I’m not the kinda girl that likes to book appointments for a ‘pamper.’ I’m a ‘walk-in’ kinda gal. A wiggle of an ‘ooh laa,’ a delicious quick spurt of energy. I’m very rarely loyal to a salon. I’ll go with the nearest or the cheapest and the ones that do it quickest. ‘Pamper’ to me is completely about spontaneous of ‘Glamour puss,’ with an ‘ooh i fancy a quick spritz of the hairdo, or a sprite speedy bit of glitz over.’ When an appointment is made for such a thing, it either means you’re not a glamour puss at heart, the place you go is too expensive, or..well you’re really not uesd to a ‘pamper.’ Keep it sexy. Keep it exciting. Appointments..(apart from massage) are sooo over. I enjoy to make an appointment for a rub down. Infact i did on Thursday with Neemaf therapies. Yet with baby Ruby with me. (Very Chrissie Wunna…i’m either turning it up rum, a party, or too much fake tan. However, i out did myself this time, by taking a little girl. A little girl that came into this merry world through my vagina. Yipppee!) When the words ‘this is the weirdest massage i’ve ever given’ are spoken, whilst i’m half hanging off a table, topless, shaking a crab rattle at my 5 month old dolly doo-dee, to comfy mood music..you know you’re having a great time. Poor Tracey. I then got a free foot rub, with Ruby on my knee, doing ninja ‘ooh’ faces and giggling, with HER FEET in Tracey’s face, ready for a rub down. It actually felt great. However, next time…i’ll just take rum. I sent Loverboy to ‘Karate’ upstairs whilst i pamper. We’ve been bickering a lot lately and i mean properly bickering at one another due to frustration, wine and well..men suck. He’s been driving me insane. Lol. The last bicker was about him treating me like a cash machine. There is nothing worse to me than a boy, dipping into my bank account, constantly and for everything! It pisses me off. I mean, i earnt all that moola ! However, whatever i’m used to it. I tend to find these boys ALL of the time and it’s becoming rather annoying. Mouching is hideious! I’m an independant kitty cat of ‘have my own’ wallet. Get yours…it makes you hotter. Add wine to my rage…not good. We FOUGHT! (But now we’re back to ‘moderate.’ Yet he is beginning to do my head in…massively. I find it hard anyway, after my big old divorce to love anyone for a long time these days and tie myself down to ‘forever’ with anyone i may think might not tick all the ‘hero’ boxes. Loverboy needs to quit being a mouche and get his merry act completely together. He’s been bitching and moaning about everything and when you work non-stop, forever paying and in ‘to die for outfits’…you really can’t be arsed with ungratefullness. I’m a dolly who’s grateful for everything i have and every being i encounter, who’s worth my attention and because i’m aware of the world, life and the levels of people in it. Pete often cannot see outside his own world. I do this to boys. After ‘time’ with the Wunna, they all turn into ego-maniacs. Let’s just say the massage was MUCH NEEDED..even if i was topless with crab rattles! Men are draining. We women are much better without.
Talking about my ex-hubby Mike. I found him by accident on Twitter after an office girl asked me about him. I didn’t really know he had one. Yet it was really weird to sort of see it. For a long time i had closed that door emotionally and because I now have to think for TWO people (Me AND Ruby) and well he’s my first ever love. A being i will always hold a flame for…no matter how much it hurts..and yeah we’ve hurt each other a great deal in the past, yet our ‘bond’ never really died..even though we do not and have not actually spoken in ages. I think it’ll be a shock to him that i’m actually doing well. Yet before i embarrass myself and get all teary eyed with uneccessary emotion…i’ll stop. I followed him and hoped he noticed. It’s a girl thing. We all do it innit. LMAO *Tragical.* Maybe that’s why Loverboy and I have been fighting? He’s also been dealing with his own juicy issues. Yesterday Pete found out his actual real life birth name. (Remember he’s adopted.) I found it for him. Even though he plays it off as ‘just a name’ you can see the depth in his eyes. It’s a big moment. I’m good at bringing those moments to people…with booze.
Okay other than that, i’ve been shopping in Doncaster all day with ‘The Wunna’s’ and baby Ruby. I’ve waited for a bed, that decided not to come. I’ve taken fruitful advice from my mother, who believes i’m bizarrely strongest when i’m single. Infact, she believes i’m so strong, dazzled over with ‘glitzy’ that men are a little too attracted to me. They enjoy the idea of having a bit of ‘Chrissie W’ on their arm. But they suck the life out of me when they get a bit too comfortable. Lol. Lovely! ‘Chrissie, you MAKE people feel far too comfortable around you. They NEED to be kept that emotional inch away and sort of KNOW their place.’ HAHA…i ADORE MY MUM! Then she went on about Ruby ‘rocking the world’ with her dolly or something? Oh no..it was ‘Hollywood.’ My intention is to move back to LA in the end. I’m just not ready yet. It’s not time. I can still feel ‘great things to come’ in the Motherland right now. When that feeling dies…i’ll leave. It’s what i do.
Got an email from another ex the other day. Tommy the bodyguard from New Jeresy. Funny guy in all and really one of the only exes, i can have a drink and a laugh with. There’s serious awkwardness with the rest of them…yet Tommy will outright state that he’s been a twat and wants forgiveness, with a sarcastic Jersey charm. I’ll re-call him a ‘twat’ and like with drugs…just say ‘NO.’ He’s a short-term bit of wizzle that you deal with. Not a future. I love a ‘future’ and simply because the idea of it excites me.
I can’t remember whatelse has happened, because i’m playing ‘catch up.’ BUT tonight i believe is ‘DATE NIGHT’ so i’ grabbing my kitten heels and adjusting my push up bra with a wink.
Lord knows how my story ends…. (Found myself singing along to Dolly Parton in the rain and in a Mercedes today…not a bad start…yet i’m hoping it gets better…:) )