I see you stumble......

I am going to have to start another, anonymous blog where I can actually say what happened this weekend. Belle Du Jour I am not, but I am teetering on the brink of becoming a bit of a lady of the night of late. And I am loving it. It all started off innocently as ever and then inevitably spiralled into a hedonistic twirl of tongues, mod haircuts and my old school uniform. And I will never see Thomas the Tank Engine in the same light again. Oh my lord. Hormones have a lot to answer for. And lager.....
I am listening to far too much local radio at present, since the ex gained custody of the digital radio. Gone are the days of listening to the fantastic and ever-tasteful 6 Music. Now I spend most of my days having to be subjected to '80s Hour' or just soppy chart singles by the likes of Duffy and Rhianna. Bros's 'I owe you nothing' is on now tinkling in the background as I am about to do a marathon session on The Book. This is not good. My creativity will be completely pissed upon by those Goss brothers. I'm off to put on a John Peel compilation and get on with some proper writing......

Fishfinger sandwiches, facepacks and froot!

I have just spent the majority of this week with one of the best human beings on the planet: Miss Lucy Bullen (or The Bullencia as I have always preferred to call her). She is a sparkling star in a sky of mere twinkles and it has been a pleasure having her to stay and to show her around the quirkiness of Brighton town. We supped enough pints of Harveys local brew to sink a posh yacht in the Marina, ate fishfinger sandwiches at Bills, wore chocolate flavoured facepacks so we looked like pigs in poo, and giggled like sun-crazed indie chicks over the course of 48 hours. I cannot wait for her monthly postings of burnt CDs of her favourite music. It's about time I rekindled my indie roots a little more. I am getting far to into mainstream pop these days....And I am now off to Sheffield for my 31st to hang out with her and her gang of young, guitar-playing friends. I will be back to the old Cathy in no time....

And now, having waved The Bullencia off back to the home of Kendal mint cake at the train station yesterday, I am back to planet earth with a bump as I spent an hour last night bent over the bath, sifting nits out of Sadie's hair. Oh the glamour of parenting. But it's all part of the fun, and Sadie's hair has never looked so shiny and detangled! Poor little lamb. She has a stripe across her face too from running through a thorn bush. She looks like a mini version of Adam Ant only with a glossy bob

Soundtrack: New Royal Family- Anyone fancy a chocolate digestive?

Weddings, waxworks and vampires.....

Well after Friday's nightmare of a date (that turned out to be only marginally less scary than the hideousness that was the dark stinking freaky waxwork Robin Hood museum in Nottingham yesterday) this weekend was one of the fluffiest in a long while. Joy and Geoff tied the knot in Nottingham's picturesque Holme Pierrepont Hall on Sunday afternoon. Sadie was their bridesmaid, which in itself was enough to open the floodgates for a soppy lush like me, but the ceremony had me in tears. I was one of those annoying wedding guests who keeps sniffing loudly with my shoulders jittering, like a dried up old maid who can only experience true love vicariously through her couple friends. Nah- I'm not that bad- I am just a sucker for romance and Philip Larkin poems. And Joy and Geoff are so cute together. They really are meant to be, god love em....
The best man's speech made me think I was living in a chick flick again. For a split second I thought I was hearing things when he decided to announce to everyone at the end of the speech that he and another of the best men (there were four incidentally) rather like me. And then he sat down. This was how he ended the speech. After going bright purple from embarrassment (my best friend Jo who had been sat next to me gaffawed so loudly she had also gone red), I glugged back some champagne and went and thanked him for this information. We have decided amongst the three of us that rather than begin some sort of weird love triangle, I will share them both intermittently as and when it suits. The best man did suggest daily commutes down from Nottingham to Brighton but I think he was being a little unrealistic (and probably a little drunk). Oh what fun. And hark at me- I'll get a big fat head at this rate!
Sadie and I then had an hour to kill before our train back home yesterday so I thought I'd take her on an educational visit to the Robin Hood museum. After entering it became obvious we were the only visitors (it was a Monday morning). I now know why. It all started off great as a very handsome man dressed as Robin Hood came a chatted to us, and, having tried to unsuccessfully entice Sadie from her shy, finger-biting stance, led us into a pitch black room where loud male voices boomed around us. At this point Sadie started screaming and I wondered whether we would actually ever come out alive. Then it got even worse. A door opened into a dark, pretend cavern, and we entered to find 6 creepy waxworks in loin cloths standing staring at us. We couldn't get out until the automated doors opened for us and to be honest I was absolutely bloody petrified. I actually thought Sadie might pass out she was shaking and crying so much. This went on from room to room for about 45 minutes, until we exited completely shell shocked and feeling as though we had just surfaced from the fires of hell. What this hammer house of horrors taught us about Robin Hood I will never know. Sadie will now think that Sherwood Forest is a torture chamber. But at least, as opposed to my date with Ginge, I didn't end up with gigantic teeth marks on my right buttock and a love bite in the middle of my cleavage. I kid ye not. I was almost eaten alive.

Soundtrack: Gabriella Cilmi -Sweet About Me

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..)