Aren't these things great? I am becoming a blog addict.....not just writing mine but reading other peoples'.
I am astounded at just how frank people are, I am stunned by the huge variety of topics and irritated by the ones that are nothing but blatent advertising.
Honestly, I have found myself reading about such personal details in peoples' lives and am loving it all in an alarmingly voyeuristic way. I remember back in the day, being highly amused at the incredible ease strangers would begin to discuss their bowel habits ( honestly I have been told about the dreaded constipation in the most bizarre places by total strangers) but this blog business knocks all that into a top hat!
I find myself tutting at the appalling grammar and spelling of the youth of today and admit that I have yet to tarry longer than a sentence or two before getting a headache and hitting the 'next blog' button.
I read about a fellow Englishwoman who is living a remarkably colourful existance and I have even read a blog written by a cat.
Simply marvellous, I am in danger of having to write about my divorce though as H is being somewhat ignored while I live others' lives right along with them ( In truth I suspect he hasn't even missed me as I bought him an MP3 player for christmas and many's the time I have been telling my innermost thoughts while he is listening to some obscure download or other) I did even tell him that he is to feel perfectly free to give me the wink should he be feeling the least bit passionate as he walks past me on his way to bed ( actually he'd be best giving me shove I doubt I'd notice a wink......oh I'm sorry, I'm shrieking aloud here because I just noticed the most appropriate typo, I typed an 'a' instead of an 'i' in wink!!) ...there now I've done it...telling you all personal details you can probably well live without! I shall be telling you about my bowels any day I bet you!

The miracle of modern technology..here I am, several hours later having put children to bed, driven a teenage son with an unexpected night off into town ( in my pyjamas no less......who'd have thought I could be so daring?!?)
I haven't ever been much of a nightclubber myself, I did have a very brief perid when I was a nursing student where I would persuade my fellow student nurses from Mount Gould Orthopaedic hospital to forget revising and come 'down town'. Not sure why I did that really, as dancing has always struck me as an absurd thing to do. I always imagine that there is no music and am agog at how ridiculous people look, which makes me feel ridiculous too and then I become pathetically wooden and do some kind of stomping twitch that I am convinced makes me look like I'm on day release from somewhere that ought to know better than to let me loose among the public. I'm sure it was a ruse to avoid revising and in fact it worked very well indeed.
I love people....I love to see the things we do, like taking Jordan out this evening..heavens, me? out at 9.30pm on a saturday night? The sights you see.
It's a different world out there, hoards of testosterone pumped young men in tight t-shirts not noticing the rain ( alcohol I presume, as it's plishing it down out there tonight) and girlies in white with copius amounts of skin showing, not noticing the biting wind that is making the rain come down sideways ( vanity I presume, as it is truly worthy of a substantial cardie at the very least out there) tottering on strappy sandals all gravitating towards the nightclubs and pubs where they hope to get together and meet Mr/s Right. Oh the folly of youth.
There are so many advantages to being 42, mother of 6, overweight and past it....you get to sit at home on a saturday night and have your husband, who loves the very wobble of you, pat you on the back as he walks past on his way to the bedroom and utter that irresistable line....... "how are your energy levels?" I think that's his equivalent of a wink.