Better out than in…

Morning my delicious treats of *walla- walla* I woke up this morning,  on sequins and feeling oddly hungover again, to say i have not sipped even the tiniest drip drop of bubbly wubbly. In my haze, I made the executive decision to clean my house from top to bottom. (I must be ill?) Oh and waking up on sequins, is never the same, if you’re simply not in Vegas. I’m expecting my Family to be back from their little meditation shindig today. (Hence, why i’m cleaning, because i want my Mother to be fooled into thinking i’m amazing and helpful, so i am laiden with gifts!)  If i don’t recieve a call within the next 2 hours, i’m going to assume that they’re dead…and that really wouldn’t be too delicious, as who’d buy me ‘in packet’ noodles, and shove them in my bag before i leave? Coming from an asian family is hilarious, when you’ve been raised in Britain. My mother truely believes that noodles are the answer to all my problems. The last time, i tried to leave, noodle free, for work. I arrived at my destination, where i was to stay for only ONE night, and as i unzipped my ‘over-nighter’ about 23 packets of noodles popped out of my bag, like a oriental rice noodle, pre packaged- Von Teese. One of them nearly knocked my eye out of my head and couldn’t even find my pearls! #devastated.

Other than that, i’m happy. I’ve peeked and poked and Cinderella’d my way to Saturday morning bliss. I had to spend the night running around my bedroom trying to kill flies with tiny *squirts* of hairspray. One day i’ll have people who will do that for me…and naked. But for right now, i’m on my own sisters! (Ooh how hot was that naked shower model on Big Brother last night! I would’ve blown the whole food budget and then some! 😉 ) I gave up, in the end, because the little leaps, exhausted me. I run on alcohol, having not had a booze up in 10 weeks is pretty much killing me…literally. I remember Dylan, (this hot boy i was once sleeping with in LA,) gave me a random strawberry flavoured powder-like vitamin drink. The kind that you add water to and apparently enjoy. He was a good boy, was Dylan. But you should have seen his face when he handed me this strawberry concotion of healthiness. He gave it to me nervously, whilst saying, ‘For most people, this is good for them. In your case, it might burn.’ 🙂 That pretty much explains my past!

[Break taken here, to phone chat! It’s my Mother! Finally!]

Anyway, i’ve forgotten what i was yabbering on about? But now i’m in a less than perfect mood. Yippee! My family aren;t back until tomorrow. It seems i got my days mixed up. Great! Well done me. I can’t even count days, let alone my blessings!

On the whole i’ve had a pretty decent morning. I’ve gandered online and taken a coy dippage in Wunna land. All the people who look after my pokery have disappeared. Wazza is in Amsterdam, NOT spazzing his money on Peep shows…and everyone else has just run away i think? I cant seem to handle all the work i have to do..which is always mildly humourous. You try and operate Wunna land SOBER! It is impossible!! I keep tryingt o slap myself, in order to see if it helps?

On August 3rd, i am to go meet up with my book people, (the Publisher and Lit.Agent) who will guide me on my way, to wordy greatness. I’m really excited for it all and i just want to get it done and dusted, i think? As of right now, i have a November release. Yet i still have to shoot for my cover and the book itself. I’m quite hands on with the process of creativity, because no-one can do ‘me’ better than Me and i’m very careful as to how i’m delivered. It may seem like a chaotic, slur of madness, but believe me, it’s that way because i want it to be. *Wink-Pout*

One of the good things about my Facebook inbox today was the messages from My best friends in LA! Ronnie and Theo. I miss them so much, it’s almost unbelievable. We’ve pretty much helped each other grow up…emotionally and physically. That’s not an easy thing to handle in tinsel town, but were we kids, trying to make something of ourselves, in one of the most competitive towns in the world…and luckily…we did!  We’ve been through it all and back! Thses boys have been my life line. We’ve seen each other through a series of outfits, moods, phases and men. It’s been magical…and painful at times. Lol.

Theo is upset because he believes i no longer adore him. I don’t think i could adore anyone MORE than i adore Theo. He’s actually coming to London in August, so i’ll get to see him, when he arrives…even though he doesn’t seem to believe i want to? lol. He writes me messages that begin with ‘Bitch seriously please….’ Lol. I love him!

Ronnie…who is my little brother ‘Hollywood’ brother is someone i miss terribly. We’ve had amazing times. I mean, i use to stick my hair extensions in his hair, make him run around in boxers and dance to Hilary Duff tracks. In our free time we got drunk and did photoshoots around the city, He’d always make me hike up Runyon canyon with him, just so we could spot half naked hotties and hit on them…rudely. I miss that. I miss him! I accompanied him on his life pretty much.

Anyway, his message to me came under the subject line of, ‘ I miss you slutbag, scally wag!’ He told me how well he was doing at school and that he was getting an MBA & MFT. I asked him if they were STD’s because if they were, i thought i was getting them to! 🙂 I’m such a great mentor! Three cheers! He’s had to put up with that for years of his life! He had a friend throw a drink in my face one time, whilst i was dressed in a T-shirt and big white fur, in Hollywood, reading ‘Ask me out!’ You’re nothing until you’ve had someone launch wine in your face! #BeMe

I can’t think of anything else that’s happened because my mum being unableto return until tomorrow has narked me off! I will tell you that, this morning, a man from Arabia, told me i was ‘…beautiful… like Black Beauty.’ Like a fucking HORSE? Niiice! That compliment is either stating that i’m a beast OR it’s just plain old racist! He doesn’t win really? Poor sod. he did try and be romantic.

Then i had a guy, who tried to woo me by pretending he saw me last night. I enjoy how boys attempt to pull this trick on me. They think i’m such a massive drunk, or such a massive floozey, a massive idiot, or even a girl that meets so many boys on a night, that i wouldn’t remember any of the ones that i did meet. I mean thety must, if they ever thought that this method of trickery would work! *WRONG ANSWER!* I’m a glamour puss, i know what i’m doing and who i’ve winked at, no matter what or where i’ve been! I remember everybody and everything! Don’t get it twisted lovers!

Anyway, he told me that i was at a club last night in LA, with one of my gay friends, and he chatted with me? He even began his conversation with ‘Do you remember me?’ Well that’s what he meant to say? It kinda came out higgledy piggledy, because he couldn’t speak English, too well. I scared him off  with a dab of delicious and then dealt with the rest of them.  I can’t handle boys in a gentle fashion before noon. I’m a very direct girl and sometimes they just don’t like me to be that way! (I had another guy, claim i was in a club in London last night and was about to give him my number. Nice try!) I’m in Pontefract right now, not drinking. You can’t pull that trickadoodee on me. I INVENTED that shit!

My big gay Samuel has decided to fancy Joe McElderry, because he’s decided to ‘come out’ and tell the world he’s gay. (Joe that is…not Samuel. Sam probably ‘came out,’ when he was 4.) Like we didn’t know that already Joe! It’s similar to the Ricky Martin thing, but way less latin and way less delicious. I really do wish that all  the boys in the world, who pretty much know that their gay, just ‘come out’ and tell everyone immediately. There’s nothing to be scared of, as you will have an army of hot fag hags, guard you from whatever danger you may encounter. Be gay, be proud and work it! When you do ‘come out’ most people will just tell you that they knew that already anyhow. Plus once i know you’re gay, i will no longer try to feel you up against your will on late Friday nights. It’s a win/win for everyone!

I mean Ronnie for example, the first time we met, he told me he was terrified. I asked him if he was gay (I already knew he was) and he replied with a ‘No.‘ I immediately corrected him (because there ws no way in hell a straight boy could work a pair of hips as well as i could) and now he rejoices it to the world. Like with farts…it’s better out than in! I hope that he was actaully gay and i sisn’t just turn him gay! Oops! It happens!

I had loads to write, but i don’t really have time now. I have to shower and meet up with Loverboy. I’m moody today,which will be fun! I can’t be arsed with blogging at all today! Maybe i’m just hungry?

 

Ronnie  & Theo. My two best buds!

 

Boys, Blood & Buxom Wraths

Happy late evening. I’m sorry i haven’t blogged all day, but i woke  up this morning on a grey/blue reclining chair, in a room that is referred to as a ‘grandmother’s living room.’ I had a maroon blanket over my pretty  little self, and was sleeping next to a cabinet filled to the brim with ‘saving for a marvellous occasion’ wine glasses. I could see the refelction of the room through the cabinet glass. It was like the wine glasses were showing me my life!

I looked to my right, at approximately 9.58am and mid-squint, i realized that ‘Loverboy’ (my handsome hero) was on a grey/blue recliner next to me, with a blue blanket upon him. We had fallen asleep watching telly the evening before. He usually wakes me up at some hour of sin, in order to drive me home. However, last night, he watched me sleep, wanted me near him and therefore kept me all for himself. It’s kinda the same theory as being held hostage, yet hotter, because you pretty much get everything you want…and with kisses. I even asked him to show me his bum and with a, ‘But mine’s not as good as yours,’ he gave me a 2 second peek. I LOVE my life!

Not only was i being held hostage..(and boy i was the hottest hostage in town) but i also got breakfast in bed! Well that’s if you pretend the recliner was ‘bed,’ and technically, last night, it was! This is why i LOVE being a curvy kitty of ‘ooh.’ Boys want to feed you, love you and take care of you. I also actually had a wonderful nights sleep. I felt stress free, safe and 100% loved. I don’t know whether i deserve this, but i’m going with it anyway. Well done me!

Loverboy and I had had a GREAT day. One of those lovely, flirty ones, where you giggle and make fun of each other, through *winks* and looks of love. He always looks at me, like i’m the best thing to ever happen to him. It makes me feel special and almost as if, i’ve found someone who’s just like….me! I’ve actually found someone who’s foolish enough to do ‘forever’ with me. Woohoo! I can’t believe my luck. Ran away from the horrors of London and a horrific boy and landed myself a little true love! Hurrah! Drinks for everyone …but me! *Looks at the Ribena and sighs.*

My advice to anyone going through relationship problems, is to KNOW that at the end of it all, there IS a Prince or Princess waiting for you. I never believed there was ONE person for everyone, until I met this boy. I mean you know me, i wouldn’t cream you will bullshit. I’m a straight talker, with a cocktail, and vixen strut. I’ve been through awful times with boys, who claimed to ‘love’ me. Yet i’ve noticed that one of the good things about me, is that i never let men treat me poorly for long.  I give them their moment to really show me how awful they are, then i *strut* off happily, knowing i can do so much better! I’m not one to keep going back. I regard myself as a really tolerant person. Once i’m done with you, i’m done and i will NOT have ANYONE treat me with a horrific batter of disrespect…and why? Because i not only know my worth, but i am HARDLY EVER disrespectful to others! If, i am..it’s for the random sake of humour and we all love a bit of *ha ha,* at times. Innit! I’ve made some terrible choices when it’s come to men. I don’t know whether it was because i felt lonely, or needy or whether i was just plain old inexperienced in my youth? Yet even to this day the majority of them try to contact me, in order to re-date. *Yawn.* If you messed up the first time..that’s your own fault.  I’m a Wunna, we march on! (Oh and if you can’t handle it all the bad relationships before your ‘true love’ comes, my kittens…just drink. 🙂 )

I thank CUPID every DAY, for blessing me with Loverboy. Thank God there was a light at the end of the tunnel, because i was beginning to think there was entirely no hope for me at all, with men! If it hasn’t already happened to you..it will. Just keep putting one jimmy choo infront of the other. Baby steps! ALL THE WAY!

You kind of sort of, HAVE to go through a bad relationship, or a bundle of bad, (as i did) in order to reach your ‘match.’ Your purrfect match that is! The heartache sort of trains you up for you’re true love. If i hadn’t had gone through all those bad pieces of ‘thought you were forever,’ I would never have learnt to appreciate such a decent boy. We are fated to be together. He’s the closest thing to me and like i keep saying we have a fairytale love. I’m even jealous of myself. 😉 If i’m being honest, i don’t just love him because he’s delicious, sweet and romantic. I love him because he refound me and re-taught me about love, life and a part of me i thought i had completely lost. I’ve learnt so much from him without him even knowing. He’s shown me a whole new way to do life…yet this time with a quality goodness, instead of a slutty smear of drunken of sin. (I’m currently snacking on Pickled onion Monster Munch! They are to DIE for!)  

On a different note…Where the hell is my Mother? Like where is my family?? They’ve ventured off for almost 10 days, (and left me like little orphan Annie, but with money and not ginner,) to enjoy the world of  meditation..something i can’t do, because i swear.. sitting in one place for that long, with crossed legs would kill me. You can reform a floozy, but you simply can’t  put her infront of Buddha and tell her to contemplate her thoughts for 17 hours a day, in a lotus position! I only do missionary! (That’s how long they’re meditating for! 17 hours a day)

Anyway they were meant to be returning today and yeah…i’ve had no phone calls, not contact, no word from any Wunna and AT ALL? Where are they?? Maybe it really did out do them, this time? I mean, I’m starting to get angry and stressed. I need a break from playing ‘keeper of the house.’ I’ve already accidentally killed there domestic pets and plants. I need to pamper and feel like a woman again. I’ve even mopped the floor…like MOPPED for gods sake. Hear my PAIN!

I can’t do this anymore. They need to come home. They said 10 days. It’s been ten. Now return! Everytime i think about it, i want to gauge my own eyes out. I have scratch marks all over my body from being clawed to death by animals and bruises from door knobs. I have fleas investing my body, my life and i just need to get a spary tan and my nails done. This is the longest i’ve ever gone without taking care of myself. I’m a  GLAMOUR PUSS! And not someone that’s meant to be put in some sort of position of responsibility. I do HAIR, not other peoples house work. I WINK & WIGGLE not walk the fricking wheely bins! I’m exhausted and i need a facial. (Not that kind boys! 🙂 ) I sure as hell hope they’ve found total emlightenment. They’re gonna need it, to help protect them from my buxom wrath of ‘ooh!!’

[OKAY, i need to chill pill it before i start to super dolly explode! Now..breathe…..:) Lets fly a subject change!]

Anyway yeah, on a much nicer note…because i’m wanting to forget i’m angry. Did i tell you that this morning i got breakfast in bed, mid being a hostage and being hidden in a room? Yeah! I was gifted with toast, bacon, a poached egg, and tomatoes. Best hostage situation ever! Then i got kissed, after a cuppa tea, a bit of a bum, show, and a Ribena (because i was craving one.) Life couldn’t be better! I had slept in my makeup and let me tell you, not a single horrific smear was on my face when i rose. I had my full glamour pussy face on, with not even an eyelash out of place. (That’s a lie, i did have to re-glue my right one. But i’m ageing…my eyelids, got tired of carrying them.)

I’ve having a wonderful time, a wonderful life, and being told by doctors that i might have alpha thalessemia. I had to take Loverboy to Pontefract hospital yesterday for a blood test. He’s not so keen on the art of blood  extraction. Not only was he the cutest little thing you had even seen. (I felt like i was his mum. I had to buy him sweets for after.) Yet for the first time he was all vunerable and child like. I loved every moment of it. We both play up to a child like role with each other. I mean you should hear how we talk to each other. It’s like we’re 5 1/2 years old…but happy.  We’re having a *thing-a-ling* gifted into our lives, so our blood tests are currently super dooper important. Apparently only ethnics can get alpha thalassemia. Trust me to end up *Might* having some kind of racist blood disorder. Niice! That’ll help me pull all the handsomes! (‘Hold me, i’m horny…don’t let the infection worry you.’) Lmao. For the first time, my first thought when i was informed with the fact that i might have this thalessemia deliciousness, i didn’t think ‘Woohoo, another way for me to get attention.’ I actually thought about my little glamour puss to be. I’m actually going to be a really decent loin to be birthed from. I’m shocked! I need gin to celebrate! (I might have to lick a picture of a cocktail instead. Is that wrong?) Wazza’s gone to Amsterdam! Hellooo stag do!

 

A little bit of nonsense

Woken up mildy stressed, due to being unable to sleep. I have ants all over me and i don’t know how they got there? If my kittens are now giving me fleas, i’m going to give them away. (I am joking. I’m a sucker for punishment. The more fleas they give me the more i’ll love them.) I had them scratching at my boudior door at 7am, this morning begging for attention. It was like having my own ego haunt me. You’d think they would want food, or cuddles. NO! Putu my baby kitten, wanted me to do her face…as in use her blusher brush, to brush her face until she went back to sleep. If this is what Motherhoods going to be like. I’m doomed. I can’t even look after a bunch of slutty CATS, let alone an actual ‘life.’ I’ve only just got mine under control and it’s taken me almost 30 fricking YEARS! (I’m looking for rubber gloves and i don’t know why? That’s how insane i am this morning!)

Last night, i dreamt of cake, with Wazza. We were buying chocolate eclairs, the delicious fresh cream sort and he was telling me not to drink beer. God knows where we were, but dreamland’s like that, you could be on the moon having tea with Wazza, asking him to play naked Twister. (Not that i’d want to play Twister. It’s a game that always confused me…clothed. 😉 ) I’ve been called on a ‘Private’ number 4 times this morning. Who is it? No message. Not important. That’s the rule i fly by! *Winky-wiggle*

Today, i get to leave the circus that is my HOME and be the moral support for Loverboy, who has a blood test today. He needs a ‘hand holder.‘ I’ll probably hold others things, but i’ve promised him *goodies* if he’s a brave boy. He’s pissed off today, due to a distinct lack of sleep. Work schedules get the better of him…but only when he’s not happy. But at least i get to cheer him up…even if it means making a twat of my pretty self. I’m an entertainer and proud. I don’t know how it will really go, because to be honest i’m dead squeemish. I’m a shit ‘hand holder’ when blood is invovled. But whatever, it’s important. This is all to make sure our *thing-a-ling* does not have to live life…disabled.

 He’s informed me he’s going to scream ‘YOU DID THIS TO ME,’ mid-taking of blood. Odd thing to do really, when you’re at the mercy of a midwife, who will need you to be calm, since she has a big needle jabbed in your arm. (UGH…i have fucking ants everywhere!!)

I’m currently craving an older motherly figure to litter my life for a day, until my Mother gets back. I need the warmth and love of one. It’s weird how that happens innit. The absence of my mum, is making me feel such a way. Maybe that’s why people date certain people? The folk that wish to be popular or confident, will date someone of that sort. A girl, who had a shitty relationship with her father, will often go for an older man. Someone who is wanting to hold onto their youth (Hello Wunna) will date younger and a chick who grew up wiht no money, will dig for someone with lots of it. Pete’s gone for an older woman…and he’s adopted. He’s never met his biological parents, so maybe and subconsciously he goes for a Mother type figure. He’s close to his mummy… ( the family that are HIS family now,) who i love, because she’s is one of the only mums that doesn’t despise my existance. She’s nicer to me than my own mum! Haha!

Shit, i have to go, my phones ringing…andi have so much to say! UGH! Ah well..no rest for the sexual. Am i gonna getr away with wearing pink jogging bottom cut offs today and heels?

Everything is just ACE!!!!!

The naughty in me has come out and i can’t stop the *shimmie* from a shaking, so help me GOD! I was feeling all sorry for my rather pretty self, *flutter-flutter-sympathy please* and then i slapped on ‘Don’t let me start without you’ by Alexandra Burke and like i was on crack dipped Jolly Ranchers, the *cheeky cheeky* started to bubble in my system and now i feel completely over the moon. I feel playful, utterly joyous and almost as if i could leap off Cloud 9, build myself a Cloud 10 and tell all you kittens, to join me, in your best heels! (And i’m not even drunk! Wish i was though. It is a vice i am beginning to miss deeply. 7 Months to go!)

I would actually always *wiggle* around to this song (not knowing who it was by)  in a black BSM fiat, with Loverboy, as my moment, on motorways. We’d play if full blast, wind up the windows, so we didn’t look like complete twateroos, and well piss take dance, like the happiest of hot fricking campers!

I don’t know why i’m feeling so ace, but life is just dealing me a jolly good hand and i’m happy. Simple as that! I couldn’t have jig-sawed it together any better? My life has  been re-glued and re-glued, all over the globe, until it finally worked. For once i feel solid. I’m going through an unbelievable profund phase of change…great change! I’ve shocked myself..but i never did give up, did i? Well done ME!

On a more delicious note,  I’ve also been proposed to a fan called ‘Bobby’ in Africa, and men in kilts have been sending me pictures of themelves, asking if i think they’re fat! Haha. I love my life! I’ve also managed (mid-wiggle) to stress Wazza out completely and make his second guess his whole entire existance…(that’s what friends are for) and i other than that,  i’m enjoying how boys are attempting to *woo*me (‘Here Chrissie, listen to this song i want to dedicate to you. It’s called Pussy,’ ) and yeah…as per usual, I pretty much look *SIZZLE* bitches! I don’t know why boys bother going down the sexual route of trying to pull me, because it NEVER works. I had a guy facebook me called ‘Peter Minty Stimson.’ In order to ‘woo’ me he wrote me this (under the subject title ‘Hi Chicken’ : ‘ Still wana c u with spunk in your mouth and me fingers up your arse.Inbox me if your dirty.Cant wait.Xxx’

If he looked mildy Brad Pitt like, i would’ve let him off. (You have to really don’t you. I mean i wouldn’t have liked it, but i would’ve let him off..with a *Blank.*) Yet because he had a face like a Bulldog and not a cute one you want to pet, but an unloved one that you want to kick (in the face, repeatedly, or pissing on your shoes,) i informed him of how disgusting he was…but Wunna style. 🙂 I then deleted him. Funny, but not funny guy. The sexual aprocah doesn’t fly with me. I’m ingenius at it. Rubbish attempts at pervy Tom Foolery will simply be a *yawn.* (Note: The boys that scored me, where the boys that told me they loved me. Mean it or not…learn it…quickly! I enjoy, love, fun and romance. The bedroom is a department i own and you aren’t on the list!) Men are just thick sometimes. I mean that ‘Minty blah blah’ guy, is really a bad guy?  He just thinks he’s funny and doesn’t know how to approach a Glamour Puss, other than making himself look like a twat. That’s what i find more disappointing. The distinct lack of Swagger! But whatever, i’m joyous right now, i’m filing that away and enjoying my evening with party poppers!

I’m missing being the life and soul of any party, i missing getting my gin on and my wiggle on. I want to *shimmie* gleefully, until i go blind and i keep telling everyone that my ‘body is a weapon.’ (Oh dear!) Why am i getting a *Flashback* of this boy i dated called Tommy, driving up to my old LA appartment on Kings rd, that i shared with a lawyer, and throwing a box of my things at me? 🙂 It must’ve been a happy moment. All i remember is the car was red, on loan and i fianlly got my ‘Dirt’ belt back. The relationship i could sacrifice. But i did miss his penis. I cried over it for whole days. (Sooo glad, i’m not with him now. Great great friend! Rubbish boyfriend.)

Life is good. Doing happy dances and everything. Tomorrow Loverboy goes in for his ‘bambino’ blood-test. He’s working all today, and i’m missing him loads!! It’s a good feeling. I can’t believe i forgot Leeds Pride was this Sunday!!! God, i need food! I’m gonna enjoy a night in, with my ego!

‘Peter Minty Stimson’ (below… definitely a ‘keeper’)

Deep Deep Trouble.

I am in BIG SHIT! So yesterday, i had zero internet connection, because the Gods of Cyberland, who are usually quite welcoming, cut me out of their ‘decent wireless connection’ life. Something happened, and i needed to blog. Ofcourse, and because i’m Chrissie Wunna, i strutted to the upstairs study, which has now been turned into a temple, to *panic* myself onto the computer and release my mind, body and spirit of the *drama* that was burdening me, ever so muchly.

I get to my computer…it fools me into believing the worlds a safer place and then gives me a dirty *middle finger* and refuses to let me vent on the world wide web! Heellllooo? I’m an attention whorey, blogging genius! I NEED my blog, in times of *panic.* I have a druggie like addiction to it. You had never seen me so wild…apart from that one time I told Harriet that i had an argument with a washing basket and stabbed a sausage. Infact, due to her being the same kind of hormonal, i sent her a text last night, informing her that i would hide sausages around her life, so that she could get anrgy and stab them. Unfortunately, she isn’t in her *angry* phase and apparently cried to a tribute to Lisa Left Eye Lopez, a couple evenings ago. Haha.)

Anyway, when i couldn’t get my own, ‘working internet’ way. And it’s all about me getting my own way. When i don’t get dealt a good hand and i deserve to, i’m usually devasted.

I *hair-tossed.* I *breathed* it out. (Breathing never fucking works. You just look like a horny chimpanzee.) Then after deliciously tantruming, i began blaming others for my beautiful faults. (My ex-husband used to say my ‘faults were what made me beautiful.’ Well he didn’t say that towards the end 🙂 Plus, i’m sh0cked because my best faults didn’t really mature until AFTER the divorce? I became a LEGEND!)

Anyway, bottom line and because i’m jabbering on about nonsense, in ordet to try and avoid the fact that i’m in deep trouble. I have been left in charge of my Mother’s house during her absence to a meditation retreat, in Wales. She’s taken the rest of The Wunna’s with her and left me behind, due to me being the most responsible Wunna, which apparently means i can take care of shit. (‘Mmmkay!’ Do a little black girl, head twist here.) I’ve also been left behind because i’m hormonal.

I’d been doing really well…(10 days she’s gone for, and on Friday, THIS Friday she returns) except, (and please do note, that i hadn’t been doing really well at all. It’s been the most stressful ‘a bit longer than a week’ EVER!) The place is like a circus, and i am covered in sin, scratch marks, the adoration of Loverboy and *puzzled* faces.

Annnway…my Mummy has her favourite kitten. Remember we have 8 and yeah, i know you’re not supposed to pick favoruites, but we all do, it’s how The Wunna’s work. Favourite children, favourite kittens, favourite boys, favourite drinks. It keeps everyone on their toes. *Wink-pout.*

Anyway, Mum’s favourite kitten..which she seemed to have named ‘Lucky Boo,’ (you will see the irony in this shortly,) is now dead. UGH!!! Not only am i gutted, but ofcourse, on my watch, under my supervision, Lucky, just so happens to leap over something sharp (that my Mother would always tell my brother off for leaving on the side table) and well almost in the worst, most awful cartoon fashion ever, have things fall ontop of him and now not be alive.

I thought he was asleep and yeah in a bit of an odd position? But i’m a previously drunken Glamour Puss, i’ve woken up in odder forms, in many a land. I venture down the next morning, before my romantic day with Loverboy, in Pontefract. (He was taking me to Specsavers, to buy sight, and also buying himself a 2010-2011 diary, It makes him feel organized.

 Then we gobbled up KFC fillet burger meals, and saw Wunna fans who wiggled with me for giggly moments of joy, as i took my KFC out of the store. I was mildy popular yesterday, because i did everything HOT. I looked like an England Team cheerleader, tiny pleated shirt, little top, wiggly bum, big boobies, eyelashes and googly eyes.  I loved every moment of it…as did random male passersby, with cocky, but confident smiles, and well ofcourse my little Petey…who is pretty much now, my EVERYTHING. I’d die for this boy. God, knows how he’s done it, but i’m in love and i’ve never felt so safe. When i’m with him, i’m in this little bubble of ‘ooh.’ Different people bring out, a different side to you and he seems to bring out a dolly softness in me. It’s like we’re kids in love for the first time. He’s just gorgeous and loves me a great deal more deeply now. I can tell because he’s started getting possessive.

There was a big muscley, yellow tight topped old man,  trying his luck with the curly haired ‘Glamour Puss,’ outside W H Smiths yesterday. He was old and a bit rotten, but confidentally  smiled at me with a sense of ‘You want this, don’t you!’ I didn’t really repsond because i’m not disrespectful to Loverboy. I mean i’d HATE HATE it, if he did that to me. But i did noticed that I had never been so calmly *PUSHED* into a shop more quickly, then I had at that moment. I liked it. Loverboy loves what’s his and doesn’t like others tampering with his ‘Forever after.‘ It’s sexy!

He then spent the whole time cuddling me openly, so ‘yellow muscle guy’ could see that we were ‘in love’ and that he had ‘won,’ the WH Smiths battle of Heroes. (Technically, i won. I was loved all around. 10 points to me.  Yipeee.) Loverboy. continued to slag him off in the car. Lol. Pete’s usually quite placid, so seeing him mildy heated, is delicious. I could’ve kissed him forever, but our fillet burgers were far too distracting and we needed to rush to get back home, so his Father could take his grandmother for a new hearing aid. She told me that whenever she talks, it’s almost like her voice is on volume 10, even when she’s whispering. I have a voice like that naturally, and maybe deliberately. When i lose my hearing, i’m (what’s the word?) Oh yeah…fucked!

I’ve rambled haven’t I? What i wanted to say….Lucky Boo, my youngest kitten is no more. 🙁 Playing got the better of him and well…we’re like trees, with thick roots. We choose how we want to grow. He went for the leap of faith, kinda like I would’ve done and is now resting peacefully in the heavens. I have 7 more to keep safe before Friday evening. I’m in BIG shit! I only like trouble that i canhide of balme others for. This sucks. Everythime she goes to that meditation retreat, something or someone dies! Last time, it was nearly my dad. ‘Oh hi mum, yeah. Dads hearts stopped beating and he’s in hospital. Sorry.’

This time…it’s the kitten. She never learns. Meditation retreats in Wales = Bad news. (See how i’m attempting to push the blame onto my own absent Mother.)

 

A wee little reminder

A granny on a train told me to notice how every young person around me, had ear phones in or head phones on, like they were trying to block out the world around them. She told me she believed that the youth of today were terrified of being bored, or still, or simply alone. They needed constant simulation in order to feel safe or happy.

I found what she said interesting and she found the fact that i was the only ’20 something or younger’ that was actually conversing with her openly. You’re not meant to talk to strangers, but if you do, life is gets a little bit saucier. I’m not afraid of a bit of the old ‘stranger banter.‘ I’m more afraid of the fact that one day i’ll die and my whole entire life, my whole entire existance will be forgotten. I will regret not talking to every single stranger i saw in an elevator, train, bedside or meeting. Plus, regret, as i well know, is a little fucker that will eat away at you until the end of time. Turning back that clock is impossible. Make bold decisions, but MAKE SURE THEY ARE RIGHT for YOU! (Why am I covered in Fleas! Not very Glamour Pussy.)

I then looked to my left and saw a young twenty something girl, quite sweet, quite plain, looked flustered, like she worked in an office and did far too much for her pay. Her hair was all starggly and she looked like she had just been suffering from a broken heart. She was dressed in black, and in an outfit that would suggest she didn’t want to get noticed. I watched her look starving and reach into her bag, that was filled with her entire ‘life’ and pull out a tupperware box. (I hate tupperware. I find ‘boxing off’ my life into cheap plastic squares of air tight liddage is sinful. Infact, i don’t get why people go to Tupperware parties!?! What are you thinking? Parties aren’t for buying Tupperware, they are for dancing in nipple tassles after a few too many gins, to ‘Take that’ songs that you forgot you liked and maybe with bongos. I don’t want to buy perfectly sized plastic boxes! I want to waste my money shoving it into the speedos of go-go dancing boys! (I’m getting a *Flashback*of a boy named Scott in LA, who was an adopted go-go dancing boy, who was straight, but go-go danced at a gay bar. Can’t remember which one now? But i do remember cowboys? He was not a cowboy however. He was on all fours in a pink speedo, beckonning me over, and giving me his number that he had written on a reciept. For some reson he really fell in love with me, and beofre our first date. But weirdly the seeing him on all fours, wiggling in a pink speedo, put me off him. He just wanted to be loved and well that meant he wasn’t for me. I want someone to love ME, who I am, who i stand for and not just be filling  a void of ‘need love.’ and ‘any’ love at that! Eww, i hate that ‘falshback’ on Mondays I always feel bad, because i said i would go on a date with him and i just didn’t. UGH! Bad form Wunna)

Anyway, back to the hungry plain girl….She then pulled out what seemed like the tiniest salad, fit for an elf, who was maybe anorexic and i watched her eat it like she had to and not because she wanted to. eat the things thatnake you happy…not the things that make you thin.  It’s sad to see a woman under that kind of pressure. How has this happened? Where is that spirit of ‘ooh laa,’ that Monore magic, full of deliciousness,love humps, sequins, and lighting. When girls were all showy, glamourous and bold. When a woman ate cake, to celebrate their existance. When Chrissie Wunna strutted in with that cheeky glint that suggested ‘playtime.’

I looked at her and smiled, She looked at me, scanned my body with her eyes then looked away…not even acknowledging my *smile.* Eww! When i’m happy, you need to make the most of it. You don’t want to be on the otherside of bitchy Wunna. When i’m smiling, i’m telling you i hear you, especially when you think no-one else does. That girl looked at me like i was the sheer sin of the world and i didn’t even have my ‘Hollywood bounce’ naughty curls in. I felt sorry for her, for a good few moments. I thought i  had a train friend. Then her scowl put me off her and made me glad that i was about to eat a banana nut muffin to the wise words of the ever so informative grandmother sitting opposite me. I ate ti sexaully to make her mad. I’m immature, i know, (haha) but i just don’t like bad behaviour, when it’s not done by me.

I’m currently re-reading through ym weekend bbm’s and i have this great one from my gay ‘Edd.’ We’ve been discussing the art of trapping and training boys. (Like ya do, on a Sunday, the day of GOD!) I told him some useless knowledge like you have to fool the boy into thinking he can’t live without you. He replied with a, ‘Fool? FOOL?? He will BELIEVE!!…It’s like clapping if you believe in fairies. You just do it.’

I need to get showered. My book thing is now scaring me. I’ve completely forgotten about all the stuff that i wrote in the early days of ‘chrissiewunna.com.’ I’ve changed so muc over the last month let alone the last couple of years. but ah well, i guess that’s the beauty of human existance. Or ME! I wonder how they’re gonna piece it all together? Scary much!

Red chilli, Dogtags and sex

Happy MONDAY, you divine dips of deliciousness. I’m tremendously merry this morning, filled to the brim with Va Voom. I’m cheery, i’m chipper, i’ve recieved shocking great morning news, and well i can’t think of a better way to start my day, than with morning news that makes you smile. I obviously can’t tell you about it, because I’ve been instructed to file it under *Top Secret.* The good thing however, is that usually when people tell me to keep things *hush-hush*…i tell everyone…NO! I’M JOKING. (Ha.) What i meant to say is that, the good thing is about ‘don’t tell anyone’s’ is that the passer of the whispery secret, (even though mine was computery and via text) usually gives into temptation. Within a week, what was supposed to be *Top shelved* away from the ears of the roaring public, ends ups being good town gossip. But anyway, it’s Monday, i’m HAPPY and therefore i instruct each and every one of you to rejoice and be happy also. Infact be anything beginning with ‘H.‘ Hippy, happy, horny or Hindu? You might aswell, as it’ll probably rain later and we’ll all be miserable once more. *Weeps.* I’m telling you, there’s something in the air today, or even a trickle in our water! There’s a goodness of merriment a spreading through the lands and yes…i do sound like i’m on uppers, (please, i’d never wish that upon my pretty self again. I was like a clockwork dolly, all boobied and ready to explode. I’m so anti drugs now, it’s unbelievable. Being 20 in Hollywood really did get the better of me, during those times. I thought i had a *swagger* in my step, but really i was just falling.) Yippee!

Anyway, let me take you back to Saturday night. Loverboy picked me up to take for a little treat of *dinner dinner.*We all love a bit of *din dins* and he was especially craving ‘chinese.’ So i popped into his car, with my boobies in their most perfect position. (I’m clever, Pete is one who loves the ladies ‘love bumps.’ The fastest way to make him submit, is to ‘get them out.’ Well tease him with thet art of feminity!) He loves a curvy girl and i’m talking all the way. On a drive home once he asked me what the fattest man i have ever slept with was? (Erm…? I haven’t a fat man before. Not that i wouldn’t, they just haven’t crossed my path. Most of the boys i’ve dated have been delicious, buff models. I parade my conquests around like they’re meat! Plus, if i’m being honest, i don’t think a fat man, is the same as a curvy girl. 🙂 )

Anyway Pete once slept with a size 14 and loved every horny moment of it. He likes to be overpowered by the body of a woman. I’ve noticed this just recently. Whenever i’m *on top* he can’t handle his emotions as well, as he could during my *on my back* phase. I don’t think he minds being dominated by women. It kinda turns him on? I’m little but i’ve got all my lumps and bumps in all the right places. I feel sexy when i’ve had that extra bread roll with dinner. Its actually quite lovely to have a man that enjoys a curvy womans body. I’m under no pressure to be thin and when i feel sexy, i AM sexy. Purr….*down tiger.*

We ended up at the ‘Red Chilli’ in Leeds. It’s by Millenium square and was actually amazing. It wasn’t quite dark yet, so we drifted in from the dusky ‘not quite day, but not quite night’ light, and into this magical world of asian enchantment.

We had a corner table away from everyone esle, who centred the restuarant. Yet as i looked down upon it, it was dark, delicious, and sensual, covered with sexy giant dragonned walls, chandeliers, and a dark green mood lighting. It was like China town and the Emerald city in one.

Loverboy is currently feeling really comfortable with me. When we’re away from one another, he sort of loses his connection with me, and turns into this shy mess of a boy. When we spend all our time together. he feels empowered and strong and starts to *comfort* in. (Which i love.)

We laughed, joked, and loved all night. We’re one of those sexy couples, that look like they’re having the time of our lives. The starter, dinner and dessert was amazing! Topped off with sake, beer and Appletiser.

When we eat, we fall in love, yet Pete’s *horn beast* got the better of him though. It was his two favourite things on the menu, beef and boobs. I told him i loved him at one point, between courses. He didn’t even hear me because he was so enthusiastically scoffing down his mutton, like there was no tomorrow (sorry, it was lamb, not beef.) He sort of cutely looked up unaware after i shouted at him, gave my boobs a quick glance, smiled and went back down to lamb scoffing! Hahaa…Then he had the cheek to tell me to use my charm of *winking* in order to get the waiters attention so he could purchase another drink. Like i need to be told to use my winking powers. I was using them all night, whenever he looked down. 😉

This is all sounding hideious, but believe me it was hilarious. We’re mightily in love and well life is just too darn good between us right now. The staff threw a coupkle of watermelon slices and warm hand towels at us, to make us leave. We did, and went back to his for cuddles.

That night, Pete and I ended up in nothing but dogtags, outside my home, tending to the making love thing. I always tease him and get him all wound up sexually, then say something like i have a ‘headache’ or i feel ‘sick.’ 🙂 He’ll then get all frustrated and moaney…like they do and then i’ll let him enjoy me. It makes him feel like he’s *won* something, and the *rumpy* is always better. I mean it’s good anyway. We’re a romantic, sensual couple. But Loverboy feels as though i’m always scoreboarding him after a bit of the old ‘hows ya father?’

I’m the best sexual partner he’s ever had…but really that’s not saying much, since his first sexual experience, was with an outdoor garden climbing frame. (#Don’task. He told me yesterday by a couple of wheely bins.)

Life is all good right now, and i’m feeling *wa-woo-wee.* I had a delicioous Sunday dinner, cooked by his Mummy for the whole entire family yesterday and i attemtped to try and make Loverboy buy his niece a lilac, giant ball pool! Wait for it! That was in the shape of a SWAN!! A SWAN! Heelllooo AMAZING! (I like extravagant gifts.)  Quite sensibly he went with a doll. It was her first ever one. (The Wunna girly influence is a creeping in. I’m liking it. Next week she’ll be pouting and demanding a vodka with her veg.)

Anyway i hope you’re well, Hindu or happy? Big big winks. (This time last year, i was teaching young teenage girls how to creep into auditoriums for free and stalk George Sampson. Best bad influence in town bitches.)

Chrissie Wunna

I am a Goddess…who tumble dries

So last night was full of magic, tv, kitten stroking and much needed alone time. I’m really loving alone time right now, because i get to do whatever i want, whenever i want. Not that i don’t anyway? Yet, when i’m with people, i very much know that i am partially ‘on show.’ Don’t get me wrong, I LOVE being ‘on show.’ Yet sometimes a kitten, just needs her own space of luxury. I’m waving the flag for independancy and have been doing since i was 3. I wanted to stay at preschool and party even after it closed. My Mother..(well childminder, as my Mother was always working) had to DRAG me out of there, kicking and screaming. I wanted to continue getting my *wiggle* on, by the building blocks, with my pigtails, frilly socks, and *wink* factor. Apparently even at that age, i would make the nursery lady, fill my plastic cup only a quarter full of orange squash. I’d then carefully sip it like it was gin and pretend my ‘Party ring’ biscuits were some kind of delicious french finger food handed out to only the A-list of social stardom.

I was a ‘HIT’ at preschool, yet no-one knew why i had slanty eyes? I remember always getting yelled at because i was still using my baby’s bottle. I loved that thing with a passion..and it kinda gave me a skill that would come in handy much later on in life. 😉

Preschool rocked, because everyone wanted to play with me. However, after my ginned up orange squash, and french finger food, Party ring biscuits, they would rather unglamourously make us all march out into the back garden, in single file and pretend we were frogs, mid-sing-a-long. I despised this, as my shyness got the better of me. I was a Queen, not a frog, and having to go through verses of ‘Four little speckled frogs’ was almost pretty devastating. Did she not see my socks? They were on legs, that were to be pictured for magazines in the future and worshipped by over horned males, across the entire globe. They CERTAINLY weren’t created to be squatted and bent towards my ears, whilst i croaked like a frog to pass the time of childhood. (Well maybe at some point in my twenties and in Hollywood, I hit the same position. But that was well worth the pain and probably got me a few free dinners. I remember getting taken out on so many dates, during that time of my life. That i actually, by the age of 24 was completely and utterly SICK to DEATH of lobster and champagne dinners. Bouji much! I have loved my life! 😉 I never knew why guys always wanted to wine me and dine me? But i never questioned it. I learnt that i was a girl, and a feminine one at that. I embraced all things lady like and wonderous. It’s just part of life, i guess? Men WILL want to take you out to dinners, if you flaunt your femininity and when you’re a girl, what else can you do! Don’t hide behind the fear of being noticed. Be noticed and do it well! When you’re a girl, you will get away with it a GREAT deal MORE!

Don’t listen to the men that hate on women like that and simply because they’re just jealous that they can’t slip into a tiny dress and strut from one side of the room, to the other and end up with 20 free drinks, 14 phone numbers, and 4 proposals of marriage in their hands. They have to do the catching, the pulling, the good old jiggery pokery…so life isn’t as easy for them. You’re a lot more powerful than you think you are chicks! Remember that! (Or forever be buying microwave meals for one.)

Anyway, today when i woke up, 26 years on from preschool, i felt half dodgey, but much much better than i did yesterday. It took me a while to beable to make myself get up, due to my sickness, yet after a good old *Wiggle-wink & hair-toss* i was right as rain, (even though i feel rain is hardly right) and ready to take on my weekend.

I don’t know what got into me, but something must have warped my brain, as i began to be under the misconception that i was some sort of domestic goddess? I am not kidding, i have flipping scrubbed the floors, washed the dishes, tumbled dried the clothes, cleaned out the cat litter, posed, pouted and leapt…and all in an hour! It was like i was on crack. (Which as we all know, is whack. No Whitney! No!) I mean, if you had been infront of me for more than a second too long, you would’ve got a jolly old scrub down to! I don’t know what’s wrong with me? And why do i want Ivana Trump to be my slave?

Anyway, like i said, all was well, i had a smile on my face, a glint in my eye. I was curling my hair with one hand and yabbering on the phone in the other. (Bbm’ed bantered with Mark Byron this morning. I miss him and his McParty ways. They were all out in Liverpool last night. Rodrigo included and well the fact that his ‘eyese went rotten’ means they had a good night. Woohoo! Sight is over-rated. If you have tons of friends, you don’t need to beable to see. They will foolishly guide you, through your horrific evening of ‘party party’…and they’ll be doing it blind also. It’s a ‘win/win’ really. (Well if ‘win/win’ means ‘lose/lose.’) Which reminds me, i need to go to Specsavers. I’ve run out of contact lenses. I hate going because it always takes them donkey’s years to find my file. It’s ‘Wunna’...not ‘Warner.’ Yes, I’m blind, not bitchy.

Since the day had been going so well, i thought i’d treat my pretty self to a rest. So I sauntered upstairs to have a lay down (being a glamour puss AND a domestic goddess, is exhausting.) I look at my phone, which i had accidentally left by the bed, and notcied that i had 3 missed calls from Pete. One of the calls he had dialled as an ‘Unknown’ which i find hilariously random. If i don’t answer the first time, he always thinks i’m about to do a runner and i’m avoiding him. I always ask him why he called ‘unknown’ and he always lies every time. LOL. It’s funny.

I call him back, and he’s straight in with the ‘House hunting’ news. Like i said before, i hate house hunting and the sheer fear of the commitment, gets to me. It terrifies me and makes me feel all pressured, rushed, pushed and forced. Whenever, i’ve moved in with guys before it’s ended pretty badly. Depp downinside of me, there must be some kind of emotional pain or fear, that makes me *tantrum* whenever he begins his desent on that particualr subject. i can feel it coming on and i begin to panic. I mean, i’ve been through some really hard times with boys, in the past and it’s something that he doesn’t realize. Add commitment phobe to that, and you have a problem. I’m going through a lot right now, with the book, my LA drama, my family being away, my ‘thing-a-ling’ and my relationship. It’s just a highly emotional time and after a stint in London where i felt emotionally used and battered, that i finally sort of feel safe, after years of being a solo, ballsy adventurer.

That safeness, is with my family. I can be a little girl again. I have a soft place to fall. I lived as an adult, all my life…yet the problem being that i was only  a child, my mother missed my life for a whole decade. Life has gieven me a good old beat down, from left to right, then up to down. But i’m happy, i’m here, i survived it and i’ve got a smile on my face, a virgin cocktail and a banner than read *success.* I mean some of the things i’ve seen and experienced in life, (all of it in Hollywood) are things Pete could only imagine in movies. I was there living it first hand and yeah, it wasn’t always easy, but i loved every moment of the tale. However, good or bad it was…i muscled through boldy creating a reputation that only a floozey like me would be proud of. lol.

Pete answers, and pretty much tells me he’s found the house he wants us to move into and he’s on his way to get the paperwork. I am to fill it in immediately (it was currently about 11.20pm) and i had to kind of do it now, if i wanted because the estate agents needed our forms in my 12 noon. If they didn’t get our forms by then, it would be bad, ebcause his Mum says that we need to jump on it whilst we can and before anyone else gets it.

Nothing like pressure. I immediately felt warm, terrified, under force and not happy. I tried to explain myself, but it just ended up in tears. I’m hormonal right now, i’m crying at everything. It’s hilarious, but messy. Whenever he brings it up, i get this way and i dont’ know why? I think it’s because i’m making far too many solid commitments and fast. Or it could be the fact that feel ganged up on, or *pushed.* I don’t know?

After a life of living on impulse, i’ve finally learnt to take my time with things. That has taken me ten years to learn! petelikes to act quickly because he doesn’t want me to change my mind about him or our deal for ‘ forever.’ It’s causing drama, because the pressure of the house hunt is the only thing shovelling a line bewteen us. I want to move in with him, i want to be with him, i just don’t like the *force* of it.

He’s in a difficult position to, as his parents are quite eager for him to move out, (as he was techniclly only meant o be staying there for a couple weeks until he found a new place, after a break up.) I’m in a difficult position because my parents want to hold on to me for as long as they can. I’ve lived away from home (and i’m talking in a different country) all my entire life…and well the fact that i’m home, means so much to my mum, it’s almost her world.

I’m meant to be showering, changing and grooming, right now. Yet because i was so stressed, I instead opted for blogging and tweeting. It’s weird how in moments of dire straits, i find myself emptying out my confusion in cyberland. It calms me. It woos me. My blog is something that i trust. I find it easier to share my thoughts with all of you, than i do with the people i actually have around me sometimes. That’s weird right? I mean, i’m an expressive girl. I have no problems telling anyone what i think of them or their merry ways. But just recently, i’ve needed my blog more than ever ans simply to destress.

I don’t know what’s wrong, but i do know i need to pamper. I need mind space and to feel free of the nitter natter that’s going on in my head. I need wind to my skin, and air to my flair. I need to breathe. What i need is my mum! Her being away has really shocked my system. You don’t realize how important someone is to you, until they are gone. She has been the strongest influence in my life. My closest friend and i just miss her being around me. (She’s ony gone on holiday and i’m ating like she’s dead. lol)

My *Thing-a-ling*has really put emphasis on how important a ‘Mother’ role is in anyones life  and she’s the only person that truely knows what i’m going through without me having to say anything. I need to stop before i have another tragic *kleenex*moment. lmao

Right…i’m gonna get back to showering, grooming and meeting my ‘Handsome’ for a Saturday of ‘love.’ I hope we don’t argue because that’s the last thing i need right now. I can hear my tumble dryer beeping. I wish you could throw everything in there and give it a quick spin whenever it annoyed you. Infact, maybe you can? I want cake.

So Poorly today.

I’ve been poorly all day and if there’s anything I despise more than waiting, bad attitudes, haters, and tan lines…it’s being ill. Omg! I attempted to raise my delicious body of love lump out of my white cosy sheets, with a mild smile of ‘oh here’s another day,‘ this morning. I felt hazy, dizzy, and seemed to have gained a *thud-thud* of a headache. (Almost like i had a bunch of Santa’s elves using the inside of my head, as their toy workshop…which wouldn’t surprise me, as it really is quite marvellous, in the brain of good old Chrissie Wunna. I’d want to make toys in there! Raunchy ones. But still worth a Christmas list, bitches. 🙂 )

Now, at this point, you’d think, I’d think there was something wrong, right? However, realize that I am a previous, late night, get it right, socialite….much! A kitty cat of cocktail drinking, and sequinned shimmie nights out on the razzamatazz, with heels and handsomes, and winks that could kill. Therefore waking up in this manner is a regular occurance. It’s normal for me. If i wake up happy, it’s because i’m still drunk.

However, and quite unfortunately THEN, i realized, i haven’t actually drank in 9 and a half weeks, due to my new *tee-total*-dom, due to my little *Glamour puss* that i have chilling inside me, making me all hormonal, exhausted and soon to be chubby. I wasn’t even hung over!! What have I become! I was actually frickin’ SICK! God, it trying to kill me off…and on a FRIDAY!!! How rude!

I tried to stand up, but my body ached so badly, it just couldn’t bare the thought of having to balance. my ego in an upright fashion. My head felt even more musty than usual and i began to feel a sense of nausea. I looked in the mirror (which is the first thing I do, every single morning. I’m vain..and so what?) Then after a *huff-puff* and a kitty cat *moan,* i decided to pathetically collapse back into my bed, after ordering someone to randomly make me a jacket potato, for no reason really, because I couldn’t for the life of me, eat it. I told them the sight of it, made me feel sick. 🙂

I felt like hell, and had to stay in bed until 4.25pm! I didn’t even feel better until THEN! Can you believe it! I was bed ridden and not even to mood music. This little *situation* i’m in, is really taking it out of me. Morning sickness sucks, because it’s the only sickness you will ever have, that will make you feel deliciously hungover, when you haven’t even had the sheer JOY of being able to get trollied, the night before.

I reached for my phone to call ‘Loverboy’ (we all need a bit of sympathy now and again. The phone call could of gone either way. ‘Nice Chrissie,’ would be all baby-like and pouty. Or ‘Evil Chrissie’ could have done the ‘YOU did this to me,’ speech on him. 🙂 ) Luckily, my delicate arms, that really did need more of a tan, refused to work on *reach* mode. Therefore, being the private girl that I am, i decided to TWEET my pain to the world, via text! I told everyone i felt groggy…and well, i then fell back to sleep for 20 minutes. I HATE being ILL! When will this end?

Proving that there’s no rest for the wicked, i then get a streamed series of phonecalls and text messages from people wanting to work with me. I like these calls because they’re usually rewarding. However, when you’re sick, and comtemplating a *throw up,* simply over the smell of toast, you never really feel up to it. I heard my pink Blackberry a beeping. I heard it beckonning my attention. I heard it, i heard it a moaning…

Then when i could finally reach, i had a little read through my texts. I laid their half naked, smothered in my white cosy sheets, hugging my pretend man that i made out of one side of the quilt. I always need to do that, as i’m a Kitty cat that needs to sleep with one leg over something. 😉 Loverboy was house hunting for us. I hate house hunting, so i don’t go. It makes me feel all panicked, and pressured and terrified. He loves it, as he’s eager to make me his ‘forever.’ Well i am his ‘forever’..and if i’m truely honest, i can’t really think of a better way to sail through life. Yet house hunting, is just not my thing. Last night he looked at me, whilst kissing my hand, saying ‘How many guys do you know that can’t WAIT to actually make their girlfriend their wife?’ I replied with a ‘I know, loads of  guys that would want to marry me? ‘ 🙂 He looked, smiled, told me off for being cheeky, and then told me that he literally couldn’t wait for me to be his wife. Yay! Another wedding for Wunna! I’m rolling them in…always a Bride, never bridesmaid! 😉 (Well that’s what Wazza says anyhow.)

Anyway, the good news is that my literary agent ‘Helen,’ had heard GREAT things from the publishers, who had taken the last week to read through the whole of my entire blog, in CD form, that Wazza (love him to pieces) had conjured up. We were waiting to hear what they would say and even though i kind of played it down, on the inside i was terrified. All i’ve ever wanted is to have a book out, about my life, that would maybe inspire others. Now, that dream is about to come true, which makes me realize that everything really does happen or a reason. I mean, i always thought to myself, years ago, when i was in LA, why i was writing my blog? I had no real reason? I was just writing it, for anyone who wished to read it…but mainly for my own sanity. It was just a little fun, that went to far. But if i never kept it going, then i would never have gotten this new opportunity.

Four or five years later, and when i have more than enough tales of my life to tell, i’m being told, that it will be a book, and it’ll be out by November hopefully, (Hellooo Christmas time,) and if all goes well, i’mma gonna of make myself a merry sum, simply by having written out my life…candidly…which will come in handy, with a ‘diva’ on the way.

I sort of did a *happy dance,* in my darling sick state. Yet i’m still not bringing out the banners yet. I’m never premature with my moments of ‘celebration.’ Until i see it out, on the book shelves, on Amazon, and in the hands of *glamourous*others, i shan’t be wiggling my hips to victory….just yet. But know that they are ready to get their *wiggle* ON! (Infact, say ‘ON’ like you’re American and excited…’OOWN!’ It has a better ring and sounds less like you’re at a teaparty.)

Other than all that, i’m doing quite fine. *Massive life. i still feel so ill, it’s almost unbelievable.* @Eddclay bbm’ed me during my publisher talk, that i was having in bed, mid-morning sickness, to ask if my book was going to be my version of the Bible, and out at Christmas? Haha. I love it! Know that that WILL be happening, and KNOW that he has totally ‘Shot-gunned’ the role of Moses. I told him that he made a saucy choice. I mean, you don’t get hotter than a naked Moses, all helpless in the bullrushes, now do you? Is that even the right story? I’m shit at the Bible. I love @EddClay right now, because he always impresses me with his jawline and love life drama.

He got stood up the other day, by some weird loser. However, Cupid must have felt for him and in return Cupid gifted him with a better choice of boy meat. I think it was some all singing, all dancing, superior handsome of hottness? I got stood up twice, by a javelin thrower once. He made me cry and cry, in a hotel room alone, as i waited and waited for ages, secretly kinda knowing that he would never show. I thought it was because he didn’t like me? But it was actually due to a combination of ‘can’t be arseness’ and ‘not enough money to‘ really come see me. I’m glad i got out of that quickly and into an another immediate rubbish relationship with a boy. 🙂 Woohoo! I felt for Edd, in his moment of pain. Being stood up makes any hottie feel like crapola, for a good 2.3 minutes, without wine. I’ve noticed that it’s never the hot ones that do the standing up either. Weird?

 I’ve had my times. I’ve date everyone. But now i’ve got ‘THE ONE!’ My past boys’ll be kicking themselves in years to come. I’ve never felt so happy and i’ve certainly never met a boy i can label as my ‘perfect match’ before. Loverboy, is ‘IT.’ He’s just ‘IT’ and the most lovingly, romantic man, any girl could ever wish for. It was fate. I never thought that when i saw him at 11, running down the school corridors, that he would be my future husband. It’s almost like the ‘big dude’ up above let me see my true love, and then let me live a horrific tale of heart-breaking regret, only to take me full circle and kindly drop me back off where my heart was to nest…over a decade later. If i had met him earlier, i wouldn’t have appreciated him the way i should of. It’s all about timing, fate and what’s meant to be. I’m in a really good place right now, and thank god for it! Jeeze! (I can breathe!)

The tragic thing about me, is that fact that i am currently watching my clip in hair extension, get caught in a fan (I prefer the term ‘wind machine’) and spin it’s ‘pet like’ way through life, like he has no-one to love. It’s messy and devastating, yet for some reason i’m not leaping to it’s rescue? Eww..I’m totally losing my touch. I mean you can tell i’m ill. I’m a Glamour Puss, I would usually NEVER let that happen, without somebody getting fired. *Wink-pout.* Save me!! God, i hope i get better! I am totally missing my mum!

I might call my leprechaun again, for a bedtime stooy. He’s like my spiritual therapist and he’s great when i’m about to go to bed. He’s like a chamomile tea, but with an Irish kick. I think my boobs are growing? This can’t be good?

Cola Cubes, Cries & Chicks named ‘Cherry’

So what i wanted to tell you was that last night, i enjoyed a quiet-ish night in, with my telly box, mango yogurts, drunk people, and a 2 year old Mini Me, that responds to the named of ‘Cherry.’ How adorable. I was hormonal last night, therefore i was on top Wunna form. This whole ‘sitiuation,’ i’m in right now is hilarious. One minute, your full of life and shimmie, the next moment, you want to breakdown and cry, dolloped off with exhaustion, and then a moment of ‘hornball.’ It’s brilliant. I literally have a Glamour puss living inside me and it’s already controlling my every little emotion in life. #terrifiedmuch. (I love it when it makes me feel frisky! I want to run around pathetically humping doors and tree trunks and teddy bears, in the shape of bunnies.)

So my chick friend came over with her two year old little girl, who is so adorably tiny, with the longest straightest black hair you have ever seen. It’s past her bum! She’s vietnamese, and in that ever so cute phase of jiggery. I mean she literally IS a doll, so tiny, and expressive and wiggly. I’m mildy jeaous that she has better hair than me and a superior tan. I asked her if she had extensions? She repiled with an ‘My mum said i can get them when i’m 4.’ 🙂 I’ve decided that she is my ultimate competition in life. Her eyes will get her into far more trouble than mine did, when she’s older…and that’s pretty much saying something. She could even fit into skinny jeans! UGH!

Anyway, unfortunately her mum was depressed. Great! Yippe! Bring out the fricking banners! Depressed drunk people, always want to hang around me when i’m *tee-total* and happy. I’d make a shit shrink, as i’d start having an attitute problem, when they began non-stop talking about themselves and their problems. I couldn’t really be bothered to make her feel better, because i’m in a phase where i’m blocking any negative energy OUT. 

My friend, (Cherry’s mum) was a model and wanted to be horrifically famous. She’s one of those girls that was never happy with her own life, her own look, her own anything….and therefore thought FAME would make it better. Fame doesn’t make anything better, it’s an illusion. We’re ALL people. Entertainment is pretend. It is the art of ‘show.’ I love the art of ‘show’ because it’s fun. But i regard it as ‘playtime’ and do not define my ‘being’ with it. I place it in the same catergory as going on a night out, with cocktail drinking friends. It’s a ‘good time’ and dangerous when you have too much of it. Some of my friends, do not realize this….and i’m watching them fall to pieces, right infront of me. (Which messes up my carpet.)

My chick friend ‘Lisa,’ never learnt this lesson, and still strived to fill a void, with something that wasn’t real. When i was younger, i was the same. But now at 29, and having first hand lived Hollywood, bruises and all. I’ve realized that you can only become invincible, when you feel whole, loved, confident and comfortable in your own skin. Infact, so strong that your name will live on forever, no matter what. Regardless as to whether you wanted it to. When you are whole, loved, and happy, then your work is TOP CLASS. It’s superior and unbeatable. Then you can begin to make you mark on this world and flirt with the thought of fame. Your craft and love should come first, but not before YOURSELF. The fame part will happen…if you are good at what you do. It is not something that people should be striving for initially. I learnt this the hard way as a teen, turning 20.

After watching ‘My weird & wonderful family’ (which i loved. There should be more reality documentaries on the people of the world, rather than just of peopel who make the cover of OK magazine. One of the things that i lvoed about my ligfe so far, is that i’ve wlaked many paths with people, and seen how others life, first hand, millions of different ways. It helped me understand life, who i was, what i wanted to achieve and aided my success. My confidence. My ballsiness. My everything!

I encourage adventures in people, take risks, and a wander down the path life of another for a month. Be they a friend, a boyfriend, a stranger or someone you despise. Often people are unable to do this, they need that push, that cheeky Wunna *beckon,* that little bit of encouragement. I can’t always be there, so one of the greatest ways to learn other walks of life is via reality tv. Documentary style reality tv.  I mean i don’t care to see what Danni Minogues doing with her new fashion range, or shoe collection. That reality documentary last night about the two gay dads that have parented 5 children was AMAZING and something that people can learn about. It’s essential to human existance. I loved it!

I watched my friend Lisa, drink all my rum and cry into it like a ‘forgotten about’ Pirate. She had been watching the ‘Katie & Alex’ show and the part where Katie couldn’t get out of her A-team van, due to the press trying to get a picture of her, made our Lisa cry. No because she felt bad for Katie. (Lol.) Yet because (and these were her actual words,) ‘…i will never have that happen to me now. EVER!’ Part of me watched her and oddly wondered why she was crying over something like that. Then the rest of me (and because i’m fricking hormonal) went soft and made me feel great empathy for her. My whole living room filled with her broken dreams, as she hysterically cried it out and  into the walls.

Not wanting to dwell on such tragedy, i decided to make her little daughter ‘Cherry’ perfom for us all. ‘Cherry’s’ ace because no matter what, she will put her ‘2yr old,’ arse on the line for the random sake of humour. A future Queen of Greatness. She reminded me of myself…hence why i liked her, therefore I told her to do impressions of the people she had in her life.

First if all she did her mum..which was just some old lady, knelt on her knees, watching the telly and crying, (Lmao.) Then she did her dad…which was her just walking around like a bit butch lesbian, and doing some kind of ‘angry’ man face. Then she did me. Which i obviously thought was going to be a hair-toss, and a strut. But nooooo!

That cheeky little minx, carefully walked up to what looked like an imaginary cabinet. (I love kids, because everything is imaginary, yet at the same time so real.) It apparently wasn’t a cabinet. It was a bar. Yet her height restrictions, meant it looked like a bedside table. She picked up a pretend martini glass, sipped it, *paused,* then DOWNED it! After that she looked around the room, like a Little Miss.Diva and then before she walked away, her eyes seemed to go all funny, as did her legs. She did this wobbly head, drunk stumble, with a fish pout, and eyes that suggested i could be mentally ill, took 4 staggers forward and collapsed on the floor. That was her impression of me. 🙂 I loved every moment of it!  I’m already making an impact on the lives of 2year olds!

The good thing about it was that her mum looked at me and smiled. Which was kinda all that mattered. It was the whole point to the process. Then a kitten commercial came on and made me weep. These hormones are pretty much getting the better of me.

They left, so i wandered upstairs to lay on my bed and read my pregnancy magazine, whilst chomping on cola cubes. I wondered what everyone else was doing in the world, then got a call from Loverboy, who wanted to wish me a good night. I don’t know how i found cola cubes, but i certainly forgot how delicious they are!

Woke up this morning feeling AMAZING. I’ve decided i want an old fashioned candy store, (sweetie shop) built into my house and i need a weekend away before it. (Shit, i forgot to tell you about the therapy, i had with a leprechaun yesterday afternoon. It’ll have to be in another blog. UGH!!)