Not Very Playboy Of Me…

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I’m finally back on Northern soil…again. (Yorkshire puds for everyone!!) I’ve been travelling quite a lot, creating and running some kind of glamour pussy empire, falling for a boy and being a Mama. Shit ain’t easy. But i’m weirdly doing it well. (I got this! Somehow, I reckon if I say it enough…it’ll come true! Haha.)

I’ve had shoots, filming and business to tend to. I’m loving this new chapter, because it’s filled with ‘life.’ The kinda ‘life’ that I always wanted. The life I wished for! I’ve always done well. Some say really well. 😉 But there’s a lot of ‘well’ and ambition left in me…I’ve got a really big picture in my head..and somehow I reckon I’m gonna get there.

I’m a tryer…

Anyway, i work hard for what I have or what I wish for. I work hard for my children & to feel a sense of worth. Without purpose, I feel bored. (I kinda like that worth, that purpose to be sponged over in a bit of ‘showbiz,’ and hand washed in ‘dollar signs.’ Haha. (I’m glitzy like that!)

However, I say ‘sponged,’ simply because the substance under the glitter is SOLID. Do not get it twisted! Wunna Land IS NOT ‘smoke & mirrors,’ it years worth of hard work! Years worth of happiness. Years worth of glamorousity! Years worth of dedication. Years worth of thought & effort. Years worth of cocktailing. The ups! The downs! The bits in between!

So yeah, it feels really good to finally skip over the part that starts with a ‘hiccup’ and see some actual fucking results.

This kitty went to market.

This kitty is doing gooood, Boo.

Anyway, Surrey. I got back the other day. I went down to see ‘D Bear.’ (Who’s the guy that seems to have taken a keen interest. In return my interest for him is more than alive! So alive that we figured we might as well be together. We’re dating. (You have life to live! Go for it! You’ve nothing to lose!)

We get on really well. We’re actually doing great. We’re both quite busy when it comes to the art of ‘family,’ because we both have our own to manage. We’re fun humans, with real grown up responsibilities..that cost a flipping bomb! Haha!

Every moment we have we seem to learn more and more about one another…I respect him because he’s a good balance of fun, responsible, ambitious, yet loving. We’re quite similar. The ‘bedroom’ is naughty….

DBear: ‘I can definitely confirm that you’re not a ladyboy.. Haha. Here, check this for me, so I can post it on my Insta.’

….and after delightful red wine pours, talks of life, love, work, homes and family….we pissed ourselves laughing at the world and the way it works.

DBear: ‘What’s five percent of…’

Me: ‘I don’t know? I’m a model. I can’t add for shit. I hate maths. Haha.’

DBear: ‘I think you’re smart…’

Waitress: ‘Would you like another one Sir?’

DBear: ‘Yeah. Could I have a few more biscuits too?’

Talking about smart…he’s smart. He’s worldly. He’s open minded. He understands situations and people. He knows a great deal about a lot of things…He’s strong. He’s a goer. He’s loving. He’s a family man. He’s good at reading situations, doesn’t cry over spilt milk and moves forward with confidence.

I’m inspired by him. I guess, a lot of people are.

I mean, isn’t it weird how you can have such a different life story to someone, however at the same time you’ve both lived a similar life, that has created an audience. (In a way we’ve had similar careers, in alternate professions…Infact a similar audience….Except he’s done much better. Haha.)

Ofcourse…

Yet the good thing about lil’ kitty me, is that I’ve turned it around and ‘winked’ myself a little magic. (This is the part of my life where my Mum finally says, her education WASN’T a waste of money, after all.)

At 38, (Where others have decided to lay to rest,) I’ve sort of thought my career and my future through. I’ve twisted and tinkered. I’ve sorted my branches out…and kinda given myself a ‘comeback’ crown.

I’m fully back in the game career wise now and it’s turning into a success because this time around, I KNOW what i’m doing. I’m not scared of anything. I don’t care what a ‘hater’ has to say. I’m smashing it. I’m going for it. But most of all…I’m loving every minute of it.

You can change you life at any point. Don’t waste the time you have, wishing and hoping, yet being too afraid to not take action.

Bottom life, wonderful time. Beautiful trip. I loved moments where we were just laid in bed with white towels wrapped around our waist, laughing and chatting about life.

Me: ‘I didn’t sleep with Hugh Hefner.’

DBear: ‘I can’t believe that the mansion is a real place.’

Then the morning came…and oh my gosh…I was really poorly.

I won’t go into it…but something happened to my body because I technically hadn’t been looking after it well enough. I don’t really eat enough, which caused my body to react.

Boy, did it react.

We were both just sort of staring at the situation, with ‘Holy Fuck’ faces.

DBear: ‘Why are you laughing!?! I’m genuinely worried!! Haha. You need to make a phone call!’

Me: ‘This isn’t very Playboy of me.’

DBear: ‘You need to rest. What if you bleed on the train! If someone came in here, they’d take one look and think something crazy had happened and call the police! Haha!’

Me: ‘I’m too shy to talk to someone on the phone! Lol. But I’m going to have to do something!?!’

DBear: ‘That’s a lot of blood.’

Me: ‘It’s fine.’

I laughed because, what can you do? I’ve been through worse. It did shock me a little. I did actually end up fainting. Haha. I also needed a doctor…

Why does shit like this have to happen to me!?!

I was just sat there half naked, laughing and maybe dying a little! Haha.

However, ofcourse, being me…I rested, had a beer and then waited until my body could take the journey back…and travelled all the way home, after a salad.

I’m just one of those ‘get on with it’ northern gals, aren’t I! We’re only bothered…when we’re dead.

I even fitted 2 for one ‘Whisky Sours’ in before my last train. Haha. (What? It actually made me feel better!?! Especially when some pompous twat was being rude to the bartender, and waving money in his face, whilst screaming at him over nothing.)

I was casually losing blood and dying on my barstool…quietly…glamourously and with ‘2for1’ Whisky sours at the Great Northern Hotel.

Long story short, I don’t even know how i managed to get home. But I did! My body felt THAT bad, even though I laughed it off. I was whoozy. I couldn’t see. I was stood at Kings Cross station with a packet of M&S ‘Percy Pigs.’ Haha. (Don’t ask? I thought they would make me better?)

I had arranged for my Mum to come pick me up at the station, once i hit northern soil. I don’t even know how I got off that train? Haha. But i’m a trooper. I knew I needed to be home. I’m too proud to faint infront of people, so I made sure I was in public ALL OF THE TIME…and slept on the train.

As soon as I was with my mum and the kids…(My brother came to the platform to carry my bag for me, bless him,) I felt safe, I was fine. You do though, don’t you?

If anything was to happen to me at this point….I was comfortable enough to be embarrassed.

Mum: ‘You do know that, that much blood loss could end up in death you idiot. It’s stops oxygen from pumping to your heart easily. It…You know…that thing that you need, in order to live.’

But now, i’ve seen the Doctor. My Mum is a doctor also. I’ve been kept under fine medical care…and i’m back up and running. Haha.

Look after your bodies. I’m stupid. Don’t be like me.

What a drama!! Haha.

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