The secrecy is getting to me.  I can’t bear it.

You can slag me off as much as you want but the truth is: I am mortally indiscreet so this is like shoving a red-hot poker up my ass and NOT in a good way.

After bleating this week about never going to have sex ever again well…an old comfort buddy called me yesterday morning and we lay in bed all afternoon kissing and stroking and showering together.  Someone I have known for years.  A sweet-natured Iranian man, 28..hairy chest.  There’s a picture of him in the blog I think.  Hidden.

It felt good to hold him in my arms.  It was very comforting.

The back of his neck reminded me of you know who so I looked him in the eye.

We scoffed a late lunch overlooking the sea.

As we ate two drunk people started a fight.  A bruised woman in her late 40’s and her madly attractive, much younger (20’s) blond, surfer boy friend.  Both chestnut coloured from lazing all year on the beach.  Her sun bleached hair tangled in dried blood from a recent brawl.  She threw two large bottles of beer at his head.  They smashed on the ground.  Later we saw this odd, violent couple being arrested.

Spent the rest of the day wrestling back control of the computer from Max.  His 13-year-old brain having got the best of his mum and dad’s good intentions.  Taking control of the family internet.  He was horrified by what I had done: limiting his internet usage to 3 hours a day, no iChat, no unfettered Facebook.  Every time he wants to do anything dodgy the computer emails me and tells me all about it.

Whilst they were out 10-year-old Hannah and I cooked dinner.  Moroccan influenced lamb balls.  Assorted vegetables.  Buttered rice.

I am feeling good.  Excited.  Fearless.