I am now sans boyfriend. Shaz & I broke up yesterday morning after dragging the whole thing out with nearly 1 month’s silence. It was the most amicable break-up I have ever been involved in although, of course, this could change. I had prepared a massive speech, which I read out to him - expecting an argument – only to find he agreed with everything I had said. We then lay on the bed for an hour or so, chatting about our futures without each other, our past with each other, family, careers and other stuff. A few tears were shed (by me of course) but there were no histrionics, blame or guilt. I’m glad that it ended like this.

Although I know it’s the right time for it to happen, I still have all the symptoms of heartbreak (but to a lesser degree than other break-ups). At the risk of sounding like Bridget Jones, they are as follows –

• A strange urge to stay in bed and watch reality TV and romantic comedies whilst
  eating crisps and Easter eggs. (Which is what I did last night)
  
  A complete lack of interest in any other men, or any other people for that
  matter.
  
  No sex drive
  
  Dull pain in thorax area
  
  No appetite
  
  Tendency for eyes to fill with tears on tube or other public place.
  
  Feeling of doom. (Actually I always have that.)
  
  Lack of interest in drinking and smoking (Strangest symptom of all.)
  
  

Although these things are all present, I am surprisingly ok. Think it’s because we have slowly been coming to this since October, and also I always knew we were very much unsuited – as did Shaz.

I shall now reclaim the “Single and Loving It” mug in our kitchen and drink from it regularly and with relish.

Just been reading over my last few entries – blimey what a miserable little winter I’ve been having! Anyway, my faith in humankind, clubbing and indie discos has been restored due to all the antics of the last week.

In the last week or so I have………

Pole danced at Stay Beautiful on Friday night.

Been sick in the work loos and fell asleep at my desk at work on Saturday afternoon

Seen Client live at aforementioned Stay Beautiful.

Eaten 8 12” pizzas between 6 of us at Soma in Stepney Green, Mmmm.

Made friends with Helsy’s photographer who is going to do a nude family photo shoot of me and the girls – Hooray!!!!

Made friends with a Ghanaian called Kodjo who made me Carla and Helen drink ovaries.

Gyrated on stage at Panic wearing nothing but a gentleman’s singlet (procured from Herby – cheers Herbatron). I was loving it!

Pole danced on a lamppost on Great Portland Street for small pieces of Mars Delight Easter egg.

Made friends with a chubby version of Nathan Barley in the street (Easter egg) who turned out to be surprisingly good at body popping.

Clambered over the spikey gate of Soho Square Gardens at 3am on Tuesday morning purely to enjoy a subway roll and the company of the girls, Nathan Barley and his brother.

Went to Dead Mans Boots at Push and enjoyed listening to a dead man’s records, sipping whisky and having a pep talk from Fuad who always makes me feel better.

Stole some public art. (Oh the shame….I am clearly still 14 years old)

Went to a multi arts event at Corsica Studios in Elephant and Castle run by students of our old course. Very high standard this year.

This entry is dedicated to Helsy and Carla. I haven’t laughed so much as I did on Tuesday morning (on the night bus) in a very long time. Thank you girls for being spontaneous and reminding me what we used to be like. Let the good times roll….

So, lots of fun was had on Saturday.....Just the usual really. But I have started to ask myself whether we are too old to be going to shit indie discos? And what indeed draws me back there time and time again? Well, there are the obvious reasons....free guestlist, v. cheap drinks, seeing old mates and being able to people-watch and laugh at feathercuts. But for some reason, it's just not enough anymore........

Spent Sunday almost comatose in bed with Helen eating gross food and watching programmes on tigers, crocodiles and the Australian outback. Brilliant. Particularly wonderful was Two Brothers a tragic and moving tale about two tigers. Helen and I were so enthralled with it that we enthusiastically watched all the featurettes and extras one by one until we were tigered out.

Then I managed to wake myself up enough to cook two lasagnes for the hungry rats. It went really well until I had a panic attack when it came to serving it up and couldn't grasp the concept that I was cooking for 4 not 3. Phewph, scary.

Anyway. Am now having another quite dreary week at work in which I get cold in the porch, argue with people and moan. For that reason I am just about to fuck off home where I can get cold, argue with people and moan.

Great.