Friday Night is Nudie Night

Every Friday night I get treated to a few minutes of nude dancing by Charles! We come home from tango and puff our way up the stairs to his flat, then I flag out on the bed whilst he turns the shower on and starts stripping his clothes off. I quite like this part of the evening! He does have rather a good body – fabulous thighs – and I get treated to a show of muscle flexing and toe pointing, twisting and posing, all at my request. Sometimes he pulls me up off the bed to try tango moves out on me. Naked.

What a lucky girl I am!

My Morning Routine

7.30am I vaguely become aware that the radio is on. Grooh, late for work.

Roll out of bed and stagger to the loo. I can do the whole ‘going to the loo’ bit without ever opening my eyes… I roll over the edge of the bed and stand up so that the bed is to my left, then walk forwards along the side of the bed with left arm outstretched until I feel the bedpost. This I swing around until I hit the bed again, then walk forwards to the door and grope for the handle. Open the door and slide my left arm along the wall until I find the door frame to the bathroom. Swing around the door frame and into the bathroom. Shuffle forwards 3 paces, turn around, sit down. Right hand out finds the loo roll. Stand up. Then do everything in reverse back into my bedroom again. Pyjamas off and fling them in the direction of the bed.

Only then do I need to open my eyes in order to hunt for some knickers.

Grope through pile of clothes on chair to find something wearable. Top and bottom will hopefully match. If they don’t I will go to work looking very odd, as my new policy is to wear all my slightly worn clothes before I pull anything fresh out of my wardrobe, due to my ‘slightly worn’ pile reaching Everest-like heights.

Stagger back to bathroom and clean teeth.

Stagger to kitchen and pull lunch out of fridge. Usually this ends up being just a pot of houmous and a yoghurt, as my planned ‘preparing a healthy lunch the night before’ routine has never yet actually got off the ground.

Pick up handbag and shoes on way back through sitting room. Slide feet into shoes and pick up coat from floor.

Stagger out to car.

Drive to work. Initially I drive at 60 mph as I am trying to become less of a speed-freak, but within 30 seconds I am doing 90 mph as I should have been at work by now and everyone else is just driving so dang slow!

Turning off the motorway I lick my finger and rub last night’s mascara from underneath my eyes.

Arrive at work and try to tiptoe upstairs without anyone spotting me. Phew – my boss isn’t in yet!

Switch computer on, spread papers across my desk, and attempt to look as though I’ve been sat there, hard at work, for simply hours.

Notice, in the mirror on my desk, that I have merely smeared last night’s mascara further round my face, it hasn’t actually disappeared… so wet my finger again and have another rub. My hair is doing a pretty good impression of an electrocuted brillo pad, so pull a comb out of my desk drawer and drag it through my hair.

My boss arrives. “Good morning!” she calls, merrily.

Sigh and stretch as though I’ve been working forever and need a break, and wander off in search of coffee and breakfast.

Whole routine from waking up to sitting at desk – 40 minutes! Not bad!

* * * * *

Evening: I just put my dressing gown on and it smells of Charles - made my heart go all twangy!

Enchanting Flesh Loss Product!

You know those spam emails offering you willy-lengthening products, free naked housewives, etc. I've just received one trying to sell me a diet pill and it has obviously, and hilariously, been written by a non-English speaker, probably using one of those internet translation sites:

End the annoying obesity now!

*** - the up-to-the-moment and most enchanting flesh-loss product.

Do you realize redundant body kilos kill very much people for every new year? We know that you hate the unattractive appearance of those people. Moreover, you can't resist an assault of your fatal eating habits. Here *** comes, the later product for the reduction of your body's extra weight. Pay you attention to some notes received from our customers:

"One day I was told about *** the media by and I was really effected by the information. I had tried to take it, and my wife said to me that I look very good now, 4 months later. 32 pounds off and it is still far to an end. And you know, it's rather hot in our bedroom now."

*** helps your brain to understand that you doesn't have such a great need for the constant eating. Great thanks to its powerful original formula!

(link) Elicit more information.

Erm, yes - enchanting! And I think his 'customer' could do with a few English lessons too!

New Shoes

Me and Charles have new tango shoes!

I went round to his flat tonight with our package from the postman. We opened our boxes, pushed aside the rustly tissue paper, and pulled them out. I was as excited as Imelda Marcos on a visit to Jimmy Choo - couldn't stop squeaking! They are fab! Mine are sparkly and strappy, Charles' are classic and just perfect.

I can't wait until we go dancing in them!

Happy Chocolate

I just tried a form of reverse psychology on myself without realising. Someone I work with came up to me and asked me to do a last minute (and very boring) job that needs to be done by first thing tomorrow morning. I thought "Oh crap!" but, as he's a nice person, I offered him a Cadburys Mini Egg anyway. So he went away happily crunching his egg, and I felt happy at his visit to my desk because I had done a nice thing. Happy instead of pissed off... how about that! I shall now just have to keep a never-ending supply of chocolate eggs on my desk to hand out to the never-ending queue of people who come and ask me to do crap, then my world will be forever rosy. Except that I know I would eat every egg myself and so continually be buying more and then continually be eating more ad infinitum... so perhaps that's not a very realistic idea after all.

I've just realised - most of my blog posts seem either to be about Charles or about chocolate. Easy to tell which things are most important in my life!

Men and Computers

The things you have to do to get a man's attention! Lying in Charles' bed watching him type away on his computer at 3 o'clock this morning, and wishing he would come to bed and cuddle me, I resorted to picking up my Blackberry and emailing him: "Come to bed, I want your willy!"

It didn't work! :-(

Easter Eggs, Easter Bunnies...

Ever since I was a little girl I've had a weight problem. At least, looking back at photos now I can see that I didn't - I wasn't fat, I wasn't even chunky - but my mother had me on constant diets and managed to convince me that I was a big fat heiffer and should be ashamed of my waistless child's body. So perhaps unsurprisingly I've always had rather a guilty relationship with any food that isn't green and boring. Things are different now - I really do have a big, bouncing belly - however I'm still scared of food... so scared in fact that I have to eat every piece of chocolate or cake that I ever come across so that it won't keep looking at me and taunting me!

So it is with trepidation that I enter supermarkets at this time of year. By this time of year I mean Easter. And by Easter I mean January through to April, such is the extended calendar of supermarkets. By late January my local supermarket had Easter eggs on sale. At the end of February the Lindt gold bunnies appeared. And today I spotted piles of Cadburys Easter cakes in all their tempting glory when I went to fill my car up with petrol. The stupid thing is, most of these items aren't even particularly nice (Lindt gold bunnies excepted!). They are made from cheap chocolate that is so thin you can almost see your hand through it, they are amazingly overpriced for the amount of chocolate you get, and an ordinary bar of Green & Blacks milk chocolate tastes far nicer. Yet something about them still calls out to me! Maybe it's seeing them all stacked up, row upon row disappearing into the horizon; maybe it's the egg/bunny shape; maybe it's because they are not available all year round and so become a 'grab it while you can' item. Dunno! I just wish they would go on sale for Easter week only, where they belong!

Oh well, time to eat my tea now... if I can fit anything else into my belly after the whole box of Easter cakes I've just scoffed! Grooh!

Pink Roses

My byoootiful flowers!

Last night me and Charles had a row. I won’t bore you with what it was about, suffice it to say that it was pretty much down to the strain he’s been under with work over the past few weeks. The poor boy has been working every night and every weekend for weeks, with no time to himself at all, and his mood is as taut as a tightrope. To be honest I don’t know how he’s still standing… he’s obviously made of very strong stuff!

Anyway, I didn’t cope with our row very well at all. I got into my car and, as I was too upset to drive safely, and was pretty sure I wouldn’t be welcome upstairs right at that moment either, I sat there and bawled my eyes out for two hours, then gently hiccupped and sniffed for another two until I was calm enough to drive home just after midnight. It was a little bit too public there for my liking. People kept walking past and I would try to put on a nonchalant ‘normal’ face until they had moved on, then dissolve again into tearful squeaking as soon as they were out of sight. One annoying old man had obviously decided I was acting ‘suspiciously’ by sitting in my car. He was doing his Neighbourhood Watch bit, walking past again and again, glaring in my direction, obviously trying to let me know that he had seen me in order to stop me getting up to whatever dreadful thing it was that I was planning to do. Because of course a tottery old man with a walking stick is going to stop me! After about the fourth or fifth time he passed I felt like leaping out of the car and screaming “Fuck off will you!” only it would have come out as little more than a hiccup, so I just sat there and glared back at him instead.

Today I was so frog-eyed and stuffy-headed from my long crying session, and still pretty tearful, that when I got to work I immediately turned around and came home again and got back into bed. Still fully clothed. From the night before! God I’m so scuzzy!

I finally got up and had a bath at 5.30pm, and began to feel a little better. Then suddenly my day got lots better! Charles, darling wonderful gorgeous Charles, turned up at my door with two pink miniature rose plants, both in bloom. And both in pink felt bags with butterflies sewn onto them. Anyone who knows how much I like both butterflies and flowers will realise what a lovely present this was for me! I was so touched! I burst into tears all over again and hugged him so hard… he is sooo the best boyfriend in the whole world!

Aww Cute!

Last night Charles gave me a little chocolate Conetto, which is kind of like a Cornetto but in miniature and without the ice cream... which I suppose makes it not like a Cornetto at all really, but there you go. It is so cute! Unbelieveably for something made of chocolate I haven’t scarfed it yet... instead I like to look at it and go “Aww cute!”

Minced Goolies for Tea

Poor Charles - he's looking a kind of pale green colour at the moment! It's not healthy for him being nocturnal and never having any rest. The people at work don't seem to realise what efforts he's putting in, they don't see him at the weekends with twelve bags under each eye working away on their crap instead of resting like they are, and not even having time to read the paper. He had a horrible meeting yesterday where they pretty much told him off... and because I know just what huge efforts he's been making I want to go down to his office and put his bosses' goolies through a mincer... they should actually be thanking him for all the extra effort he's putting in!

Heavy

I’ve got a broke back, I’m all humpy and creaky like an old lady! Just bought a statue at the garden centre because it was half price and my god it’s heavy! Took about half an hour to get it in from the car. It’s now looking at me across the sitting room and I really can’t be bothered to try to heft it outside, so it might just have to stay there all night!

I Want My TV!

I want my TV! I used to come home from work and turn it on and all these nice friendly people would start talking to me about interesting things, or making me laugh. Now I come home and I sit and listen to myself chewing my dinner. And I sound like a hamster.

Madam, There is No Petrol

Coo, what a palaver. I was running late for my flamenco class this evening but thought I could just about make it as long as I didn’t hit any traffic on the way. However I had driven to work and back on an empty petrol tank so I urgently needed to fill up if I didn’t want to phut phut my way to a standstill two minutes into my journey.

So, off to my local petrol station… all the unleaded pumps were taped up. Shit! Off to another petrol station a mile down the road… again all the unleaded pumps were taped up… but, ooh, I spotted one pump without any tape over it, so reversed speedily backwards and shunted myself into place next to it. I unhooked the pump from its slot and stuck it into the petrol tank of my car... pressed the lever to start the petrol flowing... one clunk, and then nothing. Shit again!

A man came running up carrying a piece of tape to stick over the pump, “Madam, Madam, there is no petrol left.” Yes I had gathered that thanks! I jammed the pump handle back into its slot and turned to get back into my car. Buggering hell, I was probably going to run out of petrol on the way home now and have to abandon my poor car in some ditch to rust until I could find a St Bernard with a barrelful of petrol on its collar to come and rescue it. However, joy of joy, the man then pointed me to pump number 11 and said he had just a teeny tiny amount of petrol available in that one pump and I could take £10 worth. Pheee-ew! I took exactly my allotted quantity and went inside the garage to pay. The girl at the counter said that BP have run totally out of petrol, and therefore all the garages they supply – BP, Jet, Sainsburys, etc – can’t get any. Erk, panic! My little slopful of petrol won’t last me more than a couple of days, what will I do then?

One final place to try – a Shell garage up the road. Maybe they had run out too but you never knew. As I got close I could see long queues of cars lining up to enter. I took this as a good sign and joined a queue hopefully and, sure enough, I was able to fill up the rest of my tank there. Thank goodness! It looks like Britain might just be about to run out of petrol once we’ve sucked Shell dry too, but at least I can keep going for another week now, by which time with any luck everything will be back to normal. I have vowed never again to let my petrol tank get to empty though, it’s too scary!

And, no, I didn’t make it to my flamenco class.

Years ago when I was a student at university – 1992/93 to be precise – I was a superfit, athletic type who sped around on my bike at thirty miles per hour, swam lengths every morning, sweated it out in the gym every afternoon, and lived on nothing but chicken and broccoli. Aeons have passed since that time, and nowadays I sit around on my lardy arse, too lazy even to change the channel on the TV, yet I still haven’t quite left that image of myself behind. I like to think that hidden below my numerous belly tyres is a six-pack of muscle; that buns of steel are working away beneath my blancmange buttocks; that I could run a marathon at the drop of a hat if I so desired... but I can fool myself no longer, unfortunately. I decided to walk into town at lunchtime in order to jolt a few calories out of my body, a round trip of approximately an hour. Phroo, I was totally knackered! When I arrived back at work I slumped into my chair and opened my packed lunch, and I could barely, tremblingly, lift my fork to eat my incredibly delicious edamame beans with coriander dressing...

London Flamenco Festival

I've seen various shows at the London Flamenco Festival over this last week. Most of them were sooooo crap! Basically I paid my money to see... people standing around looking arty... or walking slowly across the stage and back again (looking arty)... or getting dressed and undressed on stage... women cuddling shoes... shoes falling from the ceiling... and a grand finale combination of all of the above - a woman walking slowly and artily across the stage whilst pouring sand out of numerous shoes!!! This was flamenco??!! This afternoon was the last show, and thank goodness Charles had booked tickets for this one as it saved the week! This was Aire de Jerez - a group of children from Jerez performing flamenco - and this was the proper stuff, lots of passionate stamping and clicking, very clever and fast and amazing to look at. My god they were fantastic, and only aged about 12! They had such passion and such poise! They really showed up the adults' shows for the arty-farty crap that they were.

Charles has written a letter to complain about the festival this year, and I think I will do the same. One of the shows only lasted about an hour and we paid £38 a ticket for that!! It should have been half price for being half a show!

I've given Charles my TV to look after. Drastic! I'm trying to be more productive and I just find I spend all my time looking at the TV and flicking channels to see what's on, it's not getting much done. I feel a bit lost without it though, it's scary! A friend from tango, Khristos, sent me an encouraging email saying he thinks that it's a good thing to do as he doesn't have a TV and, once I get over my initial lost feeling, I will become less passive and more productive and will feel very satisfied with my life. I hope so!! (If you live in the Richmond area and see a miserable face peering in your window one evening this week it's only me trying to see your telly!)

Lunar Eclipse

There is a lunar eclipse tonight, happening right now as I type! It's exciting! I saw the total eclipse of the sun in 1999 - I went down to Cornwall to see that - but until today I hadn't seen the moon do its thing. Here's a composite photograph of the first half of tonight's eclipse. (I'm going to bed now, so you won't get the second half!)

Pretty Ladies

Raj sent me a text to say he’s been asked to stay on at work in Kiev for another couple of weeks. He must like it out there to be staying even longer. I reckon he’s staying because of the pretty ladies!