The hotness of me

Today I got persuaded into going to a Sixth Form Induction Day for work. I arrived and sneaked to the back where I went over my notes of what I had to say to the group of oh-so-cool 16 year olds when my turn came.

While doing this, the induction staff were running the always fun bonding activities, one of which was to go round the room and ask each learner to say one good thing about joining the sixth form and being on the induction.

There were the usual, unenthusiastic answers; no uniform, calling staff by their last name, more freedom etc....

Then they turned to one boy (who looked like a young, hot Robbie Williams - can I say that or is that very wrong? Sod it. He's 16 isn't he? He was quite cute, there I said it.) and asked him,

"What's the best thing about being here today?"

He paused.

Then,

"The mega hot woman stood behind me."

And he turned and pointed.

At me.

Oh yes people, I've still got it.

ps who knew 'mega' was back in?

Return of the blonde

Oh yes.

I suddenly realised tonight that our home insurance had run out. And, given that those adverts are on constantly, I decided to go on a certain comparison website to see what the best deal was.

I know, how grown up of me.

Anyway, it turns out that there are lots of very complicated questions when selecting home insurance, how much is in my flat? Do I count the 108 pairs of shoes? When you say over 400m away from water, does my flat count, given that it overlooks a river but is two stories up?

We managed to tackle most of these and then came to the following:

When do you want your policy to start?

That's easy, I think, today!

No, counters Steve, tomorrow.

"But what if our flat catches fire tonight? I have a history with fires you know Steve."

Steve looks exasperated, "I'll stay awake till midnight."

"Yes, but then you'll go to sleep! What if the fire starts then?"

"It'll be after midnight, so it'll be tomorrow and the policy will have started angel"

I pause. I think.

Steve continues, "Why... when did you think it would start?"

I pause again, knowing my answer is going to sound very silly.

In a small voice, "When I woke up."

Steve laughs outloud, so hard he can hardly breathe,

"You thought that the insurance company would start out new policy on the stated day, starting from when you woke up?"

Even smaller voice.

"Yes, I mean, that is when my tomorrow starts."

He has just about stopped laughing.

The Boy who went one worse

In the summer of my lower 6th, just turned 17, I met Dave. He was lovely and again, had a car. He played me Destiny's Child songs down the phone and told me I was the most perfect girl he'd ever met. I admired his blatant honesty.

We happily dated for a fortnight, going to friend's birthday parties and the cinema. He decided that he would go to the local university instead of Edinburgh as he didn't want to leave me. Slowly but surely, I felt all the signs of teenage infatuation (also known as True Love to a 17 year old).

Then one night, he invited me to dinner at his parents' house. This was the moment I was waiting for. In my head, this was only one step away from a proposal.

So, dressed up, I went along to his house, and enjoyed a lovely meal with his lovely, if somewhat on edge, parents.

It took until dessert to find out why they were so on edge.

Turns out that Mr Dave not only had a girlfriend but a pregnant girlfriend at that.

And again came the sobs.

The Boy who Taught Me Romance

Freshly heartbroken from the Marine and his bad choice of names, I threw myself into going out and, while on one of these nights out, I met Grant. Grant was 21 and had a car. All big things to 16 year old Livy. I caught my hand in the club (the joy that was LAs in Hull) and told me I was pretty, all while staring at my top (which if I remember correctly had a picture of a hen with horns and the words 'Horny Chick' under it).

Ironically I had already kissed a boy that night, someone called Phil, Grant seemed like the obvious next step to complete the Mitchell Brothers set.

So kiss him I did, come 1am, we exchanged numbers and I went home, floating on a cloud, knowing that, where Mr Marine had failed, Grant would definitely be The One.

The next day this was confirmed with a text message; Grant told me how great it was to meet me and how he couldn't wait to see me again. I quickly arranged for us to go to my friend's birthday party on the following Friday night.

On the Friday he picked me up in his Skoda, and we went to the party, there we snogged in the corner and danced to Westlife before he drove me home. After 10 minutes of trying to persuade me to have sex with him in his car (I go for the classy ones), I left, again on a cloud of love.

The following Wednesday, I received a message from him saying I would be out on Saturday and why didn't I come out and stay with him over night, I could tell my parents that I was at a friends.

Being the good girl that I was, I said I didn't really want to and that I would feel strange staying at his house.

His house? he replies?

No, he meant a hotel, how could I stay at his house? What would his girlfriend say?

And so, heartbroken, I stopped texting him, sobbing my poor naive heart out.

A Marine? EEEEEEEEEK!

I have dated some pretty strange men in the past.

And I have been dumped for some pretty bizarre reasons.

The trials of my love life have been mentioned on here before; remember the Valentine's Day disaster? And the first kiss?

Well things only went downhill from there really. When designing this post, I made a mental list of all the weird boys and strange men and bizarre situations I can remember... suffice to say, I could be here all day so instead, you will get them broken down, over several posts over the next few days. Come back at 4pm today for entry number 2: The Boy who Taught me Romance.

Post first kiss, my next tryst with romance was with a boy in holiday in France, I was just 16, he was nearly 17 and, in France's hot July, we spent a fortnight kissing on the beach and, in a much more unsavory choice, a disabled toilet (what can I say, we were young and had been told off for loitering near the pool). We held hands and told each other how much we were in love, we planned to run away with each other after we got home, he was going to join the marines and I was going to go with him and be a doctor (I had yet to get my GCSEs so not sure how that was going to work). On the last night, we exchanged jelly bracelets (it was the summer of 2000) and cried about how our evil parents were tearing us apart.

We texted and called for a while after that, always telling each other how we would be together again, and then I found out the deal breaker.

As you may recall, I have been forever obsessed with names. I always planned what I would call my future babies. I dreamt of a boy then twin girls and read name books to decide what I would call them. I was therefore thrilled when Mr Marine said that he wanted the same!

Fate ,16 year old me decided, and I eagerly set about telling him my names, for my son, Ronan, he did not have a problem with but when it got to my twins, my beautiful twins, Britney and Billie (lets just remember which year this was people....) he had an issue.

He was fine with Britney ('Bit weird to call my daughter after a bird I want to do but it kicks ass' - he was a classy guy) but Billie - no. Firstly, he didn't want to do Billie and secondly, he wanted his daughter to be called:

Shannaleah.

Like chandlier but without the D.

And just like that our love was over.

Can you help?

Yep, Steve and I are still (STILL!) debating the honeymoon. We have got it down to a country - the good old US of A (although I am still having pangs for Brazil....) and when we'll go. And we have even got it down to the type of holiday - multicentre - and even two out of the three locations - Hawaii and Vegas but not the third.

So this is where you come in, I am hoping that my lovely readers are well travelled and would like to share their where to gos!

Our trip will comprise of:

4 days SOMEWHERE

7 days Hawaii (at the minute we're thinking Big Island - any tips?)

3 days Vegas

Where shall the somewhere be?

We have the whole of America to chose from!

We have considered the three obvious: LA, New York and San Fransisco.

LA - I'm just not too keen on, I want 'real' America
New York was our first idea but I am just thinking, is four days enough and it is tres expensive, probably worthy of its own holiday the following year perhaps....
San Fransisco - the main contender at the moment. I have been and liked it, Steve hasn't.

But is there anywhere else?

We are open to all suggestions - Mid West? Texas? Alabama? We'll do it! But we want things to do, interesting places to go and a central location.

So come on! Any of you crazy about Memphis or Oklahoma or Salt Lake City?

Big loves x

You better comment NOW!!

I am a pretty immediate person.

If I have an idea and tell someone about it, I want them to respond with an answer straight away. I was about to say before I even tell them but that would be mightily dissatisfying wouldn't it?

Likewise, if I enquire about something, an item I am thinking of buying, a play I may want to go and see, I get extremely annoyed if the company in question doesn't immediately get back to me.

Once an idea is in my head then I want it sorted at that precise moment.

Can I come to Birmingham the weekend of the 12th?

YES I CAN.... what do you mean you have to check if it works for your other friend? I can so lets do it. NOW!

It is the reason I once ended up in Blackpool with no-one to see, the reason I once booked 12 tickets to see Fame and ended up selling 6 of them on Ebay and the reason that my inbox is currently filling up with emails from 102 different Dessy stockists regarding the prices of bridesmaid dresses (anyone want to know the most cost effective place to buy Alfred Sung styles D446-449? Email me, seriously. I have a spreadsheet.).

So, in an effort to curb this habit (because it pisses everyone off. Including me, also, just reading back, why isn't 'habit' spelt like 'rabbit'?), I decided to actively seek out things that would try my patience, things that would make me wait.

So, when browsing notonthehighstreet.co.uk, I came across something I most desperately needed: an apron with the words 'Save Water, Drink Champagne'. I immediately go to purchase it. Now here, I would usually go straight to the 'Next Day Delivery' option. But instead, I pause, I ponder and I move my mouse just a centimetre to the side and click the big button that reads Standard Delivery.

And I feel pleased. I feel all proud of myself, I am obviously nearing full maturity and adulthood. I am feeling so proud in fact that I award myself one star on my reward chart in the kitchen (current categories 'Exercising for 30 minutes' 'Not eating cheese' 'Being generally lovely' and 'Not pinching Steve' - if I get 20 stars a week then I get a chuppa chup lolly; 30 and I get a Sylvanian Families baby).

Fast forward to that evening, I am getting antsy. I have tried to tell Steve about the apron, and, apart for some droll comment about it being of no use whatsoever as I don't cook (he lies!), he seems remarkably unimpressed.

He'll eat his words tomorrow, I gleefully think.

And then I remember.

5-7 working days!

The next day, I deliberately told a colleague the truth; that I didn't need the advert sign off right away, that the deadline wasn't until the following day, that she had time to look over it. No rush.

The day after, I asked Steve if he had sorted out when he'd be finishing work on Saturday so we could go to our 6 month venue meeting. He hadn't. And I smiled sweetly and just asked if he could look into, it being only a week away.

See, progress.

Except, I am now sitting here, new apron on (I accidently called the website and pleaded with them to express it for an inordinate amount on money), emailing the venue to confirm the time after standing over Steve while he sorted out his working day. And the colleague? Yep, she's no longer talking to me after a not so patient, red marked email.