Trust

Call me gullible, call me stupid - but every now and then I flick through Jonathan Cainers site and read my stars. For some reason - I can relate to them. He had a new tarot thing on where you could get your cards read so, to heck with it, I thought - for £4.75 lets have a reading.

So, I did - you see you have to concentrate and see clarity before you ask your question. Now I could be a realist here, like my good friend W, and start to think well these things rely on probability etc etc. However, I could also let my trust lie in these for once and see what happens. Afterall, with the element of probability, for example the lottery, to win - you have a one in 40 million chance - well something like that - ok there's the maths - the more tickets you buy the greater chance you have to win. But what is the probability that you are going to be that one in 40 million - it could be anyone - what is the probability that you will choose certain numbers? An element of fate must also play a part.

My dear friend W, say I suffer from pollyanna syndrome where whenever something bad happens, I try to look at it through rose tinted glasses. I have argued this with him. In order for something bad to happen, it could be fate, it could be yourself what you have done to bring yourself to these circumstances, and therefore with the logical side, you learn from your mistakes which has brought you to these circumstances, and you go forth without repeating those same mistakes again. You learn from your experiences - isn't that what is all about?

There is no use staying with the past. What has happened, has happened, and you get on with life. The other scenario is - for example, a bird flying past has done an enormous white shite on your head. To take the former into consideration, your mistakes to lead to this event would be

- that you left the house

- that you didn't hold some gps navigation system on you at all times, to dissect the area to make sure no birds fly in your zone.

-that you didn't constantly look above you to make sure no bird was in your path

- that you didn't shoot all birds or create some kind of virus that wipes the whole bird population out of existence.

This would, in turn, lead to an obsessive compulsive disorder - you would turn into a wacko.

Even if you had done all these things, who cannot say that a dog willl piss on your shoes one day whilst your walking past. So, in part an element of risk/fate is always involved.

What is risk? What is fate?

Risk.
–noun

1.Exposure to the chance of injury or loss; a hazard or dangerous chance: It's not worth the risk.

2.Insurance. a. the hazard or chance of loss; b. the degree of probability of such loss; c. the amount that the insurance company may lose; d. a person or thing with reference to the hazard involved in insuring him, her, or it; e. the type of loss, as life, fire, marine disaster, or earthquake, against which an insurance policy is drawn. –verb (used with object)

3. To expose to the chance of injury or loss; hazard: to risk one's life.

4. To venture upon; take or run the chance of: to risk a fall in climbing; to risk a war. —Idioms

5. At risk, a.in a dangerous situation or status; in jeopardy: families at risk in the area of the weakened dam; b.under financial or legal obligation; held responsible: Are individual investors at risk for the debt part of the real estate venture?

6. Take or run a risk, to expose oneself to the chance of injury or loss; put oneself in danger; hazard; venture.

Fate
–noun

1. Something that unavoidably befalls a person; fortune; lot: It is always his fate to be left behind.

2. The universal principle or ultimate agency by which the order of things is presumably prescribed; the decreed cause of events; time: Fate decreed that they would never meet again.

3. That which is inevitably predetermined; destiny: Death is our ineluctable fate.

4. A prophetic declaration of what must be: The oracle pronounced their fate.

5. Death, destruction, or ruin.

6. The Fates, Classical Mythology. the three goddesses of destiny, known to the Greeks as the Moerae and to the Romans as the Parcae.

So in essence, we can predetermine risk, by heck - the laws of project management - but we cannot predetermine fate.

Anyway back to the tarot - I won't say what the question I asked was - but what I will say is these - to summarise - I have always been on my guard - to ensure that I act in accordance to certain things and certain situations. I have always been scared to take risks. I have always mistrusted. And that is where the core problem lies. I am constantly worrying about what could happen and constantly worrying about the negative outcomes that in the end they will happen. For once, I need to relax, go with the flow, take each day as it comes, and let myself be pleasantly surprised. More importantly, I need to start to relax and start to trust people - afterall if I can trust a stupid tarot card reading, I should certainly be able to place my trust in things alot more? If I don't start to trust things more, I will hold myself back - I may never experience some of those wonderful things that could happen if I didn't hold back.

Bills

Well just finished calculating all the bills and sorting everything for council tax payment tomorrow. Hate doing this - but - has to be done!

Had a haircut at Toni and Guys (the first time in Edinburgh) and I must admit the guy who cut my hair did a fabulous job and was so kind - I was so happy, I gave him a £10 tip - he was so shocked and surprised - didn't want to take it at first - but I told him to as I was really happy with my hair. Definately recommend getting a guy to cut your hair if your a gal - they normally end up doing a great job. Crikey -I was so shocked - total turnaround from the Toni & Guys in Glasgow where the midget mod/punk bitchy girl stylists charge you twice as much and stand round you expecting a huge tip . I guess they have to fuel their coke habits in some way.

Had a chat with W last night with respect to my dilemma - he thinks I'm point blank stupid and I should text B and invite him for a drink and if the whole world starts to gossip then so be it.

I mentioned that I thought it would be bad etiquette - it wouldn't be fair on R - he told me the whole world is unfair and I should do things which put me first for a change. So if I wanted to go out for a drink I should go. Simply go -

The other thing that was bugging me was that I wanted a clean break from Glasgow and that arena of people - the reason I moved to Edinburgh was to start afresh on a new slate. Oh I don't know - I appear to find an excuse for everything. I can say that after living in Edinburgh for a month, I went back to Glasgow for a couple of hours for work. I felt such a distaste and sense of displeasure about the place that I was so happy to have moved out. Glasgow wasn't for me. I knew that first month in 1998 when I first moved there. Edinburgh on the other hand is such a delight.

Trying to figure out where we are going to spend New Years -we've decided on doing a pub crawl starting at the Festival Tavern and then heading off to the jazz club afterwards.

Right - quiet one - going to head off to bed now and do my chores for tomorrow.

Bills

Well just finished calculating all the bills and sorting everything for council tax payment tomorrow. Hate doing this - but - has to be done!

Had a haircut at Toni and Guys (the first time in Edinburgh) and I must admit the guy who cut my hair did a fabulous job and was so kind - I was so happy, I gave him a £10 tip - he was so shocked and surprised - didn't want to take it at first - but I told him to as I was really happy with my hair. Definately recommend getting a guy to cut your hair if your a gal - they normally end up doing a great job. Crikey -I was so shocked - total turnaround from the Toni & Guys in Glasgow where the midget mod/punk bitchy girl stylists charge you twice as much and stand round you expecting a huge tip . I guess they have to fuel their coke habits in some way.

Had a chat with W last night with respect to my dilemma - he thinks I'm point blank stupid and I should text B and invite him for a drink and if the whole world starts to gossip then so be it.

I mentioned that I thought it would be bad etiquette - it wouldn't be fair on R - he told me the whole world is unfair and I should do things which put me first for a change. So said I would text at some point - he's right.

Trying to figure out where we are going to spend New Years -we've decided on doing a pub crawl starting at the Festival Tavern and then heading off to the jazz club afterwards.

Right - quiet one - going to head off to bed now and do my chores for tomorrow.

Married Guys

Just been out for a couple of drinks with a workmate and discussed the normal work prevalities and relationships. Came back home, stuffed my face with rye bread, bresola and camembourg and received a message from the dating ads from a married guy. My response back was - hey - your married - best not to proceed further.

He also had kids.

Which comes to the next question - why do married men with kids insist on finding a fling through the bar or dating ads?

Why? You are married - you have kids - COMMUNICATE - get a divorce before you go on one on these things. Don't bring someone into your complicated world.

No More Fake Guccis

I took today to reflect over yesterday's events. A brisk walk to the shops and looking through the sales and I kept thinking to myself - why am I not allowing myself to do the things I want just because there is someone in the corner bitching behind my back. I have always withheld from doing something just in case so in so says this and so and so says that. By the time I reached the middle of Princes Street - I was in full blown anger stomping mode.

During my breakup with R, his sister and her bestmate had said to him, they didn't understand why someone like me works so hard - they coudn't understand that me - actually loved what I did and was prepared to work more than the 9-5.30 weekly routine. So they basically told my ex that basically I was shit at everything hence why I work longer than the normal hours or I was working the normal hours but someone else was involved. Every so often sweet nothings were whispered in his ear and every so often the 'Hi L, oh you look so wonderful' in that false sickly sweet note that makes you want to excuse yourself and become bulimic. I got an email from her the day I moved out - Oh and his mother even phoned - one month after we broke up and they decide to call - it was like their last attempt to dig a knife in my back. I deleted the email and on the phone - I was polite - said my goodbyes and wished them all the best.

You see it always seemed to amaze me how these people would pretend to their best friends that they were the best thing on sliced bread but were so quick to slag them off when their backs were turned. For example, R's sister - well she had a good friend since school that was the first of their group of friends to get married. Amazing how one person gets married they all want to get married and pop kids. Well R's sister had just broken up with a long term boyfriend at the time. Her friend getting married had said to her 'Don't worry, it'll be your turn soon'.

Now I don't think her friend was being spiteful here. But a year after she got married I was sitting at the table of 16 people talking to R's sister who had no qualms in letting everyone know that this girl's husband was cheating on her even before they got married with another one of their best friends. The thing that really got me was - she had no qualms to discuss and publicise this matter with everyone - except her friend. Me, it's none of my business - I would not mention it to my friend unless she had a whiff and decided something was up. Otherwise, it's not my business to discuss - either with my friend or anyone else for that matter.

There were many occasions and many different scenarios - point being that I learned not to discuss my personal business with these people - it was another way of becoming a Z list celebrity who had fallen face first in the mud. Every so often, I would get invited on the girly weekend, and always I was asked the personal questions, ones that I chose not to discuss and would tell them so and change the subject. You see, my personal life is my private life and having someone come up to you pretending they care and then once you turn your back take great pride in publicising your matters, well quite frankly those type of people can fuck off.

So you see, when the whole episode of me supposedly stalking B took forth, they took great delight in cackling their gossip left right and centre. I was even asked at a party - have you seen B lately - to which I retorted - no , I haven't and quite frankly I'm not interested in talking to him if he he spends his time spreading such ridiculous shit about me. I felt I had to stand up for myself - fuck - I was trying to defend myself against something I didn't do. I really wouldn't be surprised if one of those people in that group of friends decided to stir something up.

Anyway, point being here, is that I think too much and by the time I reached the bottom of Princes Street. I was fuming. I was letting what people were saying and thinking getting in the way of how I chose to deal with my everyday life. I was angry because I was letting this happen. You see, at the end of the day realised. Fuck them. Fuck the lot of them. Why should I care what they think about me. These people who pull you down. I let them govern the decisions I make in my life. They start to make you feel so insecure that your not good enough, not smart enough, not pretty enough, not .. the list goes on. These people are not friends like the few true ones that I have - and those true ones - they accept me warts and all - they don't judge, they say what they feel straight to your face. There's no beating round the bush. If I do something wrong - they let me know. And as I reached the bottom of Princes Street - I felt so lucky. I may not be surrounded my millions and trillions of people, I may not be Miss Popular, but I am lucky to have those few good friends. And those few people are more precious than surrounding yourself with the fake Gucci's of friendship. I was so lucky indeed.

Jonathan Cainer

Ok - So tonight I'm writin two blogs - I went out ot the pub thinking I could get a quiet drink whilst reading my paper. Trouble is at the bottom end of Leith that doesn't work - apparently it means your readyfor business.

So went home after being succumbed to men sitting beside me flicking their bloody lighters - Scotland is a no smoking zone so why is a guy sitting there flicking his light next to his groin - not once - not twice - I can tell you for the umpteeempth time. I had to keep my eyes stared ,reading at the queens Xmas day speech. Grotesque.


I left my full glass on wine there I only had two sips - and the wine was foul anyway. I went home.

But in those last two minutes, I read my star sign done by Jonathan Cainer,'

Aries (Mar 21 - Apr 20)

'A FRIEND who is sometimes much nearer than one who is at hand. 'Is not the mountain far more awe-inspiring and more clearly visible to one passing through the valley than those who inhabit the mountain?' It's not always easy to find inspiration in the overly familiar. When you stand back and look from a distance,though you often realise much more about what's truly good in your world. Today brings precious perspective. It also brings a timely reminder about a true friend.'

I'm acutally starting to realise maybe those words could be true.

Alice in Wonderland

Well, it's Boxing Day - Imanaged to sleep over Xmas Day and sleep over Boxing Day - wanted to peruse the sales at 12 but then gotup and thought bugger this and went back to bed.

Got up at 5 - had a shower - straightened my hair and got a text from an unknown number.

'Merry Christmas to Ye! Heading up leith for ales if you are about '

Texted back,

'Sorry - who are u?'

Got,

'Wascally Wabbit', back.

Five minutes later another text came through,

'B'.

Well I can tell you I really fancied a pint (actually to be honest a glass of wine wouldn't go amiss, but then I thought to myself, hang on a minute Ms. Stadler, we've been here before - we've nto deciphered this whole episode of stalking and to tell you the truth - out of all honesty, even though my boyfriend and I broke up I still felt some loyalty to him. I mean you don't do that to your ex. I remember him saying,

'It is going to break my heart when you start going out with someone else'

and I broke into tears when he said this. So no matter how much I had cared for my friendship with B, my head was saying to me, well what if it was B spreading all those rumours? Can you really trust him? I mean - we're just friends but if R found out about this - a drink between friends - crikey - all hell would break loose - before you know it I'm going to end up being called that 'finion thing by his friends and family. Oh Bloody hell.

It sounds terrible, I know - but could I really trust him - if I went out for a pint - who knows all these things could get spreaded about me and B which weren't true - as always - but things like that you don't want to get back to your ex -yep - their untrue - so your thinking who the fuck cares - your probably even thinking my ex isn't going to care. Maybe I'm too fuckin nice. Jesus.

So I texted back,

'Oh Sorry! Merry XMas! Little Alice's liver is feigning defeat tonight - perhaps another time - have a good one'

and got back.

'Ha Ha - No Probs'

Safe and Boring. OK, after getting into the shower, doing my hair, having a glass of vino calapso I then felt - you know what I do want to go out. I'm sitting here considering going to that grotty bar across the road and having a pint. Damn me being Catholic - I mean I don't practice - but hell I start to feel guilty even when I haven't done anything wrong. I'm actually considering texting back and saying - you know what bugger this where are u. But I can't - reason being - even going out for a pint with a mate - crikey - I've broken up with my ex - it's been three months - I know we'll never get back together - I don't want to get back together - I've started to feel that kick in my soul that I once had before - that seemed to die and go away into the last years of my relationship. My God, my life is going so well - but here I am feeling - I owe this to my friend - my ex - now typing this and rereading this, I'm thinking, 'Hang on a mo, Miss Stadler - r u stupid?' Fuck - I need another glass of wine.

I mean if his whole episode of stalking business never came forth then gladly I would go out for a drink - but how am I to know the truth here - this business between R and B - great they'd make a good soul tune - anyway - who the fuck do I believe here?

Regrets

I've had a couple of hours here now on Xmas Eve where I've just been sitting and thinking. Now I know too much thinking for me is not good. But, these couple of hours were just thinking if I had done things differently in particular situations in the past would the outcomes be the same or would they be different. I know I can't go back and change the past - but being the New Year coming up and it being 2008, I want to be able to learn from my mistakes so I don't repeat them. So here are things which I would of done differently;

I wouldn't have slammed the phone down on my mother one morning in the lab in early 1999. I received a letter from her a week later to say that she was going on holiday somewhere for a long time and not to bother contacting her. So me, being me thought this was a ploy just to get me to call - and angrily I did. You see we fell out a year back - I never told her I was going to go to Glasgow to do a PhD. She found out from one of my work colleagues. Her last words to me before I left to go to Glasgow were - Don't go to Glasgow - you'll make the biggest mistake in your life. I guess I did. Anyway - I made that phone call only to find out that she rented the house out - to this day - the same people are renting that house - an architect oddly enough. Her words to them was that she was going to stay with her daughter in Edinburgh. I don't know whether it's fate but eight years later I have now moved to Edinburgh. To this day, I don't know where she is. I thought I had found her at one point, but it turned out to be a woman with the same name and birthdate who oddly enough was also Polish but it wasn't her. Crikey, I delivered cards and flowers to this woman - she must of thought someone was stalking her. So there you go. I'm not going to go into why we really fell out in the first instance - that is another barrell of fish altogether - but my biggest regret in life - not being able to say I'm sorry to her. And not being able to say thank you to her for being the best mother a child could have in the world. My biggest regret is not having the chance to let her know that.

Will finish there as need to go but no doubt will have more to add tomorrow.

Thanks

Well I have to say I've been taken aback.

I sent out all my Christmas cards out on the 22nd at 5pm - just got to the postoffice and a grouchy clerk served me - wouldn't even put them in the post office box for me - made me go to the post box on the corner to post them so I thought hey - told me they wouldn't arrive before Xmas unless I wanted to spend seven quid posting each one. As always me I thought - everyone will get their cards late - as usual. But low and behold they turned up on everyone's doorsteps the next morning.

So to my surprise at 10pm this evening, as I was cleaning my toilet - I received a text - from my ex - thanking me for the Xmas card and wishing me a very merry xmas from him and the wee one ( the wee one being our cat Rupert). I burst into tears.

You might think - me soppy - not gotten over it - true I haven't gotten over it - it takes time. But you see the reason I burst into tears was because this was the first time - the first time in six years of going out with him and the aftermath that he actually said thank you to me on his own accord. Without anyone standing there prodding him - without me having to go into a huge huff - without me having to spend a fortune on Barbour jackets - he did it just like that - and that - out of everything and all the Merry Xmas' - meant alot.

Cabbages

After a indepth msn chat with my mate W, this morning (yes we made up - apparently sarcasm doesn't work well both ways on the net), I felt compelled to write the following in response to my blog yesterday.

W had gone to a singles Xmas party evening last week. I moaned to him about what the selection of guys was like on these dating sites. I mean, the last message I received was from userid georgeprat, 28 and living in Edinburgh who wrote;

'Hello you sound sort of ok and live near so would be conieniantly placed for having sex with. However you are 30 and being a drunken smoker may have aged poorly. Why do you not have a picture and do you still look acceptable? If you meet these reasonably low criteria do you want to have sex.'

Yes George, you are indeed a prat.

DELETE. DELETE. Fly spray on my keyboard. DELETE.

W decided to inform me of the usernames that gals use on these sites. There was me thinking we were sensible. Apparently not.

Ok here are just a few to wet the senses;

Sexygirl
Golddigga

and wait oh wait for it

Cabbages - yes cabbages - please girls what gal in their right mind calls themselves cabbages. Well apparently W said she was more like Sauerkraut.

Point taken.

guys gals - one all.

Rabbits

Oh the bees in my head have departed - what bliss it feels this morning! I have decided to use the wee cash I was given by my boss for Xmas and invest in a vibrator. Now some may ask - why? Well because of this. I have now joined more than 10 dating sites and all responses I get seem to be from incapacitated deranged pestulent things - I'm not going to apologise here but really when you join a dating site there is some kind of decorum that one follows. So far I have bee emailed,

''Well hello there - you have a photo and whereabouts from Edinburgh are you from?'

OK, well you might think - not bad - give the guy a break. Well not when he's divorced, earning less than £8,000 a year and is uneducated. Apologies but from three simple facts I have concluded the guy's on the dole; in his previous relationship, his ex-wife was the breadwinner and his place was sitting on the sofa watching the footie and drinking cans of Tennants. So, rather than respond, I just politely ignored the email. To which I get two subsequent emails from the same person,

'U sound nice - no photo thou!'

to

'Where's my photo babes x'

At that point I pressed my block button - do not call me babes you pestulent scumbag.

I might seem like a complete and utter bitch here but quite frankly I'm 30 and when your mailbox get's plugged up with mail from the Sexyone, Caveman, and Willy12" whose mugshots look like Fred West well personally it's no wonder there are so many single woman out there at my age who are lesbians or at this moment, are heading out to Ann Summers this Friday afternoon and purchase themselves a vibrator.

Aches and Pains

Had my work's Xmas do last night - I think I broke a rib. I also think well I will rephrase that - I KNOW I drank too much vodka.

It was great fun - but was rather drunk - saw a cute guy in the corner and thought I'd write my number on a piece of paper. Suddenly my friend went up to chat to him. Oh crikey - it turned out that he probably had a girlfriend. Then hold on his friend came along and mentioned that he was interested. He was playing so hard to get that I just uped and left - sorry but what is it with men thinking they are the cream of the crop and expecting you to have to fling yourself at them left right and centre. I don't want that in my life - I'm tired of playing games.

I woke up this morning to a dreaded hangover and I think I bruised my rib - my bum also hurts. Apparently, I fell down a couple of times. I am going to hide my face from shear embarrasement. Oh well, it is Xmas.

Something weird happened to me on Friday night - very weird indeed - infact freakily weird.
After I finished work, I decided to meet up with some workmates in the local pub. Upon entering, it was jam packed, and now that the smoking ban came in - smelt of wee. Disgusting. After a polite chit chat with my boss about ebay (I'm an ebayoholic - he prefers to be caught out shopping in Harvey Nichols and turns his nose on ebay slightly). I decided the whench of wee was getting too much and promptly left the vodka and diet coke (it was starting to infuse the external aroma) and jumped in a taxi home. After a discussion with the taxi driver (he told me that the smell of wee comes from drunk men who prefer to drip dry) I poured myslef another vodka and diet coke at home and checked my emails.

Let me explain, the night before a good mate who I haven't been in contact with for ages - sent me an MSN and text to check out page 90 in the January issue of Glamour. A good pal in university, he was always networking and keeping up to date with futures and the stock market. Needless to say he got himself a rather plush job in the city - howevever it all seemed to go pearshaped - don't know what happened - or the exact story - but it all went a tad pearshaped. I think the city robbed him of his personality - he appears to be too serious now and I am seriously considering whether the city drove him to a nervous breakdown.

Anyway - off I went to buy an issue of Glamour to find the following on page 90:

WE'RE TOO RICH TO GET MARRIED
These seven men are handsome, succcessful millionaires, but far from finding their wealth a bonus, it's proven to be a barrier to love. Could you be the one to change that?

"I'M LOOKING FOR AN ALL ROUNDER"
W, 31 is a freelance financial technology consultant from Chelsea

"My friends say I'm fussy, but I just want an attractive woman with a personality to match. I've worked hard for my money and make no apologies about spending it; my biggest extravagance was blowing £10,000 on a box of cigars. I hang out in M1nt, an exclusive London club that I part-own, However, having grown up on a council estate I like my pint at my locla,m so I'm looking for a girl who is an all-rounder.

I'm out of the country alot so I often meet women in hotel bars. I was in a New York bar recently and I got my Amex card to pay for the drinks and a girl asked,"Where's the black one?", meaning the AMex Centurion which has no credit limit. I'm not averse to treating a girl well but I don't like it when it is expected. I'm a self made man and the woman I spend my life with will be someone who doesn't expect handouts."

Right - my dear old me here did the usual thing of writing before thinking. You see I wrote a jokey email to him as follows;

"OK - just got the copy of Glamour (the ladies size I might add all the large copies were gone - so your picture is bijou in comparison to normal) . You don't really look all that happy - maybe it's a good thing I got the bijou version as the larger one might be quite scary and I would have to run for cover - You actually look constipated - maybe you smoked too many cigars. Maybe you drank too much tea... "

(n.b. we were msning about teabagging one day of which I did not know what the term meant - I was refered to wikipedia to look it up )

"... who knows.. but you actually look quite grumpy. Carrot juice my boy - carrot juice! Will spruce up that sallow complexion and put a sprint in your walk. Does wonders!"

"Ok, made me laugh.. :

Self Made Milliionaire. (well maybe you are - who knows?) - careful you might get mugged by 'those smelly people';

(I thought he'd take this as a joke - apparently he did not as we see later)

Co-owns a club. - you forgot to add you co-own it with 250 other members but nice touch

(I had checked out the M1nt site - apparently any member who joins becomes a shareholder)

and meet alot of women in hotel bars. ----- er dodgy...

Other than that - fantastic editorial - sure you'll get yourself a catch shorty!"

I had meant the above all in a light hearted joke - he should know me all two well that I like a bit of banter and piss take but really - not to take my comments seriously.

Anyway I received the following reply:

"L,

I didn't think that Glamour had any 'big' copies. I thought the whole focus of their marketing strategy was to emphasize the 'handbag' sized magazine format! Don't you know anything about photography? 'Happy pictures' are 'out'! (Or perhaps we look 'fed-up' after our encounters with money grabbing women). Actually we were told exactly how to pose and look. Those eight photos took an entire day to shoot. We were caked full of make up and then fed lots of alcohol. They took hundreds of shots! Personally, I reckon the photographer was going for the 'mean and moody' look for most of us. (She was a cute feisty little blond thing... but I digress).

As for the editorial.

1. I haven't found any of those 'smelly people'. I tend to avoid anyone with bad personal hygiene.

2. I do co-own a club! They are the ones who omitted the other owners. Anyway, I doubt that your average Glamour Magazine reader in the middle of Norwich/Wales/Essex will understand the difference anyway.

3. I meet a lot of women in bars... but they tend to be other business women in 5 star hotel bars. Where do you meet your men? The local Sainsbury's or the bingo club? At the moment I am working on an English estate agent and a lovely Polish cocktail girlie. How about you? Where are all your men?

W"

Oh dear - I thought - I am in the doghouse - suddenly I felt really bad - I had taken my pisstake too far. He was right - here I am Miss 30 something single who is currently scanning the speeddating section for Xmas - and jut my luck I would probably bump into Mr. Right over the frozen peas section only to find that Mr. Right is married with 2.4 children and is gay. Suddenly I thought to myself - I deserved it.

So I wrote back , tail in between my legs,

"Oh Dear,

I apologise - sorry, I didn't realise you would take the last email to heart - I was only having a joke - oh dear. Apologies, honestly - I wave my wee white hankie in surrender!

I must learn to think before I write . Bad L!

W my darling - you looked very handsome in your ad - you are a great catch and I am sure you have many women falling at your feet and many many more responding to the Glamour magasine.

Will sign off now before I dig myself an early grave!

Yours
Lx"

Needless to say I never got a reply. Oh bugger. I've just insulted another mate.

So, anyway after getting my bottom seriously slapped electronically I decided to venture onto the pub with my flatmate. We decided to do a pub crawl up the road towards the City Centre. The first was empty bar a large barmaid with a Xmas cracker hat on. It also only served pints of Guiness in cans.

"Well", I said to my flatmate "at least we are experiencing the local culture."

The next pub was livier with karoke. An old man about the age of 70 with a huge hump on his back and no teeth asked me to dance. So I danced. Crikey, I thought. I reached the age of 30 and dear W is right. A ned woman with a white shell suit and gold earing and no teeth herself was hovering around my handbag. I ran back to my bag, checked to make sure all the contents were intact and then we speedily went on to the next pub.

The pub or should I say bar - was better. But low and behold. I thought I started out a new life with new people and new friends. There in the corner was B. A great guy who I had met in Glasgow who was always like a brother to me. However, my ex thought differently. We would always meet up for a friendly pint after work and a chit chat and then one night I came home to an empty flat. An hour later, my flatmate K came in and gave me a bollocking that I shouldn't be going out for a drink with B. Apparently B told his mate N that he was going out for a pint with me and N decided to tell my lovely ex that I was going out for a DRINK with B. There's me thinking - I've been out for a pint with a mate and suddenly the whole world things were shagging or something. Certainly B would never make it sound like it was more than a drink? And that really made me think - would he?

A year later, my ex flew to Miami for a wedding. When he came back - there was something different about him. I knew something was up. Asked him how the wedding was and he told me everything in detail then mentioned a girl called Amy. When he mentioned her name, there was a change in his voice. Maybe I have dog genes or something but I detected this straight away. Something was wrong, I thought to myself. Over the next week his behaviour was different. The week after he was going on a stag weekend. I noticed he would stay up late at night on the computer. In the explorer site, lycos email kept coming up and I thought - why has he got this when he's got his hotmail. So put two and two together and that Friday, after he left I decided to hack into his email account. Easy really - His user name was just his first and last name and low and behold his password was my name. When I got in my whole world fell apart.

There were emails from Amy expressing her feelings towards him and there were emails from him expressing his love for her and how he couldn't forget that night even going down to the details. I felt sick. I felt so sick. And then I thought - he took pictures. He was going to get them developed. And I immediately went to his bag and there were the photos. I felt so sick. So sick. I couldn't breathe.

To add to that I was suppose to go an a girly dinner with his mother and sister that night. Ididn't know what to do. My mate, told me don't go - ferk the lot of them. But I thought - no - you know what I am going to go - it's not fair on them. They probably don't know about it . So I did, didn't mention a word but I went and I smiled and pretended nothing was wrong. To this day, I can't forget them saying to me, 'Oh you and R are a match made in heaven, bla bla bla bla bla" and at that moment, tears were wanting to swell in my eyes. Then I could feel the anger setting in. Something in their tone of their voice - I don't know what it was but it was something that smacked me in the face and made my brain realise. They do know. They know all too well. I still didn't say anything. I smiled, said my polite good byes. Went back to the flat. Thew some stuff into a bag and went to stay at a friends.

The thing was we got back together - and he was still writing dirty texts to her behind my back and I found out again and .. well I think that was the end of our relationship there. I think our relationship ended that night in Miami. Subconciously you can never forgive someone. The relationship went on for four more years, but they were all worthless in the end. Why I went back - I don't know. I remember my friend telling me not to go back and I said I wanted to give it another try. She just said 'My god, you really do love him - don't you'. And I did. It took me four years to realise that he never loved me. You're always thinking to yourself your not as pretty, not as intellegent and all those things from my past started to haunt me again - things I thought I had beaten. I just wasn't good enough. I'd never really be good enough. So maybe I should just stop trying.

Anyway - during the next four years we would have arguments about fidelity - the only thing he could think back to throw at me was what about you and B?

Well what about me and B? There is nothing about me and B! I purely thought of B as my brother. He was a good friend and pal - he was like my big brother. Never once did I think of B more than that. It made me so angry. Never once was I unfaithful in the relationship and yet the only thing he could manage to say was what about B?

The night I found the texts and I was so upset - R stormed out of the house and the only person I could phone was B. He suggested I come down to Oxford for a couple of days to take my mind off things. I was crying my eyes out and hysterical on the phone. God I was a blumbering mess. R came back home that night and went in a fit of rage when he saw B's new number scralled on a bit of paper lying next to the computer which I had found at the bottom of my handbag somewhere. So the conversation went onto the relationship between me and B. What relationship? I was screaming - he's like my ferkin brother!

Anyway, any arguments about fidelity and it would always come back to well what about you and B? Crikey one night R came back from a night out with his mates all upset. I asked him what was wrong and he said he bumped into one of B's mates who told him I was apparently stalking B. Well that's a new one seeing that he lives down in Oxford and the last time I spoke to him was when I was crying my eyes out over the phone a year before hand. R was so angry and me, I was so angry that someone could say such a thing that the only way to resolve the matter was to find B's number and call him there and then and try to resolve the situation.

So I did. I was apologetic and tried to explain to B that listen sorry to wake you up in the middle of the night but R is quite upset because he bumped into one of your mates in a club who told him I was apparently stalking you. B told me that was the first he has ever heard of this. I asked both to speak to each other to resolve this situation. Apparently, they both got angry at each other. R said he didn't appreciate that he was spreading rumours about his girlfriend stalking him. B was saying he didn't appreciate being called in the early morning to sort out a relationship dispute. I was sitting there fuming. I don't ferkin appreciate being labelled a stalker when the last time I saw B was two years previously and the last time I even spoke to him was a year ago.

Did we ever manage to resolve the situation - no. From that point onwards whenever I bumped into B in the pub I could only say hello , nice to see you how are you and the normal nicities. Even though I didn't do anything wrong, I felt I had to careful. Even from saying hello - someone might get the wrong impression. Crikey.

So I lost a friendship with a great friend. Some people say he wasn't a great mate he was only after one thing. Others say hes a good mate but slightly screwed up and R was making it up. Me - I've had enough of men. All trouble. You can't be a mate with a guy as (a) someone will assume that you are more than friends (b) he assumes that you fancy him and as soon as you explain you are not and you just want to be friends that your friendship gone. Apparently blokes can't handle being just friends. So I guess when you explain to another guy that you are just friends all men will just assume that really you are shagging buddies because men can't understand the concept of men and women being friends. Pure and simply.

Anyway - bumped into B that night. Haven't seen him in two years. New city, new flat, new friends, new start. And I bump into B. My first thought was crikey - don't say hello - he might say you are stalking him. And then I thought - fuck this - I will say hello. And I did. Turns out he lives a block away from me. Turns out he was also probably off his head on coke. I guess some things never change.

OK - it's been a whie since I last wrote something - things have gone kinda astray in every point of my life- two weeks before Xmas and the company has made two people redundant - I'm safe for the time being but I'm beginning to think how long for so have been hectically trying to sort out my CV and portfolio and have been on the prowl for something new and exciting - the thing is two months ago - whilst I had broken up with my boyfriend and moving to Edinburgh I saw an advert in the guardian for a job as a graphic designer in Dubai - I really wanted to apply but as the closing date was the next day, my portfolio wasn't updated neither my CV and other work comittments took priority I had to grit my teeth and let that lovely job fly by. SO I decided to search for the same publishing company - needless to say - they have updated their website and are still on the look out for a graphic designer. I've decided this must be a calling - I need to do this - if I don't I will be seriously regretting it.

My other dilemma is being the run on to Xmas and having become single again and a workaholic - I am starting to feel really lonely - so lonely I was drowning my sorrows infront of my laptop and messenger with a bottle of voddka and serious lashings of diet coke and a packet of marlboro lights for the last two friday nights running. How sad is that? I've made no plans for Xmas and New Years - thing is I don't want people to know that I'm on my own this year but at the same time I really don't want to be alone. Then I thought - hey - speed daters new years party - again - how sad is that? Would I have the courage - me stuck in a room of 500 people - not knowin anyone - crikey I'd be running for the door..... I'm getting scared - I've no plans. I'm going to be alone for Christmas and be alone for New Years and hell alone for the rest of my life. I'm going to die alone a sad, old lonely old woman without even a cat - the ex got custody of dear rupert - yes - I'm alone and haven't even got my cat. If that was the one thing that broke my heart that was leaving my cat.