good friends. He puts on such a front that nobody really knows him. Everything about him is overstated and flash - there's no substance, nothing real. When you start getting close to him, you can practically see the force field coming up, the bullshit becomes more obvious, the standard lines he uses to deflect questions that might delve deeper than the surface image he projects. And that's really sad, for him.

He confounds me. Afterwards, I started thinking about all the things I should have said again, but then I thought: no, this is my workplace now, not his. Why is it up to me to make things less awkward? It was him that messed me about, I put all my cards on the table. So if anyone has amends to make, it's him.

He never will of course, his ego will just gloss over all that and put my sudden nonchalance down to bitterness. I may be gutted that things didn't work out, but I'm not bitter about it. Last week, I told 'Muffin and my sister that despite how things turned out, I would do it all again. Yes, I have my regrets. Lying in the arms of the man of my dreams, stroking his hair and listening to him telling me my body is amazing while I fall asleep? Worth it. Sorry, but worth it.

If you were crazy about someone, and a Fairy Godmother came and said, you can only have one night, one night to be close to them, in the morning they will forget, but you will always have the memory... what would you do? And I'm not talking one-night stands, and I'm not necessarily talking sex, because that's not what happened.

I posed that question to Mybug and his answer was this: I wouldn't choose the girl I love. I wouldn't ask for that bridge to throw myself off. Memories are the bricks of personality. Know what I'm saying?

Take the Box

2007-04-15T21:14:00.000Z

Attention: this post contains excessive swearing and maudlin but slightly frantic observations which some readers may find offensive.

As we all know by now I am an obsessive freak, and yes, the Friday 13th encounter with Shit Brick... I mean Alfie, has been playing over in my head at regular intervals throughout the weekend (although I do have to admit, I got quite heavily embroiled in correcting the footnotes for my dissertation and his existence seemed a little less important than going through each fucking footnote checking comma placement between about 1 am and 4 am this morning.)

But the possibility that I may miss the deadline for my dissertation submission has not stopped me from thinking about the things I should have said or done differently when we bumped into each other. I'm not really sure why, as the harder I try with this stuff the more I seem to lose. Still, I find myself questioning the way I handled the situation. Surely, there were better things I could have said or done. So far, I've come up with the following:

a) "You have custody of Victoria Street, this corner's mine, it has all the shoe shops, damn it!"

b) "What the fuck are you wearing?" (Admittedly, not big or clever but HELLO this was the one thing that was begging to be uttered, or perhaps bellowed from the other side of the street)

c) "Who's your friend? He's hot!" (Not big or clever but, I'm assured, effective)

d) Said nothing, just turned to my sister, then both started laughing and pointing (I'm really not very big or very clever...)

e) Ran over to him, slapped him on the head and shouted "FOD-NEY!" (Casual violence coupled with devastating insult = satisfying in the extreme)

Or finally f) All of the above.

Any other suggestions? I take requests.

Apart from that, I have had Amy Winehouse's Take the Box on repeat, and her voice at the end of the song is so beautiful and drenched in sincerity; it makes me want to cry.

May I also just admit that when I got home on Friday I dug out my old phone and switched it on just in case (it's my old number and it has all kinds of messages off him saved on it. He has my new number but I figure he probably just deleted it.) I confessed this to my sister earlier and she laughed at me and asked me if I'd also checked my emails, I was like, "Of course, I check my work email from home every day!"

Just in case.

I spend so much time fantasising about running into him and then when I actually do I can't handle it and can't get away from the man quickly enough.

I'm not normal. I don't care that he looked crap. I don't care that he's a twat. I just want the fucker to want me. And he doesn't.

It kind of sucks.

Falling at the First Hurdle

2007-04-14T12:54:00.000Z

This weekend is Grand National weekend, and a pretty big deal. The Aintree races attract a huge number of visitors to the city. Yesterday was Ladies Day, and after an afternoon enjoying the races, people generally flock into the city centre to enjoy the bars. But aswell as those who have been betting on the horses, there is another group roaming the streets of Liverpool hoping their gamble pays off. That group is largely male; their prey the herds of Ladies Day women easy to spot in their large hats and formal clothing. I would just like you to bear this demographic in mind when I ask you a question in a paragraphs time.

I too was in town, having spent a lovely afternoon shopping with my sister and meeting up with Studmuffin in The Living Room at five for after-work drinks. I bought a sixties style shift dress thing, and my sister bought this really glamorous red dress in my size, which I will totally be borrowing at the first available opportunity (this means I will have to encourage her to wear it fairly soon, because borrowing something that's brand new isn't really cricket. Once it's had its first dry clean it's up for grabs.)

Now let me direct you to a sentence from a recent post of mine entitled 'Oh no, I'm that girl.'

I imagine myself shopping on a warm sunny day in town with MJ or somebody and spotting him in a bar at the same moment he notices me and exchanging a smile and not even talking to each other but just that little thing causes a spark and something picks back up again.

So, here's the question: guess who I bumped into?

It wasn't a bar, it was the slightly less romantic location of outside-Burger-King. And there was no spark (or I don't know, was there a spark, despite the awkardness?) and no picking back up of anything. I had been happily walking along between my sister and 'Muffin, minding my own business and probably talking about some totty 'Muffin had just spotted on our walk from bar to bar, when I looked up and saw Alfie. He was standing with his legs wide apart, pelvis forward, hands in pockets, grinning and waiting for me to notice him. The first thing I noticed, even from a distance, was that the receeding hairline had gone into major retreat. Not to be bitchy, because I still totally would, but he looked terrible.

Let's take a moment to discuss the outfit. As someone who prides himself on labels and fashionable ensembles, and who had the front to appoint himself as a style guru to 'Muffin, he ought to be ashamed of himself. It was even worse than the woolly scarf teamed with short sleeved white shirt in a hot club fiasco, a look that will for ever be associated with Quentin Crisp in my mind (thanks to Wondy.) There were wide linen trousers. White ones. With a visible ghetto-gold coloured zipper. There were tan coloured deck shoe things which defy description. And a black Russell Brand-ish shirt, which had only one button fastened and bared a hairy chest and silver dog tags. If I'd had my wits about me, there would have been serious piss taking going down.

As it was I said hello, introduced my sister, endured a kiss on the cheek fairly well, and then thanked God that 'Muffin was there to carry on a sensible conversation as I edged closer to my sister for security and shook like a leaf, heart pounding like a frantic bird trying to escape from my chest. While I was talking to him, I noticed his mates over his shoulder grinning away at me knowingly. Alfie looked me up and down, looked my sister up and down, looked me up and down again and said: "You do know you look nothing alike?" We laughed and I told him I was the milkman's. I can't remember what else was said, I recall him referring to 'Muffin as his 'Padawan learner', and me joking that 'Muffin could teach him a thing or two and my voice being a little too clipped. Then the mate who gave me a lecture about self-respect on the Christmas night out (whom I regret listening to) came over and I made our excuses and left.

Here is 'Muffin's take on the encounter:

Chica: I can't remember his face, just his fod (forehead)! And what was the outfit like! My sis will be seriously questioning my taste in men!

'Muffin: He wears that quite often

Chica: He looked a show in it, like a reject off Eldorado
'Muffin: Like your sister said... the way he stood said it all... HAHAHAHAHAHA HE DID!!!
Chica: And yet, my heart was still hammering in my chest and I was shaking like a fucking leaf!
'Muffin: Yeah but you didn't show it, you were uber cool. Especially when you said we'd better get going. It was like "Yeah... whatever.... I'm with my mates and I ain't got time to be dazzled by your fod!"

Love that guy.

For the record, I was wearing my Peaches Geldof dress, and looked so much better than he did, even if I do say so myself!

And yes, still completely besotted, obviously.

Blonde for a Day

2007-04-12T22:19:00.000Z

Last Thursday, I innocently asked my hairdresser for some blonde highlights to give my hair a little pick me up for summer. I'd been considering it for a while, because when people describe my hair colour, the word 'mousey' tends to crop up, and there's not much sexy about that. I decided that I'd quite like to be Mischa Barton, or at least have her hair, and so I showed this picture to said hairdresser, whom we shall christen Maggie.

See? Quite tastefully blonde I thought, and not so drastically different from my natural hair colour that it would make me freak out, since I have never coloured my hair before. Maggie agreed on the choice, but warned me that my hair probably wouldn't be as light as this the first time she coloured it.

Cut to a while later, when I am washing the peroxide out of my hair, and I notice that my hair is feeling like straw, and looking like... well, straw. I went back downstairs to where Maggie and my sister and niece are waiting, and laughed nervously: it will look different when it's dry, right? They laughed and assured me it would, then sat and praised the colour as Maggie cut and blow dried my hair. It mustn't be so bad, I thought, reassured by the approving smiles of both sis and niece as Maggie dished out back handed compliments such as: it's so much better than your natural colour!

Oh my frickin' Lord. I will be posting pictures on Flickr shortly of the colour she gave me. Suffice to say, it was a shade of yellow that I like to call "Penelope Pitstop." It's not that I don't like blonde hair. When I was little, I was almost white blonde. But this wasn't even a nice colour, it was a brassy blonde, and nothing like what I asked for. Somebody had to die.

Well okay, maybe not. It's only hair after all. At worst, I would simply pull a Britney, but skip out the whole bearing children to K.Fed chapter and also probably drop the crotch flashing as well. When I say never again, I mean it.

Boyf was not pleased with the result either. When he saw it the next morning, he masked his displeasure with his usual mixture of tact and grace by uttering the following question: What have you done, you stupid cow?!

Technically, I was blonde for a long weekend, since I waited until Monday to buy a dark blonde dye to cover it. My hair is now looking pretty much exactly the same as it did before I let Maggie touch it, except it's kind of shinier.

As Alanis said: you live, you learn.

P.S. This post was written by a twenty-five year old woman. I turned a quarter of a century old on Easter Sunday. Bah. Birthday highlights to follow. No pun intended.

Haha, we're clever

2007-04-04T21:30:00.000Z

Oh no, I'm that girl

2007-04-04T20:44:00.000Z

Dude. I am truly concerned for my sanity. For one, I just began a post with the word 'dude', and for two, Alfonse is doing my head in. I just want to stop thinking about him. Even now, if I heard from him, you do not know the level of joy it would bring me. Why is that, when he's horrid? I can still feel the high I got from him. I think it's that and not him that I'm addicted to. But when will I ever feel that again?

Part of the problem I think is that the build up to our non-fling was so big and I went to such efforts that for it to be basically all over in the space of a week or two just feels like... what? already? and then we kind of just stopped talking until the next thing I hear is he's happily coupled up. Maybe it's anti-climax. I'm just scared because when it was good - admittedly for about five minutes - I was so happy. I got the love rush. I walked down the street grinning. I was extra cheerful and extra nice to people, the world was a brighter place. And now that's all gone I just cannot come to terms with the fact that I won't get it back.

I'll let you in on the depths of how pathetic I am. (Can there be more? I hear you cry.) Sometimes I try and trick myself into not thinking about him anymore by imagining that one day, something will happen, because I can't feel this strongly about someone for nothing. Therefore I can stop thinking about it now and relax because it will just take care of itself and fate will work its magic. I imagine myself shopping on a warm sunny day in town with MJ or somebody and spotting him in a bar at the same moment he notices me and exchanging a smile and not even talking to each other but just that little thing causes a spark and something picks back up again. I daydream about stuff like this all the time, usually whilst staring at pages of my dissertation or rows of books.

And then there are the times when I go in completely the opposite direction and just think screw it, I want to just run headlong into things like leaving my job or moving in with my boyfriend because I have this theory that the momentum might stop me thinking about him and being somewhere different will make me feel like I've moved on.

Do they make pills for this? Is there some sort of Glenn Close Rehabilitation Circle for Obsessive Rejects I can join?

This is not the me I want to be.

I wish I was Amy Winehouse. I could just write a kick ass song about it and then get drunk for three years.

Veruca Salt, much?

2007-04-03T19:12:00.000Z

Wondering how the preparations for Saturday are going? I'll spare you the ins and outs and summarise the whole ordeal in three succinct sentences, thusly:

1) Booooo, I hate Easter.

2) Stupid Jesus overshadowing my birthday.

3) You can stick your chocolate eggs!

Carry on.

Can't Get You Out Of My Head

2007-04-02T19:18:00.000Z

Okay, so, it's my birthday on Sunday and I'm planning to go out and celebrate my final hours as a 24 year old on Saturday night. Now, I know this might sound a little uptight, but organising anything like this when it's for your benefit - a birthday or celebration with you supposedly at the centre - stresses me out. I don't mind arranging celebrations for other people, or throwing together a night out just because, but I hate it when people have to show up for me. I figure if I feel awkward though, I'll just get drunk. Then I'll have someone confiscate my phone so I don't drunk dial anyone.

I do love deciding what to wear though. I'm even thinking I might break out the Kylie dress. I've had this dress for years but I've only wore it the once. I so need to rock the Mosquito in that dress... Whaddaya say 'Muffin?

...'Muffin?

Je Reviens

2007-04-02T14:43:00.000Z

Saturday, I went to see this.

I was pretty much expecting it to blow and went for nostalgic purposes, but it was decent enough and me and Dedalus had a laugh over it. Splinter's voice is just wrong. His accent is slurred: sensei had been at the sake. Not a patch on the old school films though, there weren't as many one-liners as I remember, and April had turned into some sort of Indiana Jones type figure. They left room for a sequel.

After the film, we went for milkshakes and Dedalus sprung that old chestnut: did I say anything stupid when we went out? on me about five times. Then he walked me to meet Boyf at La Tasca. Not weird in the least!

When I walked into the bar and saw Boyf waiting for me, I actually got this warm fuzzy feeling inside. I thought, damn, you're gorgeous. My boyfriend is seriously hot. I don't know how the fuck I scored him. We went for Mexican food and got drunk on a bottle of wine. Checked out the Everyman bar but weren't very impressed. Seem to remember him annoying me in the taxi on the way home by involving me in an argument about racism with the driver as if I was some sort of representative of all things politically correct. He thinks I'm naive because I disagree with him whenever he makes a generalisation.

Swings and roundabouts, eh?

Sunday we went for a bike ride in the park, which was lovely. Today, I am totally meant to be studying, but have spent the day looking for something to wear when I go out for my birthday next week. That's a whole 'nother can of worms.

I'm not thrilled about turning 25, but I much prefer it to the alternative of not turning 25.

Oh, also, I saw The Return, a movie which should be avoided at all costs. It was soooo slow, without any genuine shocks or surprises, and left me completely unmoved and uninterested. Okay, so I wasn't really expecting anything wonderful when I sat down to watch it, but even I enjoyed House of Wax. I will say one thing though; I really love Sarah Michelle Gellar's hair colour in it.

Although, judging from this picture it looks like blondes do have more fun.

Huh?

2007-03-30T13:33:00.000Z

So I just had a meeting with my tutor and he told me my work is first class and almost of publishable quality! Okay, so I know there is an 'almost' in there, but I'm pretty psyched none the less, especially since I've totally been dragging my ass over it. Maybe this is what I should be doing?

Lovin' it, lovin' it, lovin' it.

"I like honesty. It's sexier than hipbones."

2007-03-29T17:03:00.000Z

I've been in touch with Mybug a lot recently after he added me to his Facebook. He really comes out with some surprisingly insightful stuff sometimes and it's hard to believe he's only nineteen. I discovered that he wants to be a writer, but struggles to get his ideas on paper because of his ADHD. He told me about some of the stuff he likes to write about though and the dude has seriously genius ideas.

Then there's the other side to him. I'll let this exchange illustrate the other side of Mr. M.

Chica: My deadline is May 1st! I'm cacking it.
Mybug: Don't worry, pass or fail, I'll still go down on you.

As for his more sagacious incarnation, he summed up my crush on Alfie in the following terms (an edited version of preamble included for the sake of context):

Mybug: What do you want to be?
Chica: When I grow up??
Mybug: I know practically nothing about you apart from the fact you have a nice arse. So what do you think about when you wake up?
Chica: Sorry to say I currently think about someone I shouldn't
Mybug: Who is this Zorro of your dreams?
Chica: Some dickhead I should know better than to like
Mybug: What's this guy like? Do you even know why you like him?
Chica: I find him exciting, but he's a nob. He's a player, he loves himself
Mybug: Maybe that's why you like him
Chica: I don't normally go for bastards
Mybug: A mixed combination of wanting to stand out in the crowd in front of him and subconsciously prove to yourself that you're special and trying to maybe be a bit more daring yourself. You did say before you always used to want to take the hardest route

Isn't that quite wise coming from a nineteen year old boy?*

Apparently we are going to sit and drink rum all night and exchange stories. This may not happen though; we're also going to get a flat in Mississippi and keep chickens.

*Oh my God. I've just realised that when this all began, he hadn't even turned nineteen yet. Wrong.

'

2007-03-24T13:43:00.000Z

As my dear friend 'Muffin, confidante to the stars, Lord of the book stamp, apostle of the apostrophe (read on, all will become clear), has been too busy to update his blog lately, I thought I should do my bit to spread some of his pearls of wisdom, a sort of blogging PA if you will. Although it is obviously no substitute for the lessons and insights the wise one offers from betwixt his own fair lips, here are the highlights of our latest MSN conversation.

On the 'What I'm Listening To' function and appropriate music

Rewind - Paolo Nutini - Chica

'Muffin says: Stop listening to Paolo Nutini!!!!!!
Chica says: hahaha
'M: You (Alfie) lover!!
C: It's the CD (he made me), I found it!!!
'M: OK well what do u think of this one......

Do Ya Think I'm Sexy - Rod Stewart - 'Muffin

On driving etiquette

Chica says: It's a nice day isn't it?
Chica says: Was it nice being out in ur car on a day like this?
'Muffin says: Yeah it was actually
'M: Had my shades on! lol
C: hehehe
C: Cruising for chicks
'M: Not in a Rover love!
C: lol
C: Why not, nobby does it in a fucking Megane

On discovering we have the same phone and the importance of grammar

'Muffin says: Have u got the Houses of Parliament as your screen saver on it?
Chica says: I found the apostrophe!!!
C: No, cherries
'M: WHERE????
'M: TELL ME!!!
C: When ur writing a text, hold down the hash key and it brings up all the shortcuts, u have to move the arrow to the right one, and then I think you press 5
'M: Aaahh hold on I'll just get my phone
C: I nearly put in my msg 'notice the apostrophe ('Muffin)' but I sent it to everyone so thought they'd all think we were weird
'M: I HAVENT GOT ONE!!!
C: Are you sure??
'M: Found it!
C: See - I complete you!! lol
'M: Have u got the msg?
C: No my battery's dying and it wont let me view my msgs
'M: I've sent u an apostrophe

On pet ownership

Chica says: I cant wait to take him to the park, I'm going to put him in the basket on the front of my bike and then when we get there he won't be too tired
'Muffin says: Bloody hell it's Dorothy and Toto

On how to get over a broken heart

'Muffin says: Snap out of it
'Muffn says: Look at the lovely day
Chica says: I'm not down about it, I've just accepted that I'm stuck on him but nothing's gonna happen
'M: U should be out playing with little Bertie and giving Boyf a BJ in the garden or something
C: LOL
C: Boyf's in work, and I've got a cold so I can't breathe through my nose!
'M: HAHAHAHAHAHA
C: I'm so blogging that

Alloway Grove

2007-03-24T12:32:00.000Z

It's a beautiful day outside and I had plans to meet up with Dedalus that I've had to cancel. We were going to do lunch at Tabac. I'm full of cold, again, and feel like my head is in a vice (yet I'm still blasting music from my laptop speakers.) I blame my erratic sleeping schedule since Bertie came to live with us. He's really very good, but he's just exhausting! At the moment, I'm allowing him to eat a pair of Boyf's pyjama bottoms because it's keeping him quiet.

Yesterday, my swanky new phone arrived. It's a Samsung D900 and I've just about got to grips with it. It's not even pink ya'll - I went for performance over girlieness! I guess I really am growing up. I purged my contacts list and it's quite shocking how many people I've fallen out of touch with. I have to say there are only about twelve people on there that I actually bother texting. And that's including Alfie who I never text anymore for obvious reasons but to whom I forwarded my new number in a big group message that began with a casual "Hi all." (I think I can record video on it and put it on here, but that's a bit advanced for someone who just figured out how to store her sent messages.) But looking at my meagre contacts makes me wonder just how I'm going to use up all this credit I've paid for. In the old days, I used to blow about fifty quid on my phone over the weekend.

Yes, I'm still mourning the old days for the foreseeable future. Girl can't help it. But at least I'm not carrying those 200 messages from him around with me anymore, you'll be glad to know MJ! They're safely stored on my old phone and will be put away to gather dust.

Anyhoo, the studying is not going very well. I need to write something a bit more meaty on alternative readings of Dorcas in Toni Morrison's Jazz, and then I need to bell hooks a bit of my chapter on the burden of representation. My chapter on The Edible Woman and Kafka's "A Hunger Artist" is looking a bit like a wasteland. Did I mention my deadline is May first? Meh, at least I have an idea of what actually needs to be done. That's progress for me, right?

Mummy's Little Hero

2007-03-23T11:41:00.000Z

A quick post while Bertie is playing out in the garden. (Who knew I'd turn into a Mummy Blogger so quickly?) He had his second round of injections on Wednesday (squealed like a pig, than ran to me for a cuddle), and the vet gave him a check up. Her findings were quite amusing.

Lovely vet lady: Ah, he appears to have an undescended testicle, but we'll forgive him for that because he's only little and it might still happen.

Boyf: Is that why he hasn't barked yet?

*chortle*

The other is in the Albert Hall.

9 to 5

2007-03-19T12:08:00.000Z

There's something terribly wrong. After a week playing mum to Bertie during which I left the house once, to buy him food and toys, I am actually happy to be back in work. Not that I suddenly love the place or anything, but to be out in the world, completing tasks (albeit menial ones) and interacting with society at large - why, it's a miracle!

This will last all of five minutes, or until I get some chump at the counter with a chip on their shoulder, whichever comes first.

Maybe it's because the day kicked off to such a good start when I bumped into 'Muffin on his way to lectures outside our workplace - quote: "I'd recognise those hips anywhere." (I have only had two hours sleep, so it could also be delirium.)

RND Rocks

2007-03-16T23:03:00.000Z

Click on the big red nose and make a difference.

Go on, it'll make you feel all warm inside!

Want a Man? Get a Dog

2007-03-16T15:15:00.000Z

Quick update on some of the other, non-Alfie men in my life:

Boyf believes Bertie loves me more than him and is jealous. This is because Bertie cries for me any time I go upstairs, take a shower, or am otherwise engaged, and the only way Boyf could get him to stop was by wrapping him up in a pair of my pyjamas. That's devotion for you.

Bertie has not barked yet, except for in his sleep, when he let out a series of baby yaps followed by an unconvincing growl and twitching paws. He also still makes a sucking noise as if he is feeding from his mum in his sleep. Too adorable.

'Muffin and I have had conflicting schedules over the past couple of weeks and have not had a decent gossip in ages! Is gloating over his swanky new mobile phone and counselling me on the wisdom (like what I did there?) of forwarding my soon-to-be new number on to Alfie.

MJ turned 25 and rather than shagging everything, went home early with his darling boyfriend, Spanky, and admitted he was happy to do so. I'm so proud.

Dedalus and I have not seen each other since the night we went out, despite many invitations and protestations on his part. Accused me of being cold and gets cross if I don't text him back quickly enough. We are in very weird territory indeed.

Have been texting Mybug on and off. Told him he looked good in his uniform, he replied: You'd look good in many uniforms. He called me up for a chat on Monday 'because there was nothing on the telly.' Mentioned seeing me and Dedalus out that Friday, said Dedalus was 'giving him daggers' and 'staring him out'. Also said I looked really drunk. Cheers, love.

Guillermo (sort of in my life?) is now a fully fledged grown up and is buying a flat! What what!

My lovely Dad is 52 today! Ordered him a special edition DVD of The Producers but it has not yet arrived. I predict that he will celebrate tonight by watching the Comic Relief does Fame Academy final. He loves him some reality shows.

Latest text from Yank: Good looks catch the eyes but good personality catches hearts. You're blessed with both! FLATTERED? Don't be, it was sent to me, I just wanted you to read it!

Blame It on the Boogie

2007-03-15T08:39:00.000Z

Apologies for the regression. It's my indulgence in sad songs what does it. With a dose of Lily Allen to temper things on my more kick ass days.

In heavy rotation on the mp3 player:

Paolo Nutini - Last Request. Can't actually get through the whole thing.
Amy Winehouse - Back to Black. The song, and the album!
Aretha Franklin - Walk On By. The most beautifully sung lyrics ever?
Etta James -I'd Rather Go Blind. This is particularly to blame I think.
Lily Allen - Shame For You. This is on a good day.
George Michael - I Can't Make You Love Me. This is not.

It'd be okay if it was just sad songs; I'd avoid them. But so many songs we danced to remind me of him, that even a bloody soulless dance track can get to me. Anyone else cried over the lyrics I found a place / Where we can boogie?

*allows pause for tumbleweed*

No? For me it conjures up sneaking off with him at the Christmas party, being led away by the hand, the blue of his eyes, and his truly awful singing voice in my ear.

Beyonce moves me. Beyonce.

Did I mention it's been three months?

Get Over It

2007-03-14T17:26:00.000Z

It's been almost three months. It was a blip on the radar, a drop in the ocean, an abortive, clumsy, hopeless, going-nowhere, hardly happened, flirtation. Rhetorical question: when will I stop thinking about him?

Seriously. When I saw him last month, it was like he wasn't even the same guy I fell for. I didn't even want him around. That's probably because of the giant slap in the face that was the I-don't-want-a-girlfriend-except-for-the-girl-I-met-about-five-minutes-after-our-first-date-which-you-will-find-out-about-from-'Muffin-in-about-a-month-and-a-half's-time debacle. And yet he's still here, in my head, in my dreams, the subject of every song I hear, the body I long for every time I see a couple in love. Why, why, why, when he makes me feel like I could never be good enough, that it was preposterous for me to even think I could possibly have him?

Why do I still want him so much?

All the cool kids are doing it...

2007-03-13T17:27:00.000Z

Ooh, this was cute. Lovingly and respectfully ripped from Brandy and Wondy:

Read my VisualDNA™ Get your own VisualDNA™

New Kid on the Block

2007-03-12T14:51:00.000Z

I know I've been quiet on both blogging and commenting fronts for the past few days. But I can explain. You see, there's a new man in my life. And, to be frank, I can not stop looking at him. I could sit and watch him play for hours. And when he snuggles up to me and tucks in his little nose, well, I could just die.

He has a much, much cooler name, selected by Boyf, but as with all the important people in my life, he'll be given a *BNI alias. That alias shall be: Bertie. He's eight weeks old and so tiny!

Also, I didn't buy the I HEART DAD t-shirt like I said I would, because, as I think you'll agree, Mister is cute enough without it.

I haven't slept for two days. He's totally worth it.

She's Gotta Have It

2007-03-08T21:06:00.000Z

News item: I think I may be developing an addictive personality. In that, I'm seemingly becoming addicted to stuff, not that people just can't get enough of my anecdotes. A plethora of evidence is mounting up to support this hypothesis. Shrugging off the obvious temptations of alcohol and powdery substances (unless blusher), I have a different devil at my back entirely. I make my case forthwith:

Exhibit A) Alfie. Enough said.

Exhibit B) I cannot stop shopping. Shopping makes everything better. It is the joy in my life, the marrow in my bones, the giant gaping weakness in my budget. It's starting to get repugnant. I'm throwing money away that could go towards much more valuable ends. I talk of moving out, buying cars, earning enough to support both myself and a poor defenceless animal, and then blow hundreds of pounds on tops. Hundreds of pounds. It starts off innocently enough, with a couple of t shirts for maybe a tenner each or so, which I tell myself I need for work, and then, before I know it, I'm lusting after a dress on Asos for £54 that Peaches Geldof has. But I don't just want the dress, I throw things in my basket until it's over two hundred pounds worth, then I guiltily delete things I can live without so it's around a more respectable looking £100. Then I don't buy it, until encouraged to do so by my very irresponsible friends, sister, niece, boyfriend, and mum. Then I can blame it on peer pressure. Not satisfied with frittering away cash on clothes for myself, I have now firmly resolved that the minute - the very minute - I get a dog, I am buying it this.

Today, I theoretically spent £33.00 at Pucci (I didn't click on check out.) Before the guilt made me remove items from my basket, it was £103.50.

My name is Chica, and I'm an Alfashopaholic.

Zero

2007-03-08T15:04:00.000Z

I started writing this post in my head last night as I was drifting off to sleep, so it may seem a little disjointed. Last night, it seems Wondy and I had the same telly night! I too watched Louise Redknapp on The Truth About Size Zero. It was really interesting and exposed the quest for such ridiculously tiny proportions as the opposite of glamorous. She was unable to take any pleasure from anything in her life, became moody and lethargic, and was physically sick. By the end of the show, she fit into a size zero dress they had sent over from LA. It was the goal she had been working towards throughout the programme, working out in the gym with the dress hung where she could see it as motivation. The moment she put it on was totally anti climactic. She looked emaciated and depressed. You could see the bones in her back like a tiny little sardine spine. Then she changed out of the dress and threw it in the bin before heading out for dinner with her girl friends, and looked happy for the first time since the beginning of the show.

What made me angry was that there were a couple of photographers and personal trainers that were spurring her on and telling her that she looked great, when she looked really unhealthy and miserable. One photographer applauded her new sleeker lines, comparing her to a Porsche. She was a UK size 4! That's skin and bone. It's so dangerous. I've done a lot of reading on anorexia nervosa for the work I'm doing on my dissertation, and some psychoanalysts suggest that eating disorders represent a desire for oblivion, nothingness, a loss of autonomy. Who would ever encourage somebody to starve themselves into oblivion?

It also made me think about my relationship with my own body. I'm happy with my body shape. Sure, my tummy could be flatter, my boobs could be bigger, my legs could be longer, and so on, but overall I'm not too worried, even though my weight can fluctuate. My insecurities lie elsewhere - it's fair to say, I hate the way I look. During the height of the Alfie debacle, I lost a bit of weight, because I was in a constant state of anxiety and found it impossible to finish a meal. I've put it all back on since, but there was a point when my skinny jeans hung off me, and would have fallen down if I didn't wear a belt. They're still a little baggy. What's crazy, and I hate to admit it even, is that sometimes I look back and think, it would be great if I could drop that weight so fast again. Let me just repeat something: I was in a constant state of anxiety and found it impossible to finish a meal. I enjoy food; I think it's one of life's greatest pleasures, and the one thing me and Boyf do have in common is that we both love eating out in restaurants and filling our faces. So if even someone who feels generally happy with their figure can feel the pressure to be thinner, I can't imagine the pressure on someone who is naturally a bigger shape and made to feel bad about it.

And with that, I am off to dunk a Dairy Milk into a cup of tea!

Chronic Academy

2007-03-07T19:56:00.000Z

For charity in this great country, we have developed a tradition of watching celebrities make tits of themselves on the telly in order to wring money out of us, the viewing public, usually in the form of telephone voting. For Comic Relief does Fame Academy, this involves murderous renditions of some of our most beloved musical masterpieces.

And I love it. Sometimes, it's so bad, that I have to turn the channel over and watch a couple of adverts because I'm afraid I'll cringe so hard I'll turn myself inside out. It must take some courage to get up there when you know you've got a voice that sounds like Cyndi Lauper got stuck in a blender. With a litter of kittens. It's all for an amazing cause, so good on them! I'm hoping I never actually turn inside out though...

This year, I'm backing: for the boys, Tim Vine.

09011 32 30 12

Brilliant. And also, looks a bit like my dad.

For the girls, Mel Giedroyc.

09011 32 30 11

Equally hilarious, and I've always had a soft spot for Mel & Sue. I even managed to spell her name right without googling it.

But the real talking point of the night for me has to be: what eejit let Angellica Bell go braless in that dress for that performance? This is a family show, yes?

P.S. See what I did with the title? I could so be a tabloid hack, yo.

Or, as it came out in my head when I proof read this post (yeah, you bet your ass I proof read!) 'tabloid yack, ho.' Now there's a new one for the old passport.

Ghetto Princess

2007-03-06T10:52:00.000Z

Happy Birthday MJ!!

You rock my world.

*kiss it, kiss it, spank it*

WARNING: Contains Extremely Cute Puppies

2007-03-05T18:42:00.000Z

Okay. I always knew that I would buy another dog, because the house just feels empty without Puppy and I really think a house is not a home without a small furry creature running around in minority rule. But I didn't want to jump straight into it, so I decided to wait until my birthday was close. It's just over a month away now, so I thought I'd better start looking if I wanted to buy a puppy before then. However, I have encountered a small problem, which I will detail for you thusly.

How in the name of Xenu am I meant to decide which is cuter between these little puppies? Is a question I often hear my boyfriend wondering aloud, and yet I never thought I would find myself in the same dilemma:

Repeat after me: Awwwwwww!

&c. Can I have them all??

I think I want the ruby boy. But I would have to make two 160 mile round trips. Or I could take a half hour drive and pick up the dog in the first photo. Sounds like the decision should be obvious, but my brain kind of goes all gooey when I see such cuteness.

Ideas?

Cheerleader

2007-03-05T13:28:00.000Z

This morning on my way to work, I had a lovely surprise in that I bumped into my friend, 'Muffin, who was on his way to sort some uni stuff, and kitted out in his sportswear. As if I needed another reason to love this man, here is an email he sent me shortly afterwards, reprinted here with kind permission from the author:

From: 'Muffin
To: Chica
Sent: Mon 05/03/2007 09:04
Subject: Lovin' the outfit

Hi hun,

Just wanted to say I’m loving the leggings and boots!

What do you think of the tracksuit then? Do I

a) Look like a muscle bound sports freak, with rippling biceps and a body to die for?

Or

b) A forty-five year old failed football manager of a struggling Sunday league team?

In fact, don’t answer that lol

Hope you have a great day

Xx

You need things like that of a Monday morning!

Beep Beep, Beep Beep, Yeah

2007-03-03T17:06:00.000Z

I mentioned before the New Year that I wanted to look into getting a car and swot up on my driving skills (which are currently lying dormant and abandoned underneath my Scrabble playing skills and above my knitting skills, which lapsed about three weeks after my Nanna taught me when I was about eight.) It's something I toy with every now and then but I know would be a little impractical and a huge drain on my shoe shopping budget (such sacrifices are possibly worth it if I could have one of these cute baby pink bugs!) It makes more sense - and is better for the environment - to use public transport for my commute to work, so it would sit pretty much unused in my driveway for three days of the week. And really, I see buying a car as quite a big commitment, having to invest in all such things as insurance and road tax and services and have you seen the price of petrol these days?

Today is one of those days I sit and fantasise about having a car though, since I currently have no handy friends-with-transport at my disposal who would allow me to boss them around Ikea while I buy bed linen. Yes, that is what I would have done with my day today had I in my possession a sweet ride, a trip to Ikea, and, if he was available, a visit with the 'Muffin, who I haven't seen properly for days and miss terribly! He is a proper friend, and good example for all silly Dedalus types out there. 'Muffin and I share things in common, as well as our points of difference to make it interesting, and we get on without trying, and yet he doesn't try and turn every meeting into a scene from a really dysfunctional romcom. I've struck "platonomy" with him, more valuable than oil and not such an enemy to ducks and/or other aquatic lifeforms. All he asks is the occasional flash of my cleavage, and he's happy... Ahem.

Anyway, back to the car thing. I'm not looking into it seriously yet, but I do think it would give me that bit more independence. And it would be handy for driving to uni. So I might get a couple of friends together who know cars and go looking over the next few weeks, just to see what's out there.

Then of course, I just have to remember how to drive again...

Before the Law

2007-03-03T11:25:00.000Z

Had a couple of busy days re: Dedalus. We met up to see a movie on Thursday (Hot Fuzz) and had milkshakes and fries at the diner. It was nice. The movie was funny, but criminally underutilised Bill Bailey. Both of him.

Incidentally, on the way home from town, my bus was pulled over by a siren-flashing police vehicle, and a male officer got on the bus. He started walking slowly to the back; everyone just sort of fell out of conversation and stared, waiting for someone to make a run for it or some scuffle to occur. He looked at the guy sitting adjacent to me and said, "Can we have a chat with you, mate?" The guy said, "Yeah, okay," accompanied him ever so amenably off the bus, and was promptly arrested. I have to admit that there was a moment where I wondered if he was actually going to turn out to be a male stripper, and make someones birthday. But we all know how my mind works by now.

"Tickets, please."

Talking of movies, you remember the whole number 23 debacle? Well, Dedalus has since worked out that both his long term relationships lasted 23 months. And he split up with girl #1 on the 20th of March. And girl #2 on the 13th of October. Spooky shit!

So, yesterday - the second day, of the third month might I add - we got our glad rags on and hit the town for drinks, to celebrate Dedalus' new job, which he starts on Monday. The night started off well, I wore my new shoes (which hurt like I can't even think what might hurt as much, some medieval torture device perhaps, or improperly operated eyelash curlers), and he was on top form, in a comedic sense. However, by the time we left Modo's, the night had taken a different turn. (There was a weird moment on the way to Modo's actually where he slowed down and sort of leaned in, but I was like, "Keep walking, dude, keep walking.") We went to Mybug's bar - he's really cute in his uniform - for a quick one and then stepped outside to deliberate where to go next. It was raining really heavily so I took off my coat and used it to shelter my hair and he ducked under it too and started trying to kiss me.

I was not having it. Anyway, eventually, I untangled myself from the situation and we went to Tea Factory, at which point I realised that I'd lost one of my beloved hoop earrings and had been walking around with only one in like a scurvy buccaneer (my eye makeup was probably looking a bit Jack Sparrow by this point too.) I am so upset. Switched to drinking water and stumbled through a chat about how much we have in common and how we don't even have to try we both just get on so well. I suggested that was a good foundation for a friendship and didn't necessarily mean anything more should happen. He said he wanted more and he'd been really nervous about meeting me that night. I said he was feeling like this because of girl #2. He said no, it had always been me.

Bars were closing and this seemed like a good time to make a sharp exit in any case. Before we parted ways, he asked if he could see me again over the weekend and I said we'd sort something out, but I do think a spot of space is called for.

I'm shocked he is doing this when not only does he know about Boyf, he knows (a little) about Alfie. Or maybe that is why he's doing this... maybe he thinks I am looking for something else... Aw, crap.

They say it's your birthday...

2007-03-03T11:10:00.000Z

Happy Birthday to Heather!!!

I unwittingly celebrated for you last night, girl! I couldn't resist re-posting this pic as Wondy did a few days ago, because it's so utterly fabulous. It's a small way of marking the occasion on my little old blog, but there's big love behind it!

Have fun!

Take Heart

2007-03-02T14:06:00.000Z

I may not be going to the splendorous event that is the Take That Beautiful World Tour, and have lost out on the best tickets in the whole god damned world, but I do have a rather magnificent chocolate leather holdall winging it's way to me:

It's for my birthday, off my parents. I ordered it myself last night. My birthday isn't for another month. Tee. Hee.

This bag says to me: Yes, I'm 25, I know exactly where I'm going, and I'm fabulous!

No pressure now, bag.

Just realised it looks like it has a grumpy face... and is now reminding me a little bit of this guy.

Fastest Fingers First

2007-03-02T13:28:00.000Z

I set my alarm clock this morning so that I could get up and buy myself some beautiful, enchanted, mesmerising Take That tickets. I loaded up the ticket website, tried to log in before the tickets went On Sale at 9, to no avail. Bitch kept crashing. I'd completely forgotten my password, so I wanted to sign in early so that I could change it. No such luck. Should've done it last night like any reasonable person with half a functioning brain would have done. But no. Tried to buy tickets from 9 o'clock onwards. At 25 past, it finally let me through to the booking page, and I had there on the screen in front of me, two reserved tickets, for Block B.

Block B! I could have smelled Jason Orange's sweat from there. So, I gets to the log in page and ask them to reset my password, typing frantically. By the time I'd entered in the new 30 digit long (exaggerating) mess of numbers and letters they'd assigned me, my 60 second allowance period was up and the tickets were released. Released, from my sweaty little clutches!

Motherfucker.

I tried for a further two hours and it just kept crashing. The closest I got was the search page, which I sat and watched for about half an hour, before it crashed at a mocking 5 minutes to go. Then I gave up, because I had to go and meet my friend and give her some interview advice, because she's applying for a university library job.

I consoled myself with the idea that maybe they'd add more dates and I could be more armed and ready for the next ticket sale. This was not to be. In the time it took for me to walk up to the top of the street and back, have a quick chat with my friend, which took less than an hour, more dates were announced, tickets went on sale, and virtually sold out. I'm trying alternative ticket sites now for the few that seem to be left (the other ticket site have stopped selling them.) They're still crashing.

Woe is me. I'm never going to get such a good chance to smell Jason Orange's sweat again.

Got Wondy?

2007-02-28T12:41:00.000Z

'Muffin's recent post reminded me that I started writing this a couple of days ago, but got swept up in the news that ALFIE HAS BEEN DUMPED BY THE AIR HOSTESS... I mean, swept up in the continuous mirth of Wondy after show parties, getting drunk with Orlando Bloom - who sadly, failed to win anything or be nominated at all (I spent much time commiserating with the fellow, whilst discreetly polishing my virtual award) - and eating burgers and swearing with Helen Mirren, who popped by in the hopes of our esteemed Host's autograph and a borrow of her lippy.

In case you haven't heard: I'm a Wondy Winner!

I would just like to thank my two main influences and fellow stylish females: the much maligned, elegantly coiffed and mistress of glamorous hosiery Nora Batty (pictured), and unlikely fashionista (curly green wig and all), Grotbags, who has inspired me since childhood. But most of all I would like to thank Wondy, for bestowing this title upon me so generously despite my tawdry association with leggings (despite my resolutions), and unbreakable habit of getting dressed in the dark.

Wondy, you're the best.

Much Ado About Nothing

2007-02-27T17:15:00.000Z

Okay, quick update: he came, he saw, he conquered.

Meh, not really.

Last night, I got kinda nervous about the possibility of seeing him today. What would I do, what would I say? Would the smug and blatantly delighted look on my face give the game away that I knew he had been unceremoniously DUMPED? (There could have been a ceremony, involving bonfires and photographs and possibly pubic hair... I was about to say there should be a ceremony but the pubic hair thing put me off.)

But I digress.

I channeled all my nervous energy into deciding what to wear. Despite the fact that I had already ironed a perfectly cute outfit, including a little belted pleated skirt, before I even knew Alfie could be hitting up my workplace. But everything about Alfie makes me doubt myself and makes me feel not good enough, so naturally this informs my decision making skills re: fashion. This is how I found myself hand washing three garments in the bathroom sink at 11 o'clock last night. I left them to drip dry in the shower, and funnily enough they were still soaking wet less than 12 hours later. So I turned the heating up real high and draped them artistically over the radiators. I decided on the blue dress (again, it's my dress of the moment) and my new boots, and went to work feeling physically ill at the prospect of an encounter.

He came in about half three. I was answering the telephone as he walked past, and he mimicked my greeting. Then he went into the staff room, and I went up to the second floor.

The End.

So not worth the effort. But you know it had to be done!

The Spy Who Loved Me

2007-02-26T21:45:00.000Z

What do I do with this succinct yet horror inspiring text message?

'Muffin: Alfie been in. Single now. Might be in tomoz.

So much to fret about...

I'm cool. Really. Swear to God.

*gulp*

I'm working on the assumption that he won't come in, or that he'll come in before my shift starts. That way, I'll actually be able to make it in to work.

Any advice? Any one??

UPDATE: Hahahahahahahaha, he got dumped, hahahahahahahaha.

Wooooh, head rush.

It Takes Two

2007-02-26T09:17:00.000Z

Last night I had a date with Dedalus. We hit the tapas bar for sangria, then took in Jim Carrey's new movie, The Number 23. As an aside, Dedalus was born on the fifteenth of August. 15 + 8 = 23. There are 23 letters in his name. You think I should be worried?

It was so strange meeting him. It was like a rerun of the Alfie date, without the nudity or the part where I allowed myself to sleep in a bed underneath a fake fur throw. (Dude, you'll be installing mirrored ceilings next, wanna stop being such a ~~kissable~~ cliche?) I got a lift into town and was dropped off in the same place. I walked the same walk. And I waited in the same spot where Alfie stood waiting for me. Then I drank two sangrias and felt tipsy: nothing new there. (Staff in that bar must be like, heyyy, there's that whore again!)

Similarities end there. Dedalus and I actually converse and everything, without me doing all the work, it's totally refreshing. I wore my blue dress and the Faith boots. He looked pretty cute.

We'd got to talking about tricky subjects again the night before on MSN, but luckily no mention was made while we were out. He kept saying stuff like that he wished I was his girlfriend and he wants me to know he never stopped liking me and did I ever like him back then? I was firm but fair, and asked him if he was sure it was a good idea to see each other if that was how he felt. But he reckoned he was fine with it and he knew nothing was going to happen, it just mattered to him how I felt about things in the past. I think we should maybe cut out the 2 am chats though.

The movie itself was interesting but a little convoluted towards the end. It introduced certain characters too late for you to care and they drive towards wrapping up the plot a little too overtly, if that makes sense. It's like the ending of a Scooby Doo episode where they explain everything and pull off the scary mask to reveal it's actually been the janitor all along. Worth seeing though, if only to freak Dedalus "23" out.

Awkward moment of the night: "What was the name of the bar we always went to? Studio 50-something? Maybe it works out to three times 23... oh no, that's..." - Dedalus

Amy Rocks the House

2007-02-24T12:37:00.000Z

OMG, Amy Winehouse was AMAZING! I went to see her at the Liverpool Academy last night. The beehive was bigger than I've ever seen it, which was good because it meant more of her was visible to me, being a short arse (or three and a half apples tall, according to 'Muffin's measurements. Have to admit he has a good eye, guessing my vital stats in one, so I'll defer to his superior knowledge.) I had the usual problem of viewing the gig between the bobbing heads and various haircuts of those in front of me, and spending half the night on tippy toe. But it was plain to see from even my vantage point that Amy is getting Olsen Twin skinny. She has the tiniest little waist ever, and her arms are starting to look a bit Nicole Richie. Size Zero can not support all that hair, Amy, s'all I'm saying.

Anyway, the whole set was brilliant. She has the coolest and most enthusiastic backing singers in the whole wide world. I want to go again right now; I'd go just to see them. Her voice was amazing. She incorporated a bit of Lauryn Hill's Doo Wap (That Thing) into the show, and finished with The Zutons' Valerie. Girl knows her audience. I properly love her. Seriously: it's up there with Take That.

Her support act was rather good as well; Lila tried to get tickets just to see them. Check them out here: Mr Hudson and the Library.

After the gig, Boyf wanted to go to the bar where Mybug works ('cos if I've been somewhere he hasn't he sulks about it.) So off we toddled. I spotted him behind the bar but town was booming and he was really busy so I didn't say hi straight away. He looked kinda handsome.

"This is my church." - Faithless

We ordered some drinks and pinched a 'reserved' booth. A gang of girls joined us. Boyf is pretty trashed already at this point, since he has been drinking three times faster than me. He was trying to order some more beverages when Mybug walked past. I called out to him and he smiled, said "All right girl!" and dived on top of me. Girls looked bemused. He asked what we wanted and I introduced him to the Boyf. He brought us some drinks over - I was drinking £6 cosmopolitans! - and refused to take the cash for them. Then when Boyf went the loo he leaned over the bar for a little chat and a kiss. No tongues!

Had a giggle over Boyf asking the toilet attendant if he had any "Muscular."

Attendant: No... I've got some "Masculine."
Boyf: Oh... *realising that's what he'd meant* Nah, I'll leave it.

I realise that's a total location joke, but oh, how we laughed!

Taxi home, portion of chips, bed. Pure class, eh?!

Not Big

2007-02-22T20:42:00.000Z

I know I'm blogging too much today, that's what working part time does to you, but can I just say, for the record, that I hate hate hate chain letters? And I never send them on. I live with the threat of 2 years of bad luck just because I don't want to inflict the possibility of 2 years worth of bad luck on anyone else. So I say to all out there, don't be so SELFISH! I especially hate the ones that promise great glory/your true love, or ones that trick you into opening them by bearing a subject such as HEY, I GOT THE JOB, I'M MOVING TO JAPAN!!! So you click on it thinking, 'Heidi is moving to Japan?! What did I miss?!?' and then, boom, 2 years of bad luck as punishment for taking a passing interest in a so-called friends life. I don't need to be ambushed with bad luck on myspace, I have that ticking time bomb of karma to contend with.

Don't do it people, just say no! We can cast off this ugly yoke of oppression, together!

Don't Label Me

2007-02-22T14:35:00.000Z

I'm liking my new blog layout. I know it's not very original but it's neat-looking and the colours are pretty. A change is as good as a holiday, they say! Cannot get labels to function no matter what I try though. All the right boxes are checked. I don't even particularly feel my blog needs labels, but because it's not working and I don't know why, it's eating away at me like... like, some sort of flesh eating ant and I am the picnic!

An Alfie label would be pretty redundant anyways, huh?

Bizarrely, I seem to be getting some of my interests back. This may sound weird, but I stopped enjoying a lot of the things I traditionally enjoyed while I was consumed by the Alfie stuff with the burning fire of a thousand suns. I'm even able to converse with people about a multitude of subjects again! Much to the relief of everyone I know. I'm currently viewing my time with Alfie with a mixture of great amusement and incredulity. (Ya'll don't have to congratulate me, I'm patting myself of the back... with my good arm.)

Stella got her groove back, and she likes it.

I Wanna Six You Up

2007-02-22T13:59:00.000Z

I've been tagged by the lovely April! I have to list six random and/or strange facts about myself, then tag 6 others to do the same. Hmmm, I have a feeling I've done very similar meme's before, so apologies for any repetition. Read on for random strangeness.

1. I'm a walking disaster area, for whom even the most basic tasks prove to be too much. I hurt my right arm on the bus yesterday and it's quite painful. It hurts even to type. I've written like, 4 posts since then. My dedication to blogging is so great :P Meh, it hurts when I'm still anyway, I may as well be typing and taking my mind off it! I couldn't sleep last night because of it. It's a handbag injury; I think I twisted my arm the wrong way while picking mine up to get off at my stop.

2. I'm frugal with my lips. I've only kissed 7 boys. I should say men, though some of them were boys when I kissed them. 'Men' would just make that sentence sound less like I was writing this in my diary at the back of a science class, dotting the i's with love hearts. Given my time over, I would only have kissed two of them. One of them is Boyf.

3. I'm still one of the crap kids in the shallow end. I can't really swim. I had a scary experience in a public swimming baths when I was little, but I am not afraid of the water. While holidaying in Toulouse, I swam a little for the first time. I began practising with the aid of a pair of neon pink armbands and a child's Finding Nemo float, which I purchased for myself.

4. I almost passed myself off as intelligentsia (me!) I've stayed at Oxford University twice, once on an access course (where they let young people from disadvantaged areas get a taste of the good life!), and once while interviewing for a place there. I'm not sorry I didn't get in; I think I would've hated it. Nice deer park at Magdalen though. You have to sign a disclaimer before they let you into the Bod library saying you promise not to set anything on fire. Tee hee.

5. I've replaced hot sex with hot beverages! I really like drinking tea, wild child that I am. Boyf makes the best cup of tea ever. When we are both off work, he gets up first in the morning, makes me some tea, and then wakes me up when it's ready. He also puts the kettle on when I get home from work. We call them love cups of tea :P

6. I'm an evil genius, who spends many hours plotting devious schemes of revenge. I don't get along with Boyf's family, due to a dispute many years ago with his sister, and the fact that his mother is doolally. Once, also many years ago, we looked after their house while they were away. I only stayed there one night, the atmosphere in that house is just horrible. But I helped some in the big clean up before they came home. I forced Boyf to vacuum downstairs while I brushed up on the landing. I looked around up there and couldn't find a bin to empty the little pile of lint into, so I opened his sister's door and threw it in there (hahahahahahaha!) Small pleasures, people, small pleasures.

Now for the lucky six! I don't think I even know six bloggers?! Do this if you feel like it, unless you are 'Muffin, in which case I demand six facts, since you are still brand new. I'll even let you put down the one about how fast you can shelve a trolley. I'm good like that, see.

Oh! Darling

2007-02-22T12:53:00.000Z

My mum has a really challenging job working with troubled teenagers in care. The way the care system in this country is managed is criminally messed up and as a result it's often difficult for people in the profession to make a difference. The kids my mum works with have really bad behavioural problems and they can often be abusive towards her and her colleagues. She's called terrible names on a daily basis and has been physically attacked. Despite this, she says the worst part of her job is dealing with the ineffective managers, whose priorities are all out of joint. Frankly, they sound like downright bullies, and clueless ones at that. That's why I love it when my mum tells me a story like the one she did yesterday about a shopping trip she made with one of her kids, D.

I know for a fact that D. is no angel and can be a nasty so and so when he wants to be, but in this story the dude sounds wicked. After a meeting in town, D. asked if he could pop into Dawsons, a music shop. My mum agreed and so they made their way there. D. informed her that he was well known in the shop and that they were expecting him to bring his grandmother in; for the purposes of this visit, she would be his grandmother. They also believed he was interested in buying a grand piano. So, D. plays every piano in the shop for the next hour or so and has all the staff fussing over him, until my mum announces: "Darling, I think we should go away and think about it. It is a lot of money, and I have a meeting I need to get to." D. replies, "Okay darling," sweeps his scarf over his shoulder, takes my mum's arm and sashays out of the shop. Then he goes to a jewellery store and pretends he wants to buy a diamond ring worth over a grand. How fun would shopping with him be?

D. also possesses excellent manners, opening doors for others and letting them pass through first, and walking my mum to her car every night. Once, when my mum was on the phone to my sister, he said: "Oh, I must speak with her," and they made fictional plans to go to dinner. He also once made my mum sit though a cabaret act he had devised.

Genius.

70/30

2007-02-21T20:45:00.000Z

Today I had a conflab with Mybug on MSN. A happy outcome occurred I think. I told him off a little bit for being all over me when we went out. He objected at first, then when I said I was shocked because he'd never acted like that before, he admitted he'd been 'testing the water.' I asked him what the result had been. He said he got no response so he knew he'd have to leave it. I said: Good, so we don't have to talk about this then? He said no: 70/30 rule, but he had been praying for a response deep down.

The 70/30 rule, I discovered after getting him to elaborate, means that the maximum a guy can come onto a girl is 70%, and for this she has to be giving 30. For girls, it's vice versa. (So I was meant to be doing 30% of the work and somehow getting Alfie to give 70 - yeah, good luck with that, past me!)

So, he was actually exercising some restraint last Thursday! Who knew? After I left him to catch my bus, Mybug stayed out drinking until 9 am. He said he would've invited me to stay out with him but when someone mentions catching their bus three times in conversation, he can take a hint! I was like, what, you want me to be stranded? He said: taxis do exist. Then he invited me to his place to share a bottle of wine. Firmly, not happening, and I told him as much, though I did say we could maybe meet up for an after work drinky. Not sure how smart that would be yet; might give it some time.

I like him though because he appreciates rubbish jokes like this:

Mybug: Shall we be really pretentious and go and have espresso after our foreign language film? Will I get away with it in Reebok Classics?
Chica: Maybe, if you're wearing them ironically.

Girl with a Pearl Earring

2007-02-21T19:42:00.000Z

FYI: I have been spending like a WAG possessed recently. I don't know who I think I am. You've seen the evidence of the weekend's splurge, and on Monday I popped into H. Samuels and treated myself to two pairs of earrings (one of which is pictured, left. I have them in right now. I think they're my favourites! Ahem, apart from the ones you got me 'Muffin. They obviously have enormous sentimental value as well as being lovely and my only pair of actual diamond earrings. And I do like them, despite what you think! I've blogged about them somewhere...) Check me out!

Speaking of which, who saw the shots of Coleen McLoughlin posing as figures from famous pieces of art last weekend?

Coleen gets ragged on for being famous for doing nothing except shop and turn a blind eye to her footballer boyfriend's dalliance with prostitutes a few years ago. But if someone handed me the opportunities she's had, I'd grab them with both hands and run too. Lucky cow!

I'd rather have Boyf than a footballer or any amount of money in the world; I'd quite like to just fall into a career in journalism (well, write my own fashion column, hello Mothership!) by virtue of shopping heavily though.

I'd say some girls have all the luck, but then she does have to sleep with Wayne, who has a habit of doing really stupid things like signing deals with The Sun newspaper, despite what they did to us after Hillsborough. My niece once dated him, and dumped him for being boring. That always amuses me.

Justice for the 96.

And you are...?

2007-02-20T19:52:00.000Z

I was running late for work this morning, but for some reason I took the time to change my clothes about three times and fiddle with my hair for fifteen minutes. I decided that I wanted to make an effort and try and feel good about myself. I faffed about with my outfit and my hair until I looked half decent, and even put on gorgeous tan-coloured knee length boots I got for Christmas with a matching belt. The heels on them are really high so this is not normal work wear. They are killing me as we speak.

The first job I was on was a really boring one, so I smuggled my phone with me. Now, whether to text Alfie or not has been an idea I've been toying with recently, often culminating in red flashing lights, warning signs and all my friends collectively yelling nooooo in my ear with a megaphone. But I didn't want to text him as part of a route to anything: this is not Operation Bridget Jones revisited. I just don't like when things are left on a bad note and I wanted him to know that there aren't any hard feelings, whether he cares or not.

Anyways. I got lots of compliments in work on my outfit. While I was on the boring job Shelverboy came and chatted to me for a bit; he asked me if I'd changed my hair because I looked really different and he hardly recognised me. I told him I'd clipped my fringe back but didn't think that alone could render me unrecognisable. He said it looked nice, then started moaning about his girlfriend. Spontaneously, I took my phone out of my pocket and forwarded a willy joke on to Alfie, thinking (almost) nothing of it. Don't look at me like who are you kidding, I said almost.

After the job was over, about twenty five minutes later, I went downstairs to the office and told my supervisor of my progress. On the job, not Alfie. I'm not that bad. He didn't hear me properly at first, so I had to repeat the class number a couple of times, and someone kept asking him for the number to my right. I didn't register it because I was thinking about my next task, but then the voice moved closer and when I turned he was looking at me. Alfie. He'd been waiting for me to notice him.

My first instinct was to throw up a little bit, but I repressed it. I don't think I looked that pleased to see him. I said 'hi' and laughed and ~~ran~~ walked away. My skin immediately went hot and I was instantly nervous. When I went on the counter my hands were shaking while I was serving people. Lila and 'Muffin were looking at me and giggling together at reception, so I went over to see what was so funny. Lila had the idea in her head that I knew Alfie would be dropping in and that we had enjoyed some sort of secret rendezvous because I was dressed up and smiley! 'Muffin was like: "No, she'd never betray me so!"

Although I am happy to provide amusement for my work mates, oh my God it was so excruciating. I didn't really see him that much, he just asked how I was and stuff. He was here to pick up some books. I tried to be relatively cool and kept my distance, but I did lose all ability to operate the cash register.

How delighted am I that I wore the boots and made an effort though? Someone was watching over me while I was getting dressed this morning! Um, I mean that in a totally non-pervy way...

Even though I freaked out momentarily and was admittedly in a total state, I think I'm kind of okay. It didn't seem like he was the same guy I've been stressing over so much and writing about. And there wasn't as much of an oh my God I've been underneath you feeling as I expected.

Ladies and gentlemen: Alfie has left the building.

Smile

2007-02-18T14:53:00.000Z

Whoa, I actually feel happy and cheerful right now, WTF? Someone press a cold flannel to my unfurrowed brow, stat. I was merrily listening to Lily Allen and chatting to 'Muffin last night when I noticed something was different. It feels good.

Yesterday noon, I hopped on the bus and rode it into town. I was due to meet Dedalus for milkshakes at 3 o'clock, but I had some time to kill before then and, well... I was a little bit naughty. Naughty, but nice! Could these be the source of such contentment?

Oh yes, my friends. I'm back!

With a vengeance!

Dedalus actually went with me while I tried the heels, and we browsed the shelves of Waterstones together too. It was nice book shopping with a boy. He bought trashy thrillers and has read everything by Dan Brown, but still. I like the Black Eyed Peas, how can I possibly judge? I managed to resist buying any books, which was a small victory for my bank balance. Patrick Suskind's Perfume was even in the 3 for 2 offer! Dedalus says he's never seen me happier than when I was buying shoes. I should always be shoe shopping.

We talked about American politics, jobs, and um, Top Gear, over our shakes and then walked aimlessly around town chatting. Well, truth be known the aim was the find a movie to watch but neither cinema had anything much going for it so we bid farewell and took a rain check on the movie. While we were walking, he asked me about a comment I'd made about not wanting to lead him on because I knew how it felt and it wasn't nice. (Yeah, I'm this subtle in real life too!) I told him a little bit about Alfie - the bite size version. The simplicity of the bite size version was actually kind of good to hear - it all sounded much more manageable and, I don't know, everyday. I wrapped it up with: "Anyway, he's got a new girlfriend. It's over."

Truth be known, I had a mini-crisis on Friday and almost text Alfie. Nothing heavy, just to see how he is. But I told myself just to wait one more day and then I could text him. But yesterday, I didn't even want to. I was in a good mood and I didn't want to spoil it, and I think I kind of didn't care. Snaps for me! (Or Schnapps, I think I should get Schnapps.)

Anyway, so we had this awkward conversation about the past again which, yes he keeps bringing up but I think we've dealt with it now. I told him I thought he was cheeky to even be bringing stuff like that up because he was out of my life for so long and then he comes back on the scene dragging up ghosts from three years or so before. He agreed. We reached an understanding about the whole leading people on issue, and I told him that I wasn't agreeing to see him for anything like that, but that we were close once and it would be a shame to throw that away. He agreed :P But it was sincere I think, and even though it was a little bit awkward, I feel better about us.

Oh yeah, and then after me explaining some of the Alfie palaver, I asked him why he and his ex really split. He said: "She met someone else, basically."

Doh.

But look again at the boots! How can I feel anything but triumphant? I may even do my happy dance.

Hmmm, one step at a time.

'Muffin Top

2007-02-18T00:04:00.000Z

Although in its infancy, established around twenty minutes ago, the hotly anticipated (by me) Ramblings is born. After the launch party, the Rambler turned in early in order to properly prepare for his imminent and - naturally - largely female fan base. I managed a quick interview with the budding star before he suavely made his excuses and left:

'Muffin: well hun I'd better make my way to my boudoir
'Muffin: the ladies can't control themselves any longer
'Muffin: I feel wrong denying them like this

Potentially hilarious.

EDIT: 'Muffin has since decided his Ramblings are more like pearls of Wisdom. The updated link is here. Watch this space.

Facked

2007-02-16T15:55:00.000Z

Lest we forget: Mybug. It was Our Day Out yesterday. We were due to meet at 5:45 outside FACT, to see Pan's Labyrinth. By some fluke of science - or maybe physics in particular, I recall some sort of equation about speed and velocity, but nothing about the number 14 bus - I managed to get there early despite leaving at 5 o'clock, the journey usually taking at least 45 minutes, being in rush hour traffic, having to walk from one side of town to the other in high heeled boots that were certainly not made for walking, and not being entirely sure where FACT was (I was last there August 2004 with Dedalus, for The Bourne Supremacy, and I had to hide from my old pretentious tutor whom I spotted in the bar.)

He managed to turn up a little bit late. And a little bit drunk. He was paint-spattered, which was cute, because he'd been working with kids all day. I went to kiss him hello on the cheek and he grabbed me and kissed me on the mouth. He had a huge cold sore. Not so cute. Remember how much I fancied Alfie and the thing on my lip was basically gone at the Christmas party and I pushed him away when he tried to kiss me because of it? He still believes I rejected him to this day. There is no excuse for wantonly spreading herpes.

The film was really good and he brought sweeties. I'm not a sweeties during the movie type of girl but still, thoughtful. However, he kept grabbing me and trying to hold my hand, he'd put his arm around me or lean on my shoulder, at one point I swear he tried to cop a feel but for my deft manoeuvring, and then he bit my shoulder. I'm just sitting there thinking oh, fuck and waiting for him to read the body language. I don't think he would have done any of that except he'd been drinking. I was thinking it's probably difficult for someone with ADHD to sit through a movie like that?

Spoiler alert: you know the scene where Ofelia's mother is dying and the Captain says to save the baby before saving her? Mybug actually said to me, "If we were in that situation I'd save you." I said; "I'm glad you're not a fascist." He said, "I just love your boobs too much... that was borderline wasn't it?" I said, "No, you're so across the line!"

After the film, we went to the bar where he works, had mojitos, and he introduced me to some people. Then I said I'd have to get my bus, so he walked to the top of Bold Street with me. He asked me to dance in the street, grabbed me, spun me around, whipped me up into his arms, and twirled. Meanwhile, I am like as stiff as a board yelping, "I'll fall!" and "Trust issues!"

Asking him to the movies was such a good idea, non?

Lordy. So I guess I need to speak to him now or not see him again, because he was obviously treating it as a date despite the fact that every second word out of my mouth now is 'boyfriend', the first word being 'my'. There were some funny moments as he is quite witty but it was just far too uncomfortable, I really didn't want to say anything about it at the time but it was not a pleasant experience when he was getting all hands-on in the cinema. To compound matters, I was thinking about Alfie the whole time because 'Muffin bumped into him during a staff visit to his new workplace. I was dying to ask him a million questions despite the fact that I wouldn't get any answers that would satisfy me. He did say he's lost more hair though. It's such a shame for him :P

Tomorrow: Dedalus.

I need more girl friends.

Deja Vu

2007-02-16T12:40:00.000Z

So, I called up my doctor today for my test results and they are all normal. I realise that this is probably a good thing but I am really frustrated. I've been trying to research it myself but I can't make a diagnosis on my own, and I feel like they're never going to work out what it is and it will just keep getting worse and worse until I am no longer able to have contact with ordinary human beings. I don't even know what specialist to ask to be referred to and they will just keep fobbing me off until I give up. The future is not looking bright.

I read about one thing that might be causing it and to diagnose that they do blood tests, but differently to the one I had. They do numerous tests in a controlled environment to work out the cause and the area of the body it's in. So maybe the blood test I had wouldn't even detect the problem anyway. And maybe I need to start gearing myself up for many many needle pricks. Fun.

I dislike my doctors so much - they are husband and wife and they're just so useless. When I went last week, she just shoved the papers at me to get the blood test and said "fast". She didn't tell me how long to fast, where I had to go for the test, suggest what could be wrong, offer any kind of comfort, or anything. Bedside manner much?

If this does keep getting worse I'm going to have to become a hermit before I accidentally smother somebody with a pillow.

Stupid Cupid

2007-02-14T11:08:00.000Z

With the aid of a pair of eagle eyes to rival Mr. Cherry, and a Carly Simon song, 'Muffin, a work mate might I add, has found my blog. Now, we all know how rocking the 'Muffin is, but do I delete or do I trust? Alfie could literally "ruin me" here. Answers on a postcard please.

Cherub

2007-02-13T17:36:00.001Z

I thought I would wish everyone out there a Happy Valentine's Day a leetle bit early while I get the chance. I hope to be busy lip locking and playing the harp tomorrow night. Picked Boyf's card up on the way to work this morning, but have an embarrassing lack of gifts since I'm getting him football tickets but he hasn't decided what match he wants to go to yet. Boo. Will make up for it in other ways.

In work at the moment, with three and a half hours of boredom stretching out in front of me. It's so bad I might actually use my initiative and get stuck into some work I never get timetabled enough time to do... Oh my, I'm slowly turning into 'Muffin. Who, by the way, does the funniest frickin' Elmo dance I have ever seen. We're doing lunch tomorrow.

I informed the boyfriend of my Mybug plans this morning over tea.

Boyf: Leaving me for a younger man eh?
Chica: Yep *cough* ten years younger *cough*
Boyf: You can't leave me for a ginge. Anyone else, but not a ginge.
Chica: Born in nineteen eighty seven *cough*

I have the most laid back boyfriend in the world. It's kind of great.

Just Friends

2007-02-12T21:59:00.000Z

I've been wallowing in my diva's recently, warbling along to Aretha and Etta and, um, Lily Allen, shamelessly. I am becoming more and more convinced that Amy Winehouse has had a fling with Alfie at some point in her life. Practically every song on Back to Black reminds me of him. Except that one about weed. Maybe I should fashion my hair into a beehive and drink lots and lots of Stella Artois. It seems to have worked for her.

The whole experience left me with the resolution that I would never ever ask a boy out ever again (we're assuming that I am single at some point in my future,) and that I would never advise a girlfriend to make the first move. Until about ten minutes ago, when I asked Mybug to the movies.

In my defence, he asked me first. And I really wanna see Pan's Labyrinth before it disappears from the cinema.

This is platonic, I assure you, in both our cases. But he does have rather a cheering effect on me :) Bring on the fun.

Hurting All Over

2007-02-11T15:40:00.000Z

Well, today I woke up to my first hangover of the year! It took me about ten minutes to get drunk on a bottle of Pinot Grigio last night. The Boyf and I finally hit the town, I wore my green silk dress, and there was dancing. I had a little bit of a freak out in the bar Alfie and I kicked off our date two months ago in, cos that was the last time I was there. But I figure the more I go there with other people, the more stuff I'll accumulate in the way of that memory, if you get what I mean. Luckily, I got away with it under the 'oh no Chica's drunk again' licence to ramble meaninglessly. Moving on, I swear, just with a few minor hiccups thrown in every now and then. It takes me for ever to get over loss. I hate losing touch with friends too, even if it's clear the friendship is sort of floundering. I will always give people another chance because if I don't a big annoying WHAT IF? follows me around. But sometimes I think it would be better if I could just draw a line and cut people off; I have friends that can do this, they've fallen out with other friends for one reason or another and they don't even consider forgiveness. Black and white living must be much simpler than this greyness.

Anyhoo. We blew £100, but we haven't been out for a long time so I guess that's okay, even though I'm spending a lot lately and he's meant to be watching the pennies. I ordered some music the other day, Ella Fitzgerald, Dinah Washington, and Billie Holiday Best Ofs. And we all know I'm going to buy those shoes. They would have looked great with my outfit last night. Plus I keep buying things for my new and improved bedroom. I feel a trip to Ikea coming on.

I had a blood test on Friday. Now, I don't know if you are familiar with my history with needles, but it ain't a happy one. Yay for me, I didn't pass out. I'm kind of antsy to know the results already though and it's going to take at least a week to ten days before I'll know anything. Fingers crossed, although I'm not sure what outcome to hope for. If they don't find anything, I don't know what to do next, and with my doctor, you have to know what to do next because they're not big on the diagnosing of stuff. I guess I'll cross that bridge when I come to it.

High Heels and Low Lifes

2007-02-08T13:38:00.000Z

Today marks two years since I started blogging, which is crazy, because it seems like yesterday I put together last year's Top 5 Posts. And I'm a bit disappointed that nothing I've written this year would have made that list. But whatevs. This is warts and all blogging. So, here are my best bits since last Feb, curiously perched at a jaunty angle on a witches nose near you.

1. Ode to Paris. A lesson in teenage fug.

2. Oops I Did It Again. Mybug, mybug, mybug, mybug, I love my ginger bug.

3. I'm Not Dead Yet. Chica can fuck up any aspect of her life!

4. The Edge of Reason. Back when Alfie was just "Himself" (before I created a monster.)

5. Closer. The longest post in the world, all about a snog.

It might not be pretty, but it's all true. Another year? Bring it on!

A special thanks to my, um, let's say "exclusive" group of readers and commenters, some of whom have become good friends and a big part of my days. You're ace!

Toxic

2007-02-05T16:15:00.000Z

Did I mention that Julie is an air hostess? This is what Alfie calls her; I'd say flight attendant. A couple of my friends have this theory that he's attracted to the glamourous image they have. He's a total status freak: the places he goes, the clothes he wears, and he schmoozes with all the right people at work. I do think he'd get a little kick out of it. If he had a secretary, he'd be shagging her. Even 'Muffin said he needs to be careful before he becomes a caricature of himself.

The email really hurt my feelings but his callousness also killed off any desire I had to be with him. I would never go there now even if I could because I've seen how he is capable of treating me. So maybe he did me the biggest favour of my life, in hindsight. I still have some feelings for him obviously, I can't turn them off like a light switch. But I'm getting to grips with the idea that he really is bad news and nothing I do can change that.

I also have a little theory about the way I felt about him which I am going to investigate further. Don't worry, it's nothing to do with him, it's about me and without wanting to sound overly dramatic, it's something I'm going to see my doctor about. The intensity of my feelings for a complete and obvious bastard isn't the only out-of-character thing I've been noticing lately. I've developed a couple more symptoms over the past month especially that I am worried about. I don't think it's anything serious and I think it is treatable. I suspected something like this a while go but I thought I was being silly or clutching at straws to explain away what I was feeling. I don't want to say too much because I don't want to sound like a hypochondriac. In a way it would be good if I got a diagnosis but it would also be a bit scary. I'd rather be an idiot when it comes to men than have a bona fide medical predisposition for catastrophic affairs! I'm joking about that last part! All will become clear.

Fantasy Footwear

2007-02-05T15:58:00.000Z

Ladies and gentlemen, the next great love of my life:

I should NOT buy these, as I have only wore my gold ones, which were also £60, once, these twice, and these (which I bought last summer!) twice. I also have a really similar pair, except they are satin and have no platform. I kind of wrecked those a little on my night out with Alfie though, marching down London Road and drunkenly yelling 'rendezvous' at each other. How obnoxious!

I really like them, and I'm hoping I can take off the ankle strap. If I buy them. Which I shouldn't. But I might.

Purge

2007-02-02T20:39:00.000Z

Very busy few days. The project is taking shape and now closely resembles a bedroom rather than a cesspit. My walls are Treacle Tart #5. My floor is absolutely beautiful - I was laid by a professional! Might post pics despite nobody being remotely interested in wooden floors I'm sure. Now I just have the mammoth task of reloading my bookshelf, and I think I'll save the rest of the reorganisation for tomorrow. I went through some of my clothes today and made up two bin bags full for charity - some of them with the labels still on! I have a ridiculous amount of clothes that I never wear. These are housed in three different rooms. I'm going to continue the premature Spring clean as soon as the room is completed; I just don't want to make a helluva lot more mess right now.

I also have a lot more books than I realised, but I can never throw a book out and don't see why I should. I really haven't been reading enough recently and am going to try and set some time aside just for this. It's difficult when you share a house and there are so many distractions. I need quiet to be able to let myself become engrossed by a book and I generally have people talking to me or following me from room to room turning on the TV (that's you Boyf - who will never read this blog for obvious reasons!) But somehow, even if I have to lay down the law, I'm gonna try for this one. I've been reading the same novel for months and every time I pick it up I have to skip back a few pages to remind me where I'm at. I read a whole lot of the time when I was in France.

So sleepy. So many books to dust.

I rock Friday nights.

Karma Chameleon

2007-02-01T01:33:00.000Z

I realised today that at 24, I am the same age my sister was when she married her late husband. That's a little frightening, since I remember the wedding like it was yesterday. And I was only 14. Teenage years are notoriously slow. In the blink of an eye, I'll be 34, the age my sister is now... no wait, she was 35 last month. (I have two sisters. The other is 36. If I mention my sister, it's usually the eldest one I'm talking about, since we are closer.) I thought: I really need to get out there and get happy. I don't have months to waste on Alfie. I need to start thinking about me again, not what he wants or what would make me more appealing to him, or any man for that matter. I don't mean that like, I'm going to do anything I want and not think about consequences (so over that!) I just mean, I think I need to find myself again, but not in an introspective, think about all my mistakes in order to learn from them kind of way. I mean, in a getting my hands dirty and keeping busy kind of way, until the months pass and all of a sudden: poof, I'm a new me. I've done enough brooding and it can't hurt to try it this way, right?

By the way, I want you all to know that I do recognise that I deserve this. I'm not just thinking 'poor me, bad, bad Alfie.' This is my fault, my mess, and my karma. You can't argue with karma.

A.L.F.

2007-01-31T19:45:00.000Z

I'm tired after an exhausting day stripping (wallpaper). The Boyf and I are working on our bedroom. We also filled all the holes in the wall, knocked out a vent, and painted the ceiling. Lots more work planned for the next couple of days! Ahhh, there's nothing like a project to keep your mind off things!

In other news, had a bit of an awkward conversation with Dedalus on MSN while I was on my late night in work yesterday. One minute, we were talking about shoes (well, I was talking about them, he was probably rolling his eyes and stifling a yawn) the next minute, he said he'd like to take me out.

Chica: Take me out?
Dedalus: To town for a night out.
Chica: Yeah we could go for a few drinks or something, but 'take me out' sounds a bit... non-platonic.
Dedalus: I know.
Chica: Oh. Well if we did go out, it would be purely platonic for me.
Dedalus: OK.
Chica: Do we need to talk about this?
Dedalus: I dunno. Not now.
Chica: Okay. I don't want to lead you on though, it's not nice. And I think you're kind of "on the rebound" for want of a better phrase.
Dedalus: OK (my real name).
Chica: Shall I shut up?
Dedalus: You want to do something later this week?

Is it just me, or is he a cheeky bastard? I mean, I'm being careful of his feelings and everything, because recent events have made me very sensitive to the perils of rejection. But, he comes back on the scene after an absence of almost two years and thinks that this is okay? Sheesh.

Let's have a slice of Mybug so that I don't start to sound like a complete man hater. He text me today asking how I was, and when I replied he rang me a second later to make sure I was okay because he said I sounded down ("been better, been worse.") I assured him I was fine in my chirpiest voice and he scatted for a bit, then I thanked him for calling. Kinda thoughtful of him, don't you agree?

'Muffin also brought a Thank You card into work for me yesterday for his birthday present, the loon. It's nice to know that some people appreciate you though, and we also had a good old bitch about Alfie, pictured below.

Petty, but satisfying :) It's funny the little things that can make you feel better, such as the email that popped into my inbox from my sister entitled: RE: that bastard. High road, schmigh road.

Balance

2007-01-30T17:26:00.000Z

I figure, since I've been doing a lot of complaining recently, that I should let you in on how great my boyfriend is for a change. This morning, he got up, made me a cup of tea, nipped to the shops and bought breakfast supplies, woke me up, made me laugh, made me a BLT sandwich to eat and another sandwich for later, put some little chocolates in with my lunch (which I then threw out but still) and waved me off as I left for work. Cute huh?

Plus, whenever he sees the mobile phone advert with the wind up toy of two figures hugging, he says it is us and sings the song to me (let me call you sweetheart.) Well, at me.

Yesterday, he picked me up from work. In the car on the way home we were chatting as normal about various things, and then in a jokey, good natured way he said to me: "I found a piece of paper in the house before with PR (Alfie's initials) wrote on it and then scribbled out." (What am I, 14?) I went, "PR??" in a high pitched, unconvincing voice, and then he said Alfie's first and second name, then "Don't be writing his name, only write mine," in a perfectly pleasant tone. I managed a feeble, "Okay," and then he was normal with me for the rest of the night.

He's either the most understanding man in the world, or I don't know what.

Well Played

2007-01-30T16:01:00.000Z

So, I read that email about forty times yesterday and am going to try to avoid doing so in the future. I have lots of mixed feelings about it as I'm sure you can imagine. Mostly, I feel like a fool. But Chica is going to pick herself up and dust herself off and talk in the third person as many times as she has to. It's difficult for me to take the moral high ground over this because of what I was willing to do to somebody I love. I can't exactly harp on about betrayal and trust and treating people right now, can I? But I was always honest with Alfie and he knew what I was risking. It should come as no surprise that I meant so little to him, but even 'Muffin reacted with shock at just how bad the email was. I could tell he immediately regretted calling me over as he opened it. I think it's really mean of Alfie to put 'Muffin in that position too as he knows how close we are.

There really aren't any words to explain this mess away. There are lots of words to try and explain it, and I've probably ran through about half of them in my mind since about this time yesterday. But what is the point? I've done the "But he was seeing ME in December!" and the "So much for not wanting a girlfriend!" and it doesn't change my predicament. He was still flirting and doing all the "Alfie" crap in the emails he sent me on Friday, but there's no use wondering why. I don't know if I wish he hadn't contacted me at all (I was actually getting somewhere with the getting over him, finally) or if it's a good thing he's made it so clear what a twat he is.

I'm a stupid, stupid girl.

Gag Me With A Spoon

2007-01-29T16:18:00.000Z

Having spies has its drawbacks. Regardez this email from Alfie to 'Muffin.

Hi Mate,
all is well here too.
Been seeing the same girl i told you about a while back.
Met her at the beginning of December and were offically going out now.
She is the hottest girl ive ever been out with i think. So thats a good sign. Been seeing quite a bit of eachother.
I am very proud of the jumper purchase young jedi, you have good potential.

I'll leave you to imagine my mood right now, but I'll give you a clue; it's somewhere between hysterical and total humiliation.

Fuck. Me.

Little Bird

2007-01-29T11:22:00.000Z

A little bird tells me that Alfie has acquired a "Julie" and was out with her on Saturday night (his birthday weekend.) He also dropped into my workplace on Friday afternoon so the emails were either to a) make sure I wouldn't be here or b) assess the possibility of some cheap thrills in the stairwell.

Why every girl needs a 'Muffin: "He parked in the loading bay while he went and got his haircut apparently. What hair? I'd have had him bloody clamped."

Not that I ever thought he would remain celibate or anything, but argh. The little bird referred to her as "his girlfriend." Stab me in the heart, why don't you!

Just when I was doing so well... :P

Chin Up

2007-01-27T11:26:00.000Z

Gah, my boyfriend is annoying the crap outta me. Is it awful that I completely enjoyed being alone last night? I liked being able to do whatever I wanted without deferring to somebody else or checking to make sure he was properly entertained, and I even enjoyed cooking and eating alone, which I usually hate. Then he came home at 1 am drunk as a skunk, with this horrible mask of a face he gets when he's really hammered, and I just felt immediately harangued and stressed out. This morning, I got up, and he'd eaten the last of everything. He had the television blaring in the living room and was asleep on the couch. I made him some tea, tidied up the kitchen, and switched on the heating because the house was freezing. Meanwhile, he goes upstairs, snaffles the duvet off my bed and climbs back under it onto the couch watching The Discovery Channel.

So now I am annoyed and blogging in my bedroom to get away from the noise of the TV, I'm hungry, and I'm cold because he has my duvet, and he switched the radiator off in my room!

In other news, I just took Goldberg's depression test online - it popped up on the MSN homepage, don't worry - and while I really don't think clickable tests you take in your pyjamas drinking coffee are especially credible, it's kind of worrying that on this scale, I scored a 70.

0 - 9 Depression unlikely
10 - 17 Possibly minor depression
18 - 21 On the verge of depression
21 - 35 Minor to moderate depression
36 - 53 Moderate to severe depression
54+ Severe depression

You have the symptoms of severe depression. The condition seems to cause serious problems in your everyday life, and you should consult your doctor immediately. Your boyfriend is obviously taking the piss while the man you really desire is out of your reach. You probably work in a dead end job and are being ignored by the tutor who is supposed to be mentoring you. Sucks to be you, love.

PS You are in danger of becoming a whiny cow permanently. Suggested treatment: Wondy gives you her new shoes.

Okay, I feel better now. I think I'll go buy some groceries, do my nails, try out my GHD straighteners and get ready for a night on the tiles. Heck, I might even go for a run. That'll show him!

Riding in Cars with Boys

2007-01-26T20:00:00.000Z

I have the house to myself tonight. At first I was going to call one of the girls and get them over, but then I reconsidered in favour of some me time. I cooked, while listening to Patsy Cline and The Rat Pack. Later, I will watch Big Brother. If I had Doritos, they too would be involved in the plan.

This morning, I got up, went downstairs and put on some tea. I went into the conservatory and moved a photo album to sit down. My niece had been flipping through it the night before while we had our hair cut. (We have family sessions with a stylist who is friends with my sister.) I turned to the pictures at the back of the album while the kettle boiled. Alfie. I had already begun to think about the fact that it had been a month since I heard from him, and that I was going to have to emerge from beneath his spell. I kind of gave myself until today to stop wallowing, since it was meant to be the night out with 'Muffin and I thought it would be an appropriate bookend to the whole thing. I looked at a picture of Alfie and thought... well, you weren't what I expected you to be.

I finished making my tea and took it upstairs. I set up my laptop and checked my emails, including my work emails out of habit. A few times I have caught myself thinking: please, please, please while doing this. (Hey, I'm not proud of the fact!) But not this morning. And then, before I knew it, I was opening a message from Alfie: "Hello there, it's been a bit quiet from you lately. How's tricks?" he sent it around 9 in the morning. I waited until around lunch time to reply. This gave me plenty of time to text my sister and freak out. She offered me some firm advice: email him back but don't be over friendly and don't mention his birthday x let's know x

Anyway, in short, we had a tiny bit of banter, then he said he was off to lunch and told me to have a nice weekend and tell the sis the clit tease says yo. He has a real way with words :P The highlight of the emails was probably when I asked him how he was settling into his new workplace:

Chica: Walking round like you own the joint by now then yeah? ;)
Alfie: What dya mean, "like i own the joint". I do ;-) Alfie is in town

I've not let myself get too excited about it, but I am pleased he got in touch and it wasn't awkward. I think this makes it acceptable for me to text him sometime, maybe just forward a joke on to him or something, to keep the lines of communication open. Not with any goal in sight, but just because I like him and would like to try and be normal around him and treat him like my other male friends if possible. I was thinking the other day about how crazy I let myself get over him and how a lot of it was really unnecessary. If I text Mybug and he doesn't reply, it doesn't bother me in the least. I don't have a crisis and think he hates me. But I totally over analyse everything with Alfie, and it has to stop if I want any kind of shot at getting through this without a broken heart and/or a restraining order. Even if I never hear from him again, I think I've come off quite good. I held out for ages and didn't contact him; he contacted me; I was friendly but not overly flirty; a kind of friendly stalemate has been resumed. Now, if I bump into him I won't be thinking: oh my god I want to die this is the guy who rejected me, and he won't be thinking, oh fuck how awkward.

I'm sure this isn't the last loop of the roller coaster, but for now I'm quite content with things. My sister popped in before Dedalus picked me up and couldn't stop laughing at me. She kept saying: look at your face, you're smiling now!

Oh, Dedalus is another matter. Bobby was excellent, the ending was particularly well done, and the approach was really interesting and not at all what I expected. After the film, Dedalus gave me a ride home because we went to a cinema close to where I live. Since there was nobody home, I invited him in for a cuppa. And he freaked out. It was like he panicked, eventually declining the offer. Then he started to explain why and cut himself short and said to leave it. I was like, "Erm... okay." I was offering the guy tea not permission to ransack my body. He asked what my plans were for the weekend so I gave him a brief overview and then we said goodbye.

I let myself in and had a little chat with 'Muffin on MSN. Then the phone rang. It was Dedalus, apologising for not coming in. I told him not to worry and that I wasn't offended. He said he wished he had. I was like, "Well... no worries. I just thought we could have a chat 'cos we didn't get much chance to while we were watching the film." He agreed, then started going on about how he likes me, and even though he said it was his exes fault we'd stopped talking, it was also because he liked me and I was always with the Boyf. I said, "And I still am." He said things hadn't changed for him. I said, "Well it was all a long time ago." He repeated that things hadn't changed for him! I said, "It was two years ago! This is really hard to talk about not in person." He agreed. He asked if he could see me over the weekend, and I said I wasn't sure of my plans but I'd let him know if I was in town and we could meet up if he was free. We stumbled over a couple more niceties and hung up. He's text me since. I really wish he wouldn't force this issue because I really want to be friends but if he's going to be saying stuff like that I'm not sure we can. Plus, this totally smacks of rebound to me.

In the words of Avril Lavigne: why d'you have to go and make things so complicated?

Of Books & Bondage

2007-01-25T23:48:00.000Z

Meh, today has been such a waste of time. I did get my hair cut at least, but I raised the subject of colour and didn't really get any constructive feedback. Still, my hair is back in an actual style, which is progress.

Yesterday, I had to go work at a different site as part of a 'lets all hold hands and love each other' initiative they have at work, which requires us to travel miles out of our way and do the exact same job but in a place where you don't know anything so you're basically zero help to anyone, and you're only there for one day so anything you do learn is a total waste of time anyway. Ahem. Loving the scheme, personally. But I'd been quite worried about going there because that's where the rumour about me and Alfie came from so I was more than a little paranoid. Heidi works there so I got to catch up with her and we had fun slagging off men for a bit, and she told me about her male friend who likes rubber and being peed on. Nice. Practical combination, though.

Anyway, I was counting the hours to get through it but it was fine in the end. Lovely Mybug came to see me. It was really weird because he'd said he might and just as I was sitting on reception wondering if he would and almost willing him to really because I felt out of my depth, he walked in. I only spoke to him for a couple of minutes because he had to get to class, but he came back later and helped me find my way around while I was looking for some books. He also gave me a Happy Hippo. (That's a Kinder sweetie thing, not a euphemism.) He walked around the library with me helping me with my job, then gave me a hug and a kiss and went to meet some friends for lunch. I really like listening to him talk. He's really quite insightful for a nineteen year old.

Let me just type that out again: nineteen year old. Same age as my niece. WRONG.

Before you start to worry about an upcoming onslaught of Mybug posts, I do not like him in that way. I just really like him as a person and he's so funny and sweet. Other people at work didn't like him and I think the general consensus is that he's weird. But I just think he expresses himself in a different, unique way and I find it interesting. Plus, it really helps his cause that he gets drunk and tells me I'm beautiful. I love that in a guy.

Off to see Bobby at the cinema with Dedalus tomorrow. I love stuff on the Kennedy's so I'm hoping for good things. 'Muffin had to cancel his birthday celebrations because of personal problems, which is a real shame. We were both looking forward to it and he was going to stay over so he could really have let loose and not had to worry about driving home. I'm sure we'll arrange something else another time though and I'm taking the Boyf out on Saturday instead (fingers crossed.) I still haven't a clue what to get him for his birthday so I'm going to have to go shopping at some point. Also, I want earrings. I have but two pairs. After many years umming and ahhing over whether to take the plunge or not, I've almost ignored the fact that I had them pierced, and cannot believe I'm not taking advantage of the opportunity for expansive accessorising. I really must be lovesick. I couldn't even get it up for shoe shopping last week.

Ball Ache

2007-01-25T17:49:00.000Z

I don't know if I have talked about this much, what with my inability to stop myself from sounding like a scratched record, but I am attempting to turn over a new academic leaf, and have been trying to sort my shizz out vis-a-vis The Dissertation That Will Not Die. I met my tutor last Thursday, braving gale force winds, roads closing, roof tiles and tree trunks flying through the air to do so (not exaggerating), and spent last weekend writing an outline of my chapters for him. I was a bit miffed by the fact that he turned up 25 minutes late for our meeting, and that if I hadn't stopped into the humanities office, and the receptionist didn't just happen to spot him down the corridor, the meeting wouldn't have happened at all. And then there was the fact he was totally unprepared - even more so than me - and asked me what was the meeting about, again? But I am even more annoyed with him today, since I battled through rush hour traffic to meet him at five o'clock, a time convenient for him, and he never bothered to bloody show up! Does the dude not realise I have to get two buses there, two buses back, and it takes me more than two hours? Grrr.

I was so proud of myself for actually getting the work done at the weekend aswell. I shut myself in the spare room, shunned all of Boyf's attempts to distract me, sacrificed my social life, and this is how I am rewarded! I left him a note explaining that I'd turned up for the meeting on time and hung around waiting for him again, and asked him to give me some feedback via email or telephone so that I could make some progress before our next, unscheduled, meeting. I'm really peeved; I need encouragement so much to get this God-forsaken project out of my life. If I do go back to university, it certainly won't be to this one, as it's been nothing but one obstacle after another!

Don't even get me started on Registry...

Sitting Duck

2007-01-24T22:21:00.000Z

I had a bit of a WTF moment while flipping through a magazine at work today: turns out that this boy...

...grew up into this boy. Nicholas Hoult from the excellent About a Boy, in which he played the adorable Marcus, is now some sort of sexpot character on raunchy new teen-angst-with-lots-more-sex-thrown-in vehicle Skins. I say it's raunchy but I haven't actually seen it and don't intend to watch it, but it looks like it wants to be raunchy from the adverts. In fact I'd go as far as to say debaucherous if I thought it was an actual word.

I liked him better when he was singing with his eyes closed and Hugh Grant was buying him cool new trainers.

Chica's Labyrinth

2007-01-22T16:28:00.000Z

I'm sitting at that ruddy desk again, NOT thinking about his shirts or the way he smells, honest. I have thirty minutes of work left and then I am outta here. I think I will be taking my man out to dinner; had an invitation from Mybug to go see Pan's Labyrinth but I'm tired and Boyf needs cheering up.

We didn't go out at the weekend but he had a very good excuse of work troubles that could not be sulked about. I still sulked a little since I kind of saw it happening and he waited until there was far too little notice for me to organise anything with someone else. I think he wanted me to stay in and be miserable with him... I mean, be a supportive girlfriend.

According to 'Muffin's sources, Alfie's birthday is either today or Thursday, but his sources are questionable in my opinion. However, he put forward the dilemma of: what if Alfie is out celebrating his birthday the same night we're out celebrating 'Muffin's? (We're going to the place he goes every week. Before you say anything, pass remarkable, 'Muffin chose it!) I was going to invite the Boyf but if Alfie is there I'll be all anxious and I don't wanna ruin 'Muffin's night. Plus, Dedalus knows I am out with my friends and said he might pop in with his friends. It's a moral minefield of men. I still might take Boyf though. Maybe it will lessen the anxiety rather than increase it?

I also need to decide what to wear at some point. I thought I had settled on the green wrap dress but I'm thinking of wearing this other one I have... and I really want an excuse to buy some new boots. So far, I'm resisting. But we all know how bad I am at that.

Away with the Fairies

2007-01-21T15:06:00.000Z

I have just received a text message from my Uncle Yank. Yank is a strange case for an Uncle in that he is only two years older than my eldest sister and he lived with us for about four years with his then-girlfriend, now-wife, Li. We were once quite close and I had a real fondness for him, but we had this really bad argument one day that permanently shattered any bond we had. If you've not noticed, I'm kind of big on the whole earth-shattering ruptures with people. I don't know why, it's not like I look for it. I guess I'm kind of stubborn but I like to think I'm quite forgiving. My mum says I get it from my paternal grandfather, but since I totally adored him I can't help but take this as a compliment.

But I digress. It's not that there's this rift between Yank and I anymore, we get along fine but there's just no real closeness there. He actually kind of reminds me of Alfie in some ways... that's a bit worrying! Anyway, every now and then Yank will send me a joke via text like the one I forwarded to Alfie the first ever time I text him - the night I got totally hammered because of the adrenalin rush I had when he text me back. A couple of weeks ago, Yank sent me another joke. Now I normally never bother forwarding stuff like that on, but I considered sending it to Alfie because he liked the first one and well, any old excuse to text him really. But I didn't because I felt awkward about contacting him and wanted him to contact me first. Basically I didn't want to look like a saddo using any reason I could grasp hold of to speak to him again... Ahem.

But this joke? This joke I certainly could not send to Alfie right now without looking like a bunny boiler.

A married couple in their 60's are visited by a fairy who grants them both a wish. "I want to travel around the world with my darling husband," said the wife. Two tickets for a luxury cruise magically appeared in her hand. The husband said: "Sorry love, but my wish is to have a wife 30 years younger than me." So the fairy waves her wand and the husband becomes 92. Moral of the story: men who are ungrateful bastards should remember - fairies are fucking female.

As an aside, and on the subject of veering into stalker (were we?), I have worked out that Alfie's birthday is between now and the end of the month. How? Because his birthday is in January, and I know he's an Aquarius. The sign of Aquarius comes into play on the 20th of January. I swear I don't read his stars, I was reading 'Muffin's! You can start making that cuckoo noise now...

Unpretty

2007-01-21T13:38:00.000Z

Recently I've been really wrapped up in appearances, mainly my own, worrying about the way that I look and being generally dissatisfied with what I've got to work with. Like it or not, appearance matters. And I truly believe that if you are attractive, doors will open for you that would otherwise be slammed in your face. Plus, you'd have less villagers chasing you back to the swamp with lit torches held aloft in a fiery condemnation of your sheer ugliness. The confidence you'd have must in itself make a major difference to the way you live your life. So, despite what I am about to say, I do realise the way the world works.

I've been placing far too much emphasis on looks, particularly in the demise of my brief brush with Alfie. I have been kind of working on the belief that if I was prettier, he'd want me. Alfie is oft surrounded by beautiful women, and I couldn't help thinking that people were looking at us when we went out, wondering what the blazes he was doing with me. But then I thought, well, Alfie isn't the best looking guy in the world, there are plenty of guys hotter than him, and I'd still choose him over Jake Gyllenhaal's doppelganger any day of the week. It's not all about looks. Take this girl.

Former Miss England, fellow scouser, model, and Celeb Big Brother contestant Danielle Lloyd. She's bloody gorgeous. I would kill to look like her. But the girl, if we judge her solely on her behaviour in the house, which is all I have to go on, is a complete bitch and alleged racist. She may be stunning on the outside, but her actions in the house so far have been hateful and ugly.

I guess it all depends on how superficial you are. But it takes more than a pretty face or a hot little bod to build a relationship. I saw something special in Alfie and for whatever reason, he was irresistably attractive to me (as my sister said, somewhat bemusedly, "It must be his personality.") And I'm sure that Alfie did look at other women and think they were way more gorgeous than me. But that doesn't necessarily mean he'd prefer to be with them. It probably meant it, since y'know... it's turned to dust. But I wasn't looking at better looking guys thinking I'd rather be with them, and that's enough to prove something to me!

So, in conclusion. Yes, I'd love to look like Danielle Lloyd. But I would rather be wanted for being me. (This does not mean I will stop bemoaning the fact that I am Ugly Betty without the brains or the promising magazine publishing career. Sorry 'Muffin.)

The Face of Things to Come

2007-01-20T02:21:00.000Z

Here's some advice that made me feel a little better about my situation with Alfie:

Life is all about goodbyes, and the trick is to learn how to say goodbye with the most amount of grace. It is easier to say goodbye and let go of the people we love the most, because we know we loved them and that they loved us. It's more difficult to say goodbye to new relationships because we need to be around those people as the relationships aren't as well established.

I'm paraphrasing, but the source of these words of wisdom? He's on the left.

Dirk Benedict, currently starring in Celebrity Big Brother. Who needs Oprah?

Standing in the Way of Control

2007-01-20T01:43:00.000Z

I've been trying to write a post for the past few days but they just aren't coming together. I need to be out dancing tonight, getting a wee bit merry maybe and wearing a fabulous outfit. I need a new look or something to make me feel good about myself again. I feel like a dysfunctional mess of a person with mousey hair and no life. I'm meant to be going out with the boyfriend tomorrow night but I suspect that may not happen now because he will probably be hungover since he's been drinking since this afternoon. I should make contingency plans really because I feel so frustrated with myself and I just want to let loose and have some fun, do something drastic maybe like drunk karaoke or ill advised skinny dipping in the Mersey, both equally dangerous sports.

Rar. This funk totally sucks.

Employee of the Month

2007-01-17T11:04:00.000Z

So, Tuesday was my late night at work. I hate late nights and they're really boring but I have to say I get a much better deal than April with her solo shifts and encounters with El Creepo. Eek!

I shouldn't really complain this week (but I'm going to, natch) because for about an hour and a half, I was entertained by Mr. Mybug whilst manning the reception desk. Let me remind you I was having the worst hair day in recent memory and he tried to touch my hair and take a photograph of me, and gave me a hug. Plus, it's the first time he's seen my hair short. Typical. But he was really sweet and funny. The guy is the same age as my eldest niece so I can't help feeling a sort of 'awww' factor.

He also brought me a late Christmas present - a miniature Bible with blank pages and a hip flask secreted inside. This sort of thoughtful gift demonstrates the fact that he understands the pain of working here due to his own past experiences, and I'm glad he felt he could share his coping mechanisms with me. He said he should have put a nice message inside and I promptly demanded one. He made a little poem out of my name, and asked me to think of a word beginning with A. Apple was rejected and he asked for a more descriptive word, and do you know the first word that popped into my head was 'amorous'? He asked how to spell it. I asked if he knew what it meant and he said no. I told him, "Basically, you've just wrote that I make you horny." He started laughing and turned puse. "My boyfriend's gonna love that," I said. (I do this thing now where I drop my boyfriend into lot of conversations, just in case :P Oh yes. I've learned my lesson.)

He asked me out to lunch next week, so we'll see if that happens. And. He has a myspace. Mybug is adorable. Why can't Alfie be adorable?

'Muffin hung around after work until eight filling out some job applications, so I went over them with him before he left. Then I chatted to Dedalus online and helped one of the late night custodial guys fill up a trolley. Sounds like a pretty easy night, I know, but it dragged so much it was awful. I'd rather have things to do than try and make myself look busy and avoid the glares of the-woman-who-thinks-she-is-my-boss.

I'm on a half day today so I shall be skipping off merrily at half twelve round the shops for a quick nose for a pressie for 'Muffin's birthday. And maybe some shoes to ease the pain. But then I must go home and study for my meeting tomorrow! Oh no, the day I am exposed a a complete fraud is upon me. Ye gads.

My work ethic looks great from this angle, huh?

Wading in the Shallows

2007-01-16T15:37:00.000Z

I have a couple of things to get off my chest:

1) Remember this? Well, I'm sitting at that desk right now looking at those doors. There is a reason office relationships are frowned upon. Every corridor holds a memory, perching like a little gremlin full of mirth at my evident discomfort and longing. Bittersweet nostalgia haunts me in my working hours. Imagine if he still worked here. I know an office flirtation might be a fun diversion in an otherwise dull expanse of time, but when you actually fall for someone and it doesn't work out... well, it's just not worth it. And if I ever felt a little crush creeping up on me again, I would do all in my power to suppress it like I managed to for ages with Alfie.

I'm trying to work towards a very sort of Buddhist, yogic, deep breathing, forgive the world, hug a tree, love thy neighbours screaming child, inhale a cactus... wait, scrap that last one, attitude of acceptance and gratitude for the times we had. Let's face it, I never thought the dude would look at me twice and if I hadn't gone for it then he wouldn't even have given me a cursory glance on his way out on his last day. I know I'm making more out of this than needs be but I was willing to give up everything for this guy even though I knew he didn't deserve it and wouldn't fully appreciate it. That's going to take some getting over. Bear with me. It's gonna be a bumpy ride.

2) Bad hair day in the worst way. My hairdresser has been in Australia for six weeks. My hair, it pays the price. And I still haven't fixed on a colour. I'm so in need of a new look right now.

Loner

2007-01-14T20:46:00.000Z

Do you ever wish you had a secret place nobody knew about that was just yours, and nobody could bother you there? You could go and hide and do your own thing and not have anyone to entertain or explain yourself to. All I wanted today was to be alone and the house was full of people. Everywhere I turned and every room I moved to, they just followed me. I ended up crawling underneath my duvet in a dark room and pretending I was asleep for an hour and a half. I wasn't. I was thinking. Me and that much time to think does not make a happy partnership at the moment, so when I finally made myself face everyone again it was not with the cheeriest of expressions on my face.

I hate to sound so anti-social, but it's just been one of those days where I can't take people. You know when you're fully aware of what rubbish company you are making and you want to go find a little piece of oblivion? Maybe I should develop a drinking habit. Alcoholism is the answer! A secret place, at the bottom of a bottle... This is not the kick-ass, happy me I shall be projecting in the future. She is a work in progress.

The Pursuit of Happyness

2007-01-14T00:52:00.000Z

The film was great. Will Smith is excellent and his kid is super cute. Inspirational stuff and all very well acted. Treated with bathos which is very effective and there are some touching and funny parts all done with subtlety. I'd recommend it, unless you're in the mood for a fast paced thriller, because it's quite slow and doesn't have much action. I really enjoyed it.

The company was quite good as well. I'm still a bit unsure but it is nice meeting up with Dedalus and reminds me of my uni days. He also said he was sorry for being such a crap mate and that that was what he'd meant to say the other day over coffee but he didn't express it very well. He said it wouldn't happen again. He may very well be full of shit though as he said that he thought I looked like an actress from 24. I don't watch it so he assured me it was a compliment and I said I'd go home and Google it and it better not be Pat Butcher. I'm pretty sure that when a guy tells you that you look like this, when you know you are actually closer to resembling Pat Butcher there are ulterior motives at work. But I cannot be bothered worrying about that right now.

What would make me happy right now is if my dissertation was finished. I have an appointment with my tutor on Thursday and I think maybe he'll bitch slap me into shape. Will probably be meeting up with Dedalus again after the meeting because my uni is right near his house. See how easy this is? Alfie apparently drives right near my house every day on his way to and from work. He also leaves his house at the same time I leave mine, so that if I did buy a car and start driving into work, I would probably frickin' pass him going the opposite way.

I need to stop mourning this non-fling, non-relationship, non-friendship, non-affair and get a bit blimmin' kick ass again. Moping is so not my colour. If I ever bump into him, I need not to be looking like a startled deer in the woods or a bunny in the headlights of a big fuck off truck. It would be rather good if I could look like this, but I would settle for looking happy. If I could also look as cute as possible that would be quite nice too!

Inevitable Withdrawal

2007-01-13T00:06:00.000Z

Despite the fact that I have resolved to get over Alfie, I have spent the evening browsing the Tiffany website for cufflinks for his birthday. (I like these or these.) Obviously, I have a long long long long way to go. I just have to keep telling myself that even if I was with him, this feeling would not last. It's simply not sustainable. It's impossible to idolise somebody this much on a long term basis. I think that's why I'm having such trouble moving on; all I want to do is indulge that feeling and enjoy that feeling of liking a person so much nothing is too much effort for them. My sister and my mum were talking about a trip to New York the other day and how despite my fear of flying, if Alfie was there I'd fly the bloody plane. I want to feel like that about someone and I can't help that I feel like that about the wrong man entirely.

I have had some little breakthrough moments though. I have accepted that it's over and I shouldn't contact him and I won't. That's kind of a big deal for me. And I'm happy that I've reached that point. I figure I can indulge all the rest of my melodrama because that's my stuff, that's how I'm coping, and as long as I keep that away from him then that's okay. I want to say goodbye with grace and dignity, even though the goodbye is unsaid. This has been a big bump in the road for me but the test is in how well you rise after you fall and I'm going to do my best to pull myself together and get on with my life.

If I bump into him though, all bets are off. I will be crying in a heap within about five minutes. Or screaming and banging my fists against something, if not a wall, possibly his chest. I really should prepare myself in case that happens, huh?

Pennies From Heaven

2007-01-12T15:12:00.000Z

Boooooo, I just got a bank statement through and it SUCKS! This part time lark is great when you get to wave off your boyfriend sleepily at 7 am, then turn over and snuggle into his pillow, but mamma mia I've got a lot less dough! Seeing it in black and white was a little disheartening. I need to get a proper plan of action in order so that I can justify it. If I'm going to be studying again I need to sort myself out and find a friggin course. Also, I spent so much money at the end of last year, half of my student debt could have been paid off. Instead, I have boots. And an Alfie hangover.

Back to the books!

love, Chica x

Rehab

2007-01-12T00:48:00.000Z

As I may have mentioned in passing, it's 'Muffin's birthday at the end of the month. What to get the man in my life who's my friend without harbouring any ulterior motives? The man who writes a wicked Christmas card and serenades me with Golden Girls theme tunes? In short, one of the best friends I have made in recent years or, indeed, ever? I need to get my thinking cap on.

We are hoping to go out on the last Friday of the month. He's inviting some other work people but I will probably meet them a bit later (since I don't work Friday's anymore, bliss!) Then he's staying over at mine, for his sins. We will possibly end up in The Living Room at some point. Apparently he's going to get drunk and take over the piano and I have to drape myself over it in an evening gown and sing I Will Survive. Perhaps the campest plan for a birthday celebration I have heard of but that's why you gotta love the 'Muffin! I'm really looking forward to it.

Of course, preparations for the outfit have already begun and I ordered myself some dresses off Warehouse the other day. I had to return one because I couldn't possibly squeeze my boobs into it but there are two others to choose from so I can start accessorising now. The one I had to return was typically the nicest too. But I suppose life goes on.

Today, I met Dedalus and went over an application form with him. He's applying for a job at my place and we dropped in today to print the form off and say 'hi' to 'Muffin. It was really bizarre being in there with him and introducing the two of them - like two worlds colliding. We had a bit of an awkward conversation over coffee about how his ex had asked him not to talk to me anymore. Apparently she knew he liked me and was threatened by me so he cut off contact because he loved her. He said he still loves her even though they're not together. He's having a difficult time with the break up I think and I'm not sure how to help. I showed him the photographs from the Christmas party and he was asking about Alfie. I'm an absolutely rubbish liar and completely transparent when I try to gloss over things so I think he suspects that I like him. He asked who looked after Puppy while we were away too so I had to tell him he died.

Anyway, we might be going to see The Pursuit of Happyness over the weekend, and I'm hoping to get a bit of studying done tomorrow. The Dedalus thing is really weird and I'm not sure how I feel about being friends with him again to be honest. I appreciate what he said about his ex but I just can't help feeling that he let me down. I don't know why he wants to be friends again or if it's too late to be friends again. It's nice to see him and stuff but, I don't know. Is it real? Am I a distraction of the rebound variety? Am I a doormat? Am I seriously stressing over another guy? Gah.

Tomorrow, no men. Dissertation. (About fucking time!)

The Power of Goodbye

2007-01-11T23:49:00.000Z

I've been having real trouble sleeping these past few weeks, going over Alfie stuff in my head. I know that I got completely carried away with the Alfie stuff and it was all very unnecessary, but for whatever reason I just felt really strongly about him and still do. The feeling of being around him was kind of addictive. I remember a day where I was walking my usual route to work and I just felt so happy. I was almost laughing to myself I felt so ecstatic about how things were going and the fact that I would get to see him. There were bad times too, where I stressed about him for no apparent reason at all and made myself ill. Things were never going to be easy since I wasn't strictly available, no matter how either of us acted. But I am getting to a point where I can see a way out. I don't want to speak too soon because I know my emotions are up and down and sideways at the moment. I never thought I would feel like this about anyone but my boyfriend and it's been kind of a shock. Shock is a good word - I've shocked myself. But I feel a certain grace and a certain peace in relinquishing it all. It's tough, and I don't want it to be the end, but it is the end. It's over. And, I must have moved on a little because I am glad I don't have to work with him any more. Before Christmas I just really wanted him back at our place because it would mean I could see him every day and there wouldn't be this urgency, but now I feel glad that there is some space between us and I have that to use to get over him. It takes me a really long time to get over somebody because I really don't form such strong attachments easily. I don't know why I did become so attached to him on such a limited basis. I know so much about him that I would dislike in a partner that it's kind of crazy that I liked him in the first place...

I'm sure I will continue to have trouble sleeping and to think about Alfie a lot. But I do catch myself at times thinking about other things entirely, and feel glad. And I walked past his office the other day without even getting that feeling in my stomach, even though he's not there. I'm getting somewhere, even if it's only baby steps. I do still wonder if I will hear from him again. At the end of the day, I know he meant more to me than I did to him. But that doesn't have to negate my feelings. Just because he doesn't care about me, doesn't mean I can't care about him. I still do and I wish him well. Things didn't turn out like I wanted, but maybe they turned out like I needed. Only time will tell and I'm reaching the point where I feel like I can wait. Alfie can populate my daydreams without corrupting my reality and that's all okay. One day, I'll get a new dream.

Before all this happened, I was happy with my boyfriend. I used to go to work and miss him, and everyone would tease me about how he was the perfect man and nobody could compare to him. I don't know why this happened or what the right thing to do really is. I'm just hoping that one day I get that feeling back.

Ugly In More Ways

2007-01-07T23:09:00.000Z

Jesus Christ, I've been back to blogging one day and already I am here feeling sorry for myself and putting my total self absorption and general embodiment of the word pathetic out there for all the world to see, if they happen to be bored and clicking 'next blog'. I'm thinking they'll click it again right around... now.

Okay, here it is, the self pity roll, let's get it all (mostly) out in one go: Alfie doesn't like me, I'm ugly and unloveable and unsuccessful and lazy and rubbish and my own worst enemy and untalented and destined to be unhappy for ever and on top of that an ungrateful bitch who deserves everything she gets.

I'm listening to George Michael's I Can't Make You Love Me. I've got issues.

That's right: I'm back! And so is the PMS. In a few days, I'll try and shake this off. But until then, I am letting myself wallow in this self destructive and completely uncalled-for funk. I realise this makes me a bad person, but I've done worse things recently. I'm going to cry and eat chocolate cake and write really awful posts. Are ya still with me?

Oh look, a tumbleweed...

Still Crazy

2007-01-07T17:07:00.000Z

I'm home! Arrived back in Liverpool at two this morning. I have to say I was quite surprised by how much I missed the place. I've always thought of myself as a bit of a country girl at heart but I really missed the city. Maybe it was because I knew I was missing out on all the January bargains? Maybe it was because I couldn't check my email? Or maybe this is all part of my recent metamorphosis. I really hope I don't end up like Gregor Samsa.

So, I shall reiterate my Happy New Year of the last post, since it is now actually 2007. What what what? And in this year, I shall be 25. Oh My God. Time for some changes methinks.

Back to work tomorrow. I am dreading it, particularly the sound of my alarm clock in the morning, but in a weird way it feels good to be back and work is part of that. Now that I'm part time, it doesn't totally rule my life anymore so I can't grumble too much. And it's kind of nice that it feels good to be back home; I was looking forward to getting back to my life and sorting things out. It was only a week, but I missed my friends and my city and to a certain extent my routines. Who would have thought it eh?

As for the Alfie stuff, it is really getting to be too much for me. So I'm going to try and spend more time doing things with people who actually care about me. The real dilemma in all of this is what I should do about my future with Boyf. He wants me to move in with him this year and really I need to be clear in my mind that that's what I want before I commit. The trouble is that I really don't think I am ready. I do want to move house, but if I were to move somewhere else with MJ I think Boyf would be pissed off. And to be honest, I'm still holding out for Alfie, even though I know I shouldn't. I am trying to move on but it's tough.

So - yeah. That's my stuff. I've already caught up with some of the action I missed in the regular reads, and plan to catch up on the rest during work time tomorrow!

Once More With Feeling

2006-12-28T00:14:00.000Z

Ten things I want for 2007. Publishing this is going to be a mistake, but I figure I'll throw some easy things in there so if it all goes tits up I can still say I accomplished something.

- Smart car.
- Pink sweater.
- Puggle.
- Move house.
- Colour my hair.

- Masters degree.
- Dirty weekend at gorgeous hotel.
- Place on a postgrad journalism course.
- Take at least one night class in something fun.
- Learn a little more French.

If you're chortling at the positioning of 'pink sweater' above 'Masters degree', I would just like to point out that the list is randomly ordered! Actually, scrap pink sweater, that's rubbish, though it does fulfil the easy quota mentioned above. Let's be daring and put this instead: get on a plane. Fuck it, let's really scare myself silly!

For anyone who might not know, a Puggle is a cross between a Pug and a Beagle, how effing cute is that! I fell in love with the dog on In Her Shoes, who is a Pug mix. But I will probably try and get a dog from a rescue place. Puggle is the ideal, but I'll take any little pooch with a bit of character really. I just like looking at this picture and going: "Awwwww!"
It's Alfie's birthday next month. If we're still in touch, I'm thinking of buying him a present. He has this pair of Vivienne Westwood cufflinks that he loves. I had a look at the website hoping they did some different styles, but they only do the one pair. However, they have them in both gold and silver. I'm assuming his are silver because they are silver-coloured, though they could easily be white gold. I'm wondering if it's worth me buying him the gold pair. It's also 'Muffin's birthday on the 29th. Must get my thinking cap on for him. He deserves it so much more than Alfie!

Merry Christmas. Discuss.

2006-12-27T13:54:00.000Z

Hey everyone, hope you all had a great Christmas. Here's my quick recap: cool presents, though not a single pair of earrings, good food, people missing, yucky yucky cough medicine, more Mybug than I was bargaining for, morning text from Alfie signed 'lots of love x.'

Let's expand on those points. I know it's terrible of me to list these first, hello Material Girl, but the presents, they are the main feature of our family Christmas. We start opening on Christmas Eve, then at about 2 in the morning we call time, go to bed, and resume once we're all collected in the living room with cups of tea. Then the clan descends with more presents to exchange and we end up with about six rubbish bags full of wrapping paper.

So as naff as this sounds, my top 5 presents: D&G watch, gorgeous boots I picked out myself, GHD straighteners, Beyonce tickets, some nice lingerie I immediately imagined wearing for Alfie - bad, bad Chica.

Beyonce tickets people!! Ring that alarm!

Zero earrings, apart from the pair 'Muffin bought me. I thought that since I only had my ears pierced for the first time six weeks ago, that I would be inundated with the things. But not a single pair. It's possibly a good thing. I was just surprised, since people say they never know what to get me and that was the obvious choice.

Food. My mum cooked. Beautiful. We had a great Christmas dinner but we also had a champagne breakfast which was very civilised. We are normally so busy we don't get to eat until the main meal of the day, but this year we made time and it was lovely. Although, I think some people may have been anxious to get it over with. My niece Pebbles was like: "Can we do the presents now?!" as soon as she had finished the last bite.

A few of our family traditions have had to be adjusted due to some things that happened last year, so for parts of the day people who would usually be present were absent. Our family is a little fragmented and on days like Christmas Day you can really feel it. Plus, I really missed Puppy. And Boyf had to go to his mothers, which normally doesn't happen. Mostly, I missed my sister coming for dinner, though we did get to see her in the morning for our champagne breakfast.

I haven't had to take cough medicine since I was about 5 years old, but I have this awful cough and sore throat that keeps me awake all night. Yesterday, Boyf went to find an open chemist and returned with some drugs, including this really horrible cough medicine that I have to drink. Ick. Due to the sick, I spent yesterday watching Buffy DVDs and the Take That concert. Memories!! This does mean however that I am not scooping up any bargains in the sales this year. Which is poo.

I got a fair few texts from friends on Christmas Day wishing me a Merry Christmas, the first of whom was 'Muffin :) I managed to hold out and not text Alfie, so I was quite proud of myself. I also refrained from running out and buying him any presents. I probably would have cracked and text him on Christmas Day, because at the end of the day he is kind of my friend and I wanted to wish him a good day. But by eleven o'clock he'd text me so I was happy. I didn't reply until about 3 o'clock and haven't heard anything since. But I was pleased he'd bothered to text me at all and I know he likes spending time with his nephew on Christmas Day. We talked about him when we went out and it was the most unguarded I have ever seen him.

I also got a Merry Christmas message from Mybug. I was surprised because I don't really expect straight guys to think of things like that. I replied and said I hoped he got lots of nice presents under the tree. He replied 'Unfortunately none of them was you x.' Then at about one in the morning, after he'd clearly had a few drinks, he started texting me again. He wasn't even waiting for replies but kept texting stuff like 'I think you are so beautiful x x.' (I so need him to give Alfie some tips.)

Mybug: A good day, missing your sexy ass though, am badly pished x x
Chica: Ha I can tell! Missing my sexy ass? You haven't seen it for about 6 months! Are you out at the mo? x
Mybug: Yeah in party. I assume it's something that would still make me stop in my tracks x
Mybug: I think you are so beautiful x x
Chica: Yep you are defo pissed! Didn't think beer goggles worked unless you were there in person but there you go!
Mybug: Beer goggles, my ass you're a fittie! Trust me you rock. Are you out thursday? X

He invited me to a party but I leave for France on Thursday. The next day he text me and apologised for being rude and said he would make it up to me with some 'well deserved sweetness', but I assured him I'd heard a lot worse and thought he was funny.

Christmas Day was absolutely knackering, I'm still really tired and I can't believe I have to get myself together for travelling tomorrow! We are spending the New Year in our French village. It's just me and the Boyf going so we will get a lot of time together. I'm both happy and nervous about that. I will really miss MJ on New Years Eve for a start. And I will have to wish you all a very Happy New Year now because even though Wondy managed to blog from Thailand, there is one internet cafe in the surrounding towns of our French village, and I have never ever seen it open!

Oh, and do you remember I bought Alfie's cologne and didn't know what to do with it? I gave it to Boyf (I know! But hello, I couldn't keep my hands off him! Even my sister said he smelled gorgeous.) MJ also got it for Christmas. When Boyf opened it, he asked if Alfie or 'Muffin wore it. They actually both wear it but I just mumbled that I didn't know. Luckily he said he really liked it, but MJ broke all possible tension by announcing: "All Chica's bitches wear it!"

Love. Him.

Hope you've all enjoyed the holidays so far, Happy New Year! May all your wishes come true in 2007 xxx

What's It All About?

2006-12-24T13:19:00.000Z

It's Christmas Eve Day!! Christmas Eve is my favourite part of Christmas. It's the slice of time we get to ourselves before the extended relatives descend upon us, bringing the madness with them. By midnight, we are opening presents - I know, I think Santa must hit our house first or something? And, when the turkey is cooked, we have hot turkey and stuffing sandwiches. Sometimes a glass of champagne. We stay up really late creating a mountain of discarded wrapping paper, and much laughter is had by all.

Yesterday, since I am still sick and could not face the chores I now have to do today, I had a movie day. I watched, in order, Five Children and It (Eddie Izzard if you please!), The Nightmare Before Christmas, Alfie, and In Her Shoes. Then I couldn't sleep all night because of this cough and this dilemma: when should I, if at all, text my Alfie?

Now, since I have watched the movie, I have the ideal opportunity to text and tease him about it, but, BUT, I was thinking I should wait and see if he bothers to text me over Christmas. However, if he doesn't I will read all kinds of shizz into that, when really maybe he doesn't feel like he should bother me when I am with my boyfriend? He doesn't know I'm a crazy bitch who thinks about him non-stop, and could possibly feel he was encroaching on my space? Or, do men even think of these things at all? Does the should I/shouldn't I wheel of indecision even enter their brains? Or do they just do whatever the hell they feel like?

I know I said I wasn't going to pursue him any more, you giving me the eyes there at the back. So maybe I shouldn't text at all unless he does. But I really want him to. I am just dying to kiss him again. And since he made the effort with all the emails and everything, would he feel like I'm not making the effort, so why should he?

You see, it's hard work being a crazy bitch.

Plans for today include: still trying to get that last minute present for my mum (there's always one isn't there?), finally going to see The Holiday - more Jude, Jude overload could push me into a text (by the way if any of you are wondering what Alfie's sexy look looks like, it looks pretty much like Alfie's sexy look here) - then having a nice soak in the bath and possibly a glass of Baileys, putting on some new Christmas pyjamas, and settling in for the fun.

Enjoy the festivities people!