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Thursday, 30 April 2009

In which the Gory Gusset Matador comes to call,,,

Well the aquisition of new dresses has begun. Long and floaty, lots of colour and flowers. I haven't worn anything remotely like that for many years. I hope I don't look like a two seater sofa in the flowery one because with my luck someone will sit on me and fart!
One bloody, sodding pound was all I lost this week! I can't believe it! I've practically starved myself and that's all it was. Not that a visit from the gory gusset matador didn't play it's role. Fancy that, just when I thought all that was over, back it comes again. Got caught out at work and had to borrow, with some embarrassment, some flamin' Tena lady pants from one of the inmates. So to add insult to injury I was going around with a stomach ache and an arse the size of a principality.
Am still planning little hol in June with second reserve, moved up to pole position, and I don't think I'll bother with Boat 2 at all. He seems to have a vital statistic obsession and, frankly, any old geezer of sixty six should be bloody grateful to have the prospect of a handful of squashy fifty one year old dangled afore him!
If this one doesn't ding my bell I shall retire gracefully for the rest of the summer and come back with a bang, hopefully, in time for a festive fumble with some sad old git from the Times lonely hearts column.

Tuesday, 28 April 2009

in which I am so fed up...

I am sick of walking into this flat every night and being alone. Edward, and I can understand it, doesn't even come out of his room. His is sixteen after all, but this evening when I called out pleasantries, he just shouted that he couldn't hear me.
Vile husband has decided to give up the one day per week he's been working in favour of holding out for a computer type job. It's ok for me though, to do any low paid servile job to feed and house his son single handedly.
I haven't sold a painting for two months and now things are becoming dire. I can't meet my committments from just the day job, but hey, why should vile husband compromise his principles? I am feeling low and horrible and no one is ever going to care about me again. Why should they? I'm old, too fat and ugly.
There isn't anyone out there for me and I don't know why I've been kidding myself that there is. I may as well forget all about it.

Saturday, 25 April 2009

In which I want to be a cricket wife

New one is creating a very difficult position for all others. Even though he looks like a cross between Captain Mainwaring and Ian Hislop he is definitely hitting me where I live. Today a parcel arrived from Amazon. Inside were four books, three of which were about Henry VIII. Well, need I say more! I shall now have to finish the painting of said 'Henno' and shall very likely give it to him. No more sailors have emerged apart from the very elderly one of last week. No, not the one I actually went sailing with, another one, even older than the last. The question is, shall I meet him? Do I want any more complications? I really don't know now.
If I don't I shall have six boring weeks before new number one comes to stay. If the physical spark is as good as the mental one, I think that'll be it. Odd really, because this one has been hovvering on the subs bench for ages. I don't quite know why I continued the dialogue because to all intents and purposes he doesn't look to be anything like what I had in mind. But, with my track record that's probably a good thing. After all, there's no one so interesting as someone who's really intereseted in one, is there?
He is dangling all sorts of possibilities before me, such as my actually giving up vile day job to paint all the time, and much foreign travel. Coupled with the fact that he really seems to actually want to look after me, which in my situation is something completely new.
Well, the upshot of that is, I have started divorce proceedings and paid upfront, and shall be free in sixteen to eighteen weeks. I've got my marriage certificate back from vile husband and have only been married since 2002. So, have been separated for as long as married.
I'd do it all again though and am rather enamoured with the prospect of being a cricket wife and floating around in a Laura Ashley frock dispensing tea and cake.
Shall I go and live in Eastbourne if I like him? Or, shall I stay here? It's definitely a meeting of minds, it just remains to be seen what happens when flesh collides.
Shall I wear the super power panty spanx or the sloggies? Or, do I throw caution to the wind and buy some special shagging shreddies? I don't want to end up like Jim Royle, having paid a quid for a thong and get fifty penceworth stuck up me bum!

Thursday, 23 April 2009

In which I am project managed

Put on half a pound at fat club! Lied, though and reported half a pound loss. Hardly surprising having been fed all sorts of landed gentry type scoff for the weekend. If he'd been a little more active in the trousorial department perhaps I have worked it off! I am still smarting from being ignored in me best jamas! Anyhow there's plenty more sailors in the sea and one of them is pulling into me dry, or moist, dock next Friday! Not that I shall sanction any gusset warbling now I have the love interest, but hey, must have some fun before it's too late!
Speaking of love interest, he's full steam ahead making plans for our future. In fact, I feel decidedly project managed. Apparently the plan is for him to maintain his place and me mine for three years and live between the two. Him, that is, not me! I don't think so! Imagine all the elderly sailors I could see off in that time. I have no intention of spending any time alone and still working in that ghastly job of mine. I rather see myself dressed in Laura Ashley floating around a cricket pavilion making tea, or ordering minion gardeners around in the grounds. I've done such a good job of bigging up Wivey that not only does he want to live here, he wants me to stay here too. I want a new adventure! Anyhow I'm confident I shall be able to manipulate the situation to my requirements. I doubt he'll be able to resist best jim jams, especially if they're folded up on the bed and I'm draped round the bannisters!
I'll phone him in a minute and tell him which way's up!

Wednesday, 22 April 2009

In which I introduce Boat 2...

Boat 2 has sailed in on a fair wind. I had an email from another chap with a boat asking to meet me. I emailed back asking what kind of boat, had satisfactory answer, and Robert's yer Dad's brother!
Had divine compliment from friend K who reckons I'm firmer than the other fat ladies at fat club and that she'd shag me if she was a bloke! There's no finer compliment than that from the Pink One. However, I have been boarded up by the council and condemned through lack of use, so I do need a practise shag before beginning adolescent summer shag fest season.
Not that it looks very promising as vile fat slug boss won't let me have the week off. Maybe now is the time to tell her about her husband shagging an eighteen year old in the back of his car. Weight for weight he could have had at least two instead of her the sour faced, wobbly old harridan.
Am still not sharing love interest. I must keep one to myself.
Popular opinion is that C's got trousorial difficulties. How anyone could resist me in me best black jim jams with tousled hair and pink windblown cheeks spreadeagled out on the hearth rug in front of a blazing fire, is beyond me. Anyhow, yet another illness related email arrived and it is now assumed he's taken fright. A definite 'be careful what you wish for' situation.
Am currently plotting either new job or dire illness to accomodate the time required for Summer of Love with Love Interest.
Have swapped 'Big' for 'Small' and all is well in the land of the expectant gusset.
Have just remembered lesbian stalker I had last summer after being admired by K. I have no gaydar and didn't even realise I'd moistened her boilersuit with me girlish ways! Anyhow, following a long and protracted stalking I had to be rescued by BF and BFP. The trauma inspired me to pen an ode to the drama...

What fun can ensue,
with a didgeridoo
quite thrilling for one,
and delicious with two.
Come, take up your end
Please, don't say you won't.
For I'll didgeridoo
If you didgeridon't

She had one by the way...

Tuesday, 21 April 2009

In which I have another sailboat dangled in front of me

I have just had an email from another chap with a sailing boat. To further feed my new addiction I have replied. He's even older than the last one, so what the heck!
I am to meet my new front runner in June, so plenty of time for sailing until then. I shall, of course, tell him and I know he'll understand. After all, until we meet, who knows! Most of the sailing chaps just want someone to sail with and after last week, that's me!
High seas, here I come again!!
I am having a lovely relaxing break from work and went out with chum Joan this afternoon and had masses of fun looking for somewhere secluded and romantic for my June liaison.
Dust off the crimpelene bridesmaids dresses girls I hear the sound of church bells, literally actually, it's bell ringing practice tonight.
Will it be an onboard wedding, either on the high seas or on the train!

In which I find one just right for me

Good Morning Dear Reader,
I am going to keep this one to myself. The others were cultivated in the spirit of making the blog more interesting. This one is for me.
A man who:
is a good father
has a strong Christian ethic
looks after his Mother
is not afraid to take a job, any job, following redundancy from a high flying career
is well spoken
is witty
is exceptionally well educated
makes witty remarks and funny jokes
laughs at my jokes!
sends me little gifts
calls me to ask how I am at all hours
respects my opinions
is completely different to me in almost every respect
is very likely to be THE ONE

Monday, 20 April 2009

In which I am required to blog again so soon

I am required to blog again so soon, dear reader, following yet another strange illness related email from C. Now, I have a feeling that since he has had the benefit of my company overnight he now realises that there may actually be a requiremement for physical contact, and, heaven forfend, sex! It has been pointed out to me by various people that he may be lacking in that department as a consequence of illness and age. We are currently at the stage where we have agreed not to meet for two weeks whilst he seeks a solution. I don't think I shall make first contact so he now has the option of sailing off into the sunset, literally! Pity, I liked sailing a lot more than sailors!
So, now I feel it's time to introduce C2, second reserve, now moved up into pole position. Already sending gifts and booking a holiday down here to see me. That is all I shall say about him at present because with his lack of baggage and illness, plus beautiful speaking voice and interesting conversations, he may well end this little blogging journey as long as he hasn't got his face on inside out.

In which 'Big' hurts me again!

After contacting 'Big' to tell him to leave me alone, I get yet another email. He must gain some perverse satisfaction from upsetting me. He doesn't have the courage to move on in his life but I have to find it to move on in mine. I don't deserve to be alone, nor do I deserve to be taunted, for that's what it is, by 'Big' and his little scenarios of 'what might have been.' There is something rather unpleasant about people who sit and wallow in misery and self pity about how their lives might have turned out. Short of driving to find him and bundling him into the back of my car, I can do no more to make him shift himself from whatever sofa he's currently on. Anyway, he's turned his back on what I am sure would have been something bordering on perfection. I am not shallow enough to be concerned in any way about his state of ill health. He says that friendship is all he can offer at the moment and that's not enough for me. Well, no actually, it isn't! He is hiding behind the wreckage of his marriage and insisting on being divorced, moved etc before embarking on anything else. 'Big', you are an emotional coward! The way you're behaving, you don't deserve the attention, let alone the love, of a woman like me! My paintings are not for sale to you, so don't come here with the excuse of buying one. The only reason for you to come here is to see me, and then I'd give you one, if you get my meaning!

Sunday, 19 April 2009

In which all the Nice Girls love sailing, but aren't quite sure about Sailors

I have discovered that I absolutely love sailing and what's more, and these are his words, 'you'll make a jolly good little sailor.' I was lucky enough to strike up a conversation with a lady from the sailing club as we were waiting for the water taxi. She instructed me in the best way to get on and off the boat. I was absolutely fine, especailly considering that her husband had pointed out that I had very short legs with which to get on C's boat which is apparently one of the most difficult models to climb in and out of.
There was a slight hitch when I climbed over the side to get off and I got my foot stuck so did involuntary splits with one leg in water taxi and one on boat. Luckily C got off after me so freed my foot. It wasn't scary or difficult in the least and I found the whole experience thrilling.
I took the helm for most of the day because C wanted to fiddle around checking various things and apparently am a natural sailor. Jolly good job, because it wasn't exactly a day out, more of a sailing masterclass.
I can't describe how utterly thrilling it is when the wind picks up, which it did, as we sailed out into Lyme Bay. Then, on the way back, I managed to get lots of photographs of the shore line in the sunshine which I can use to paint from for the placemat manufacturer.
We came back on the water taxi with the 'on-off instructress' who asked C how I'd got on and he sung my praises in the highest, looking at me all the time, with that twinkly look of his.
When we went home we sat in the garden drinking red wine and smoking, how thrilling, and it soon became apparent that I wouldn't be driving home.
By sheer chance I had previously ironed and packed my best jim jams and accidentaly left them and a change of clothes in the car! So, I cooked supper and he went off to the attic to search for some parts for the boat. We had a lovely supper, I changed into my best jim jams, stretched out on the sofa and we had some divine vodka liqueur and another bottle of wine. I was introduced, via miniatures on either side of the fireplace to many generations of ancestors in military uniform. He has several peers of the realm in the family and it was all rather interesting.
He sat in his chair by the roaring log fire, and even though I tried to tempt him, he didn't come and sit with me! But it wasn't embarrasing or awkward. I slept in the spare room and got up early, as usual, and came home. I left a note.
Even if I don't continue to see him, I am hooked on sailing!
So, there we are, I stay out all night and still don't get snogged!

Friday, 17 April 2009

In which 'Big' is a big lump of despair

Following two cryptic emails from C I was beside myself with worry. As usual, not only worried for him, but how it would affect me. I am pathetic and selfish. After fat club I called him and he explained everything to me. The upshot of it is that now I'm going over there tomorrow instead of Sunday. I was very upset about his news, more than I thought I'd be.
Then, another few from 'Big' who also seems to be in a bit of a state. He must care about me a bit otherwise he'd have just left things as they were. He doesn't see himself in any fit state to be a lifetime partner, or so he says. Well, I think I'll decide where my heart leads me and if he's got problems I can help. I must look like Florence bleedin' Nightingale, else why would I keep on attracting all these physical wrecks!
I have a new admirer who knows all about the others. He has dangled a lunch date in Barcelona in front of me. He emails and phones every day too. He still wants to meet me even if I begin something with one of others. Chance would be a fine thing! 'Big' is making himself unavailable and if C ever does anything other than kiss me on the cheek I shall flamin' well pass out. Anyway, look out, I'm packing me best jim jams just in case I accidentally drink too much vodka!
By the way - lost another six pounds - so now another one stone one pound lighter. Looking a bit desirable, even though I say so meself!

One's BF got slightly drunk in the back garden last night. We really ought to know how to behave by now!

Thursday, 16 April 2009

In which I am a selfish, shallow woman

I am hideous and selfish and don't deserve anyone to love me. All I've been thinking about is my own pathetic need to be noticed.
I've just had some bad news about someone I should have been giving more thought to. Instead, what have I been doing? Being selfish, boring and ridiculous and only thinking about my wants and needs.

Listen up! No one is to love me! I am vile and selfish and horrible.

I intend to turn over a new leaf and be a new lovely me.

Wednesday, 15 April 2009

in which something 'Big' appears on the horizon...

My emotions are all over the place. My judgement is not to be relied upon. There are, indeed, too many fish in the sea, and, let's face it, most of them look good enough to eat.
I don't think I'm going to get the kind of relationship I want from C. He is, as I've said, absolutely lovely, both to look at and be with, but do we have enough common ground, if any? I don't really think that we do. One rather large obstacle is religion, his seriousness and my lack of.
Another little potential problem has reared it's ugly, and it is this. Does one age on a dating website? If his daughters put him on there two, or more, years ago is he still the same age as when they did, or does the site update ages? Do I really want to go out with a man who can take advantage of 20% off day at B&Q?
Last week my lovely baby Z was working out how long I might live and how long I'd get to be with whoever it is who wins my heart, and gusset, of course. Now - do I want to throw my all in with someone who :-
a Might need looking after in a big way. No, not that kind of 'Big'
b Might not want to have sex
c Might not be ABLE to have sex
d Who might snuff it quite soon, maybe in the midst of said SEX
I realise sex is figuring quite highly on my radar at the moment. Well, I never did let the grass grow under me gusset, until now.
And, just to complicate matters a bit more, a big, soft, squashy email plopped into my inbox last night, from the one and only 'Big' There is only one 'Big'.
'Big' that makes me laugh.
'Big' that makes me cry.
'Big' that makes me long for him to be next to me rather than at the other end of the phone.
'Big' that really MUST be addressed, or indeed, undressed, before I can think clearly.
Incidentally, I have another week off work to organise my thoughts next week.
Who knows, something 'Big' could happen.

Monday, 13 April 2009

In which Gavin has nothing to worry his little head about...

Have just read a comment and NO Gavin NO. Martin Procter is my favourite artist. I was just miffed that the silly woman thought I'd been copying someone else's stuff. Hang it with pride and let me come and look at it!
By the way if anyone knows how to comment on a comment please let me know. I can't figure it out.

In which I get lots of kisses on the bottom...

Can't sleep and am currently resisting the urge to email C. So, dear blog, I shall bore you instead.
One of the most lovely things about today was just sitting together and not feeling the need to say anything. Well, when I say sitting together, he in an armchair and me carefully arranged on a sofa. He lolls magnificently, with his long legs streched out and when he put on his specs to read something he looked so seductive I almost fell off the sofa! He is doing an exceptional job of resisting me. I suppose it serves me right really in that I insisted on emailing and telephoning him for two months before we actually met and told him that I would need lots of time to get to know him slowly. How was I to know that he'd be so yummy?
I get lots of kisses on the bottom of my emails and on my cheeks, but thus far serious snogging would appear to be a no no.
I did take his arm as we were strolling along and that turned into us holding hands briefly. He has lovely hands.
I've never been a hand holder or a touchy feely person and have quite surprised myself. I don't usually even like sitting next to another person on the same sofa but I'm willing to make an exception for him.
He's all sort of twinkly when he looks at me and it's lovely. But, he is a vocal and impatient driver which surprised me.
I wonder what he thinks of me? He has told me that he rushes to his computer regularly to see if I've sent him a message, so that's good. Hopefully that means he doesn't just want us to be friends. I've got lots of friends. Now I need something else.
Given the things that have happened since I started this new venture I now know that I want the something else to be with him. He doesn't have baggage, he just has a lovely family who clearly want someone perfect for him. Will that someone be me? Let's find out!

In which I very nearly go sailing...

I went to see C today at his house and it was lovely. What an absolutely divine chap he is! I got lost and was a little bit late and he was wandering the high street looking for me. I can't begin to tell how fab that was after years of being ignored by vile husband.
We sat in the garden drinking coffee and chatting before lunch and then decided to go out on the boat. We'd been talking so much that we missed the water taxi and so abandoned the mission. I think he really just wanted me to got out for the first time on his boat and not on BF's. There was a bit of hand holding on the beach but no snogging at all. BF thinks it's a third date thing. She thinks he's been briefed by a daughter or two on the etiquette of these things. Anyhow, I shall be going again this week at least once, so we shall see. He is absolutely exquisite! A really beautiful man in every way, but maybe too old for me. But, considering I thought BF's chap was her dad, I suppose it's only fair!
Had phone call from prospective new first reserve. No chance.
Big has gone. Perhaps taken fright at the prospect of coming here, perhaps taken offence at my blog. Who knows? Probably for the best and has given me the time to really see how lovely Chris is.

Saturday, 11 April 2009

In which BF and me need coffee and fags

Following the boredom and dissatisfaction of Friday, me and BF decided to go out taking reference photos for my paintings. Well that was the plan. We got side tracked by what was laughingly called an 'Art and Craft sale' in the Community Centre. The whole thing was obviously masterminded by the Pickled Egg Mafia, who were there in force, flogging some simply divine hand knitted cardis for the 'fuller figure', a selection of shitty pictures and the usual tatt and crap that I'd put in next door's dustbin! The Spikey Pikey was there with her 'hand made' huh! jewellery that SOOOO belongs in a Community Centre market. Revolting crystals dangling on microscopic chains that are too short to go around a human neck. Just because she's an emaciated, horse faced bint, it doesn't mean everyone else is! AND, dousing crystals. What the hell are they for? Does she dangle them over her gusset to ascertain whether her Tena Lady pants will hold any more moisture? I'm pretty sure she must be bulimic. Otherwise how on earth would one explain the teeth, the bulging eyes and the body of a three week old corpse! Those teeth look as if they've come into regular contact with food going the wrong way and copious quantities of corrosive stomach acid.
After that we met AS and her husband. She was revoltingly rude about one of my new paintings, the bitch! 'Oh, B was going to buy it until R said it looked like a Martin Procter painting', says she. 'Well if he wants it he's better get a move on', says I, 'Someone's just offered me a thousand pounds for it'. I could have pushed her smug old wrinkly face in, I really could.
We went back to the pub for a coffee and some fags in the garden then and went all pink in the sunshine.
No photographs were taken all day, but we had a good moan and gossip and both felt a lot better for it!

Friday, 10 April 2009

in which I am convinced 'Big' is toying with me...

Well, here I am again, at 2.20am, having gone to bed at 11.00pm and just awoken with the blogging urge.
I am not happy. I've just spent the most boring day doing nothing at all. I can't be bothered to paint, I'm always working! When I entered into the internet dating market I didn't expect to be spending time fitting in with other people's lives to this extent. I was rather hoping that by now, a couple of months into it, I'd be getting some of the attention that has been sadly lacking in my life. I didn't expect it to turn immediately into some kind of adolescent shagfest, but this is getting rather dull. OK, so I've had a snogfest in a car park with an army bloke, who incidentally has disappeared into the ether. Maybe he's tap danced off with the estranged vicar. I'd forgotten about him til BF asked what had become of him. I suppose the two hour drive to get here is deemed too much when all he gets is a snog and a fumble with me anorak zip. I didn't want to see him again. He was just a practise date to get in the mood for Boat and Big.
I have had a date with Boat, last Sunday, for lunch. All was fine. I think I was a little hasty in my initial summing up of his chances. He has apologised profusely for having made arrangements for Easter with his daughters long before he'd met me. But, having said that, he's got four grown up daughters, all with families. Will he be able to spend the time with me that I want? He has asked me down on Monday and suggested we lunch on the boat. I don't really want to do that yet. Nice weather will render that a more attractive option. Anyhow, I don't know what to expect. Apparently one has to be delivered to said boat in a water taxi, whatever that is. I don't like the sound of it. It would appear one is taken to the side of the boat by the water taxi and then expected to climb aboard. Climb aboard! Imagine the scene. He goes first, then offers a helping arm to haul me up the ladder. Dislocated shoulders, I should imagine. Or, I go first, offering him a birds eye, close up, in yer face, view of my arse. Why can't he park the bloody thing and let me get on it from dry land? It's not the 'being on it' it's the getting on and off it with an audience I don't like the thought of. And there's the added possibility of me barfing up me lunch all over him. We haven't even snogged yet and that's not going to happen with me with me head over the side, offering yet another view of my arse.
If I hadn't met Big I would probably been quite taken with Boat. But, Big is an unknown quantity, and from what I can gather, a large, unknown quantity. He is not paying me enough attention though. Three measly emails today and no phone call. And, I've lost all this weight! There'll be nothing left of me to get 'old of if he doesn't get a move on. Speaking of which, where does all the fat one's lost go? There's probably a great big wobbly lunp of it out in a black hole somewhere. Well, I'm going to save up my bit and have it fashioned into a seven teired wedding cake. Covered with chocolate icing, of course. Because I intend to be slim for about twenty minutes. I shall pork up at the wedding reception.
I have taken the advice on the dating website and nominated more favourites. Their advice is to just go for all the ones that look like you might fancy them. Frankly, I'd be happy with someone with a job and a pulse.
Anyhow, the upshot of that is that I have now nominated sixty seven favourites. Loads of them have viewed my profile and a pathetic 'one' has contacted me.
There's a lovely one in Cornwall, who looks like Ian Anderson, Jethro Tull. No, not the one who invented the seed drill.
Big says he's coming here next week, but now he's got the hump because I've asked if I can use our emails when I publish the blog.
Big, I am hungry for attention. Well, actually, I'm hungry for anything at the moment, since I've been starving meself.
I think the minute Big's estranged wife gets a whiff of another interested woman, she's going to want a reconciliation. And, further more, I think that's what Big wants, deep down, too.

Wednesday, 8 April 2009

In which I write an open letter to 'Big'

Let me set the scene...
I have been in a loveless marriage, and indeed relationship, for almost twenty years. I've been with a man who has no lust for me, or life, or anything. I very foolishly settled for it and thought that's what my life would be. Then, one day, I woke up and realised it didn't have to be like that. Really it was all because of a couple of women at work. One had met someone through an ad in the newspaper and the other, from the internet. They are both a few years younger than me, but not much, so I began to think that there may be someone out there for me...

I offer up to you the most spectacular failure of a marriage - my husband took the photograph of me that I put on the dating website!

I 'met' a really nice chap on my first venture into the unknown. We have been corresponding for more than two months and have subsequently met, and get on very well. However, a couple of weeks down the line, I had an email from 'Big' who thought that my son's description of my photograph as that of a 'serial killer' very funny. I emailed back to say that I thought I looked like seven of nine's mum, he said that was good since he looked like a Klingon. (Star Trek refs) And that began what has been the most unusual and intense relationship, possibly of my whole life.

My darling 'Big',
We have to meet now, don't we? All these late night calls are playing havoc with our sleep patterns. Can there be anything real for us? Or is the delicious anticipation and distance between us the fascination? We need to find out and we need to find out now.
I have often imagined us meeting for the first time. Will I fling myself into your arms, leap up and wrap my legs round you, thereby body slamming you to the ground and rendering you unconcious? Or will I go all pink and quivery and wish I'd invested in some Tena Lady pants? Will you get all tongue tied and blush? Or will you grab me by the shoulders in manner of Stanley (Streetcar Named Desire) and snog the enamel off me teeth? Before, of course, scooping me into your manly grasp and carrying me into the flat. By the way, it's downstairs so momentum should assist you as you struggle for breath and fling me onto the bed.
NB wear hernia belt.
We could, of course, simply dissolve into laughter, which is how we spend a great deal of our time already. And, as you know, a man who makes me laugh has me thumbs gravitating toward me knicker elastic!
Will you take one look at me and think 'Flamin' Norah, she's built like a brick shit house' There will, of course, be positive advantages for you ie; me taking out the rubbish, digging the garden, lifting up the 4x4 to facilitate you changing a wheel etc.
You could look at me and see a vulnerable middle aged woman who's got quite a past behind her, but who is the person you want to be with until we both die. I could look at you and see a clapped out, arthiritic old misery guts and think, 'Flippin' 'eck I got here just in time'.
I sometimes feel that you have agreed we meet in order for me to get you out of my system. I'm sure you're telling yourself that this can't be happening and must just be a silly daydream. Deep down you know that's not so. You want it too. Otherwise you could have quite easily just disappeared out of my life. I've never asked for your telephone number so that you could do just that if you wanted to.
But you and I are the same. I just seem to have developed emotional tourettes in me old age!
Wouldn't it be wonderful if it worked out? It doesn't make anything that's gone before any less important, it just makes it over.
Imagine how lovely it would be to love and be loved and not ask for much more. There isn't any more is there?
Whatever happens, we won't forget this in a hurry will we?
yours in eager anticipation
C

Tuesday, 7 April 2009

in which I am a 'Prune in Primark'

This is it! 'Big' and me are to meet next week and spend the day together. He pointed out loudly last night, that he's not staying the night. I can't think why he's so apprehensive. Must be this blog, methinks!
I have been blogging all kinds of inappropriate things about someone I've never met. It's not possible to actually 'love' a complete stranger. What I should have said was, I love what he says, how he says it, all our intimate late night giggles and the anticipation of his emails and calls. There now, 'Big', you see I am an adult after all.
Last night 'Big' said he thinks I'm a bit mad, in a nice way. I expect it's my artistic temperament that makes me bonkers. BF says it's me hormones and me age.
Moving on... Last night I had the most dreadful cramp in my left leg. I couldn't stand for ages. And, I had to keep getting up for a wee because I've now got an additional drug in the form of a diuretic to take.
I shall have shrivelled up to such an extent, from weeing, that next week I shall resemble a 'Prune in Prada' Well alright, an actual 'Prune in Primark', but Prada sounds better, doesn't it.
Going back to 'Big' and me. I also don't want to hurt 'Boat' who is a lovely man. If 'Big' and me click I shall step away from all this. If we don't... I can't think about that right now, I'll keep you posted.

in which a 'Boat' in the hand is worth more than a 'Big' in the bush

Well, I may have been a little hasty in my judgement of 'Boat'. After all, if I hadn't encountered 'Big' I should have thought all my Christmases had come at once. How typical that I should embark upon the quest for hubbster numero duo and then be completely thrown by a rank outsider.
'Boat' is so attentive, always emailing and phoning and even interested in Edward. He even brought an Easter egg with him on Sunday for Ed. He isn't going to be available this weekend, either sailing with a friend from the club or being visited by daughters. He has asked me to go down to his place next week. I have planned to paint for one of my weeks off and then just do as I please for the other. He was most apologetic that the daughters were going to be taking up all of the Easter weekend and said that it had all been arranged before he'd met me and that now they were going to have to be told that he has other things to occupy his time.
What I'd really like is for 'Big' to meet me so that we can see just how perfect that meeting of lips would be. I need to get my hands on him. Speaking on the phone isn't enough. I don't see why he wants to wait until his divorce is finalised. After all, I'm still married. Speaking of which I had a sideways glance from Shirley this morning who told me to get that sorted out. She has a point. I can hardly berate 'Big' for his lack of action when I'm still married to Vile Husband. He's obviously been here today. Food eaten, mess in the kitchen, washing up left for me. It's like he never left. He actually had an interview yesterday which went well. I hope he gets the flamin' job, I'm penniless.
Vile husband even turned upnwith Wardo for a scoff just after 'Boat' had left on Sunday. The girls at work think I'm insane, but I'm sure he'd starve if it wasn't for me. I am going to stop feeding him now though. If Edward wants to see him he can go round there now my gusset is coming out of retirement. I bet it wouldn't put him off eating my scoff if the headboard of my bed was banging against the wall behind him!
At some point I shall have to peel off the power panty spanx and actually HAVE SEX. Sex, I can't remember what it's like. I have a vague recollection of liking it and doing it a lot, then I got married. I have, of course, been boarded up by the council through lack of use, so have team of workmen booked in next week remove boards. I think I can remember how to do it.
It'll be the getting off of the kit that is a problem. If I'm wearing the spanx I shall have to remember to issue interested parties with a flick knife to cut them off and strategically place a cushion for them to fall onto when I'm unleashed from me lycra constraints!
What's it going to be like peeling off the layers of a new man? If it's 'Boat' it should be interesting, I think he's got shreddies that are older than me.
If it's 'Big' I'll be able to rip his kit off with me teeth, from here, if I have to!!

Sunday, 5 April 2009

In which I attempt to make 'Big's' string vest curl up

OK, went to bed after last blog in fit of extreme exhaustion. Now am feeling completely lucid and can ponder subject in manner of Professor of Loveologly. What the whole thing boiled down to is that I was petrified that he wouldn't find me attractive. I shouldn't have worried about that, he obviously did. I was viewing the situation as an 'end' rather than a beginning. After all the long telephone conversations and emails it sort of seemed a logical conclusion to me that after he'd actually met me, that would be it as far as he was concerned. It's so silly because I don't have a low opinion of myself or what I look like. Quite the reverse in fact, so why am I always so surprised when someone finds me attractive and wants to spend time in my company? He phoned me, as I said, as soon as he got home, but I couldn't really talk since Vile husband had just come in with Edward. I did give him a quick call later and he apologised for being so nervous. Nervous! In my company! It didn't even occur to me that he would be nervous. I should have given a little more thought to his feelings instead of just thinking of my own.
Couldn't reply to the last two of 'Big's' emails as practically passed out rather than just fell asleep. I'd like my nocturnal chat with 'Big' now, but I expect he's pushing out the zeds.
'Boat' is cultured, educated and interesting.
'Big', however, is a much more emotional and complicated person. Just like me, in fact. I like 'Boat' in an uncley sort of way. I love 'Big' in a grab it, snog it, shag it sort of way! If that doesn't make yer string vest curl up, nothing will!

In which I am drained

Well, he came for lunch and it was fine. He was very probably one of the most handsome men I've ever laid eyes on. Tall, steely grey hair, twinkly eyes, and the most beautiful hands with long tapering fingers. The conversation flowed without any embarrassing pauses. I was exactly as he's imagined, he said. Lunch was perfect, strawberries and cream on the patio in the sunshine. Who could ask for more? I could. If I had been able to stick to my plan of finding husband no 2, all would have been fine. But then along came 'Big'. I struck gold on my first hit with 'Boat'. That is just the epitome of my car crash life. Either that or I am completely mad. I could fall effortlessly into a whole new world, but I don't want to. I can't help wondering what someone like him could see in someone like me. There must be any number of women out there from his background who'd leap at the chance of spending time with him. So why me?
I feel drained and didn't realise how stressful I'd find it. Now he wants me to go to his house for supper. How would I drive home after being fed wine etc. Then there's the offer of sailing off into the sunset. But then, maybe I'm his 'Big' so to speak. Who can say what sets the heart a flutter?
He called as soon as he got home to ask me to see him again.

In which 'Life on the Ocean wave' is farted

Have woken up all dewy eyed this morning. Not sure if am over emotional or have a cold.
Edward has been being particularly helpful by attempting to fart the tune of 'Life on the Ocean Wave'. Had temerity to complain when I asked him to stop. 'When did you get so sophisticated?' he asked, 'Oh, yeah, as soon as there's a man around'. Poor Edward is suffering from imaginary visions of me with a chap. I've told him not to think about it, but he said he can't help wondering what 'Big' and I are giggling about for two hours at a time.
I'm sure Boat's going to be a nice chap, but he could be 'Mr Nice' from Nice City and I'd still swap him for 'Big' in his string vest.
There is a child in the flat above who seems intent on running back and forth all morning. That's not adding to my gloomy mood at all. I should be looking forward to meeting 'Boat' after chatting to him for all this time, but, well, I'm not and that's that!
The lamb smells funny, Delia didn't say anything about that.
Saw Jo Henry this morning, she was on her way to get bacon as she's on a 'Red' day. We were sympathising with one another that we could both lose an entire Tina Beale and still be chubby.
Hey Ho, pass me fags.

Friday, 3 April 2009

in which I will wear H2O (Husband no 2 interview outfit)

Well, I've taken the plunge and invited 'Boat' here for lunch on Sunday. Much nicer than some anonymous pub somewhere, and anyway I'll be able to walk around barefoot instead of suffering in me pink ballet pumps. In the rush to get ready last Saturday I walked into the metal box under the bed that I keep all my frames in and have bashed little toe rather badly. Poor toe now looks like aubergine with painted shell stuck to it! Have been wearing mini uggs all week at work, but fear would look rather strange with H2O. (Husband no 2 interview outfit)
BF has provided posh table linen and any associated extras I don't already have. Have been forced to buy new crockery, cutlery etc since miserable old tat I currently have won't make a good impression.
Lovely white china to go with Blue and White, crystal glasses, lamb, strawberries etc Found a lovely old crystal and silver sugar shaker in Wivey yesterday.
The weather forecast looks good so perhaps coffee on the patio?
He phoned me during the day yesterday but then so did 'Big'. What's all that about? With 'Boat' I expect he just wanted to talk to me about his day and ask about mine. With 'Big' I don't know. He has issues and needs to get them addressed!
Last Saturday's squeeze has removed himself from the website too! Is this another case of satisfaction or complete laziness? Anyway, I shan't be seeing him again. Way too much baggage that he feels compelled to tell me about.
Incidentally, a 'Bigger' has appeared on the horizon. It's all so delicious and thrilling.
'Big' is still best, but is just not around.

Thursday, 2 April 2009

Me and me fat mates go to Slimming World

Me and my fat mates all joined up with Slimming World last evening. I have already lost quite a bit of what I'd put back on, but nevertheless we formed a small ugly crowd!
How is it that one day, one is a lovely young, slim thing, and the next, one is a biffer. Am furiously cycling my way to fitness so that I don't look like I'm wearing a pink shell suit when naked. Face has got a lot slimmer in the past couple of months, cheekbones have appeared and everything! I hope I don't get one of those horrible scraggey necks though.
New outfit for the interviewing of husband number two will only last a month at the rate I'm losing weight. Strides plummeting again so must have gone down another size. Mind you though, Saturday night's squeeze said 'Oh you're lovely, you are' as he attemped to grab me. Lucky me anorak was double zipped, that's all I can say!
There were twenty one ladies at the SW meeting all sitting in a circle. Why do they put those silly little seats so close together? You'd think at a slimming class the daft bint would have allowed for the arse overhang spillage and left a couple of inches between them.
'You might like to pass this ball of string round and ask the person next to you to cut a piece to your waist size so that you can measure how many inches you lose by next week'
Yeah, right! She might like to poke herself repeatedly in the eye with the corkscrew on me swiss army knife!
'Boat' phoned me to give me his mobile number in case I 'needed him.' He really is the most thoughtful man. I almost feel guilty about the thoughts I'm harbouring about 'Big'.

Wednesday, 1 April 2009

in which the snog blog awakens Big

Ha Ha! The snog blog lured 'Big' back from the brink. I can't for the life of me understand how he didn't realise I'd be worried about his absence. I try to understand how he feels but I would just walk away, in fact I did. Money means nothing to me. I was rather annoyed after trawling the internet searching for news of his untimely demise, but after one 'hello' I was won over.
I used to laugh at people who talked about having a soulmate, but I really think that's what 'Big' is for me. I know it sounds a little incestuous, but it's as though we were separated at birth. Of course I shan't even meet him until his present predicament is thoroughly sorted to his satisfaction, and mine for that matter, but even if it was when we were really old in manner of Mr and Mrs Merlin, I dare say I should give him a good seeing to! I do know you're reading this.
In the meantime I shall amuse myself with all manner of desperate old codgers that appear to be lining up to entertain me.
Vile husband was at work today to do a 'Manual Handling' course. That limp wristed tart couldn't even manually handle 'special needs pussy'.
'Big' I know you're reading this, so just ponder on me pinging the elastic in your greying y fronts and seductively poking me fingers through the holes in your string vest. Wearing my Marigolds obviously. Just don't leave it too long or the rubber gloves may perish.