I think my ex is a woman

This is something I've recently come to realize. See, I never understood my friends' frustrations over "men!", how they complained about how hard they were to understand, how they never understood women and generally were weird creatures from another planet. We had the same habits around the house, agreed where to put things and what sofas were nice, shared views on most major and minor issues and could go to IKEA without a major bust-up. It left me puzzled, though, when the passion died on us, but now I think I'm getting it. After having been with Spikey for about 14 months, I think I'm ready to join the club. Spikey is a man. He likes to cook, and does it a lot (I'm slowly becoming obsolete in that department), and he himself believes that he's great at cleaning up afterwards... Now, I don't want to moan, but it takes more than tossing the pans into the dishwaser and throwing out the potato skins. For instance, for some strange reason, after he cooks, the cupboards and walls need wiping, the fridge door and the fridge interior(!) as well. The floor needs sweeping and mopping. And the whole kitchen needs rearranging. I'll find the knives sticking up from the jar by the stove. And the ladles and whisker in the cutlery drawer (a friend of mine has a similar problem - her boyfriend just puts everything in the drawer. The same drawer. And when he proudly announces thad he's done the tidying up, she'll secretly spend more time tidying up after his tidying up than he spent tidying up in the first place). I find the shopping still in the bags in the fridge. I'm not even going to mention the size of our sofa! How a man of his modest size requires all that space to be comfortable is a mystery to me. But I suppose this is all part of having a man in the house. And the plusses far outweigh the minuses. After all, he is a master cook, the darling!

?

oh where did my "fab life in London" go???

EEEEK!!!

This is so embarrassing, I just have to tell you about it…

I was taking a shower the other night and when I came out of it I discovered that I had forgotten my towel in the bedroom. Nothing to do but tip-toe across the floor and try not to drip all over the place. As I enter the room Spikey goes WHEHEY! What? I ask with my over-the-years-carefully-practiced-slightly-cheeky-bedroom-smile. You’re becoming like those women in the seventies. (oh this can’t be good) What do you mean? Bushwoman, he goes. EEEEEK!

…

Well I can’t see a bloody thing down there anymore, what do you expect!!! Mirror mirror on the wall…

wello wello!

I've been let out to play! Got a latte, a carrot cake, Stelpa (that's my laptop) on the table, connected to the outside world - what could be better!!! I could think of a few things, but for now, it's just what I need. Escaped the mess at home, took a walk in the sun and found a spot with wi-fi to spread my thoughts.
Alert readers might notice that today is March 18th - not that that says much, but if you cast a glance to the right, find March 2005, you might also notice that today, it is exactly one year since I first laid eyes on Spikey, the yummie one. So what am I doing here, just sipping latte and enjoying no-one's company but Stelpa's? Good question! I would like to say something really funny about it, all I can think of is if the pleasure of Making Up stands in an equal reverse relationship to the misery of Falling Out, my world is gonna get ROCKED tonight - big time! So that's what I'll focus on, it makes the whole thing seem a bit less depressive.
But hey, it's been a year! And what a year it's been! It feels more like five, the way my life has been turned upside-down. If anyone had told me this a year ago, when I was breaking into my own flat (with alarming ease), well - I would have said that person was mad. But here I am, eight weeks to go till I can hold my son in my arms. My son.
Other things that have put their mark on the past year are turning the big 30, trying my first A-class drug, having some creep try to assault me in my sleep, London being attacked by terrorists (while I was giving evidence at the police station), starting up a family business (and extending my wardrobe by about 1000% in the process), my boss dying way too young - and yes, getting accustomed to referring to myself as part of a tiny little family, my own new family.
Ah yes, I guess it was my turn. Right now, Stelpa seems to be running out of steam, so maybe I better head on home and see whether I can patch things up - the sooner I get that over with, the more time I'll have for rocking bliss!

Auf Viedersehen!

I am in excile... stuck in a place with no connection to the wwworld... Takes me 1 1/2 hours to get to work... My phone-bill is bound to come down to earth though... Will write again when I've moved into my new place with underfloor heating, dish-washer and Spikey. And internet. Until then, auf Viedersehen, hugs and kisses!

AT SOME STAGE IN MY LIFE, I WANT TO HAVE MY SHOES ARRANGED LIKE THIS IN MY HOUSE... IN THE ROOM WHERE I KEEP MY CLOTHES

further development...

Feel like I might explode, got uterus up to my ribs and little Elvis embraces every opportunity to kick them. My bedtime is his playtime. Made a very silly decision to eat less chockolate and more dried fruit, as a result my room smells distinctively of fart... I've had to escape, so now it's back to celebrity big brother, then desperate housewives and a bit more chockolate... I seem to remember hearing that if you eat lots of chockolate during pregnancy you'll have happy babys... yes.