Monday, 30 March 2009

What a teenager...

Hi guys,

I hadn't signed in for over a week as I've been really busy to-ing and fro-ing between work, home, and two different gentlemen. However, I wanted to let you know that I've been up to my neck in juggling responsibilities and alibis, and recently had to do some serious thinking.

The other day I was at work, after having snuck out the previous night to meet James briefly, before heading back to the house. I was desperate to keep my eyes open, but on my lunch break ended up falling asleep in our staff room, much to the amusement of everyone in the office. That evening Hubbey said I looked really tired, and seemed worried about me. Obviosuly there was no way I could tell him what was going on, so I said I had been feeling very under-the-weather, and I took the next day off work.

In bed the next day, I studiousy ate my chicken soup, and watched my RDA of made-for-televison movies. I realised that having an affair, although brilliant, can also be a serious strain on your health. And your time. Hubby wanted to take the day off work to look after me, but I think that would have pushed my guilt over the edge. So I took stock.

I am going to start treating Hubby better. He is a good man, not a monster, and despite his lack of passion, he is still the man I felll in love with. James gives me everything I need to stay happy. Together, they are the best relationship I've ever had. Rather than endagering myself and my happiess by running around like a randy schoolgirl, I need to start controlling the situation like an adult. What I am doing is a practical choice I have made to keep my marriage together, not a frivilous flirtation with chaos.

I wanted to thank all of those who commented on my last post. You woke me up. It's great to get advice from such intelligent, open-minded people. I really doesn't feel so sordid anymore.

Love, Shelly.

Thursday, 19 March 2009


"Toto? I don't think we're in Kansas anymore..."

What a week. What a weekend. I spent half of last week being taken out by my husband (!), and half being taken out by James. I read last week that the most common excuse females give to cover up their affairs is "dinner with a friend". They are not half wrong.

I know a few of you were concerned after my last post that I was being too brazen about my activities, and Hubby was sure to find out. I took this advice on board and have since made sure that my alibis are 100% fool-proof. A close friend, Alison, has been kind enough to help me cover my tracks.

I timed my time-off with hers last week, so James could take me to Brighton for an overnight stop. Hubby thought I was at a health spa, and as I returned with a healthy glow, had no reason to question me - even though there was nothing remotely clean or healthy about our hotel rendezvous. I bought stockings and suspenders, and LBD from M&S which was actually rather pretty (I find the majority of M&S stuff leaves much to be desired). We took a brisk walk on the pier, then returned to our room to order an obscene amount of room service. I had a little '9 and a Half Weeks' moment with a pot of honey and some strawberries. Very messy, and not at all practical.

Hubby has been super-sweet to me of late. Perhaps he knows my affections lie elsewhere.

I have to be careful though. Hapiness like this often causes me to stop thinking rationally, and start walking around with my thoughts and feelings metaphorically tattooed on my arms and forehead. Control yourself Shelly. Stop looking so horifically smug.

Wednesday, 11 March 2009


This morning, I woke in the same bed I've woken up in almost every day for the last ten years. The sheets still smelled faintly of my husband's aftershave and the pillow was still uncomfortably bitty. My unknowing partner lying snoring next to me, face down.

Last night, at around 11pm, I left the house, purely on the persuasion of a rather vague text message from James. Said, "Am at the hotel. Have a credit card and a bottle of wine." James hasn't contacted me for a few weeks, and last week send me a message saying he thought it was best that we 'slow things down'. I am not naiive, I know what that means. I certainly wasn't expecting this.

So there I am, half-dressed for work, standing in the foyer of our local TravelLodge. He comes up from behind and puts his hands over my eyes, then spins me around to face him. When I originally met him a few months back, he seemed weather-beaten and tired, but all the fine lines on his face have smoothed out and I can just see these large grey eyes. He pulls out a bunch of roses from behind his back, and apologises prefusely for his behavior. "We feel like teenagers. It doesn't mean we have to act with the same lack of consideration".

We spent the next 5 (!) hours upstairs. Drinking, cuddling. A little more than cuddling, but who am I to kiss and tell? Especially on the internet of all places. Things are reconcilled for now. He explained that things have been very difficult at home recently, but rather than hiding them from me and making excuses, he has decided to be completely honest. After all, when you're having an affair, any other lies just seem like too much work.

I creeped back home and got in around 4am. Hubby was fast asleep, splayed out across the bed as if trying to cover as much duvet as possible. I rolled him like a pancake, and slid under the covers.

It is back on!

Friday, 6 March 2009

Grammar police.

Shock shock, horror horror.

Seems that although my computer seems to have recovered from it's little bout of dyslexia (see Twitter, a few days ago), my hands have not. I have just (rather narcissistically) read my last post to find over 5 full-on typos. FIVE. Am both irritated and confused by my apparent lack of attention to detail. I was the girl at school you paid to complete your English homework.

Maybe that isn't something a grown woman should admit.

Anyway, sorry for being so anal, and spamming your inbox with another automated message, letting you know that Shelly has written an entry - only to find she is blogging about blogging. What a stiff.

On the subject of law and order, I post this tenuously-linked video of a rather mind-blowing performance of Michael Jackson's horror mini-movie in a Philippine prison. Genius.

Thursday, 5 March 2009

Product placement....

I swear I didn't get paid to do this but...

LOOK! The adulterers prayers have been answered! Book hotels in the daytime, with minimum fuss! Comfortably avoid embarrassing check-in at a Travellodge and the knowing looks of the receptionists!

There aren't many hotels on there yet, but I'm sure plenty will be clambering to join once they find out they could be cashing in on our 'working lunches'. Working indeed.

Wednesday, 4 March 2009

Getting back on the horse.

So. I am not taking the bunny boiler route. I have decided that if he's not going to text me or call me, then sod him.

Ahhh, back to my faithful keyboard, and the unsavory messages of the night. Got talking to a yesterday evening, who want me to pretend I was a hooker and wanted me to send him my knickers in the post. It's amazing what things a man can get off on. IllicitEncounters is great 99,9% of the same, but you do occasionally get the odd weirdo.

I checked him out too. He was a tall exec, slightly balding, quite thin. The concept of him 'enjoying himself' while fondling my undies was positivly hilarious!

Other than him, my inbox is full of worthy suitors. So many men, so little time!