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My Alternative Girlfriend

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Categories: Randoms, Read More

I know, I know my precious. I’ve been AWOL for the longest time but with VERY good reason. Keep this between us but…I’m on the run.

Not from the law or amazingly a man, no it’s a new phenomenon for me. I’m officially in a relationship…with another girl.

It can take a while for you to realise that you are involved. Their tactics are so stealth and subtle that MI5 should recruit them. It’s only when they decide to date you without your permission that you’ll know.

Mine started off innocently enough. We met and she seemed like a sociable happy-go-lucky type of sister with ‘a life’. She was a little more conservative than me and was slightly determined and dreamy eyed about meeting a guy called ‘THEONE’ but showed no other signs.

Then, one day, I got a mysterious call from her out of the blue saying she wanted to ‘hang out’. She needed a ‘friendly’ ear. I barely knew her. Surely I wasn’t the ‘friend’ she was referring to?
“At this point I should have probed. Why didn’t I probe? Instead I envisaged a passion fruit mojito and chocolate brownies from Bar HaHa and ignored the danger signs.

Eight hours later and my life had changed irrevocably. For hours I had sat through this woman’s analysis of every single break up from the age of 16 and where she went wrong. I tried to be understanding, sympathetic and caring but I kept thinking: ‘why is she talking to me about all of this? Why aren’t we talking about me!’

The trouble is that I can really see why the men in her life may need a break from her …a permanent break. I couldn’t cope with that level of intensity when I had alcohol to distract me ,let alone sober trying to watch Match Of The Day. This is the only time I have sympathised with the other side. You gotta love her though ‘cos she is an eternal optimist. who believes that one day she will meet THEONE and live happily every after.

But then there were the late night calls of woe, the requests for ‘crazy’ girls nights out that turned into therapy sessions with the constant analysis of ‘where all the black men were’. She must be crazy asking me because if I knew I wouldn’t be sitting at home on my computer chatting to her.

So now I’m on the run. It’s ruining my social life as I avoid being online. Does this woman never sleep? She thinks I work half the week in Scotland and that I barely go out. I can’t post pictures on Facebook. It’s no way to live. Funnily enough her number is withheld so she corners me when I assume it’s a recruitment consultant. Always the same theme with a teary end.

So take care my precious as this species is growing and on the loose. Hmm… methinks my plans for a career change to life coaching might have to be put on hold.

© Chelsea Black

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My Pretty Woman Moment

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Categories: Health and Fitness, Read More

So today I had a Julia “Vivienne” Roberts moment. There are scenes from the film Pretty Woman that are imprinted on my mind. The bit where she(Vivienne) is in the red dress at the opera, the bit where he(Gere) climbs the fire escape, that hotel piano scene or where she’s walking towards his car and Kit says: “Work it baby, work it, work it. Own it!”

But my moment, alas was of the ‘snobby shop keeper on Rodeo Drive’ variety. As is often the case, on my way home I got distracted by the shops. I spotted this gorgeous dress in a window, so I went in and asked if I could try it on. “You do realise that it’s a size 8?” the shop assistant exclaimed, looking me over with disbelief. I nodded eagerly, that yes, if I don’t eat for 14 straight days and catch flu I too am a size 8 on top. Clearly she wasn’t fooled once she caught a glimpse of my African butt…but the dress puffed out from the waist. Honest!!

“And I think I should tell you that its quite expensive?” Well my precious that was it. This women had looked at my dazed and confused fashion sense and JUDGED me.
Carefully considering which of my cards I could put it on and whether or not I remembered any of my pin numbers, I figured I might as well do the 14 day fast now. Of course there was no Richard Gere in sight with a platinum credit card when you need one. Just the nervous guy in the CD collection with the greasy hair and smelly dog. Oh did I mention that this was a charity shop? Maybe Richard Gere types don’t do charity shops.

I was feeling confident and resolved that I wasn’t going to be defeated by a piece of fabric. All was going swimmingly untill…I had to zip it up. I popped my head out of the changing room and humbly asked for someone to help me.
I won’t describe the tussle that ensued my precious. It’s just too embarrassing . But needless to say it took all three shop assistants to do the zip up. I feigned calm, fought back tears and pretended that I wasn’t breathing in, cursing the panini I had munched for lunch and claiming (not for the first time) that I had IBS.

Realising that the dress nearly fit and that they were close to a sale, the shop assistants changed their attitude pretty quickly. I now had the age old dilemma: buy the dress I could ill fit into and afford or just tell them where to stuff their gorgeous dress and their boutique attitudes?
I am now the proud owner of a fuchsia David Fielden silk dry clean only dress which needs a team to get on. Erm… who is David Fielden ? But I won my precious I won!! And that’s what counts when you are having a Pretty Woman moment. The happy ending.
Happy shopping!

© Chelsea Black

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In the Black – My Not So Funny Valentine

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Categories: DATING, Misadventures, Read More, Sex, Tags: , , , , ,

Ok so here’s is the deal. I tend to put a lot of hope and thought into Valentines Day. Don’t ask me why my precious. Even when married, its not like I got more than the standard card and something functional like a steps video for those wintery nights at home whilst I rushed around looking for 5 perfect gifts for our 5 imperfect years together.

But this year, this year was different, because not ONLY was I single for the first time in forever, I was seeing not one, but two delicious men. Call me greedy but I see it as portfolio diversification and I’m not one to preach but in a financial crisis a girl has to have options. Dinner options.

So the first one, Young Banker, was a hangover from 2008. A boy that proudly told me that he was a year older than last year. He booked me a whole 9 days before V day. I was almost impressed. He claimed not to be the same cheap, lazy young man who couldn’t be bothered to make an effort anymore. I claimed to be the same demanding chick who couldn’t cook.

So then he texted me with two hours to go to the meal and asked me if I had any food preferences? A tad late I thought. We met and made our way to dim t, Pimlico. On the way we passed a Nandos and he suggested that ‘we go there instead.’ I told him firmly that I supported Nandi’s every week and today, I wanted something more romantic.

I think he felt that all his efforts had been spent, as we sat to eat a meal where I chatted with my friend Sugar on Blackberry Messenger and he regaled me with tales of …erm; I really don’t remember any of them

At the end of the meal he proudly presented the waitress with his 2 for 1 voucher. She proudly told him that it didn’t work on the weekends. I reluctantly offered to pay for my share (£17.50) and only his reluctant refusal of my offer won him a space in the cab back to my place.

Once at home, just as I thought things couldn’t get any worse, he jumped onto my laptop and began to search porn sites. He couldn’t even be bothered to think up his own foreplay? That was it; the boy was shown the door.

Thankfully the day was saved by Guy 2 who accidentally sent my card to the address upstairs. It finally made its way downstairs (but I could feel my neighbour’s resentment steaming off the envelope she had tried to hastily stick back together.)

He then bought me chocolates, perfume and knickers. Now you know that red isn’t my colour girl, but when a man asks you to wear the gift for him, what’s one to do but buy a pair of matching red heels and fishnet stockings?
Bye for now my precious, I’m off shopping
© Chelsea Black

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