Nobody in my real life even knows that I keep a diary or a blog. Well there’s one person, but he’s not in my real life. He’s a virtual person just like you people are to me.. just like I am to you. Anyways, my point is that nobody reads my diary, nobody gives me feedback on it, and I’d be horrified if they did, but for some reason when I get a comment here, or an email about my blog, I quite like it. So, since I started this blog, I’ve had a few emails, and I thought I would answer them here. (Of course I am very polite so these people have already been replied to in private too )

Ok.. TrueBlu76 emailed me to tell me that she (I think you’re a she) is sorry that Mr Ex left me, but feels that I let him get away with cheating on me scot-free. My response to that is this: Don’t be sorry he left me, because I’m not anymore. As for cheating on me, I know he did me up like a kipper but I believe he was caught between a rock and a hard place – torn between a woman he had feelings for and a marriage to a woman he used to have feelings for. Besides, by the time I found out he had cheated on me, it was all academic. It was too late to do anything aboutm and I guess I feel like what would be the point of letting him know I’m hurt?

Dave emailed me asking if I would be so kind as to upload some of the pictures that I send Mr E. Well Dave – I would love to. However, there are two reasons I can’t do that. Firstly, I’m very shy and finding the courage to show those pictures to Mr E was hard enough, and I don’t think that’s a process I can repeat I’m afraid. Secondly, even though Mr E and I don’t have that relationship anymore, I wouldn’t want him to go thinking that I send those pictures to just anyone you know?!!  

Then I had two questions from Sylvie. Firstly she says that the name of my blog – Extrovert: Introverted is a contradiction in terms and she asks why I think I can be both an extrovert and an introvert. Secondly she wants to know what the people in my blog look like?! Well, Sylvie – I am an extrovert. I go out with my friends and I’m the loudest one in the group. I’m the one that talks to strangers, I’m the one who gets invited to parties to loosen everyone up. I’m loud and proud BUT I’m really shy and terribly introverted in a one-to-one situation.I can chat to someone for ages and yet they usually come away from the conversation knowing nothing about me, whereas I know everything about them. So, I am an extrovert and yet I’m very introverted at the same time.

As for a physical description, I told Sylvie that If she names someone in my blog, I will happily describe him/her!!!

I don’t think he understood, but he said that I should have fun and do what I want and that he for one wouldn’t think any less of me. Now I must stress that I couldn’t and wouldn’t do that, but I have been wondering just recently about this new concept I came up with – The Weekender.

So, for The Weekender to work I would need the house to myself for the whole weekend. Check. I would then need a willing and quite handsome participant that I know and actually want to have sex with. Che.. We’ll come back to that one! Now my plan is this: to invite said someone to my house for the whole weekend, and share a fab weekend together. Mainly sex, but with some other stuff thrown in like eating, watching films, a shower and maybe even some sleep here and there. So, on Friday night he arrives, and then on Sunday evening he leaves. By Monday morning, the weekend has passed and we both go back to our respective lives with a smile on our faces.

The plan is that we have a fab weekend that we can look back on fondly, and yet know all along that it is just for one weekend. It cuts out all the will he call, or what is he thinking crap. It cuts out all the relationship bullshit. It’s basically like renting a boyfriend. What a delicious proposition to someone like me, eh?

Now the more I think about it, the more the idea makes sense. I mean, I have a drawer full of gorgeous undies just crying out to be appreciated – and I have plans to buy many more gorgeous undies too. I have a big house all to myself at weekends. And.. let’s face it I have a new body that nobody has ever seen, and I haven’t had sex since New Years Day. That’s like 7 months – and that’s a long time.

So now, I need someone who I like enough to have sex with and spend a weekend with – and yet dont like so much that I couldn’t let him go after the weekend. Sounds easy enough, I have quite a few gorgeous male friends that I would be very happy to kick out on Sunday evening…

…I shall keep you updated on my progress!!

So he said something stupid and I went to town on him. Crying and screaming like a banshee. Well, it was hiw fault. Wanker. And… earlier in the day, he’s had the cheek to put his hands on me. That ended with an apology and me calmly making it very clear to him that if he put his hands on me ever again that I will take a knife and cut his balls off while he sleeps. He looked at me and I stared him right out. I was deadly serious. The days of me letting a man rule me have looooooong gone. Pick the bones out of that, sweetheart.

And then lets move on.. on Sunday night I had a text from Louie. I didn’t get it until Monday morning, as I was sleeping. There were two texts. In the first he said that he wanted me to know that he would never hurt me. In the second, he said that he wanted me to tell him I wasn’t thinking about him too. Well I pondered on that for a few hours. I spoke to Mr E, who told me about his weekend. In the end the subject of Louie came up, and I told him about the texts. In the end I text Louie back saying that I missed him, and would like to spend some time with him without promises. He text me back fairly promptly saying that he didn’t need promises and would like to spend time with me too.

So that was all fab and that night he text me back and forth lots until I fell asleep eventually. We talked about all sorts of things he was being really nice to me and basically making it clear that he wanted me to be comfortable with everything and would play the situation however I wanted to. He told me that he wanted to spend time with me, and if I did too then brilliant, but its OK if I don’t. He asked me why I’d been pushing him away. He asked me alot of questions actually. I like when people ask me questions. So fun!

The next day I started to freak out a bit. Yep, yesterday was a weird day for freaking out. I started to feel like I’d already committed to spending time with him and he would be expecting something of me. I hate that feeling when you have feelings and you’re worried if you can control them enough that you don’t get hurt. But Louie text me and in his usual ESP styled fashion, he told me he knew I was probably freaking out and he asked me just to hold on until he got back. I thought that was really sweet. Maybe I am a pushover after all!

So all was fab until last night. I went and had a thoroughly unpleasant chat with one of his friends whilst I was at the gym. He told me Louie had a girlfriend and it was unfair of me to make him finish his relationship with her when I was leading him on. Now I had no idea that Louie had a girlfriend, so I came home quite upset. It also really upset me that he’d told his friends about me. When I got home I didn’t know quite what to do or think, and when Louie text me, I responded by ignoring him and in some sort of a silent ‘screw you’ I texted about 6 of my other male friends instead of texting him.

So.. today, I picked apart what happened with Mr E who seemed intent, again… yawn.. on telling me that not everyone is the same, maybe there is a good explanation and that I am maybe overreacting. He seemed to think I was more upset about him telling me it was our secret and then blabbing to his friend. It’s the girlfriend thing that really grated on me. Anyways, to cut a very long saga of a story short, Louie asked if I was ignoring him and I told him about my conversation with his friend.

He eventually explained that he finished with the girlfriend (who apparently wasn’t a serious girlfriend) on the Friday night after our moment as I put it. So in a semi-flattering way, he had that moment with me and went and finished with her. In a not so flattering way, he was still attached in some way to someone else when he kissed me that time.

Now, Mr E still seems to think I should give Louie a chance. I’m thinking about alot of things. I don’t want to be the scarlet woman in the equation. I don’t want to be with someone who lies. I don’t want to be with someone who was with someone else a week ago.. I just don’t know.

So, I’ve been ignoring Louie a bit, and he’s been texting and trying to call me. I just don’t know what to say to him. Mr E says I will have to speak to him eventually. He also says that as soon as Louie gets back from Spain, he will be on my doorstep… We’ll see…

I was out for most of the morning until 11am, and when I got back I noticed I’d left my messenger on and had messages from a couple of people. So I was on the net chatting with Alice, FlyBoy, Mr E and someone else. I was surprised Mr E was there since it was his birthday yesterday. Why he was in work on his birthday I didn’t know, and why everyone seems to have a birthday in August is a further mystery still.

By about 1ish, the subject of Louie came up with Mr E. Mr E seems to think that I’ve wimped out by flat out refusing to take things any further with Louie. I guess he’s right in a way, but I wish he could see that I’m right. One day, at some point it would bother Louie that I have children, that I have my very own life all carved out before he found me. I have my own house, my own money and my own children and I can’t see the benefits of sharing that with someone for them to decide in a while that they don’t want me after all.

I think that admitting to Mr E that I think that I may have feelings for Louie was a mistake because now he seems to have a bee in his bonnet about making me see that I need to do something about it, and I wish I could explain in words that he would understand that that is something that I don’t think I can do. I must admit I was surprised at how much I miss Louie already even though he only jetted off yesterday!! And I am surprised by the way that it hurts me that he might forget me when he’s gone. But then that could mean anything. I usually tell my friends not to forget me when I say goodbye to them for any amount of time! 

Mr E really pushed the subject and I still don’t understand why he did. He told me he wasn’t trying to be nasty. I felt a bit upset and asked him he was being nasty if he didn’t want to be. He told me that he was trying to make me see sense. I used the analogy that if I didn’t go there with Louie then I wouldn’t have to suffer watching him kiss and be in love with someone else five years down the line, the way I’ve had to with Mr Ex. Mr E came right out and told me that if Louie did get with someone else, I’ll be wishing it was me anyways. To be honest that cut a little bit close to home since I have been looking at a girl kissing Mr Ex and wishing I was her for the past few weeks now. It dawned on me that just maybe Mr E was as right as I am. Just maybe I’ll be wishing I was the girl with Louie whether there’s a girl now instead of me, or a girl a while down the line after me. I am damned if I do, and I’m damned if I don’t.

Either way, even though I considered what Mr E said, I must admit that my own sense of black and white is taking over. I’m 25. Guys my age are still young and they’re not settled at all, and whereas I really don’t want a settled guy, I must admit to myself that guys are going to see the fact that I am a mother as a downside to me. Imagine if I’m Louie’s girlfriend and he tells someone that he’s seeing that woman that lives in that house up the road, you know the one who’s Husband ran off with a scrawny bint. You know, the one with two kids. And his friends would be telling him that he can do better – why settle down with a woman with children, as if I’m going to want to tie him down somehow which is the last thing I want.

And, in the end – Louie will see this. He will see me for what I am. A mother of two children with her own mortgage and her own life, already settled in some big way before he ever came along. I’ve had a whole lifetime without him, and he will start thinking about seeing someone who doesn’t have children. He will start to see his friend’s point of view and in the end it will all end – and that will be awkward. I’ll need to join another gym!

I spoke to my friend Alice about my theory, and to my absolute shock and horror – she agreed with Mr E!! I was shocked to hear this as Alice hates men almost as much as me, and she usually always agrees with me. She did tell me however, that she could understand my thoughts on never wanting to share my life again. She told me that she’s been with someone so possessive that if she embarks on a relationship again, she’ll be really selfish and only throw him scraps of her time, and want him to worship her and do everything on her terms. “My way or the highway” were her exact words!

I told her that I wouldn’t be like that. I told her I can imagine a relationship of sorts, but that he’d get to spend all the time with me he wants when the childen aren’t around. We would have weekends in or out, at my place or his. Evenings doing what we want, if he comes around when the children are sleeping or when they’re not here. He can lavish attention on me, and I will lavish just as much on him. BUT. He will need to be aware that I do not want to share MY children with him, or share him with my children. He will be a separate entity. Moving in together wouldn’t happen, marriage wouldn’t happen. Children together wouldn’t happen. Alice says that I’ll change my mind on that if and when a relationship comes up. Maybe I will. But.. BUT I physically, literally can’t take that step. I will not ever be someone’s ever again.

The selfish part of me is wishing that Louie is in Spain, pining over me and wanting me to text him. Thinking about me and with his fingers hovering over the ”send” button on his phone. The over-riding self sacrificing, self tortuous part of me is wholeheartedly hoping that he is just having fun. Not thinking about the cranky single Mum in the big house, more likely thinking about some Spanish girl or other. I know he’s having a good time. And I know that I’m not on his mind. That’s not OK with me, but it is right.

Anyways. Last week I asked Mr E if I should change my public status on Facebook to say that I’m now single. He seemed to think it was a good idea but told me that I should expect to receive some messages from guys “just because”. I told him that I didn’t think so, but would keep him informed. Yesterday I changed my status and today I reported to Mr E that five people, five men had so far commented on it. One is a perv and a recently married one at that, with a baby on the way. He seemed to think I’d made it up and that I was just hiding my Husband somewhere. Idiot. One was a thoroughly nice guy I went to school with, also recently married and the comment was 100% innocent. The other three are all single. Dave is single since he was left broken hearted last year and is now “a bit of a dawg” Alan is 45 if he’s a day, and is single but sees me as a daughter if anything. He commented on how my friend that came out in the city with me on Saturday night is good looking. The last one was Hayden. Hayden was a close friend of mine when I was 16. I fancied the pants off him. Nothing ever happened apart from one teensy tiny little bit of will they wont they, which is a game that I love!

Anyways, so Hayden told me that he was still amazing at making his famous lemon mousse cheesecakes, and he offered to make me one. He offered for me to go to his place or for him to come to mine sometime and he’d cook for me. Now to me that seems like a friend offering to cook for another, but Mr E informs me that Hayden means more than that. More than friends.

This left Mr E and I talking briefly about the now three guys that may or may not be on the horizon. We have Hayden who I discounted because I went to school with him (which seemed to bother Mr E, since I went to school with him also. He seemed intent on me giving Hayden a chance) Louie, who I have discounted because he’s a nice guy, and Leigh who I have discounted because I met him in a club on a night out.

Mr E asked me a few times why I feel the need to rule out these guys without even giving them the chance or a date. In the end I relented and told him the real reason. I’m a mother. I have children. I’m only 25 and I have two children. I told him that any guy out there will at some point be put off by the fact that I have kids. I told him that it’s not the same for women and men. I would happily start seeing a guy I liked whether he had kids or not, and would have done before I had my children, but men will use it as a reason to not be with a woman. Mr E seemed intent on telling me that not all men are the same. I decided to call his bluff. I said “fine – tell me that when you weighed up my pros and cons that the fact that I am a mother didn’t come into it.” I asked him not to lie to me. He admitted that it did.

I told him my working out. Mr E has spent the last few months convincing me that not all men are the same, and that he is a nice guy. His plan worked and I have relented and admitted that he is probably one of the nicest guys I’ve met. He believes in fate and real love and all the things I believe in. If someone like him will use it as a reason not to be with me, any guy will. I know that for a fact.

I hate that because I consider being a Mum to be the very best thing about me. I love being a Mum. I love my children. I love watching them grow, I love watching them sleep. I love dancing with them and I love getting mucky with them. I love that they love me, I love that their worlds revolve around me. I love that they look to me for help with everything and I love that hearing my voice or seeing my face makes them smile. I love being around them. Being a Mum is really the best thing about me. I don’t spend as much time with my children as I used to now that Mr Ex and I have separated, and I have time to devote to myself now, but I still love being a Mum more than anything.

In fact, if Mr E trying to talk me out of feeling like that did anything, it made me believe more in what I was saying. The more I argued the point, the more it made sense, and I knew I had to tell Louie that he could be free on his holiday to meet or start seeing someone without thinking that anything was going to happen between us when he got back. In my moment of self sacrifice I knew it was only fair to let Louie know he was free.

Also I decided to let Hayden know that I couldn’t meet up. I told him I’m incredibly busy and that I’m not ready to spend time with anyone. I texted Louie and told him that I was sorry but I wanted to make it clear that nothing would happen between us. Louie text back almost straightaway. He told me he understood and that he had hoped something would happen but he knew it probably wouldn’t. He told me he may get lucky and meet a girl out there who could run like I can. He says all the nicest things!!

So then.. why does it hurt my feelings a little?

So I guess I should start by mentioning the fact that my Dad is not actually my real father. My real father is a weasel that I haven’t seen since I was in fact aroundabout 4 or 5. My Dad, as in the guy who lives with and is married to my mother is the real father of my brothers and sisters, and has been in my life since very shortly after my real father wasn’t.

I don’t know him, I’ve not seen him since I was 4 or 5. I know that I used to go and visit with him when I was younger, and I remember my Dad taking me to his house in the car and dropping me off for my visit. I remember him picking me up afterwards aswell. So, I know that my father was in my life even after my Dad came into the picture. I don’t remember any mistreatment and yet I know that the reason I have never seen him is because my Mother has never allowed it. I know that my Father left my life because my mother made it that way. I remember him trying to visit me and being turned away. When I was a young child and later on. I know he tried to get access to me when I was 13ish, and I know he tried again when I was 17.

Now my Mother will never speak of it, or him. I know that she has told me on occasion that as much as she loves me, it’s hard sometimes when someone reminds you every day of the one person you can’t stand. My Mother was young when she had me. She was 20, and it makes me wonder if being with my real father was a big mistake for her, and having me just reminds her of that? In my laymans opinion, and my brush with postnatal depression when my son was born – I think she had PND and that it was sufficiently bad that she didn’t bond with me the way she could have. It took me nearly a year to find that bond with my son, and I wonder if she ever found it with me.

Anyways, it’s not a secret, not something I guard closely. I don’t panic and backtrack when someone works out that my surname on my birth certificate is different to my maiden name. I’m open about the fact that I do not know who my father is, it just never comes up in conversation. But, I can’t ask my Mum about him, she makes me feel guilty. She tells me that I have a Dad now and that I would hurt his feelings by delving and looking for another Dad. Now I’m 25, I decided to find out what I could.

I asked for a copy of my medical records. I figured there’d be some clue in there about what went on, and my Mother alluded to something being in there. I waited weeks for a copy of my records to come through – until I looked on the internet and found out that I can just ask the surgery if I can go in and read the records they have there for me, and photocopy anything I want to take away. I just need to take them a letter and make an appointment.

So.. last Thurday, the errand I had to run at the Doctor’s Surgery before going out with Gemini was taking them the letter I’d written. Did you know that they only have to keep childhood records until you’re 21, and adult records only have to be kept for 3 years? The lady at the surgery looked at my records and told me that she has letters in there from 1985. I got an appointment for first thing the next morning.

I went in there bright eyed and bushy tailed and I looked at my records. I didn’t know what I’d find, and truth be told I wasn’t expecting to find anything. But what I did find is very strange indeed. When I was almost three, there are reports of suspected ”paternal abuse” due to certain marks on my body and it says that they contacted Social Services. It doesn’t go into it that much, so I don’t know the details, and for once I am happy about my mind letting me down because I think it’s a blessing that I don’t remember.

One thing I do remember is that my Mother had a night job as a cleaner when I was young, and I would stay at home with him in the evenings. I can vaguely remember one day crying and begging my Mother not to leave me with him, and she did anyway. I just thought I was playing up and I must have been close to my Mother, but now I’m wondering if there was a reason I hated to be alone with him.

In the next few consultation reports, the doctor seems to be concerned that I am still living at home and says he will contact Social Services again to ask “why this vulnerable, withdrawn child STILL lives with a father who is CLEARLY causing her irreparable harm” He also states that my Mother is in “clear denial” and has “no intention of leaving”. I’m very surprised to be honest. I had no idea it was within a doctor’s remit to judge these situations, but the lady down at the surgery told me that back then they wrote all sorts of stuff in the files.

About a year later there are a few letters from the hospital to my doctor about me not turning up for some speech therapy appointments and them being very concerned that I suddenly have stopped talking. They say that they have contacted Social Services. 

The interesting thing about these letters is that my address is down as being in a women’s refuge. I remember something about being there. I remember lots of women and children sleeping in the same room, and them putting up some more bunk beds one day. I remember my Mum meeting someone there with the same name as me. 

A few months later another letter says that I would benefit from seeing a psychologist because the Speech Therapy people are of the opinion that I can talk but am not talking because of some sort of trauma “possibly sexual abuse”  

About a month after the last Speech Therapy letter, there is a consultation with the doctor who writes “now in care with Mrs Smith of..” and then there’s an address. Reading through the notes, I was in care for six months, before there is a consultation report saying that I am with my Mother. It says “Mother now pregnant by someone else, child now lives with them. Homelife is now satisfactory. Father has been arrested and is awating court on abuse charges.”

Something else grabbed my attention from when I was 11. I went to the Doctor’s for some minor complaint - an ear infection I believe – and it says “presented with Mother and FIVE brothers and sisters!!! CHAOS!!” I have to laugh at that one, as the lady told me, they used to write all sorts of stuff in the files back then as they didn’t know that the DPA would come into force and make it so easy for patients to view their files. This was also before the realms of political correctness came into play!

Then, in the mid 90s when I was a teenager there is something about a history of a genetic disorder in my father’s family. Apparently a letter was received that I should get a genetic test. I never did get that test, but I am a quarter of a century old and I have not discovered any genetic diseases yet. I think I’ll be OK. Although I’ll give them a ring just in case.

So my mind boggles for many reasons. It seems that my real father is a grade A asshole who I am better off without, but I have some big questions that if I could, I would ask my Mother. For instance - if I had marks on my body and a doctor suspected I was being abused – why didn’t my Mother take me away from him? Why was it not until a long time later that I was in a refuge with her? Why was I in care? Did my Father go to prison for abusing me? Why did doctors and Social Services seem to care about me more than she did? Why didn’t she take me to appointments for speech therapy when I suddenly stopped talking?

I have so many questions, but I really think I have to keep it all to myself. I mean, what good would it do to drag this up 20+ years later? I wonder if I’m abnormal, and that I should care about all this stuff more than I do? But for some reason I just don’t. I have that numb feeling. I’m sure I should be very upset that my life started like that but right now - although if I could choose I’d have had a different start to life – I’m not sure I should care about something I can’t remember.

For some reason, I’m thinking more about the fact that to photocopy the sheets I have brought home cost me 40p a sheet!! What a rip off, eh?!!

A few hours later, after he’d suitably ignored me and made me wish I had stayed at home, we were all sitting in my brother’s room watching a film. He sort of nudged me and I looked over at his iPod. He had an animation running on it. It was “Sorry” in scrolling letters across the screen. I told him it was OK and went off to my bed to go to sleep. When, oh WHEN will people realise that I hate, HATE the word sorry? I wonder if Mr Ex’s new girlfrienf minds the word sorry a little less than I do?

Anyways, so this morning we all woke up just fine. I gave the children Mr Ex’s birthday present and cards to give to him. He seemed pleased with his present, and he should be -it took me ages to pick it out. It crossed my mind whether he deserved a nice present, or for me to have spent so long selecting it for him. However, this was not a present from me, it was from the children so I smiled through the experience.  

Once the present giving was over, I got dressed. My hair was still silky smooth and straight from when I did it yesterday and I love when my hair looks all pretty. I went to make myself my usual morning drink. Green tea. I asked my Mum if she wanted one, she did. I asked Mr Ex if he would like a coffee from Mum and Dad’s sooper dooper coffee machine. He told me he’d love one and thankyou. I went and made the drinks. By the time I’d finished making them, my Mum was on the phone – the police had called about taking a formal statement from my sister about yesterday’s events.

I gae her her tea and headed upstairs with Mr Ex’s coffee. Got to the top of the hair and fell over!! Hit my head on the wall and landed upside down on the stairs. I wailed out in pain – my face hurt and I’d hurt my foot aswell. Mr Ex came running to check I was OK, my brother laughed and my mum tried not to laugh as she was on the phone. I was very embarrassed. I felt tears well up in my eyes when I looked at my hair. I was covered in coffee. It was in my hair and on my glasses aswell. My hair was sticky, my glasses were sticky and I smelled of coffee. I hate coffee.

So I showered and now my hair wasn’t as silky straight as it had been, but hey, I can handle tragedy. We were getting ready to go out for lunch. I was treating Mr Ex to a birthday meal with the children. He went for a shower and I got my laptop out and signed into my messenger. I wondered if Mr E would have news for me about his weekend!! Well Mr E messaged me straight away and told me about his weekend. He’d hardly seen… the target… shall we say, but he text her a bit back and forth, things still look good and he’s going to see her on his birthday night out. I would say he’s onto a winner!!

I told Mr E briefly about my weekend and my disatrous fall down the stairs, before leaving him to go for the birthday meal. Lunch was delicious and Mr Ex and I spoke quite a bit about he and Amy. I find that each time her name is mentioned it hurts a little less. Sometimes I wonder if I should just say her name out loud a hundred times before bed and see if tomorrow it doesn’t hurt anymores.

I saw my friend in town and we chatted for a bit. All in all, it’s been a good day. After the meal, I went shopping for a few nice bits. Got home at just after 5 and now I’m milling around as Mr Ex has taken Spongebob out for a few hours. So, not such a mad day, but a fun day nonetheless.

I laughed with my friend about Mr E. I’d told her about him the night before. When she came to pick me up for our night out, she asked if I’d been treating myself since losing the weight. I told her I had a new indulgence, and took her to my bedroom to see my vast collection of undies. She was shocked. She told me it was a shame that no-one would get to see them and it was at this point that I confessed that someone, somewhere had been seeing them. Then I told her about Mr E. She seemed surprised that we had no plans to take anything any further. I explained that I don’t feel for him in that way. I told her that I would have my fingers crossed all night that he was getting somewhere with the lady he was supposed to be meeting.

Anyways, so we’re in the car and Mr E comes up in conversation. My friend says “and there’s another thing I don’t get” to which I had to ask what she meant. She told me that she didn’t undertstand why I showed a complete stranger my undies - how it got to that point – and why either of us wanted to take it any further. I told her it got to that point through natural progression, and that neither of us wanted to take it further because we were happy the way we were. I told her that it was like we just both had an itch and knew how to scratch each other’s itch without leaving a mark. She said she could understand that. I told her that I was planning a life of solitude, and at the moment a “virtual” closeness is all I can do. She seemed to understand that too. She told me she was shocked I married Mr Ex in the first place. She said that it was like I was one way for ages and ages and then just announced out of the blue that I was different after all. She said it was a shock.

Anyways, after that nugget of truthfulness, I arrived at my parents house and waved goodbye to my friend. No sooner had I arrived than my sister had called my Mother in tears asking for my Dad to go and collect her. Turns out she’s had a massive row with her boyfriend and he’s dumped her. Dad dutifully drove and picked her up. When she got back she wasn’t in the mood for talking to us, and instead called her friend to come and chat with her. They went to the local park for a girly chat.

About an hour later, my sister called again in hysterics, she asked for my Dad, my brother or myself to come to the park and help her. Apparently some guy had held the two girls hostage in the park with a BB gun that they thought could have been the real thing. My sister was inconsolable, and when Dad took her to the local police station, no-one was in.

So.. armed with a description, my Dad pulled up outside the house and asked for all the men inside to accompany him to the park to go and confront her attacker. My two brothers, Mr Ex and myself joined my Dad to go and see this weasel who likes to scare 16 year old girls with guns. We got there, my Dad found him and gave him a roasting. It was purely verbal, mind you – but what a rush. The guy was an ass. A complete ass. He was very slim built, almost like me and as we all went to get back in the car, he called my brother’s name and told him to “watch out” well the five of us, my Dad included just laughed and laughed. I physically started to feel tears in my eyes, and I wondered if I may accidentally wee myself. The guy came closer to me, but stopped dead in his tracks when he saw my brother moving towards me. The guy looked right at me and said “why are you laughing, bitch?” I looked at him and told him I was laughing because he had told my brother, my big muscly brother, to watch his back. I asked him if he could just tell that my brother was shaking in his shoes. I told him he was a pathetic weasel and if anyone should look out it certainly wasn’t any of us. We all got in the car and drove home. Laughing all the way.

My sister was on the phone to the police as we got home. Literally as she put the phone down, we heard a helicopter above the house. We looked out and sure enough it was the police helicopter. It was hovering over the park, and then circling between the park and the house. I couldn’t believe they had launched the helicopter for this litte scroat that we saw.

My Dad is a very cynical man. He told me that firstly, mention the word gun and the police will sniff around, and secondly – “well it’s Sunday, isn’t it? That’s double time, they’re probably bored – lets go for a ride in the helicopter!” I had to laugh, he was right.

I laughed again just slightly when I thought of my sister. She’s OK now, laughing about it and the fact that we went and saw the guy for her. But I have to laugh just slightly – what a day for her?! She gets dumped, goes to the park for a girl chat and some sympathy, and then gets threatened with a gun! What a day for her, eh?!

I headed to the gym, and as I was walking I was thinking about Louie. I wondered if I should go to the gym.. Would I be embarrassed to see him? Would he be embarrassed to see me? Then it dawned on me.. I wanted to see Louie. To not see Louie today, to not go to the gym, or to go to the gym and for him to not be there would disappoint me. I wondered if in between the girls interrogating him and waking up this morning he’d changed his mind about me? Has he spoken to his friends about me? Have they told him that I’m not worth it? I got to the gym and saw him. He was talking to someone and I smiled and gave him a small girly wave and headed for my treadmill. I saw the way his eyes lit up just slightly when he saw me. I didn’t imagine that, did I?

Anyways, I ran my ass off for a good 40 minutes before I left. I did 7km in that time. Louie was nowhere to be seen when I left although he’d been milling around throughout my entire workout. I grabbed my stuff and headed out the door, hoping he’d be in the reception area. He wasn’t. Never mind. He must be busy. Besides, I have better things to do.

I headed into town from the gym, to do a bit of shopping. I bought some nice clothes to wear, to go with my new super dooper funky shoes that are a cross between an 80s trainer and a high heel!! I sat in my favourite little café and had a pot of tea, some home made soup and a gorgeous slice of cheesecake. I headed home soon after that.

I started to get ready. My friend and date for the evening was supposed to be with me at 5pm, but she was late and didn’t show until closer to 7. Women!! Anyways, I’d bathed, put on my make up, done my hair jewellery and contact lenses and got dressed. I wondered if my shorts were too short, I asked my friend when she arrived if I looked like a slut. She said I didn’t at all. I told her I thought that if there was ever a time to show a serious bit of leg it was then. She agreed.

We got on the train to town and then headed to my favourite club in the whole world. It’s just fab and full of 80s stuff. I love it. We got in for free after some wrangling with the bouncer about whether the picture of the fat girl on my ID was me. He let me in and told me I was looking great. What a nice guy.

So my friend and I were having a good time. We had a few drinks, we partied. It was brilliant. We met some crazy crazy drunk people and generally had a good time. I asked the DJ to play my favourite songs and he did. He was fab. And very cute too. When my friend and I went to the bar for another drink, there was a guy waiting there in a weird yellow an white striped shirt. He was quite good looking. I saw him but didn’t acknowledge him. Alarm bells went off when he let us order our drinks first even though he was at the bar first. I find it strange when people (men) do nice things “just because” There’s always a motive.

Well my friend and I took our drinks and stood talking. The guy came over to us and started chatting. His name was Graham. He was australian. He seemed a throughly nice guy. My friend and I left him to dance when the DJ played another one of my requests. A while later Graham came and found us on the dancefloor. He didn’t dance with us but stood talking to me. He was a nice guy and everything, but I was there with one friend, not a group. I wondered if he knew my unwritten rule that it’s rude to hit on a girl when she’s there with only one friend. Maybe she just wants a girly night. Graham kept putting his arm around me, and soon his friend came over. The friend had long hair and I commented that I liked it. Graham put his arm around me again and asked me if I was “teasing him” by talking to his friend? Was I trying to make him jealous? I told him I don’t play games and that if it made me happier, I liked his hair too. Graham leaned into kiss me and I dodged the kiss. I just couldn’t do it. I did consider it for a split second, but I bailed out. Graham was quite embarrassed and apologised profusely. I told him not to apologise and that I take it as a compliment when a nice guy wants to kiss me. 

Graham went off to find his friend who had now vanished and I told my friend that I neededa loo break. We went to the loos and I told her that Graham tried to kiss me. She told me she knew, she saw. I told her it was weird. She told me I should have just “snogged his face off” because he was good looking and Australian! I  told her I couldn’t possibly do that. When she asked why I couldn’t, I don’t think she was expecting a response quite like the one she got. I told her “Did you know that there are like more germs in the human mouth than on a toilet seat?” she told me she didn’t know that. I continued.. “Well I wouldn’t go into a club and lick a toilet seat, because ewww, so why would I kiss a random guy and expose myself to all those germs?!” my friend laughed.

Graham found us again not long after and said he had to leave. He asked for my number. I figured there was no harm so gave it to him. It’s not like I answer calls on my mobile usually anyways. Graham left and my friend and I continued dancing. A while later my friend’s feet were hurting so we sat down. I pulled out my phone to take a pic of her and a guy came up and offered to take a pic of both of us. I agreed and gave him my phone. He took a lovely picture. He introduced himself and his friends. They were there for this one guy’s 30th birthday and my friend and I had to laugh – he looked miserable!

We told the guys that we were there because of a celebration because I used to be fat(ter!!) and they all congratulated me and told me they’d never have guessed that I wasn’t always that skinny. The miserable guy asked me a wholly inappropriate question that I took offence to. I walked off. He followed me and apologised. We stuck with those guys for the rest of the night. They were lovely. I chatted extensively with the miserable guy. He was socially quite awkward, quite deliious and very nice. He often put his foot in it and I liked that. When they all left the club I didn’t even know if the delicious guy was single – but jeez. I would love to see him again.

I danced on until 3am and had to be dragged off the dancefloor to go home at kicking out time. I’d had a wonderful wonderful night. I hope to have more just like it.

And that was my Saturday. I had better go now, I have woken up quite early in bed with my friend. We have to get dressed so I can take her to this cute little café I know.. Have I ever mentioned it before?!

Haha!!

My mind is running at a million miles an hour, I’ve been for a run this morning, and I’m going to go to the gym and go shopping before my friend comes to pick me up this evening. I reckon I’ll buy some new clothes, and visit my favourite cute little café.

Louie is off on holiday for 10 days soon. He leaves on Thursday. He’ll be back at work on the Monday of the following week. I have decided that I will see how things go when he gets back from his holiday. Normally I would just say that nothing will happen, and I know that’s probably the better idea, but I must admit, I do quite like him. It was last night when i saw him at the pub with the girls. He was gorgeous. That one moment with him was amazing, and I miss that already. I’m going to miss him when he goes away. Anyways, I am off now to shop and take my mind off it!