Ten thousand nights of chunder

Still in an internet cafe which is never the same as freely typing away in my "office" ( a rather more glamorous name for the corner of my bedroom) listening to indie pop, and I have been feeling guilty about posting at work. I have managed to persuade Sadie to have a bobbed haircut and I am so chuffed- she looks absolutely adorable and just like Amelie when she was a little girl at the beginning of said film. And speaking of French things, on the way home today I cycled past the French market, which often frequents the Hove lawns at this time of year. I was ravenous from pushing those pedals against the wind so when I spied the freshly made baguettes and the pain au chocolats I had to pootle over there to grab myself some much needed carbs(even though the wind barely let me and I nearly fell off my bike). It was really silly though as the woman serving at le boucherie was French so I thought I should talk to her in a really crap half-french, half-english way and the conversation went something like this...
Me: 'Hello. Bonjour. Could I have one of those baguettes please, s'il vous plait'
Her: 'Ca? Oui...'
Me: (being passed the baguette)' Thanks. Merci Beaucoup. Thanks yes. And could I have a carrier bag please. S'il vous plait. Merci beaucoup. Thanks'
Oh dearie me.
Off out with my ginger nightmare tonight. Spoke to him on the phone last night to arrange where to meet him and all he said was 'Yeah' in a halfhearted way to everything I said. I have concluded that he was a)feeling shy and overcome with nerves that such a fox was ringing him and couldn't think of anything to say, b)has nothing to say or c) had a naked lady lying next to him and couldn't muster up the words "yes that would be really nice to meet you. Would you like me to take you to dinner? Yes? Can't wait. Bye" without being smacked in the face. I basically had to force feed him the idea of me....and him...in a pub....at 7.30pm...- was that ok? "Yeah".
God help me......

Soundtrack: Alphabeat- 10,000 nights

Sunny D makes you pee and late nights give you a fat neck obviously

My boss has told me to stay at home today as I have a fat neck from swollen glands, and look exhausted. I have been enjoying going to work more than being at home of late as it gets me out of the house. I have coped well. Had a free breakfast on the seafront with Rachel and Fraser and have then spent the rest of the day lying on the sofa eating home made chicken noodle soup (recipe to follow when I'm not in an internet cafe)and watching the wondrous Juno: one of the best films I have seen in a long time. I realised I hadn't even previously mentioned going to see the Sex and the City movie the other week, but this kind of film just sort of washes over you. I loved SATC but Juno is a stayer, really funny and sad, and what a fab soundtrack. I had the seven inch of the Moldy Peaches 'Anyone Else But You' years ago and am glad it's finally being recognised as a beautiful tune.
I have also been drifting in an out of sleep in a delirious manner. Hope I will be normal by Sunday as it's Joy and Geoff's wedding day. If you are reading this youse two lovelies- hello! only 3 days to go!!! You are the Juno and Bleeker of the hour (but without the car crash irresponsible behaviour and bad shorts) x

A post at 4am: Magnetic Feet Go Warm Turkey

You may believe, dear readers, that I have been coping with the meltdown of my relationship to the father of my child remarkably well in the last couple of months. I thought so too, but now I understand otherwise. I am happy to have come to the decision, but in the meantime I have been hiding my pain and grief behind a candyfloss smokescreen of regular alcohol consumption, casual sex and naked swimming (when my off-duty-from-motherhood hours permit me to do so of course…). Once you eliminate these hedonistic past times from the equation, and discounting the healing time I have spent with friends, I am actually pretty darn miserable.
Don’t get me wrong- I am enjoying myself much more that I had envisaged. I imagined I’d be walking around with grey looking skin, having lost loads of weight and wearing a variety of black outfits for the next 12 months, like some sort of bereaving widow. As it is I am actually able to have lots of fun (and have put ON weight), particularly on the man front which has been a most pleasant surprise (did I mention internet dating? An exaggerating friend of mine said I hardly need to bother with cyber encounters as at the moment it seems all I have to do is step out of my front door and the men start forming a small queue- she said it’s almost like I’ve got man magnets in my shoes! Poor deluded cow..).
No- it’s more the habit of anaesthetising myself that worries me most. It’s ironic to me that I ended a relationship that was bad for my health, only to get more heavily involved in another toxic love affair. It is time to face the pain without numbing it as it won’t go away that easily, which is why I have decided to attempt to seriously cut down on the booze (and not go cold turkey as this would be like ripping a dummy from a baby’s mouth), despite having a wedding reception this weekend and my impending ‘Champagne and Bling’ party in a few weeks (‘Elderflower Cordial and Bling’ party doesn’t sound quite as much fun…..).
As for casual sex and mini love affairs; I’m just going to ride (fnar) that one out for a little while longer. It is giving me a healthy taster of things to come, and at least I will be now having sober, casual sex. Naked swimming has served it’s nipple-freezing cathartic liberating purpose but I will be sticking to my polka-dot bikini from now on.
It is time to try and start again properly this time. My therapist left me with a very poignant quote to ponder on yesterday:
“If you always do what you did
You will always get what you got”
Here’s to trying to change the habits of a lifetime………

Bicycles, near death and camembert breakfasts

It's the beginning of National Bike Week today and I am looking forward to my prize for being someone who cycles to work, of a free breakfast at the Meeting Place cafe on the seafront in Hove this Thursday from 7.30-10am. You just turn up with your bike and claim some food. There are a few of these going on this week, so even if you don't cycle much, borrow or steal a friends' bike and go and get your free fry up! Mind you- the Meeting Place cafe is an amazing location, but awful food, so it's not that great a gift for being carbonless and fit. Here they somehow manage to make everything taste and smell vaguely of cheese. And this is no good at all, especially if you're eating a bacon sarnie.
Sadie wanted to join in with NBW too and insisted on cycling up the hill to school today wearing her daddy's medal from the London to Brighton bike ride yesterday. It took us 15 minutes to get to school as opposed to 5 and she whinged all the way, but she did her bit and I am proud.
Have had a bit of a tiring weekend, but marvellous all the same. Friday night was slutty night, where a group of us girls dressed up in our sauciest outfits and hit the town (god I really am behaving like a singleton). In inevitable sods law fashion, I only got attention from roofers who looked like Phil Mitchell, or 12 year olds wearing suits who thought I looked like I was up for it (I was of course- but not with underage accountants). I'll be sticking to jeans, a t-shirt and heels next time as this always works wonders. There's nothing worse than looking like you're advertising yourself for the cover of Nuts magazine. And I do tend to look a bit uncomfortable in a first-time-out-of-the-closet-transvestite-like way. It's just not me....but fun was had nevertheless, despite being so drunk at one point that I nearly fell out of a window. Ho hum. I am alive so let's just live and learn(lesson being not to just walk up to big windows in 9th floor appartments after 4 hours of drinking as they might well be open).
Saturday was the lovely Joy's hen night. We ate scrummy food in Food For Friends (always a winner) and then headed to Northern Lights restaurant for a private do (where I appear to have bagged myself a ginger admirer- remember the other blog recently? It just goes to show- be careful what you wish for...) and then onto the Funky Fish where we strutted our stuff to northern soul classics and drank to Joy's impending future as Mrs Westby. And incidentally I'm meeting up with the ginger cave man this week for a date (he's redheaded in a Shaun Slater-esque way rather than a Bradley Branning sort of way so there is hope for the species after all..)

Friday 13th and tiara celebrations

I've just arranged to have a 'Champagne and Bling' party (thanks to my pharmacist doppelganger for the suggestion- she needs an excuse to drink champers and wear her wedding tiara again so I thought I'd oblige) at mine in a month's time. I've been meaning to have a gathering since becoming single, but felt a pang of guilt at the idea of celebrating my new found freedom. That is until My Ex had an all night party last week of his own. So now I have changed my mind and am inviting friends over for some drunken,dancing-around-the-living-room antics.
The interest in Sign Shop Man has resurfaced. My daily trips to the internet cafe opposite the Sign Shop have meant I can now catch his eye as I exit from my emailing spree. I think I am going to ask him out, but the question is... HOW??? And... AM I MAD?
I could just walk in there and ask him, but this would be a)embarrassing and b)out of context. What am I supposed to say? That I need a sign and can he give me one? (a la 'Baby Hit Me One More Time'?). No no no.. this needs more thought. Doppelganger thinks I should write him a note with my number on it and go in, say hi (blush like a radish) and hand it to him. Readers- I need your help on this one... Do I go for it, or I do I leave him in his cosy bubble in the Sign Shop where I can just strut past from time to time and get an ego boosting glance my way, never speaking to him and never risking making a total arse of myself?? It is Friday 13th after all and this would be a time doused in ironic bad vibes, when a gargantuan arse is be likely to be made.

Soundtrack: Mystery Jets-Two Doors Down

A technophobe talks from the heart

Quite a few of my single friends keep insisting I should try internet dating. This rather cold way of meeting people has never really appealed, but as a single mum who doesn't get out as much as she'd like, perhaps I should give it a go. I'm quite old fashioned in many ways- I only learnt how to use a microwave this year, and have only had a mobile phone for 2 months. I survived quite happily without a mobile throughout my twenties, and now, although a useful means of communication, it has become the bane of my life. I am forever checking it to see if I have any messages from any of my men of the sea, and my entire mood can be swayed by either the gleeful arrival of an ego massaging text from someone of the opposite sex or, as on most days, a depressingly empty inbox gathering cobwebs. My worry is that entering into cyber flirtations will only exacerbate this problem. I am clearly in need of some attention, after opening Pandora's box of man folk recently and having a taster session. Rather than move from the starter to the main course, I'd quite like to tuck into the eat-as-much-as-you-like buffet for a little while longer, if you catch my drift.
Yesterday I began entering my details on a dating site, only to get so frustrated half way through that I closed the whole thing down. I'm not very good at summing myself up in an appealing manner. And I am certainly not photogenic. How on earth is any man going to have any idea about me from a webpage profile? I will just be filtered through their scouring as they read I am a ginger single mum who is quite poor, drinks too much and likes mashed potato and Woody Allen films.

Soundtrack: The Ting Tings- That's not my name

Oh I do like to be beside the seaside....beside someone else....

Living by the sea at this time of year is brilliant. Last night a mum friend and I took our girls to the beach for our dinner. We headed off about 5pm as it was too scorchio before this to venture out without melting, and went and found ourselves a spot right next to the water. I brought freshly roasted lemon chicken, potato salad and a bottle of chilled rose. My friend bought avocado and watermelon and we tucked in. As we chatted whilst sunbathing in our bikinis (well- she forgot hers so she just sat there in her lacy undies), the nudey girls played by the water, running in bravely as the tide went out and screaming loudly as the waves chased them back to the beach. I had a quick swim in the surprisingly clear waters and we got home around 7.30pm in time to tuck the girls up in bed, ready for school the next morning. How ace is this a way to spend an evening with your child? I am one lucky woman. I live so close to the beach that it is practically my back garden.
Now that the weather is so amazing I have also got into the wonderful habit of cycling to and from work. As I live and work close to the seafront (am I annoying you yet?) I get to cycle all the way along the promenade to work, with the sea to my right and the traffic jams of carbon spurters to my left. I now manage the journey in 10 minutes, as opposed to half an hour on the bus. My legs are already starting to change shape after 3 weeks of whizzing along. This is all good.
However, I have no one to show off my newly toned legs too. After May's fruitiness June is turning into a man drought. I knew I shouldn't have bought those condoms. Every time I optimistically buy a packet of them, I get to use one and then the rest sit around in my bathroom cabinet festering in their spermicidical juices, only to be out of date the next time I happen to need one. I once wrote an article entitled 'The Jinx of the Johnny' for a website about this problem. Many women commented that they have exactly the same experience. They don't tell you this in sex education classes- it's all very well teaching children about safe sex, but they should also inform us that buying condoms will always lead to safe sex as it will ensure you never have nookie again.
Mind you- this Friday night I'm out with the girls for a cocktail night. I am wearing my red mini dress and fishnets and if I don't get any action wearing this ensemble I will give up forever......

Soundtrack: Kinks- Lazing on a sunny afternoon