Fussy Bitch

Firstly, an apology. Since beta-ing myself up I've been playing around with settings and templates and it now appears that I've totally buggered it. The site looks like crap with it's massive font squeezed into anorexic columns and every time I preview it I think of Ron Jeremy doing Nicole Ritchie. Not pleasant. I promise I'll fix it tomorrow. Or soon, anyway.

Now that's over, a little updating on my non-dating.

Vi, no I've not heard from pissing P (great name for him!). I did pass his flat on my way back from a karate grading on sunday and notice a strange car on the drive. Knowing that the '3 minute sex at 9pm' couple upstairs never have visitors it had to be someone at his. I just giggled and hoped she bled like a stuck pig so he had to change his sheets. I really must watch Carrie again.

Monday brought disappointment in the fact that I hadn't made as much as I wanted on ebay, then work in the form of new students to teach very basic martial arts to whilst still challenging the other, variously graded belts with progressively less basic hurting techniques. Preferably without any of the tiddlers tiddling on the carpet in abject fear. I was already relying on handing over to A so I could go to a writing workshop and knew he'd very dis-chuffed at being left with such an awkward class, specially since he'd told me at the grading that his car was still playing up and he might have to use public transport to get there at all.

He did get there, having borrowed a company car so I cheerily nipped to the loo to get changed and he took over the class. Like superman coming out of a phone box, I returned looking completely different and noticed a few shocked faces from mums and lustful looks from dads that only usually see me in angry white pyjamas with tied up hair. One dad called out 'blimey, Sensei - you do scrub up nice!' and A turned to say something sarky but stopped in his tracks. Oh, the power of that magic skirt! He's seen me with my hair down and flowing, he knows how good my boobs look in a pink, v-neck sweater (it's one of my trademark things, I have six in various shades), he'd also seen my black knee high boots when he arrived so the skirt was the only thing that could have made his jaw drop that way. Smiling to myself at shutting him up I comforted a little one that was scared of A, got my stuff together and rushed off to the workshop.

The skirt had a similar effect on the blokes there too, a mixed bunch of older fellas and one very nice young bloke that I was asked to sit next to. He was a bit too good-looking for my tastes and not really big enough but it was nice to see him trying to hide his wedding ring as we chatted over the tasks. His writing wasn't bad but there was some serious talent in the room so he was a bit over-shadowed, bless him. I got great feedback on my pieces which pleased me no end, I'll definitely be putting more work into this area, it's something I love to do anyway (but you all know that cos you read my verbal diarrhoea!) and I'd like to see what I'm really capable of.

Came home to find a email from A 'so whens the novel coming out and am I in it? I want a signed copy' He must have been under the spell for ages after I left, he hasn't contacted me for anything other than karate talk in months and sent this the minute he got home! Tuesday at training he was mucking about kicking my arse and physically flirting like mad. I said I might take thursday night off and he made up a reason to really need me there so I went tonight and, as I thought, the reason was non-existent. He was looking out of the window cos I was late and I called him down for a ciggie where he told me he'd bought me a present and it was upstairs. It was a big bag of mixed nuts and sultanas, my absolute favourites. That's the most thoughtful thing that man has ever done so I can only assume he's making a sincere effort. How I feel about this is the subject of another post, methinks.

I was going to wear the skirt to a pub party for my mates birthday tomorrow but her husband saw my ex-husband at footy and invited him to come too! Bloody arse! I daren't look too good in front of him cos he'll delude himself that I'm trying to attract him and I can't even flirt proper with anyone else with him there cos he'll do the puppy dog act and I'll look like a nasty, insensitive bitch again. He did that all through our marriage and I so hated it! Shame it's not fancy dress really, I could have worn a full burkha and veil!