Thursday 26 February 2009

Beautifully pointless..

Look at how down with the kids I am!

http://twitter.com/mistressmich

As Alan Partridge would say, KISS MY FACE!

Too old for this.

James is being, frankly, a bit of a cock.

I guess that when one is involved in an affair, it is pretty pathetic to start being needy about how often your lover, who is, by law, promised to another woman, contacts you. However, it has been over a week since I spoke to him and he has not been responding to my messages, leading to what seems to be a chronic bout of what I would call 'textpectation'.

What is wrong with the boy? Does he not reaslise that this kind of behavior inspires in me a reaction which could only be described as 'proper mental like'? Parts of my body that I didn't even know had pores are sweating.


God, I am so sexy right now. If you could only see me. You would want a piece.


Tips on how to cope, please? All advice welcome...
...unless you're going to tell me I'm a sad desperate loser. Probably best to leave that out.

Friday 20 February 2009

Curiouser and curiouser...

Having an affair seems to have opened me up to lots of strange behaviors I didn't even know I had in me.

First, I have developed a slight obsession with New York Deli sandwiches from Marks. Honestly. I used to hate the combination of pickle, meat and mustard, now I'm salivating at the thought. Other new found food-loves - Almond-stuffed olives, and rusks (a lady at the gym has a new baby, and I occasionally sneak one when she's not looking). Greek food? Stealing from children? Very out-of-character.

Secondly, a few bizarre crushes I never knew I harbored are coming out of the woodwork (not literally, can you imagine Gordon Ramsey climbing out of your bureau?) The most bizarre of which is none other than Alan Rickman, awkward ex-Truly Madly Deeply hearthrob, and dark wizard extraordinaire. I was avidly researching him on IMDB, when I found this frankly rather disturbing film called 'Closet Land' that he starred in 1991. It's about a writer that gets imprisoned in this abstract interrogation room. Rickman plays her interrogator, in various forms.

It's actually phenomenally tense. And quite hot. If you're remotely into power games, I suggest you look it up.

The other bizarre crush is on Simon Amstell. The first reason for it being bizarre is that he's about half my age. The second reason for it being bizarre is that he is 100% gay, a nancy-boy, camp as a row of tents. But he's got the most amazing sense of humor...

...I wonder what Freud would say.

Probably "Zee crush on zis homozexual male suggests zat you need a partner zat is more attentive, perhaps more zenzitive, and vill tend to you in a more traditionally feminine way, wiz more care and affection."

But what did he know?

Thursday 19 February 2009

Trendy.

Looky looky! I started a trend. It was like that week in high school where one of the sixth form girls started wearing pedal pushers and then everyone started wearing pedal pushers because they thought it was cool.

Except on the internet. And with slightly more adult content.

I guess you could say that teenagers in pedal pushers could be classed as adult content. Particularly if your first name is Roman. And your second name is Polanski.

Anyway. Two other members of IE have started their own blogs. 'Andy', the neglected husband, who's blog you can find here, and a lady known only as 'moneyforoldrope' (nice moniker), who, even at this early stage, sounds like a lot of fun. You can find her blog here. Well done guys! Keep it up.


Oh, BTW, I found yet another article about a mistress who uses IE today on Fabulous (The NOTW supplement...I actually read the orginal article while on the loo at someone's house). Karen is so forward, I really like her.

http://www.fabulousmag.co.uk/features/feature_married_054.php

If you go to the left of the page and click on Fab forum, you can see all the bitter comments from the vicious NOTW readers. Not an ounce of perspective. Bless Karen, they've torn her to shreds - labelled her disgusting, fat and old. She's fought back though - the forum actually reads better than the article (it's pretty snide...something tells me someone didn't get a read-back). I've posted my thoughts.





*Sigh*. I think I drank too much coffee. This was only meant to be a quickie. ;)

Tuesday 17 February 2009

Thankyou..

To all those Illicit members who have been commenting and offering their advice. It's comforting to have a forum where people like us can speak openly (seeing as the subject of one's own affair is not the best thing to bring up at a dinner party).

I'm also quite chuffed that those of us in our 40's and 50's have seized a little pocket of cyberspace for ourselves. That'll show the young-uns. *Brandishes walking stick*

Monday 16 February 2009

The Day After Vanetine's...

Unlike 'The Day After Tomorrow', which was a terrible excuse for a film, The Day After Valentine's was rather enjoyable, and thankfully not covered in 6 feet of snow.

Jake Gyllenhaal wouldn't have gone amiss though.

On Saturday, Hubby took me out for a textbook meal at the restaurant in town which we go to every year. I spent most of the night undressing the waiting staff with my eyes. I can't deny that since James was been in the picture, things between us have been a great deal calmer. We had a really lovely evening actually. Hubby is back to his 'old self' (he threw a half a breadroll at manger in protest to how obscenely stale they were - that is the man I know and love).

If Valentine's day was a little '7 Brides', the following evening was unashamedly '9 1/2 weeks'. James and I planned to go to dinner in central and take a romantic stroll along the river. This plan was violently scuppered by our inability to get out of bed. A gloriously wasted evening.

Janine received a Valentine's card over the weekend. With a poem! You should see her. It's anonymous but she keeps reading it again and again, expecting the sender's name to materialise. I do hope it wasn't New Boy who sent it.




In hindsight, New Boy is hardly Shakespeare. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if he thought Shakespeare was another term for jousting. Or a euphemism for sex. The moron.

Friday 13 February 2009

"Resession sex"

One of the smarmy New Boys in my office kept name dropping this phrase yesterday morning. He was leaning uncomfortably close to our new secretary, Janine, who looked both bemused and terrified, in the way only a woman who has emigrated alone to the UK in search of fortune and found herself, confusingly, typing out invoices for a struggling law firm can.

"You see, it's all boils down to sex, right? When one of these...these, like, national 'crises' happens, they're always like, 'So, how is this going to affect people's sex lives?'. Like, when wall street crashed in the 20's they kept talking about the effect it would have on the youth, who were all shagging around about then. Everyone wants to talk about it...everyone wants to do it" - New Boy shifts his weight and locks eyes with Janine. Janine flinches. "Recession sex - that's what it's about. People screwing because they're bored and broke" Janine turns her back and starts filing frantically "I'm bored and broke." More filing. "Maybe I should get myself self some...if you know what I mean". New Boy winks at the back of Janine's head, who is still filing blank paper.

Later on I hear New Boy discussing this exchange with Slightly More Established Boy. He made it sound like the aforementioned secretary was crawling round his ankles, salivating, with her phone number stapled to her forehead.



I think I may need to get out of here.

Tuesday 10 February 2009

High five!

Honestly, if they had a guy like this on the tube escalators every morning, I think the commute would be a little more bearable.



Actually, maybe not. Arms might get tired.

Real wives

So I had an email the other day from Rosie, who does press and PR for IE. I told her a while back about the blog and it seems she's been following it for a while. Get this - they want to feature it on the site! Crazy..

I said yes. Apparently, it's a good insight into how the site works and what kind of people use it. I guess it's also a demonstration of the fact that not everyone who dates on line is a totally loser. We're not all heathens, we're not all uncaring and heartless.

And she thinks I'm funny! Horrah! I have been waiting years to hear someone tell me that. What pressure! What if all these people logging on to read this are expecting Milligan or Clease. And they get Street-Porter. All bad hair and smug guffaw.



A guffaw sounds like some kind of exotic bird. Even more exotic if it's smug, I guess.

Wednesday 4 February 2009

Literature...

I never knew there would be so much literature on adultery...

...I don't know why. I just didn't. But lo and behold...thousands of books...accounts, advice, justifications, even tips. God forbid Hubby should stumble upon my Amazon wish-list :)

The most interesting one, by far, is Mira Kirschenbaum's 'When Good People Have Affairs'. It's widely recognised as being a decent, relatively-unbiased guide for people trying to understand the reasons for their partner's infidelity (although some partners leave less-than-informed, see angry review from scorned wife on Amazon). Obviosuly, a book seemingly justifying the idea of having an affair is going to receieve a backlash, but it's actually very good. I found out about it when I heard an interview on the radio the other day with an IllicitEncounters representative - she took a statistic from the book that almost shocked me - 60% of married men and 40% of married women will, at some point, engage in extra-marital sex.

Seems I'm not alone after all.

It's funny, since I've joined I keep seeing the website everywhere. I don't think they advertise (how could they???) but they have a lot of PR in magazines and papers. I genuinely think it's growing. I can't say I'm surprised. On every street in every town there seems to be a down-trodden wife or a neglected husband. Maybe, when you're on my side of the fence, you can see it more clearly.

So, anyway - the second book, The Handbook for the Other Woman, is fantastic. I bought it last week on a whim. Hilarious, but most importantly, light-hearted, it's not everyone's cup of tea. It puts the subject in an odd light, and you can't take it seriously at all, but right now, that's what I'm looking to read. Human beings are ridiculous - it feels good to laugh at myself and my crazy situation.

James and I haven't been in contact for a few days. I'm getting that I-wonder-if-he's-texted-I'll-just-check-oh-no-he-hasn't-well-maybe-he's-busy-or-maybe-I-missed-his-call-is-my-phone-on-silent? feeling. That's the funny thing about modern technology. It's suposed to make contact easier, but the truth is, the more ways there are for someone to contact, the more contact you need. We wrap ourselves in man-made constraints. Maybe I should suggest we write Lady-Chaterly-esque letters to one another?



Maybe not.

Monday 2 February 2009

Glowing

I think I am. Hubby has noticed. Rather than rousing suspicion it seems to have inspired some attraction in him. When I left the house yesterday to go for coffee with a friend he wouldn't let me leave, pull at my blouse and kissing me. Crazy that after so many years, he is becoming interested. Too little too late, I fear.

When I said friend, I meant James. And when I said coffee, I meant coffee, in a hotel lobby, followed by something a little more...steamy. The sex is breathtaking. I don't want to divulge the vulgar details, but I will again say that I never imagined in 100 years that I would be having this much fun between the sheets. It's a shame that I have to have it with someone other than my husband, but it seems, for now, that this is the only way for me to stay satisfied.

I am still being messaged on IE all the time. I check back everyday - it's a good confidence boost, although I'm not really up for seeing guys while I'm with James.


He's just texted me. It's terrible - we're like young lovers. I am fixated with this little gadget in my hand, waiting for it to light up and tell me he's thinking of me. I am such a sodding GIRL.