Sitting here on a Friday night, curled up on the settee, in a cosy djellaba, outside of a Bailey’s…………..and absolutely covered in pussy hair – which may well explain why I wake up every morning all sneezy and nose-runny.

Last post was the 19th – when was that? Five days ago! And what have I done. Tooooo many things. And what have I failed to do. Toooooooooo toooooooooooo many things.

Suffice to say it has been a busy week and it looks like all the weeks over the next month are going to be much the same. I’m tired already, in anticipation.

Tonight we were dancing out, on the streets of Bexhill, which were buzzing with more people than I have ever seen in this town. There were a vast proportion of teenagers gradually intoxicating themselves and being really, really stoooopid – one group of girls (looked about 13/14, if that) actually got the press photographer to photograph them, chilling round a lamppost and all holding a can of something. Their parents should be really proud when that comes out next week.

Morris dancers are the butt of many jokes and are quite accustomed to being ridiculed and heckled but I was quite reassured tonight by the stick in my hand when we were swamped by an almost malevolent group of teens. Our musician said the edge was thrilling but then he is a man! When I first started dancing out in public I kept forgetting to smile because I was concentrating so hard but I’m starting to loosen up a bit now and accept that I look a prat anyway so I might as well look like happy one.

I woke from a dream this morning that was so nice I have spent the day cursing the waking up. Isn’t that always the way. Just when you’re starting to enjoy something you wake up.

Something purple within 5 feet of you:
Mouse Mat

How long can you hold your breath underwater?
Never timed it although I sometimes thought about it after watching Local Hero because Peter Capaldi does that in the bath. But of course I have bubble bath and it would get in my eyes and………..rambling again.

The weirdest thing you've ever heated in the microwave?
I don’t put weird stuff in there, it would be silly.

How much Japanese do you know?
None

Sparkly things?
I like sparkly things

Ever crash a car, been in accidents?
I don’t drive. I went into the back of a car when I was riding my bike – aged 16 – broke my two front teeth.

Do you look good in yellow?
Not really

Do you sing?
Indeed

Ever sang in front of a crowd?
Still do from time to time but not to a huge, huge crowd

Do you dance?
Morris. Pull the other one it’s got bells on – yes it has!

Is your hair long enough to chew on?
Yes, if I pull the curls out straight.

Least favourite colour?
All colour is groovy, it’s black and white that’s dull.

Favourite kind of pizza?
Anything with mushrooms, I love mushrooms.

Ever had Dippin' Dots?
No

Ever played an instrument?
Piano, very poorly, for about a month. Piano Accordion, very poorly for about a month. Recorder, very poorly, for about a month. You get the picture……

Do you own your own car?
Nope. I do own a moped though.

What kind of car is it?
It isn’t, it’s a moped…..it’s silver.

Do you want to get married?
It’s rather fun but I have had two shots at it now so it would be a bit greedy.

At what age do you want to have kids?
Been there done that, I was 19 & 25

How many kids?
Two, one of each, what more could I ask!

Mission – Purchase a 3-seater sofa, a 2-seater sofa less than 5’ wide (and to match the 3-seater) and a sofa bed, on a buy-now-pay-June deal, with delivery in time for Christmas.

Mission Impossible.

We have managed to get the first two items on the right finance deal but not delivered until after December so we decided to go for the sofas anyway and just sit on each other at Christmas which is at least friendly. We ordered the sofas in a lovely rich red which is apparently going to be the big colour next year so we’re ahead of the game. Like I give a flying fart about fashion, if I wanted to be trendy I’d be getting a leather one. But I won’t sit on an animal – unless it’s the cat and by mistake.

We have to go on another tour at the weekend to find some kind of sleeping facility for the house guest we have at Christmas. A hammock it might have to be. Isn’t there something about hanging a leg over the side?

And it was a right mucky day too to be going about the country looking for furniture.

Hey ho, I’m off out dancing tonight which will hopefully pick me up and even if it doesn’t do that it will wipe anything else out of my head.

Like why on earth men…

I was talking to someone the other day who likes her own company and doesn’t feel she needs a man in her life particularly. I said that’s because although men need women, women don’t need men. Not really. Well not once you get past the baby-making part of life. All a woman really needs is chocolate, a good vibrator and a screwdriver. It’s probably best not to spill the Screwdriver on the vibrator though, I’m a Cosmopolitan girl myself.

Katie is glaring at me because she thinks there is room on my lap for a laptop and a lapcat. Not so – I’m not that big. And the laptop wins for the moment, I need to unwind.

An hour’s walk to work. A day at work. An hour’s walk home. An evening taking photos. I’m tired.

But unfortunately not sleepy.

My mind has been focused on stuff all day and I need to let it flop out and relax for a bit.

There it is – all flopped out all over the place and watching Save the Last Dance. I like a bit of dancing and romancing in a film.

“Ah the Cuban lad – he gave us a video.” Father Dougal

There was a guy, in Guys and Dolls, doing a bit of Cuban dancing. Mucho sexio.

I’m just rambling away through some thoughts and trying to avoid the more futile stuff and find a way to the goofy stuff.

Wise cracks = clever bums = intelligent rectums.

What is wrong with some people? You don’t expect to go to the theatre and sit behind someone who spends the whole time complaining – audibly – and folding their arms instead of applauding. And these were mature people! Mature, my eye, I think that sort of behaviour is not only rude but also immensely childish. I wanted to lean forward and tell him what an ignorant dick he was but you can’t stoop to their level! Fortunately he didn’t return for the second half.

The girlie and I have noticed how chirpy all the staff are in our local Sainsbury’s, they are so friendly and chatty – we do live in the South East remember which is not an area overly renowned for that. And today ‘Chris’ was excelling himself in the charm department with a most charming comment about myself and my ‘sister’ which managed not to offend my daughter because she didn’t hear it.

Today I did something I haven’t done in ages, I fell asleep on the settee and boy did it make feel groggy. It’s amazing how a little nap like that can throw your body clock about all over the place. So that is why I’m still farting about on here at midnight.

One must follow one’s star to wherever it leads - a line from Death on the Nile just now.

I’m not entirely sure about this whole ‘following’ business, I think it might be an idea to get in front of it and lead the way. Following one’s star sounds like a very indolent approach to life really. And a cop out! If you follow your star I guess you can always blame that if life doesn’t deal you the cards you want. One of the meme’s recently had a question about regrets but regrets are pointless. I don’t quite know where this is leading so I think it best to change topic as I don’t feel in an overly serious and philosophical frame of mind.

It must be about time for a cup of tea. English Breakfast. And possibly a small amount of chocolate. We have some chocolates here that are ridiculously small and a bit of an insult really.

I am rambling a bit really because my thoughts are elsewhere.

Had my last swim for a few weeks. I pop down to the pool in my lunch hour on a Friday but the pool is closing next week for a while to refurbish. And not a moment too soon either, last week I had to move my stuff in and out of three lockers because they were all fecked. I wouldn’t mind as much if it didn’t mean taking my glasses off and putting them back on each time. I’ve also had to change cubicles a few times because the locks are disintegrating. I really wouldn’t want someone else flinging open the door to my cubicle and being presented with a nudey Jojo. Not nice.

I seem to have had such a busy week. Yesterday I had to go out for a walk in the park and collect 2 bagfuls of leaves for the girlies play, Intimations of Hades, at college. So that shows just how busy I am.

I was half-watching Neighbours yesterday - it isn’t a good idea to wholly watch it in case your brain melts – and at one point Harold said he was just going to ‘polish his tuba’. It made me laugh – a lot, almost enough to fall off sofa and I have witnesses! I have never heard it called that before…

The programme for one of the playlets I watched at girlie’s college yesterdays had this on the bottom ‘Little Green is also the title of a song written by Joni Mitchell about her baby daughter who she had adopted at the age of twenty-one.’ Now I admit I know very little about the Adoption Laws across the pond but even there they surely don’t have twenty-one-year-olds being adopted.

I am shortly going to re-dress myself, i.e. change my clothes, because I am popping out to listen to some live music. Dead music is never as popular because it has a dirgeful quality. It should be a suitably mellow end to the week and a chance to catch up with old friend. Well she isn’t old, although she is slightly older than me. I was thinking about age earlier. When I started working where I work now – ten years ago, must be coming up for parole soon – I was a tender 33. At the time I was not the youngest member of staff as there were a couple of others who were a few years younger, and quite a few others at that time were only a few years older than me. Ten years later I am 43 – very good maths you see – and there are still not very many who are younger than me and in fact only two are under 40. So I think it must be true that 40 is the new 30 and presumably in another ten years 50 will be the new 30 so I could perhaps stay 30 forever. Aw neat!

I started the day with drilling a few holes in my sheep. As you do.

And also a hole for the knob for the fairy door.

Then there was a whole bunch of other little jobs to do and I feel a real sense of satisfaction that they all got done.

I even had time to spend a little snatch planning my upcoming art project. I have just joined an art group and it has given me an incentive at last to work on something artistic. I sent an email round at work yesterday asking for models for some photos and was surprised and extremely pleased with the response so that has spurred me on to organise myself.

I need a bit of direction at times.

Not that I’m short of projects.

In fact on the subject of short, I realised today how short I am when I had to climb onto a chair to get at a box on top of a cupboard and I still couldn’t reach.

The fairy door is not for me actually this time; it’s for a present for someone. We were quite surprised to find that when the girlie googled ‘fairy door’ in images my blog pic from ages ago was on the first page.

And the sheep are for the toilet wall and they have little faces and legs made of black cord with knots for feet. I think they are quite funky really. My daughter’s friend said I should open my house for paid public inspection, she said she would definitely pay to visit my lavvy. I don’t know if she meant spend a penny.

I feel something I haven’t felt for ages, a sense of purpose.

I dare say it won’t last.

Passengers waiting for the 18.10 to Battle – for the Bonfire event – gaped in disbelief as a young man, perilously short on brain cells, nipped off the platform, jumped neatly over the tracks and onto the platform the other side. A foolish enough action in any case but an especially dumb idea to do it in front of two burly policemen. Battle was quite full of people, many of whom had taken the precaution of filling themselves with some form of alcoholic beverage to protect them from the cold and also to protect them from behaving in a sober and sensible way. My little brood for the evening consisted of three young ladies aged 17 to 18 - who drank only coke btw - and enjoyed themselves in a quiet, unobtrusive way but it was very cold. Very, very cold.

I was impressed that in a dark street I was able to spot an old friend I hadn’t seen for ages even though she had her face all blacked out but it always surprises me that in packed and crowded streets there is often the chance of unexpectedly bumping into someone you know. It was very cold though.

We only stayed for the procession but managed to enjoy a lot of the fireworks from the bench at the railway station which was probably a better view than we would have had in town. It was very, very cold at the station.

I think I have probably emphasised the cold aspect of the evening but not over-emphasised it!

It’s being an odd sort of day today, slightly disgruntly, really, but with segments of OKness to balance it out.

Went to shop. Went to shop to buy boots (unlike Helly who went to Boots to buy, etc… ). I had been eyeing up these dang boots for nearly a month but had to wait for payday. On Saturday (pre-Payday) I saw they had my size in and there were loads so I planned to go in today with my pennies. I went in and there were only size 5’s left so I wandered away in disappointment. I perused other boot retail opportunities and found something very similar in Next, AND £5 cheaper. I then bought myself a shirt for work. I had only been in a few more shops when I discovered I had lost the bag with the shirt. Then I got shooed out of Debenhams because there was a fire drill so I had to go and get a cup of coffee – and I couldn’t find the milk so I had it black, yuck. Went back to the shops I had been in and asked if anyone had turned in a shirt in a bag. They had it in Debenhams, which gave me immense relief. Then I tried on a mega expensive dress and felt depressed because it was 14 and rather a close fit only to discover when I took it off it was a 12 (I don't mind being a chunky 12 but I don't want to be a chunky 14 - again).I didn’t really like any of the sandwiches on offer in the whistle stop shop so I ended up giving a lot of the one I bought to a young seagull. So it was a bit of an uppy downy morning really.

I keep sneezing too, which is never a good sign.

And they just had that Dogs Trust ad on which makes my throat lumpy.

And on the way home on the train I thought I saw a lion in a patch of grass but it turned out to be a small pony.

I wonder what to do next.