Make Do.....Or Mend

It never ceases to amaze me how certain people feel quite prepared to risk all the good things they have in their life, just for a quick fling. When I say people I mean men, of course. I'm sure there are plenty of women who would do exactly the same, but not ever having dated women and therefore consequently being cheated on by a woman, I can't speak much on that subject I'm afraid. Please feel free, all you men reading this, to share your similar experiences - if you have any. I wouldn't want this being a one-sided slag off ;-)

It seems to me that once someone special enters your life, all those naughty, bored little cretins come out of the woodwork to try and tempt you away. I hasten to add at this point that I am not easily tempted and would never be lured away from my man. Unlike certain people, I am content with what I have, and if the day ever came whereby I might feel I've had enough - I will end it honourably. I've known guys who openly display their lusty thoughts in front of their girlfriends/wives. I remember dating one guy who actually used to point out other women to me. "She's got a nice arse", he'd say. Or he'd do a double-take if a beautiful woman walked past and utter something like "Jesus, some lucky bastard gets to tap that", followed by an overly-dramatic facial expression or a shivver - as if to try and shake off those horny thoughts. He'd then look at me and give me an apologetic smile and a shrug as if to say "Well I'm only human". When I found out he'd cheated on me with some skank from Essex (on my birthday I might add) I wasn't very much surprised. When I also found out at a later date that he'd caught an STD from her, I wasn't very much surprised either. I was however, extremely delighted.

I understand that there are some beautiful people around, I'm under no illusion that men are blind to them, I just wish that these certain cretins would banish any thoughts that make them think the grass might be greener in a different bed. I've been a witness to a few married men making the most of time away from their wives; I used to work in a holiday camp, nothing can shock me any more. I once asked one particular cheating married man why he did it. He replied; "Because I can. Who's going to tell her"? What chance does a woman have against a guy like that? Nine times out of ten you can never tell a man will cheat. There are usually no visible warning signs. I've noticed previous boyfriends stealing a glance at other women in the street, like my mother I have "eyes in the back of my head"! But I don't mind because it's a natural instinct, just like if Bradley Cooper walked down my street I'd gawp at him too. In fact, to be fair, I'd probably run and leap on him. Mr Z would understand - just like I'd understand if Katy Perry came to town and he'd turn into a dribbling mong.

So for all you deceiving husbands/boyfriends out there, can I suggest you be happy with what you already have? And if you aren't, do the honourable thing before you go sniffing around other women who are perfectly happy with what they have. This is a fling that refuses to be flung!

The waiting game is over!

Finally, seven months after losing my permanent job (not counting the two small temp positions since then) I have been offered a job! I can now breathe an epic sigh of relief. It's actually another temp, but for ten months, so that's enough to pay rent at least. It's happened quite quick, they want me to start on Thursday - which is great, except it gives me only a very small window to drive home and grab more work clothes. That's what the sensible  me would do anyway. The normal me would just go into town and buy a new work wardrobe. But I won't get ahead of myself just yet, I'll give the job a few weeks before I start spending on anything apart from bills. I'm already a tad concerned about the coming of my credit card bill. Eek!

The best thing is knowing I'll be closer to Em, the Mexican, and all my old buddies I rarely get a chance to see - not to mention Mr Z of course. I can't get much closer than living quarters. I think E & M are sincerely going to regret inviting me to stay! It's suddenly gone from staying for a week, to staying until I get enough money to find my own place. Mr Z actually talked last night about me cooking dinner for him until I could afford to pay him rent, as I do love to cook. Now I didn't want to elaborate too much on this in case he wasn't being serious and then I'd look a massive twat being all "female" about my boyfriend inviting me to move in with him. But I think he meant it. I may have to gently broach the subject again later though, just to be sure what I heard was right! My food does have an effect on people. Diarrhoea is the usual effect, but he'll soon learn to stomach it.

The Slimming World diet is going ok so far. Kind of. I might've allowed Mr Z's mum to force feed me a slice of lemon cake yesterday. It was for a genuinely acceptable reason though - I had to down a glass of codine for my headache and it tasted like puke, so the cake helped it go down, therefore actually aiding that particular quest for good health. Oh shut up.

Well let's hope I can tick "Find a job I enjoy" off my bucket list. I can already tick off "Find a genuinely nice bloke who treats me well" and "Get out of Lowestoft". My next goals are "Successfully manage to keep hold of genuinely nice bloke" and "Win an obscene amount of cash on the lottery". Well nobody said I couldn't aim high!

Upside Down

I'm in a slightly better mood today on account of my car passing it's MOT. It's a fairly new car so I would've been shocked (and slightly suspicious) if it'd failed, but you know how I like to worry. My mood, much like the weather today, is changing back and forth from sunny to dreary. I'm not too sure if it's a woman thing, or if it's recent activities making me volatile. No, volatile isn't the right word - if I were in my volatile mood I'd have people avoiding me at all costs. Up and down sounds better. A month ago I had no idea what I was doing or what I wanted to do. Now I've got a much better idea of both, but things aren't moving fast enough! Lack of money is obviously very restricting. I'm conscious of the fact that I just have enough money coming in to cover my car repayments and health insurance. Good job too, the way things are going I'll be needing that health insurance soon. Thank god for Emma and her birthday present of a free spa weekend for two people next month! I am shitting myself at the fact that my credit card bill is due soon. Which reminds me, I must try and find those smelling salts ASAP.

I shall be lodging, once again, with Emma and the Mexican next week. Thankfully we're still on speaking terms but I don't want to push my luck. As soon as I get a whiff of a job offer I'll be checking out the local flat/house share prices. Mr Z has me under strict instructions to be aware of any "Single White Female"-looking lodgers, as he will be staying well away otherwise. Unfortunately, many freaks and weirdos hide their true selves pretty well - until the day you come home and find Eddie "Freddy" Kruger in your bedroom, wearing one of your bras and sniffing the contents of your underwear drawer with his wang in his hand. Oh god what a thought. I hope Em and Mexican don't get pissed off with me any time soon....!

Mr Z is playing a gig next weekend and I'm very excited at the thought of watching him play. Luckily, if my excitement turns a little....over-excited, we're house-sitting for Em and Mex that weekend, which means a house to ourselves. Good times! I'll even treat him to my home-made peanut butter cookies as a "Welcome Back from Brighton and thanks for not humping a stripper" present! My cookies are pretty amazing. I know how to win a mans heart. Ok, maybe I don't. But he'll freaking love those damn cookies! I, on the other hand, am back on the Slimming World diet. I'm not sure at which point I actually came off it, I just got fed up counting "syns". I'll stick to it this time though, Mr Z is rather slim so I can't be letting the side down. My mirror seems to have turned into one of those bendy circus mirrors which make you look like a rhino. Mr Z thinks I'm being stupid, and it's lovely that he's not bothered by size - it makes a refreshing change not to be judged on my appearance any more, but I have a weight goal and I'm determined to reach it. I think if I can accomplish that I can accomplish anything!

Fuck me am I hungry though.......

Does your butt take credit cards...?

I may be getting a little ahead of myself, but I'm drawing up a list of things I'm going to buy once I find myself a job. Obviously somewhere to live would be top of the list, but I haven't been able to do a proper shopping spree in a while and it's all built up inside me like a volcano ready to erupt. I stood in front of a shop window yesterday eyeing up a pair of Vivienne Westwood shoes and could feel the slightest sensation of a tiny bit of saliva starting to ease it's way out of the corner of my mouth. My eyes glazed over and I felt almost the same sensation I get when I look into Mr Z's dreamy blue eyes. Don't tell him I said that though.....

I'm also looking at tattoo designs as I feel it's about time I mutilated my body again, for the sake of art of course. I have two Chinese symbols on my shoulder which mean Luck and Prosperity. At least that's what I believe they're meant to say. For all I know I could have number 12 and number 9 of the local Chinese takeaway menu on my fricking back. They look good anyway, regardless of whether they say Luck - or Crispy Won Ton. I've picked out a few designs which I shall be sharing with my man and my closest friends, as they're the only opinions that count. Mind you, if I find a design I really like but they think it looks stupid I'll listen to their reasoning - but get it done anyway. Stubborn ass that I am.

Mr Z is off to Brighton for a stag do this weekend. I'm keeping myself occupied, as the thought of a size zero, big titted stripper sticking her butt and jubblies in my boyfriends face is an image I'm finding hard to banish from my mind, much to my displeasure. The trust is there, but you know what us women are like - none of us like to see any other woman prettier or slimmer than us flaunting that very fact in front of an impressionable boyfriend! There's a slight concern he might be forever looking at us in a different light and thinking "I wish she had a butt like that pole dancer", or, "I wish my girlfriend could do that thing with a ping pong too...". I wouldn't give a guy a hard time about it, insecurities can fuck things up royally, but I'm looking forward to being distracted and not thinking about the weekend at all. Obviously I hope he has a good time, and I'm not stupid, I know what occurs at stag do's - I crashed one with a few mates a couple of years ago (coincidently, I will never ever drink Absinth. Ever.) - "When In Rome" and all that. I just don't want to hear the full details. What happens in Brighton stays in Brighton. Unless it includes cheating. Cheating should always be 'fessed up no matter what any magazine agony aunts might say! I trust Mr Z in that respect though, he knows my milkshake will bring him back to the yard. ( I can't quite carry off that statement can I...?).

The job interview went well yesterday and I should hear by tonight if I've got it or not. Several more in the pipeline, things looking up. All I can do is hope. In fact, that could be my tattoo. I think I'd better Google a nice Chinese symbol for "Hope". But maybe run it past the guys at my local takeaway first.

Don't stop movin'

I'm getting ever-so-slightly subtle hints from my mates about doing more Blogs ("Where's todays fucking Blog???), so I am here, on this beautifully sunny day, inside....doing a Blog. I really really need to get myself an iPad!

Things are moving a tiny bit forward in regards to my work situation lately. I've had dozens more jobs to apply for in Ipswich than I have in Lowestoft, but then I guess there are more people to apply for them so it's kind of a Catch 22 thing. I have a job interview lined up tomorrow afternoon, plus one of the recruitment agencies I forced myself onto have rang to say a receptionist job is available and can I do a telephone interview for it. Cue fake posh telephone voice. I've done my company research, I've updated my CV, I've chosen the interview outfit (lilac shirt, grey pleated skirt, huge white belt - always a winner), and I've got my Tom Tom programmed to take me there (half an hour early so I can give myself a pep talk - "Don't fuck this up you dumb cow"!). All I can do is hope for the best. I know how fabulous I am, it's convincing others to believe me that seems to be the problem.

I'll be staying with Mr Z tonight. In fact, I've been staying with Mr Z quite a bit. I don't want to push my luck though, his Mum is lovely but I'm sure after a while she'll start to plot to get us out of her house. I'm expecting the itching powder in the bed trick, or sitting down to "burnt to a crisp" dinner. That particular trick wouldn't work with me, I'd just be happy with take-away every night! Mr Z and I are in the same situation; both of us moved out once (or in my case, twice) and it didn't work out so we had to move back. Once you've had that taste of freedom it's very hard to have to give it up again. After a month or two of moving back in with the parents you start to imagine different ways of bumping them off. I'm joking of course. *ahem*. The worse thing to experience is when the bed starts to develop a squeek because you've been humping so much. All you want to do is bang away wildly, but at the forefront of your mind is "Mum knows what we're doing". If I don't get a flat of my own soon I think we're going to end up like one of those couples you see in the back of a car lined up near the local dogging patch.

Ok I think I need to get outside and catch some rays before my jaunt to Ipswich this afternoon. I want all of you to think positive thoughts for me - they worked when I asked you to think positively for me and Mr Z! I need this job. I need to get out of Lowestoft. I need to get a bed that doesn't squeek.

Gotta love it when a plan starts to come together!

I've really been abandoning this Blog for the last few weeks so it's about time I do some updating. I have a lot to update!

Since I came up to Ipswich a few weeks ago it seems lots has happened in a short space of time and I'm having trouble finding my head from my arse. Time has flown by, although probably not for my poor friends whose house I've gate-crashed since the beginning of the month! I can assure you though, it's been productive....

I was thinking a few months back that I should be branching out to Ipswich with my job search, being that it's closer to London & Essex but slightly cheaper to live in. Since November I've not had a huge choice of jobs to apply for in Lowestoft and the ones I've applied for have been unsuccessful, bar one seven week temp job. In the last two weeks of being in Ipswich I've applied for fifteen jobs and within a day of applying to one of them I got offered a job interview. I've also signed on to eight recruitment agencies, one of which immediately enthused about a job I might be suitable for ASAP. It's amazing what happens when you work hard to find the greener grass.

I also have an extra small incentive to move a little more Southernly now; my fabulous, and wonderfully patient, Bramblewood friends. And Mr Z.

Before you start thinking, "hang on - she said she'd never do anything extreme for a man again"...don't worry, I know what I'm doing! I'd like to state for the record that I am moving to Ipswich strictly to look after my career needs (and to have more parties/TV nights/general drinking and acting the twat nights with Em & the Mexican). But after spending quite a bit of time with Mr Z lately, it's made the prospect of going back to Lowestoft feel pretty shit. It's been a fair while since a guy made me feel happy. In fact it's been a fair while since a guy made me feel even the slightest bit chirpy. It's just so refreshing to be with someone I can be silly with and not feel like a total moron, or not feel like I have to be something or someone I'm not. I'm feeling like myself again. God help us all!

A trip to Alton Towers at the beginning of the week was another cherry on the cake this month! Emm & Mexican are the only couple I can third-wheel with and not feel like a gooseberry. We had a freakin awesome time! I have posted you a few pictures to prove I'm not a total wimp. Although after seeing Emm stagger off Nemesis a little worse for wear I'm glad I stuck to being a bit of a wimp! The Nutty Squirrel ride was about as hard-core as I got. Epic. Other occasions this month : the Jubilee Party and Dublin, shall require a whole Blog all to themselves, another day!

Everything seems to be coming together, slowly but surely. I'm remembering what having a good time feels like. I'm in the company of people and friends who take me as I am and don't expect any more or less - and vice versa. The job front is looking more positive and the prospects are better than they were previously. Then there's Mr Z. Through a little vice or two he's pretty damn cool and I wouldn't change a thing about him. And if for any reason it doesn't work out in the end......in fact, I'm not going to finish that sentence - It's time for a change in my negativity I think. I may even be starting to like the Beastie Boys. Congrats Mr Z, you've already accomplished so much!

An Affair to Remember.....and continue

Well It's Tuesday today, which means I survived the Jubilee party. Yay me!I have to admit, I started off a little too keen - downing a glass of Pimms swiftly followed by another five glasses of Pimms. Good times. After a few near misses with my stiletto boots on the garden gravel, and talking complete and utter shit, I decided to catch up on my glasses of water....!

I spent a good twenty minutes this morning untagging myself in some rather unsavoury pictures involving my tits and a massive gusset close-up (I'm never drinking ever again). I'm sure you've all been in that situation (having to untag the next day, not flashing gussets to the camera. Or maybe you have!). Lot's of pictures of tits, people falling over, boozy blokes pretending to dry hump each other, squirty cream, devilled eggs falling down bras, dipping burgers in ketchup squirted into bras, BBQ catching fire.....actually - how an event would look if you combined a brothel orgy with the London riots. Fuck I've enjoyed this weekend!

As much as I enjoyed a most epic party, the best part of the last four days has been meeting Mr Z. I had my concerns before we met, as you know from my previous Blogs, but from the first few hours of getting to know each other those worries started to drop away. He was sweet and funny, not to mention totally gorgeous, and we got on even better than I'd hoped. Everything felt right. In a way, it kinda scares me. I'm not known for my successful relationships. I'm the one people come to for advice on how to spot a douchebag. I just wish I knew how to spot one from the very beginning! Mr Z was everything I'd hoped for and more. Four days has felt like four years, but in a good way. I leave for Essex tomorrow, then it's Dublin on Friday, so I'm excited about that. But now it's kind of bittersweet. I wish I could talk about the entire weekend so you can fully understand exactly how I'm feeling right now, but that is one thing I need to keep between him and I. In a way, although I'd love to be a hard hitting Blogger and tell you all the gory details, I think it's good for some things to remain unsaid. For now ;-)

However, I won't talk about Mr Z in the past tense, because this is definitely not the end of it. He appears to feel the same and we're going to continue seeing each other to see where it might lead. If it continues along the same route as it has over the last four days then I'm thinking happy days may be here again. Finally.