Drnk so mcuh I spen the wole taxi drive home hoping i don;’t vmint in th cab,

I didn’t.

I vmited ehwne i got hoem.

/fuck.

This story slipped my mind, but it’s well deserving of posterity.

At my birthday drinks, for some reason the talk got around to the three things I wanted to do once I knew I was leaving America, before I left. A sort of a ‘last chance’ thing, although I knew I’d be going back several times.

1. Sleep with an American bloke.
2. Visit Chinatown.
3. Visit Little Italy.

I said that I had achieved 2 and 3, but 1 had eluded me.

Krazy K’s response was, “That’s good though, it’s much better to keep yourself pure.”

You could hear the jaws as they hit the ground.

I just laughed. “Bit late for that, Krazy K. Besides, I said I hadn’t slept with an American bloke, I didn’t say I hadn’t slept with anyone.”

Bless her and her innocent ways.

Blimey. Pure? What’s that?

…. and it’s burning a hole!

Well, not in my pocket any more, I paid it into the bank this morning (so no point in burgling me any more).

At lunch time, still very much high from last night, I bought an OMD tshirt, and all the OMD albums on cd (well, it’s cheaper than buying a turntable) from Play.com. Spent just over £70, so I think this was a bit bargainous.

And then, this evening, Ihave booked me a long weekend in New York - as it’s been over a year since I last went, so I am due a visit. And I have some airmiles to use, and they have a sale on, so it only needed half as many as it would normally. Still have to pay the taxes, but at £137 I think this is even more bargainous than my musical purchases.

Now need to sort out the parking, and I am all set!

Tonight I relived a night from the summer of 1984. I was 17 years old. I was in love with a boy called Richard (who came to be known as loony Richard in later years, but that’s another story). One of my best friends, Al, and I headed off into the scary metropolis that is Birmingham city centre.

There are parts of that day I remember very clearly.

Like going into HMV, and browsing the records. Coming to the ‘O’ section, and Al, nice friend that he was, making a grab for the 10 inch version of ‘Souvenir’. There was only one copy. I was bitterly disappointed.

To this day, ‘Souvenir’ is my all time favourite record. I don’t know why, but it just does something to me.

Then we headed off to the Birmingham Odeon.

This was in the days before it became a cinema.

And I went to my first ever concert.

Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark. OMD. The ‘Junk Culture’ tour.

Because Al had bought the single, he didn’t have enough money for a programme. I did. So, in the end, I got the better deal, because I bought the 10 inch single at a later date. He missed his chance to buy a ‘Junk Culture’ programme forever.

Tonight I went to see them again.

The place was full of 40 something people. Loads of men, which surprised me until I thought about it. OMD were never a ‘girly’ band. And a lead singer who dances like a dick and doesn’t care because he’s enjoying himself would appeal to just about every bloke I know.

Back in the day I had a huge crush on Paul Humphreys. He was the pretty boy of the band. And he didn’t dance like a dick.

However, with age and maturity (and the realisation that almost all blokes dance like dicks), and the fact that I don’t think Mr Humphreys has aged all that well, I have now switched my shag allegiance to Andy McCluskey.

The concert was great - and incredibly civilised. Because I bought tickets so late, we were sat right up in the gods. I wish I had been down on the floor (like when we went to see Jason). Because, it started in trickles, just one or two people, and then more and more people joined. And the bouncers did nothing to stop them. People were lining the floor in front of the stage. A stage that is no more than 3 feet high. There was nothing to stop anyone from arsing about and jumping on stage, but nobody did. Everyone stayed back where they were supposed to. I guess that’s what happens when you get a bunch of 40-something year olds together.

After about 3 songs I could bear sitting in my seat no longer. Fully expecting to get a tap on the shoulder at any point, but not caring, I headed to the end of the row, and down to the front of the balcony.

And I danced my pants off!

And sang my heart out.

I can’t believe I still know all the words to the Architecture and Morality album. The singles makes sense, since I have the greatest hits cd in my car, and have been listening to it for weeks. But I can’t remember the last time I listened to A+M - I have it on vinyl, and the last time I owned a record player was in 2001, and I think it was years before that.

It wasn’t a cheap concert - but then I suppose it was aimed at the ‘prosperous’ 40-something people, a group that I suppose I now belong to. It wasn’t cheap, but it was so worth the money!

I want to go again!!!

And damn, writing this has just reminded me I need to ring those pink women to cancel my insurance - not sure if I’ll get any money back, but worth a shot.

Anyway, I now have a rather large sum of cash sat on my coffee table. And no idea when I will get chance to go to the bank to pay it in.

So, if you know where I live, now is a good time to come and burgle me!

Although finally I get a weekend to myself, after it being manic for the last month or so.

It is fatal that I go into town though - I managed to buy 5 tops, some hair slides and two books (one signed by the (local) author) in an hour today. And I forgot to take my voucher with me, so will be going back in tomorrow to get some free face cream, and I will no doubt spend a fortune on more cosmetics, because I will be there, and some will be on bonus time.

I frighten myself sometimes. I know I will spend money, yet seem unable to stop myself.

To be fair, my 5 tops and 6 slides came to a total of £32.40, so they were, in fact, bargains.

But I need more clothes like I need a hole in the head.

Work is irritating me a bit - not the work itself, but just that there is so much of it to do. But it looks like we might be getting someone new - not absolutely confirmed yet, but my boss was typing up a job description for someone new for my team “for when it does get approved, maybe, can’t promise”.

And Monday I am off to see OMD. I am actually quite excited about it. The first concert I ever went to was to see OMD at the Birmingham Odeon, and I think it was 1984 (might have been 1983), the Junk Culture tour. I still have the programme somwhere, I might try and dig it out. Very much a trip down nostalgia lane.

And I might where one of my new tops, which has little puffy sleeves - I forsee the re-emergence of shoulder pads by this time next year…….

Just got in from the first night out with LELI in ages. It was fun. Although I forgot he has a car now (scary indeed), and so I should have made him drive. Next time I will make him come and pick me up, although he admitted he was scared to drive “all that way” without satnav to guide him! Bless!

Just when everything is going hunky dory, life just comes along and, well, not exactly kicks you in the teeth, but certainly throws enough at you to knock you off your stride.

Ten years ago, I went through the humiliating trauma of being told I couldn’t have children, not without some sort of artificial help anyway. My hormone levels were all ovr the place, and without drugs were probably not high enough for me to be ovlulating.

Without the help of a loving husband (waste of fucking space he was at the time), I eventually came to terms with that.

Just over 5 years ago, i went through a bout of bleeding between my periods - in fact for 3 months I had about 4 days where I didn’t bleed, 5 days of full on heaviest periods I’d ever had, 22 days of light bleeding, 1 day off. I had just moved to America, and my marriage was completely and utterly on the rocks, so after a couple of smear tests, the doctors decided it was stress. Given that the bleeding stopped the minute the husband left, this was probably right.

About 18 months ago, it started again. Not as bad this time - maybe 3 days mid-month with some slight spotting, but enough for me to have to buy tampons when I was in Portugal last summer (that was fun, not speaking the language trying to explain what I needed as they didn’t have them out on the shelves, they were kept in the back for some odd reason). And for it to mar slightly my trip to Australia.

I went to the doctors a few months ago, and I don’t know why - denial maybe? - but rather than go through the private healthcare I get through work, I went through the ‘wait on the list, you get seen when it’s your turn’ process of the NHS.

Two weeks ago I went to see the specialist, who explained that it could still be hormonal, but that he wanted to do a scan to make sure it wasn’t anything more serious. He booked me an appointment at his training clinic for after my next period.

Appointment was today.

Good news - there is nothing wrong. Everything down there looks healthy.

Did they say good news?

Too fucking right they did.

They can see I am ovulating.

But I’m not supposed to be ovulating, my hormones don’t work right.

Did they get it worng last time? But they can’t have, because after years of unprotected sex with the ex, there was no pregnancy. I was so relieved there was nothing serious, that the implications didn’t hit me until I was on the way home.

I guess it means a trip back to the doctors to discuss it.

It’s thrown me though. I really don’t understand any of it.

Oh, and to stop the bleeding? They suggest I go on the pill.

….this made me giggle today -

Last month the UN published the results of a worldwide survey on the topic: “Please give us your honest opinion regarding the solution of food shortage in the rest of the world.”

Not quite unexpectedly, the survey turned out to be a complete failure:

In Africa, nobody knew what “food” meant.
In Eastern Europe, nobody understood “honest”.
In Western Europe nobody could make heads or tails of “shortage”.
The Chinese had no idea what “opinion” meant.
South America asked repeatedly about the meaning of “solution”.
Nobody in the Middle East understood “please”.
And in the US, no one knew what the heck “the rest of the world” was supposed to be.

I don’t feel quite so knackered now though. I have stopped taking my hay fever tablets, and I feel tons better. Next year I will ask for the non drowsy ones.

After taking yesterday off, I got into work today to find my calendar filled from 10 until 5, with just 30 minutes for lunch.

And my boss wonders why I am not progressing the ‘project’ work. I told her in my one to one today that the whole team is drowning under a sea of queries - even the stupid ones need to be looked at, and take at least 15 minutes after you have responded trying to politely say “Piss off, this is a stupid request!”, and they have come back at least twice still trying to convince you that you really want to do their work.

Out of two days work last week, 12 hours was spent on unplanned adhoc queries. Plus we have to authorise data access requests - admittedly not many, maybe 15 or so a month, but they all take time to check over.

So she is going to ask her boss if we can have a monkey. Someone who can deal with all the crap, and just pass on to the rest of us ‘proper’ queries. It is such a waste of the company’s money to be paying me to answer some of these stupid queries.

And so, S2 passed these on to me today. I have seen them before, but I so love them I am going to share them again - enjoy!

I am off to the BBC Summer Food show tomorrow at the NEC. I know it is going to be fun, but I really could do with spending some time at home, catching up on sleep, tidying the house - I can’t remember what colour the carpet is, it’s so covered in cat hair now.

Been a very busy week. Why is it when you take one day off work in the week, you end up doing 5 days of work in the 4 days anyway? What is the point?

Also, sadly my friend who I went to see Jason with left the company on Thursday. We went out for drinks, but I was driving.

Talking of driving - LELI has a car! I have offered to go out with him, but he says he wants to go on his own - I think he is scared he will crash, and doesn’t want to show it, and also if he does crash not have anyone in there with him. Still, it will now mean he can sometimes drive on our drinks/meals out, so I can have a glass of wine or two!

Madam was behaving veyr strangely when I got home Thursday night, late after the drinks. I thought it was because she was scared of the bin, which I had to wheel back to where it lives after the bin men had been. Mister came in the house, but Madam had streaked off past the neighbours wall. I called her from the back door, and heard her jump the fence, and she came running round the house.

With a mouse in her mouth.

A very much alive mouse, struggling to get out.

I screamed, and tried to shut the back door. to be met with louder screams, as Mister was trying to go outside to see what the fuss was about.

She left it dead on the grass after 5 minutes, when I let her in. She did her usual ‘jumping out the bedroom window’ trick that night, and when I got up in the morning there was no sign of either cat or mouse.