Bad timing

We all know that famous saying, 'Women are from Venus and Men are from Mars' which is why perhaps I choose to put up with some of my boyfriends more unsavoury habits. It's a fact of nature after all that men haven't evolved all that far from their primitive cavemen routes! I manage to look past the toe nail picking (at least he doesn't sit in the lounge eating them like one of my male ex-housemates!) and the farting but as long as I can set certain perimeters:

1) Try to minimise the farting when I'm around - he attempts to look sheepish after the event but I know that inside he is not-so-secretly quite proud
2) Try to aim for a well ventilated place - my boyfriend thought he was onto a winner when he would do it whenever I left the room until upon my return I was hit by a wall of odour
And 3) Definitely no farting in my bed! I'll have none of this cocking of the leg & sneakily lifting up the edge of the duvet cover to subtely waft in out - your covers blown & I'm on to you!

So with these few simple rules in place I was confident that I had my man well trained - or as well as can be expected at least! Little did I know that nothing can prepare you for a fart that squeaks out just as your man is cuming (I kid you not!) In the shock and sheer horror of the moment I did not know how to react - my immediate reaction was to laugh hysterically and roll about on the floor crying to myself. Scratch that, the supposed intimate 'poist-coital' moments are not ones for laughing at the expense of your partner. So, like a trooper, I sucked it up (not literally!) aligned my face so that it didn't give the game away, screwed my eyes up & gave him a little congratulatory kiss - for the sex, not for the ill-timed fart I'd like to add! As we pulled away I gave him a few moments to rearrange & sort himself out before we fell into the customary post-sex spoon. And at this point I couldn't hold it in any longer it started as a snicker, then a splutter and then I was gone. The poor guy - he knew it, I knew it, he had hoped for a few precious moments that he had got away with it, but no! His mortified face was enough to let me know that his farting etiquette would be improving from now on in order that he hoped this unfortunate tale would never have to surface again!

Crystal

She was argueably the alpha female of our coyote pack and we hung off every sequinned word that dripped from her. Raised by her single mother and her single mother's gay best friend with a hippy-dippy free love mantra there was no other path for her except to enter a world full of glitter, leopard print and fabulousness.

Queen of the image re-invention, there were not many of us who could recall the natural hair colour of this platinum pixie-bobbed diva. With her exotic brand of foundation always smelling strangely of peanut butter and her false eyelashes thick like hairy spider legs, she resembled one of those department store Clinique make-up counter girls who wore the entire range on a daily basis. . . only it appeared that she has slept in that same make-up for at least two days. Although her skin, as far as I remember, was a pearly, milky white, she always looked like a slightly grubby street urchin where last nights Sun Shimmer had left an imprint in another man's bed.

I would always flash forward several decades down the line to a perfectly clear image of her as an old brown leathery skinned woman with perfectly coiffed (with the help of a whole can of hairspray) peroxide beehive, her tiny frail frame drowned in a floor length fur (not faux fur - controversially, rather like Cruella De Vil, she never could understand why animals shouldn't be sacrificed for the sake of fashion) coat. A cigarette holder dangled from between her rouged lips pursed like two dry withered prunes. Her clawed hands again lacquered with red polish gripped a crystal glass full of a firy amber liquid which swirls dangerously as she totters in sky high heels cladding her sheer stockinged legs. Growing old gracefully was not at option for Crystal. . . go out drawing attention to oneself with an undignified bang or theres no point at all.

Sneezing into a kettle

My sneezes are the kind that creep up on me with no hint of a warning & are uncontrollable in both force & volume. They are the kind of sneezes which when they occur in public cause all people within a 50metre radius to turn round to see what has happened to cause such a noise disturbance. (I have only ever encountered one other person, in a queue at Thorpe Park incidentally, who I felt had a more embarassing sneeze than I. Her friends rolled their eyes - I knew how she felt!) I have tried so very hard to keep it in but when this happens I feel as if I'm going to puncture a lung or cause myself to have a hernia or some such other disagreable injury. . . so I figured I was best off after all just letting my sneeze out to the rest of the world to say hello.

So it was one such typical sneeze that crept up on me the other day when I was making my best friend a cup of coffee (we were just about to head out you see on a night out & she was going to drive us in and was therefore replacing alcohol with my strongest blend of coffee). There was nowhere to hide & nowhere to turn so sneeze I must right into the depths of the kettle. And there I stood horrifired, all manner of particles clearly just having flown from my mouth into the water that I was about to boil & pour into a coffee to serve my friend. I giggled to myself more out of panic than anything. I did not know if the boiling process would remove all of my sprayed germs but I hoped that it would. So I tipped out the contaminated water, filled that kettle again, boiled away all evidence and secretly hoped for the best as I handed over the brew.

the unfortunate (sex less) existence of my cat

My cat has been the recipient of more affection today than she is used to as I think she has been in some kind of a scrap or picked up an infection as she can't open her right eye (hmm, this may require some specialist attention!). Her current sorry state got me thinking that she really is a rather unfortunate creature. She was a rescue cat & was taken away from her mother at an early age & as such when we got her she used to suckle on this fluffy nightdress I used to own as a child as if it was her mother. Then there's the fact that she has been subjected to the same flavour of Iam's cat food every day since we got her & I think this has driven the poor girl into the depths of dementia as recently she seems to forget that she has just been out will wonder round the house aimlessly before returning to the door to be let out. Or maybe. . .

. . this is all to fill the large void in her life as we hav deprived her of children. I'm no animal activist but it's all rather strange that if a woman finds out she is unable to conceive children then this is a life changing moment which has a massive impact. Yet we take this away from our pets as an everyday occurence. I recognise the need to control the cat & dog population we wouldn't want them taking over the world after all would we! but the poor thing doesn't even have it explained to her. She just falls asleep & when she wakes up she can't hav children if it were you you wud feel violated. And she must know after all. . ..

And does newtering (shes a girl - does this word apply?!) also take away sex drive?? I no you get the randy dogs who hump legs, or cushions or anything that moves but you don't really hear about horny cats do you. I reckon my cat would want to be a horny devil given the chance. She's a ginger female - very rare we were told - so apparently in the cat word ginger doesn't hold the same stigmatism! But is she now simply unphased by all those prospective bachelor cats out there, couldn't care less about the opposite sex or does she mourn the loss of being a mother. . . how sad :( Perhaps she doesn't keep loitering round the back door to be let out AGAIN because she's lost her marbles, she's simply trying to fill the times & the void in her life left by lack of sex & children!

In the future I think I would like to keep a cat or dog of my own but to let them have their full childbearing potential. I would also quite like a cleaner please (just an after thought!).

the milestone

The other day I reached a milestone in my latest relationship & it wasn't the first kiss, first time we had sex, 3 month anniversary kind of milestone. No, it was the first & hopefully last time he had walked in on me on the toilet - naked (i wud like to take this oppurtunity to explain that I was about to shower & therefore had removed my clothing - obviously)

Anyway he simply surveyed the scene in front of him before shuffling out backwards to my exclamation of 'OH!' those kind of guilty sounds that escape your mouth without you meaning them to. As the door swiftly closed and I lept after it to bolt the door fast all I could do was stand there horrified & feeling slightly violated!

I ran the shower & stood beneath the jet of water considering what angle to take with this. Should I:-

a) pretend it never happened & live on peacefully in ignorant bliss

b) avoid each other in awkward silence & see if he has the balls to address this most embarassing of subjects

or c) launch into an angry tirade ranting about lack of privacy

Never one to shy away from anything I went for a slightly toned down version of option see. So stepping out of the bathroom my towel wrapped around me I re-entered the bedroom where my boyfriend was perched on the end of the bed.

"You are a terrible boyfriend!" I exclaimed trying to make light of the subject, "What has a girl got to do to get a little privacy around here?" He held his hands up - an innocent gesture trying to ward off my attack, "I thought you were just in the shower & was coming in to surprise you. But don't worry, I still fancy you," he teased, but he had this wide-eyed look in his eye. "OH!" (there it was again escaping like that). . I buried my face in my hands wondering if he would keep getting random flash backs to that hideous hideous image of me.

I wondered if we would ever be able to get past this, if I would be paranoid that he would always be picturing me naked on the toilet for heavens sake!!! When I recounted my tale to a friend she was anything but concerned. "I think you reach that point in your relationship when you just feel completely comfortable around each other," she told me (she's been with her boyfriend for over 3 years). "I'll often be cleaning my teeth when Jim's on the toilet, or he will come in & chat to me when I'm on the toilet."

I think my expression gave the game away, I'm not sure I'll ever reach that point in a relationship where I would be happy for either my partner or myself to be present when the other is on the toilet. Some things should just be kept strictly to yourself, am I right?

Beard cream

As a result of a rather unfortunate fainting incident - long story - I have a long pink scar along my jaw bone on the right side of my face. My friends still make the 'harvey two face' and standard 'Chin up!' jokes - it's been long enough now that I can laugh. . . . just haha! It also has a rather nasty lump bit which didnt heal too well as there was a flap of skin which was too thin to be stitched, or so the rather hunky A&E doctor told me! When my mother first saw if she almost has a fit claiming it obviously hadn't been done properly & that I needed to consult someone regarding plastic surgery. I told her she was being silly & that I was going to have any form of unecessary surgery especially on my face! Anyway since then she hasn't really let in drop & has been coming up with all sorts of scar improvement suggestions.

My Nan has also obviously caught a whiff of the situation & her solution was to give me this funky yellow coloured cream in a tupperware pot that smells of old people. . . she claims she got in from her poor dear infirm, also elderly friend, she cleans for. She claims its a miracle scar cure - the only catch is that its apparently illegal in this country! so this woman's daughter brought it bak for her wen she went on holiday (probably to thailand or asia or sumwhere!!!!). . . . the BIG question is should I risk putting it on my face?!!! bearing in my nan rang earlier & i asked her how often i shud put it on so she rung up her friend & then rang me bak. Her answer was only ONCE a day & only a thin layer as (this is in her own words. . .) 'we don't want you growing a beard do we!' - you can see why i'm a little dubious!

my encounter with a green man

It's that time of year again. . .Halloween & the standard night out/house party that goes along with it. The one night of the year when you spend a ridiculous amount of time making urself look truly scary/hideous (but at the same time attempting to maintain some form of sexy which, rather unsurprisingly takes an awful lot of time, effort & skill especially when you only hav supermarket face paint to work with!)

It also proves to be a mine field for all the single girls out there. After all who knows just what you could be bringing home underneath all the masks & costumes. It must be all the unattractive peoples favourite night out of the year - wow, harsh! And last night, in true halloween form I ended up coming home with one such unknown quantity. . . the Incredible Hulk complete with all over green face paint, ripped shorts & ripped T-shirt.

The sex was amazing, I guess the exact kind of sex you wud expect to have with the incredible hulk!!! But it was the next morning the aftermath of all the glory of bringing sum1 home on halloween was fully realised. My sheets were green, there were green handprints on my walls, I looked in my bathroom mirror & i had small patches of green all over my body (it kind of looked like I had been savagely beaten & my bruises had reached that yellow/green phase), my sink & soap were covered in green where Mr. Hulk had obviously attempted to wash himself & taking a quick look at the man in my bed had obviously failed! Mr. Hulk now looked as if he has some terrible chronic disease as some, but not a lot of the green had rubbed off as he slept.

The morning after halloween perhaps the most amusing walks of shame ever as Mr. Hulk was proof & definitely to put on that extremely strange sex list. . . shouldn't every1 have one?!