The Chavtastic Snob

‘I can’t come in with you, I know I’ll do inappropriate laughing. I’ll wait here.’

Husband went off to see if there was a room available.

‘Yup. £40. I didn’t see the room, but I saw the hall, bar and breakfast room.’

‘And?’ I asked hesitantly.

‘Well, it’s pretty chintzy, but it’s cleanish,’ Husband replied.

‘Okay babe. Hey, it’s only one night.’

And all the other B&Bs we’d seen had their no vacancies’ signs in the windows.

I walked into the room and there it was – all that inappropriate laughter spewed out. The 1970s formica furniture and faded net curtains laughed right back at me. Continue reading

My First Time

Paranoia

Paranoia (Photo credit: Jordi Cucurull)

‘You shouldn’t meet up with someone you’ve met on the Internet,’ Husband advised.

I started laughing: ‘I know her real name, I know all about her life, I know where she works, and I’ve seen pictures of her.’

‘Some crazies play the long game,’ Husband teased.

‘Haha…’ But as I walked away I started picturing Billygean as a 50-year-old man, with a pot belly, and unsavoury plans for me (sorry Billygean!). Continue reading

Sorry Ma’am, one’s Britishness did not arrive

Maybe it will arrive today, in a glorious explosion, I mused. As I went through security and had my bag searched by a very young man in army uniform, I started to look out for my Britishness, my sense of national pride which had so far eluded me.

Now, I have loved the Olympics: I haven’t been so addicted that I have had an exclusive relationship over the last two weeks, but I have definitely been dating. But, despite this relationship, I haven’t felt part of the British ‘Group Hug’.

I have watched in awe as these Olympians have performed. I have been inspired and impressed by their dedication, hard work and what they can get their bodies to do. And yes, I will also Continue reading

Do you feel like a grown-up?

You would think at the age of 41 (oh my, it still hurts to say that) I would be comfortable with the label grown-up. But it’s just, well, it’s just I don’t feel like a grown-up, or rather it isn’t how I imagined it would be. Continue reading

Have you got ‘IT’?

No wine, for a month (a MONTH – is it an overreaction to cry?), the email from my nutritionist suggested; the email had other recommendations too, but they didn’t reach my consciousness – I think there was something about no Green and Black’s, but I’m not sure – NO WINE was running on repeat. NO WINE.

Since receipt of said email, I have had a rather lively internal debate over whether I can do this or not. I know, I sound pathetic don’t I? And I am slightly worried that just the thought of going without wine is causing me so much angst: what does this say about me? Have I got a drink problem? Am I seriously lacking in the willpower department? (Oh God, both of these?) Continue reading