Thursday 24 June 2010

The Doctor

A genuine, real-life doctor (complete with fantasy white coat and stethoscope) has contacted me on IE. This is, no doubt, a very good thing. Especially since he is hella cute, and I'm so sexually frustrated now that I am probably more adept at peeling the labels off beer bottles than the machines programmed to do so at recycling plants (in all seriousness, Hubby's friend made a comment about this the other day in the pub during post-football celebrations. I had made a pile about a foot high of branded foil. Hubby thought it was hilarious. Yeah. LOL at yourself, sweetheart.)

Anyway...have arranged to chat later this evening with him online. Hopefully he won't resort to badly punctuated come-ons and dubiously-capitalised, playground references to his genetial. I don't mind talking dirty, I just need said dirty talk to be grammatically correct.

I'm sure this will conjur up an image of some hoity-toity middle-aged English teacher, marking her lovers sexual ramblings with some virtual red pen....

...and that is a pretty accurate image of me. Will keep you posted, conrades!

xxxx

Tuesday 15 June 2010

Starry-eyed

So, I'm more than a little obsessed with Ellie Goulding at the moment. 'Lights' is such a great pop album, and considering I grew up listening to Madonna and Prince, my standards are possibly higher than most...

Anyway, the stand-out track (and single, inevitably) is 'Starry-Eyed', a short burst of beautiful, glitchy electronica and soaring, auto-tuned vocals (I'd like to point out the use of AT is rather tasteful on this track, compared to the hyper-processed sound of Kanye "Second Coming" West). Have a listen if you haven't heard it already. Or if you have.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PULdPep_xfs

Music has alway had a profound effect on me. In fact, during a conversation with The Husband the other day, it dawned on me that a considerable chunk of my memories all relate in some way to a song. The most vivid memory I have of my mother, for example, is watching her clean the house while dancing to Blondie's 'Hanging on the Telephone'. I must have been about 6, jiggy along with this impossibly jolly hippy, hair down to her bottom, bright orange duster punching out to the music.

When I think about my teenage years, I think about George Michael, and being awkward and dressed in uncomfortable netting and lace at a school disco. Stood straight and terrified up against the speaker, I remember feeling the pulse of 'Father Figure' through the broken mesh behind me, and the bass teasing my body with these alien, adult feelings of sexuality. Puberty was siguarly the most exciting and the most terrifying time of my life.

There is something about Ellie's track, 'Starry Eyed', that drags me back to being this tense, vunerable 16 years old, seeing love as this complete and utter Disneyland fantasy. All moon-eyes and just kissing for hours and being so affected by another human being's presence that you would shake.

A far cry from the reality of marriage, perhaps, but I am glad, at times like these, to recall how my lover James once turned me into a quivering teenager, and how those moments, however rare, are still there to be reached for and grasped with both hands.

IE is proving fruitful once more. A few hopefuls in my inbox. Will of course keep you updated, such is my narcissism.

Love xxx

Tuesday 8 June 2010

The Norm.

It's days like today I remember why I cheated in the first place.

It has been nearly two months since James and I broke things off. My married life has settled into it's old, clunky pace again. I work. I go home. I get a kiss on the cheek. I cook. I go to bed. I wake up. I work.

Hubby and I sat curled up in front of the box last night, wrapped up in each other's limbs, my head snuggled into his breast bone. The woman I am today doesn't recognise the woman she was three months ago; sexy, in control, full of electricity. Today she is tired and hopeless, and even the familiarity of her true love's chest fails to envoke anything other than the same images of marital monotony. Like a mirror facing a mirror.

I need my fix. I'm logging on tonight.