Last night was meant to be a quiet night sat in the house sulking over my glass of wine and pondering how terrible life is. So, I’m a little confused how it turned into a rather bangin’ wild night of dancing, drinking and erm…cooking chicken.

Last night I…

• Met a gypsy in the toilets and helped her to do her hair.
• Ran away from a strange man who wanted to talk to me ‘intimately’
• Found out that the doorman is actually not Albanian and can speak perfect English after, hmm…3 years
• Danced to ‘Cotton Eye Joe’…enthusiastically.
• Pinky promised with the DJ to play Lionel…’All night looooong!’ He didn’t. Doesn’t he understand the importance of a Pinky Promise?!
• Made friends with a random drunk bald man who didn’t look dissimilar to a convict but kept smiling so it was all good.
• Climbed over a big fence in a short skirt whilst juggling two bottles of wine
• Had a paddy because I didn’t want to walk through the big dark forest in my heels
• Sat on the pavement and gave up because I was too tired to walk home anymore…
• Sat outside B’s house wondering why I was on my own. Nobody loves me you see.
• Put frozen fries on B’s foot after she fell over. Again.
• Frantically tried to find a takeaway that was open and left a suggestive voicemail for the Chinese down the road…
• Cooked chicken goujons for an ungodly fifty minutes…then didn’t even eat them
• Made B cheese on toast…she didn’t eat it.
• Generally came across as an idiot.
• Woke up in the early hours in a foam party t-shirt with my arse out. Lovely.

Pretty standard I’d say…

Arriving home in the early hours of the morning, I was trying desperately not to make a sound. But as always, whenever one tries to be silent, the complete opposite occurs. As if falling into the wall and dropping my key wasn’t loud enough, I accidentally slammed the door shut after me. The house was pitch black and silent until I heard my Mother’s strained voice shout out…”R? Is that you?! R??!!!!” No Mother, I’m a burglar who happens to have our back door key and locks up behind him…tut.

Decided to visit the local village library today in the hope of finding something intellectual to read whilst I’m at home. No such luck. Never before have I been to a library which such an abundance of strange staff. The main receptionist communicated with me mostly through grunts and as little eye contact as possible, whilst a second librarian insisted on wearing what can only be described as a sheep on top of his head whilst dancing around in the background. It was of course, very distracting. Maybe I had entered the funny farm…the sheep in the background, the piggie jack serving me…oh my days. Anyway, eventually managed to register myself and gained a little blue library card to use at my disposal. This would be much easier if there were any decent books to loan out but all I seemed to come across were Point Horror fiction books (remember those?!) and bibliographies from the likes of Teri Hatcher and Marlon Brando. Not quite the literary material I was looking for. Oh well, nevermind.

Took a detour on the way home from the library to pop into an interior shop to buy a gorgeous candle named Fairy Dust. It literally does smell twinkly and oh so pretty. I intend to have a relaxing night in my boudoir surrounded by fairy lights and fairy dust candles whilst reading Doreen Virtue and pampering myself. Maybe it’s the sunshine or maybe it’s because I feel a little more inspired career wise – but I feel like I’ve managed to let go of a few stresses and strains that have been weighing me down lately. I also always find it uplifting to receive a text out of the blue from an old friend. Especially uplifting when said message manages to make you laugh. It was from a friend who I rarely talk to anymore – mostly due to work commitments and the hectic lifestyle getting in the way. The text read: “A new report out today says that sucking cock too much can leave you with speech problems. Now I understand why you only ever text.”

Goodness me…

I had to laugh at my mum today, herself and my dad came home early from the office this afternoon. She was sat at the side of me with her feet soaking in a bowl of water. Kicking back and relaxing, she said; “We came home from the office early because it was a waste of time. I’ve got far too much to be getting on with at home. I’m too busy” Yes I can see that…She does make me laugh.

Upon finding a missed call from my Mother on my phone, I decided to call her back. The phone rang then suddenly there was an abundance of shuffling, clicking, banging….I thought she may have knocked the keys in her handbag so I started to shout. “Muuuuum! Mum! Mum, Mum, Mum, Mum…MUUUUUUMMM!!!!!!!!” There was a silence followed by the tinest, wariest answer of, “Hello?”

Me: “Mum? Hello? What happened, did you knock the keys by accident”
Mum: “Well, I had my phone in the basket, I’m in Boots…it’s gone onto loudspeaker…everybody can hear and I can’t turn it off…”
Me: “What, so…can people in the shop hear me now?”
Mum: *Whispers* “Yes..”

So by this point I thought I could really amuse myself for a little while so I decided to put on the spazziest monster voice ever…

Me: “SUSAAAAAAAAN! HALLO! HALLO SUSAN! SUSAAAAAAAAAAAAN! WOOO!!!!”

All I heard was an embarrassed laugh as my Mother swiftly cut the call then later told me the whole shop was staring as she stood there red faced with her basket pawing at the keys desperately. Oh, what ever are daughters for?

After filling my Dad in on her embarrassing shopping trip, we all got to talking about other times where I caused a rather red face. This was one of my favourites…

So, imagine this scene: It’s around 5pm on a cold wintery evening and I am around three years old. My Mother has taken me to the doctors surgery because I am suffering greatly with a bad bout of asthma. All day long I’ve been curled up on the sofa watching cartoons, too poorley to play. Imagine my Mother’s horror when we walked into the surgery and I immediately dropped to the floor and proceeded to bark at every patients feet. “I’m a dog mummy!” I’d shout, as she’d look at me embarrassed through gritted teeth and say, “Get…Up!” The only reply she got was a quick “Woof!” Oh my poor Mother. It was made even worse for her when the doctor called us in…I momentarily forgot my whole Dog act as I toddled up to him and said, “You’re an Indian aren’t you? Do you have a bow and arrow? Do you know cowboys?” Fortunately, he was very graceful about the whole situation and even played along with whole dog hoo-ha by stroking my head and feeding me pretend biscuits. Yet another memory of childhood I’m sure my Mother would love to erase forever.

Would anybody be so kind as to offer me a filthily well-paid job? One ideally that would allow me to sit writing from the comfort of my own home a la Carrie with a teacup of Earl Grey by my side? Is it really so terribly hard to find a freelance writing job online? Well, the answer to that one is, of course, YES! I am seriously considering baking my heart out all day and filling our new log cabin in the garden with deliciously wicked cupcakes and tea and running my own tea room. I would have such a lovely time – what better way to spend my days than in my kitchen whipping up delights and buttercream in my pinny whilst listening to Michael Buble on repeat! Now that would be a very satisfying, if not whale weight inducing summer.

I like my horoscope for once today:

“You could find that you have an urge to go to the country or to take a break from city life. It seems you want to get back to basics and to surround yourself with a calming environment and a soothing sense of peace. And boy, you probably need it. If you can persuade your partner to come with you, so much the better. And it need not be an elaborate excursion: even a day at the seaside will make you feel more energised. That way, you can start the next week off with less baggage and a clean slate.”

See D…lets get a move on and put our seaside plan into motion, less baggage and a clean slate is just what the Doctor ordered. Quite literally.

I have been contemplating life today, I know, such a dangerous task to behold. And I have come to the conclusion that a lot has to change. I’m starting to tire of life. Maybe that’s because I’m being forced into resting for six weeks and granted, one, even two days of being lazy is rather nice. But when you venture into days four and five, Jeremy Kyle starts to take its toll on your mental health. I feel that I am slowly becoming a complete and utter bum. I seriously need to get rid of this ridiculous rash and golf ball eye so that I may join the people in normal civilization once again and walk down the street without having to wear massive shades a la Gaga. I’m actually feeling excited for the day when I can venture out and buy my own newspaper from the corner shop or breeze into Starbucks for a latte without a confused child pointing at my face and asking, ‘Mummy, what is wrong with that woman?’ I feel that I’ve used my lazy time well…aside from catching up with missed episodes of Waterloo Road and baking all day, I’ve managed to; do a little uni work, email all of my old friends I’d lost contact with, clean my whole room out and send clothes to the charity shop, give myself a pedicure, write for a website, finish reading my book and apply for jobs. Yawn. Medal?

I have also come to the conclusion that I completely miss D. A lot! I miss sitting watching Russell Howard and sniggling away like two little school children whilst eating jam sandwiches and drinking tea. I know it doesn’t sound much but that is literally like chicken soup for the soul to me. It manages to pick me up to no end. I so need my Paxman fix soon or I may die of complete and utter boredom…and lack of play time, of course. Anyway, time for another cup of tea before I fall to sleep and dream of shakey jake, butterflies and lakes.

Oh my goodness. If I thought my eye couldn’t get any worse after yesterday, I was sorely mistaken. I woke up to my Mum stood over me gasping (never a good sign) and a strange heavy feeling over my eye. I managed to get out of bed and stagger to a mirror and open my one good eye. Oh no. I now have one eye that is quite similar to a red golf ball. I literally couldn’t open it. Imagine you are in town on a Saturday night and see a drunkard trying to text – they all don the same squinty eye, head back approach…this is what I look like. I find this terribly unfair as I am not even drunk. Maybe if I was drunk I’d find this all a little amusing. Or not. It’s almost as if I’ve been involved in a punch-up in my sleep. Anyway, had to be sent right to A&E after a quick inspection off my doctor. You know it’s a bad day when you have to walk around hospital in one of those vile gowns with your backside out. It’s even worse when you are wearing 5 inch stiletto heels with said attire. And even worse still when you have a Quasimodo eye. Enough said.

Anyway, was given enough medication to knock me out for the afternoon so really, today has been rather boring. Apparrently I woke up mid medicine slumber and had a little panic that I hadn’t decorated the cupcakes I’d made yesterday properly. It’s strange that I can be in a hospital bed hooked up to a heart machine, yet my main concern is the cupcakes I’m baking. Kind of shows where my priority lies….in my kitchen!

So, in a bid to make today more exciting, I am now tucked up in bed with a glass of port, a bar of chocolate and Notting Hill. If Spike can’t cheer me up, nobody can. Nice firm buttocks…

I woke up this morning and nearly went into cardiac arrest when I saw my face in the mirror. Seriously, if there were any auditions for an authentic Quasimodo, I would get the part hands down solely on looks. I have two huge red eyes, not dissimilar to terminator style, ahem, and huge swollen lips that would so rival Angelina’s. Time for some serious damage control.

Have decided to use my time today on working through the mountain of lovely assignments I have for university and have worked myself into the ground…okay, I’m totally lying. I got a mental block and decided to hit up the kitchen with my baking talents instead. So now I have; Zero completed assigmnets, Eight baby fairy cakes, Three butterfly buns and One victoria sandwich cake.

I feel extra happy today as I heard that my flowers to D’s mum were well received. I love that feeling you get when you manage to brighten somebody’s day a little. ‘A friendly look, a kindly smile, one good act and life’s worthwhile.’ I love that quote, it’s so, so true. Anyway, I have the contented ‘butterflies in your chest’ feeling that one can only get when they’ve done something nice for somebody else. I guess I just care a lot about other people, especially those close to the people I love and care about. Anyway, I wish her a speedy recovery and lots of love and smiles.

As usual, the weather here has turned into a murky, rainy mess. Just the way I like it! What makes it even better is that I can sit in the window snuggled up in my blanket with a teacup and saucer of Earl Grey and watch the lightening and thunder crashing outside. It’s definitely the right weather to watch a scary film later…although I’ll definitely need company to do that. It’s not much fun when you have to stop the Texas Chainsaw Massacre halfway through and put Love Actually on just so you dare leave the comfort of the sofa to make a cup of tea again.

Why, when given the chance upon a plate, would one choose to cheat? I’ve been watching things about this today and it really grates on me. Obviously, I am of the female sex but I won’t be pinning the cheating solely on the males. No. Some ladies, if I can call them that, are even worse. It really winds me up how anybody could possibly have it within them to go off and cheat and betray the person they are with or supposedly love. Sick. How could you possibly look that person in the eye again or even worse, lie? Another thing I don’t understand is why men…yes men, are drawn to girls who sleep around and have the ‘easy’ reputation. They tend to downgrade when it comes to the person they’re cheating with. Where the hell is the class? Wake up for Christ sake guys! Why have the burger when you have the steak at home? I suppose this topic has annoyed me even more because recently, a friend of mine was cheated on for no other than the local bike. Sort your lives out filthy cheaters!

Anyway…had another infuriatingly ‘off’ day consisting of another collapsing episode and lots of tears. Decided to have another long bubbly bath and a film night with jelly, custard and strawberries to make myself happy. It worked for all of fifteen glorious minutes.

Had another night filled with drama with the girls. Lots of arguments, tears, wine and erm…cake. Decided to leave at a respectable 12pm. Good grief.

Oh Mr Paxman, I love you oh so very much. Like you would not believe. Could it be the fact that you look like a cute little badger with a sting like a bee? Or could it be the combined *sigh* and eyeroll that I’ve come to adore so very much? Yawn…I am SO bored of this. Whatever it is, you have me hooked. Line. And. Sinker.

I’m currently sat with the biggest cup of tea, watching The 10th Kingdom with my Pap and waiting for the fattest, juciest steak I have ever seen in my life to finish cooking. Then I intend to rip into it like there’s no tomorrow. Fierce. Reminds me of when D said he could imagine a girl we know sat on the wall next to her van with a pack-up and her arse hanging out. Manly much but I couldn’t care less.

Have been shopping with my cousin today on the hunt for the perfect bridesmaid dress. I found it in the shape of a Claret Lamore Satin dress with a boned bodice, gathered at the waist and cinched with a diamante clasp. Perfect for a winter wonderland wedding. It was a hard decision between the perfect shape or the perfect colour…the colour won out because it was just beautifully striking. Either rich, deep claret or orange tinted strawberry…definitely the claret. Maybe because the name reminds me of the French Bordeaux wine. Hmmm.

Whenever I get asked who inspires me, I always automatically seem to think of some celebrity or somebody who holds at least a small amount of fame. Of course, I have my Audrey Hepburn inspiration, my David LaChapelle inspiration….even my Camilla Morton inspiration. But the one person who inspires me most of all isn’t famous, or even well known. He doesn’t star in movies or sing on a stage. He isn’t a millionnaire or anybody with blue blood. No. He’s one of my best friends…and he blows me away. Have you ever had anybody in your life who makes you get that tingle of inspiration through your whole body just by saying a few small words? Well…I have that right now and I love it. Everything he does inspires me to be better and makes me want to push myself further and higher, and the best part about it? He’ll support me and encourage me the whole way. So, the next time I get asked who my inspiration is, I’ll be sure to say him. I hope he realises just how much he influences and inspires me every single day. And just how proud I really, truly am.

I hate those days where your heart doesn’t feel quite complete and you feel unsure about where to turn next. Then you think of a certain somebody and everything seems to be alright all over again. I hate the feeling of butterflies that I can’t seem to shake from fluttering around in my stomach but at the same time, I love it. And I hate that I can miss somebody even when they’re sat right next to me.

How do you possibly get somebody to open their heart up to you again after they got burned doing it once? How do you make somebody realise that to you, they mean the absolute world and make you feel like you never want to leave them? How do you possibly show that person how much they really do mean and how much they alter your life every single day? I hate the fact that I don’t have the answers and that things are always hanging on the tiniest, most fragile thread. But most of all, I hate myself for letting it all happen.

After events of a few nights ago, I feel even more drawn to something and know that I can’t just let it go all that easily. I’ve given up on things way too easily in the past and learned that I should fight much more for what I believe in.

Maybe I’m just feeling sorry for myself because I have the filthiest cold and chest I’ve had in a good while. For the first time ever, I’ve had to call into work sick and I feel horrible about it! I will certainly take the advice of D ‘da boss’ and consume more than my bodyweight in four hourly doses of Lemsip whilst sniffing on Olbas oil and smothering myself in Vicks. Yes…I am so, so sexy. Such a snivelling hot mess I cease to amaze myself.
What I really fancy, apart from YOU, is a good film with lots of chocolate and plenty of hot cups of tea along with a nice snuggly blanket and fluffy slippers. I really hate the feeling you get in your head when you have a cold. I’m dosey enough at certain times without having to deal with an extra fluffy bubble of air in my head making hearing and balancing even more difficult than usual. Oh well, lots of sleepy time and hot drinks until this nasty cold goes away.

I saw the cutest thing today. I was sat in my room watching 90210 and heard such a commotion outside, I went to the kitchen window and saw my next door neighbour who is pretty old, grey and sweet, pedalling on a bike in the street shouting to his wife…”Woohoo! Look! I’m doing it!” She was stood in front of him with a video camera laughing and shouting “Well done!” How sweet is that?! They look about seventy yet it’s like when a five year old manages to ride their bike for the first time with the proud parents looking on. It made me smile sooo much. I hope that I’m like that when I’m older.