So, here goes.....
An old ex of mine (I still maintain we were never going out so not really an ex, but we were shagging a lot at one point....) rang me up saying that he was going out in Liverpool to celerate the fact that he'd finally got rid of his latest girlf, and was I up for an old-skool pissup with the boys. Of course, I consented, and ended up downing pints of mixed fruit cider and snakebites with him, another guy who used to be a 'buddy' and a third guy who would like nothinhg more than to become my 'buddy'. Just like old times, getting pissed with the boys.

Well.

We were on our way to the final bar of the evening and decided to call in to a student bar that is renowned for its 'quadvods'. So we stumbled into there and whilst the boys had quadvods I enjoyed a quad whiskey in a pint glass with some red bull. Classy and lethal.

Got to our bar finally, and I decided to become ver drunk. And then I decided to become ver ver drunk. And then the boyf came to meet me as planned and the boys distanced themselves cos they don't really like him. (twats). Oh, let me tell you how the boyf found me.... Walking down the street hand-in-hand with the not-really-ex after having been to the cashpoint to beg for more money. Singing.....wait for it........I am the music man. With full actions. Along a busy street. Oh yes. Shame - I has none.

So, boyf persevered with my drunken behaviour and even managed to surpress his jealousy when I went off and did some very hot salsa dancing with a latino ex who just happened to be there. Well done boyf. It quickly got to 3am and the boyf led me back to his car, where I proceeded to clamber into the back and demand that he fuck me. Obviously, being sober and realising that there were lots of people walking past, as well as police cars patrolling in the area, he graciously declined. At which point I asked him to give me my house key back, (which he wouldn't), snatched his keys and threw them forcefully at the rear windscreen and launched into a massive argument.

5 minutes later, I found myself storming through town, not knowing where I was going but suspecting that I may have just ended the relationship. Luckily, the boyf is an absolute gem and drove after me, finally catching up with me at the other end of town. We had a massive row in the middle of the street (I think it was more 'me' than 'we') and I ended up sobbing cos I thought he was gonna leave me - although I'd actually just told him he should. Then I got all guilty and started blabbering rubbish like 'you don't deserve me', and when he asked why I thought that, all I could think of was 'don't you dare mention L, don't you dare mention L'. So I kept my mouth shut (the one sensible thing I'd done all evening) and let him take me to the car.

Now - comedy moment. The boyf is mucho anal about his car. He gets up and inspects it most mornings to make sure there are no scratches on it caused by cheeky cats or paperboys rubbing past it. He has towels on the seats so they don't get marked. And whenever he parks anywhere, he always folds the wingmirrors in. So, we got back to his car, and I broke down crying again. The reason? "Oh my god!" (between shuddering sobs) "you haven't even folded your mirrors in!!!"

Classic.

So that was the end to the evening. Except for me doing a bit of a streak cos once I'd got undressed and got into bed, I was convinced that the boyf had gone down to his car to drive away and leave me, rather than get his overnight stuff, so ended up jumping up and running out into the driveway nekkid.

Oh how I paid for that evening over the next few days.

Tis funny though.

So, even though I still haven't found a new job, have done nothing with my time exept half-heartedly tweak my CV, and had my laptop on almost every day, I have sadly neglected blogland. I am now gonna devote an hour to catching up with you all, and hopefully catching up on my writing. I have a very funny story to tell about a night out with the boys last Tuesday, and want to write down the weird dreams I was having this morning cos they were grrrrrrreat!

Watch this space....

So, the boyf and I had an 'altercation' last night, on account of his being ridiculously suspicious every now and then. He turned up this morning with his tail between his legs and was met with a frosty reception. However, he claims that he is only suspicious because he thinks so far we've been 'perfect' and he's terrified that the bubble will burst. Loads of gooey creeping flattery ensued, and I began to soften. Have only eased up slightly on giving him a hard time though.

So I finally put him to bed (as he'd been working the night shift) and pottered round the house for a bit. Woke him up at 1pm but ended up getting in for a snuggle and woke up at 3pm. Whoops. Made a nice lunch of baked spuds, beans with melted cheese, and chicken dippers. Not wonderfully healthy but filling nonetheless! Then he was off to work again and I went to my mums to play with the wee kitteh and watch Midsomer Murders. TV is really novel to me lately, seeing as I don't have it in my house. I'm even fascinated by the TV ads! Shared a glass of milk with the kitteh and then headed home, by way of a white-knuckle car ride courtesy of my mother who blagged her way through her driving test.

Back at home, fed and petted my chubby lady, and settled on the couch to watch Hancock (an alright film). Have now levitated upstairs to my bed, via my dressing room to do an extremely brief workout. Et voila - its gone 1:30am and I'm still up!!

I wonder if tomorrow will be just as exciting.....

Feel a bit like Evita on the social climb to find Juan Peron. I know there's something good out there, and I know I ought to be able to find it, but there interim is taking forever.

They say things happen in threes. So far I've lost my baby (if you can call an abortion 'losing'), I've lost my job, and a few days ago I found out that I will be losing my house at the end of the month. To be fair, its not really my house, I'm living here to try and make the place look livable for my friend who's trying to sell it. Trouble is, its been on the market for over 2 years, and in the current financial climate, he ain't ever gonna get what he's asking for it. However, he's decided that if it still hasn't sold in a month, he's letting it out. The boyf and I have offered to give him £500 pcm rent, but he wants £650. As if he's just going to say "I now declare this house available for rent" and someone's going to snap it up. There is far too much property available in this city.

Unfortunately, the house also needs a lot of work, including the windows replacing as the seals have gone, the garden landscaping as is a total mess (would make the Secret Garden look like a lawn) and the back of the house re-rendering. If he becomes a landlord, he's culpable for all this. I've tried to explain, as he's a friend, but he's not having any of it, so we're looking for somewhere new. Again. Haven't even unpacked all my boxes from my last move!!

In other news, worked my last night as a lap dancer for a while last night. I decided that there's not enough money to be made in parading around in my underwear for 10 hours and suffering the indignity of begging substandard men for dances. To be blunt, I'd rather shag footballers for £1k a pop. Having said that, last night I made £100 dancing for 3 men, and gave them all hard-ons, so at least I know I'm not losing my touch, just my drive. Slung my jeans and a cardy over the outfit I was wearing so the boyf didn't notice, then when I got home I quickly stripped and gave him my final lapdance of the evening.

Managed to keep my thigh-high leather press-studded boots on during the next hour of rather fulfilling sex, too.

So I'm jobless, and soon to be homeless, but feeling rather quite chipper. Must be the hippy spirit in me. I'm a survivor, and although sometimes life can be tough and the pickings slim, I'm a firm believer in persevering through and occasionally relishing the crappy times, in order to fully appreciate your break when you get it.

And if it all goes tits up I'll put my stuff instorage and move abroad!!!

Whilst I'm doing my best to remain true and faithful to the boyf, he has denied me morning glory fun and gone to work, leaving me horny and eyeing up my toys which are provocatively displayed on my bedside table. To make matters worse, have started to engage in slighty sexual conversation with L online. If I'm not gonna get it any other way I might as well have some textual intercourse....

Someone better talk dirty to me quick or else throw a cup of cold water over me!!

Bloody hell, feels like I've not been on blog for ages, when in reality its only a few days. The trouble is, I officially asked the boyf to move in the other day, and went and got a key cut for him, and we've both been ill with a cold (well, he had man-flu, obviously) so I've not been able to sneak away for an hour and catch up on my blogging. However, today he feels fit enough to go to the gym, which means blogheaven!!

It is annoying tho - I got caught in torrential rain on Thursday, and was already feeling run down, and knew that a cold was imminent, yet even at my worst I managed to force-feed the boyf mushroom soup and cheese butties, and give him the head rubs that he loves, and go to the pharmacy to get benedryl for his hay-fever, and pick up all his snotty tissues that he'd left round the house. And I was feeling as rough as he was! Just goes to show that at whatever age, men always need a mother and women automatically take up that role.

Ah well, I have only the remnants of a sniffel now. Another thing, my poor kitty is getting bullied by the horrible yellow siamese cat next door. Every morning, without fail, he climbs onto the top of the fence and howls at my chubby princess, who gives as good as she gets in the growling department. Usually I run out and scare the siamese off before he comes into the garden, but this morning he decided to throw caution to the wind and pounced on my poor fluffy lady. I was outraged and threw what I had in my hand at him - a glass of coke (whoops!) - and he still didn't budge so I had to get a mop involved. Now my poor girlie is too scared to go in the garden so I've had to pet her loads and give her some mackerel for lunch. He he spoilt kitteh! Gonna walk down to the pet shop later and get her a harness so I can take her for walks in the park I think. That should be fun!!!

Okay, I've managed to gloss over the dynamite news in the first paragraph - yes, I've asked the boyf to move in. It feels right. We're talking about marriage more and more and he's here all the time anyway. At least I should see if we can live together before anything else happens. In other news, got a new bouncy mattress to break in.....