Ray of sunshine in this dreary dreary world #2

Adonis: the love of my life, the reason London is the island paradise I've made it out to be, the loveliest of lovelies, the constant, the source of all that is good in the world, the koala bear to my Australia.

Adonis is in Stockholm and sent me roses. A lot of roses. Pink roses with lots of love.

Now tell me, how did I manage to find this one again?

Ray of sunshine in this dreary dreary world #1

I emailed Nestle to ask them about Fruit Gums and put to rest my concerns once and for all about the whole pork gelatine debacle. Imagine my delight when I got this email back:

Dear Miss X

Thank you for getting in touch about Fruit Gums.

The gelatine used in our Fruit Gums and Fruit Pastilles is a beef gelatine. For further information about our products please visit our website www.nestle.co.uk and http://www.rowntrees.co.uk/home/

I trust this information will be of help to you and may I take this opportunity to thank you for your interest in our products.


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I have nothing to say but word. Word playa.

Lit Chat

I have to say this. I am so disappointed by Jenny Diski's first effort (Nothing Natural), I feel like I could cry.

Trawling the Oxfam bookstore on St. John's Wood High Street the other day, after I'd told Adonis he could go and post whatever it is he needs to post, I decided maybe I could find a bargain book or two and get that sense of elation one usually has after finding a treasure for nothing. I was in my element. Amongst all those hideous crime thrillers that are the preferred choice of many forty-somethings on the tube, I found a couple of books for under three quid which made me squeal.

Now Jenny Diski had always been a favourite. I'd read Only Human a zillion times, intrigued by the relationship (love triangle?) between Abraham, Sarah and God. The concept blew me away at the tender age of early 20-something and I was at a total loss at the woman's imagination. To conceive of a story where God is jealous, competing with Sarah over Abraham's affections? Jesus on a Nazareth what kind of heresy was this? Attempting to explain my fascination to Muncle (my uncle) he shrugged it off as sensationalist literature combined with bad taste in books. But I know this isn't so.

So back to the bookstore, I saw Diski's name and immediately remembered the biblical rewrites of Only Human and After These Things. However, Nothing Natural seemed to me like a shallow amble into sado-masochism, much of it not really as shocking, taboo or controversial as it is made out to be. The character annoyed me. Her depression felt fake and contrived and in direct contrast with her excessive, unfamiliar sense of self-assurance. She was not as intelligent as the writer proclaimed her to be, rather sheltered with her shocked, outraged fascination with S&M*. I appreciate that it was written in the 80s. Still. Spankings? Sodomy? Beatings with a leather strap? Humiliation, pain and rape fantasies? They are all so yawningly passe, non?

But anyway, what do I know? I'm no literary critic. I don't proclaim myself to be above any form of literature.

On to the next book. I'm about to start Philip Roth's Zuckerman novels. I'm so excited about it, I can't bring myself to focus on property law for two seconds.

*S&M always reminds me of Slaughter & May, a leading UK law firm whose methods are not unlike a little mental S&M themselves. Rumour has it that a trainee missed a comma after pulling an all-nighter drafting an important document and promptly got fired when it fell into the hands of the powers that be. Ouchies.

Gay is the word

Last night's conversations as the tipple flowed like tipple and the cigarettes were chained. I was out with my friends, 1 girl (R) and two gay boys (H and L) checking out dingy Freud then meandering the streets of Soho.

#1 - On sexuality
H: R wants to know if you've ever done anal.
(Much squealing from R)
Me: Haha! Err no. God I don't know how you guys do it. It must hurt like hell.
R: H is a giver not a taker. And L has never slept with a man.
Me: Honey, where I come from, you both wouldn't be considered gay.

#2 - On measurements
(Flipping through a gay magazine in a gay club)
H: Oh my god! This guy is supposed to be 10.5 inches!
(We all stare at the picture of the penis)
Me: That's not 10.5 definitely. It's too small.
R: My boyfriend's about 7 to 8 inches.
Me: Did you measure it?
R: No but I know the size of my own hand (making a fist)
Me: Ah yes... (pause) One potato, two potato...

#3 - On flirtation
(Still in the gay club)
Me: I'm not used to not being approached on a night out.
R: I know it's great isn't it?
Me: (sulk sulk)

#4 - On acronyms
(Staring at the magazine personal ads)
H: Look at him! Jesus.
Me: "Latino dream lover". Can it get any worse? What's UC?
H: Ultra large cock?
Me: That would be ULC though.
H: Ultra... Hmm
(pause while we ponder)
H: UNCUT! UNCUT!
Me: Clever boy!

#5 - On art
(We were all cleverly drawn by a street artist for a pound each, manga style)
R: L you look like a girl!
Me: R you look like Bardot!
H: June you look like you!
Me: Haha I look so manga. Look how massive my eyes are!
R: Your eyes really ARE that big.

Saturday Night

So with my Aussie Adonis out of the house, gone for a piss-up with his Aussie mates, drinking Aussie drinks and playing Aussie games I was home on a Saturday night with no prior plans and feeling restless as fuck. I texted my friend, the very beautiful blonde Blondski with the following proposition: "Come round to mine for wine in front of the tv?" She was so there.

Then when she arrives, I am all hyperactive and overcompensatory. Whereas I love her plenty, I feel it is difficult to be completely at ease except for with a handful of people. Blue being one, MSB another and Churchill yet another. Conversation only flows naturally with a few since I can be the meanest bitch in the world and it would just work. With everyone else I hold my tongue. I hold back ever so slightly and I come off as stilted and child-like.

I break the barrier and crack open the merlot I'd bought Adonis on an impulse. Struggle with the cork and we fall about laughing then sip the wine tentatively. She nods in approval. I nod along having no idea what constitutes "good" wine and what doesn't. As long as it's not vinegary it's fine by me.

A few finger taps and scans of the room later I ask if she'd like to play the Wii. A split second look of horror until she realises I mean the computer game. We head to Adonis's room and engage in some highly competitive bowling, then tennis. We kick each others asses intermittently and I feel this is the most fun I've had staying in on a Saturday night. Then it's monopoly time. By the time we're done (and she's won) it's late and the last tube was ages back. Sleepover time. But not before watching some dodgy Queen videos and gyrating along to Crazy Little Thing Called Love much to the amusement of Blondeski.

I head off to bed and she goes to my room to sleep. I curl up and before I know it, Adonis strolls in and puts his hands on my face. He says, "Promise me one thing. Don't go out on your own at night. The streets are filled with freaks and weirdos and all these girls dressed slutty and you're here playing the Wii. So beautiful."

I love him so much sometimes I feel that my heart will explode.

Crikey Moses

I'm in pain. The kind of pain that should have subsided a while ago but is still there. Not that metaphysical heart ripped out kind of crap. I'm talking about the real shit, blood and guts and everything. Well no guts, considering it's my foot. But fuck me sideways, it's a nasty cut that happened in my haste to come out of the bathroom (childhood urge to run out before the toilet was fully flushed so as not to invoke anyone to come out at me and saaaay mutilate me?). I blame Hostel. I was watching it with Adonis who in his zeal refused to change the channel when achilles tendons were sliced and eyes were being blowtorched - "No look baby! Look! Oh bubba's scared. I'm gonna download Hostel 2". Yeah thanks. Naturally, me being me, I immediately started freaking out and being afraid and my mind association game kicked in as it does. Torture relates to Saw relates to that freaky doll relates to a myriad of fictional fuckers that are out to get me and slice me to bits.

A boy I once knew and have the vaguest recollection of once told me he loved me to bits. I do believe he had a dark side. I'm pretty sure he was quite the intense madman. Fuck, I can't go around making random allegations like that but meh, I do anyway. He was very stern and soulless in his judgements and had it coming anyway.

I be cooking tomorrow. I be Stepford Wife-ing it tomorrow for my sweet self. Yes Adonis in up (down?) in the land of Switzer being all corporate.

Obligatory Kath & Kim excerpt. If you don't know it, watch it. Aussie comedy:

"It's not easy being a corporate wife. You don't know what it's like being married to a successful man."
"Hello? What do you call this guy eating his yoghurt and muesli?"

Crikey moses, my fucking foot throbs. What have I fucking done to myself? Give me the fucking pills. Or give me Adonis as he lies here stroking my hair and kissing my head and calling me "bubba." Give me Adonis over everything else, anytime.

Laughing Wednesday

A bright start to the day. I open my eyes and there he is entangled, his hair soft like fur, his breathing steady like a little boy's. A few movements here and there and next thing I know he's up, eyes blinking at me that steady brownish-greenish light shining on me, trapping me in headlights.

A few Arabic words, maybe even a conversation:

"Tetkallam 3arabi?"
"Na3am. Anti?"
"Ee"
"Min ayna anti?"

A few more words here and there. Then I break into a grin, unable to control myself in the face of all this cuteness. For me, I think. He's learning it for me. I must have done something right to get this.

A few jokes cracked and I am in hysterics, I can't help it. He swears like an Egyptian woman, something involving a vagina and a mother. It is disturbing but oh so funny. His hands like spiders tickling me to keep it going. "You're so cute," he says and nothing could be farther from the truth. My eyes smudgy, my hair has a life of its own, my face looks a bit like a train wreck only not quite so fascinating. Cuddles abound.

I jump up, gallop to the front door. Maybe I got a package, my new book from Amazon. I gallop back. Nothing. I harumph my way to his arms again.

My mornings when he is here are perfect. My life when he is here is perfect. It's a Laughing Wednesday, a Chuckling Thursday, a Giggling Friday, a Chortling Saturday and a Snickering Sunday.

Until Monday when life becomes dreary again.