A journey without a picture

A journey without a picture

image It’s not funny at the age of 43 selling your house and families falling apart asking how did it get to this? You know that feeling when everything seems… not how it’s meant to be? This wasn’t my writing. This wasn’t in the script. Was it a dream? I haven’t been sleeping well and at times it can be hard going. This all feels surreal. Moving every two or three days, sleeping on friends’ sofas… It can be fun if you’re surrounded by love. I have to admit, living an independent life as I do, it was also a bit hard to swallow. And, as most of the people I know are rock ‘n’ rollers and aging rockers, it can sometimes be exhausting. Now I too am living like a rock ‘n’ roller. Or maybe a tramp. The only difference is I change my underwear and shower every day. Even if I have to sneak into a gym to do so.

It doesn’t matter anyway; we’re only here on borrowed time. What I mean is you should live each day as though it’s your last. I remind myself of that all the time: it’s how I get through each day! I have a sister called Pauler  and she has been my rock. She’s my friend and my counsellor. We talk about schools, education, the property market, stocks and shares, the Swiss, Dutch and French stockmarkets, the falling, haemorrhaging stockmarkets, and my choices of boyfriend. She was never keen on the choices I made. Pauler’s a single mum and a very good one. Her son is well behaved and educated; he plays the piano beautifully. She gave my daughter piano lessons too. Pauler and I are very similar: we hold on to traditional family values. When I was preparing for the move, she was the one who told me to get my act together. “Antonia,” she said, “forget about your eyelashes and nails and focus on the important stuff.”

Still I went to Andre & Adam to get my hair done and to Fantas for my eyelashes. I was in Soho House and Gerry’s having champers and a good time. Don’t get me wrong: I had started to pack but my heart wasn’t in it. I guess I couldn’t face moving on. It’s supposed to be exciting but to me it was bittersweet. Pauler rings me every morning; she makes excuses for calling sometimes. I know she’s just checking in on me to make sure I’m still here. She was right: moving house is a life-changing experience and I should have prepared for it emotionally. Once again, Pauler was right and I was wrong. You couldn’t make up what happened next! Now Patrick. How can I describe him? Old-school, handsome, charming, fair – a true gentleman. He’s my estate agent from Moloney’s.

The day before I was due to move, we were going to have lunch to talk things over when he called and said: “Antonia, you need to be out of your house and hand over the keys by 4 o’ clock.” I dropped my phone and ordered a glass of malbec. Patrick could hear what was going on and was concerned. He turned up at the bar and demanded I get into his car. We drove straight to the house where I showed him the contract and he pointed out the completion date. The penny finally dropped. I’m fucked!… Find out what happens next week.

Pauler rings me every morning; she makes excuses for calling sometimes. I know she’s just checking in on me to make sure I’m still here. She was right: moving house is a life-changing experience and I should have prepared for it emotionally. Once again, Pauler was right and I was wrong. You couldn’t make up what happened next! Now Patrick. How can I describe him? Old-school, handsome, charming, fair – a true gentleman. He’s my estate agent from Moloney’s.

The day before I was due to move, we were going to have lunch to talk things over when he called and said: “Antonia, you need to be out of your house and hand over the keys by 4 o’ clock.” I dropped my phone and ordered a glass of malbec. Patrick could hear what was going on and was concerned. He turned up at the bar and demanded I get into his car. We drove straight to the house where I showed him the contract and he pointed out the completion date. The penny finally dropped. I’m fucked!… find out what happens next week.

My chest hurt. I went into the garden for a cigarette. Patrick arranged for a van to pick up my stuff. Or should I say ‘my life’? Two guys turned up with a van while Jessy, Mimi and MD were helping me pack. Jessy’s been my housemate for four years and has been like a daughter to me. I phoned a friend to ask if they could put the three of us up for the night (MD was going to stay with his brother) but no such luck. Patrick took pity on me and said I could put my stuff in the new house even before we completed. I was lucky. Not many estate agents would do that. When the guys finished loading the van, I pretended I had left something in the garden and headed outside. I guess they could see I was upset because everyone asked if I was okay. “Of course,” I said, “it’s just a house. It’s only bricks. I don’t do emotions.” What a ridiculous thing to say! The truth was I saw my life in black binbags and it made me feel somehow helpless. I did everything I could not to cry, but there are some emotions you can’t control and that was one of them. We got in the van and went to the new house to drop off my ‘life’. I say ‘life’ because that’s how it felt.

I suggested to my daughters, Jessy, Mimi and MD, that we stop off at The Hill for a drink. I say ‘my daughters’ because I felt as though I three rather than the one I do have, who is beautiful and very intelligent. It’s a mother-daughter thing. Anyway, The Hill is a bar/restaurant on Haverstock Hill, in a late-Victorian building with high ceilings and beautiful colours everywhere. So they dropped us off and I said goodbye to Patrick and the removal guys, although I felt bad because Patrick had been with me since 11 o’ clock that morning and now it was 10.30pm. As we sat outside the bar drinking our wine, I spotted Mark, a handsome young musician friend of mine that I had met in Sir Richard Steele’s pub.

I went up and asked him if he could put the three of us up and I think God must have been watching over me because he said yes. So my daughters and I made our way to Mark’s. I’ve only known Mark a few months but he behaved in such a gentlemanly way. He showed the girls their room and offered me his bedroom; I declined. We sat up drinking wine till 2 o’ clock in the morning. The girls went to bed and I got undressed to sleep on the sofa in my bra and knickers. Mark covered me with a blanket and I heard him walk into his bedroom. I must say I had the best sleep ever; I didn’t want to wake up, but morning came all the same. Half of my body was numb and the right of my head was pounding. Just the thought of having to carry a handbag – or, come to that, an empty plastic bag – seemed too much. You know that feeling of having the weight of the world on your shoulders, wondering whether you’ll live to see the next day, wanting to forget the day before, the vibration of your heart, feeling hot and cold, so hungry you could eat a table leg? Eventually, I got in the shower.

The girls organised a taxi and it dropped me off at England’s Lane, where I was going to see a good friend of mine called Celia. She runs the launderette on England’s Lane and is one of the most gentle people I’ve ever met. Slim, tall, Indian-African… You know those types of girls who are striking but don’t know it? That’s Celia. People go to her with their problems or just for a chat. I walk in and say, “Welcome to the coffee club, everyone!” When I first met Celia we clicked straight away and have been friends ever since. However, on this occasion I wasn’t feeling that bright so I spoke to her briefly then left – not sure where I was going but the nursing home on Primrose Hill was plan B. It was early in the morning and I just wanted that headache to stop. I walked across the road into Tesco, picked up a smoked salmon sandwich and ate it in the queue. Gosh, that felt better! I washed it down with a bottle of water and a couple of ibuprofen. Find out what happens next!…

I felt really bad because all the time Jessy had lived with me we had never fallen out or had a disagreement. I had watched this young girl develop into a wonderful lady with responsibilities; so kind and sincere. And while she wasn’t depending on me, I felt I had let her down. What with all the family stuff going on – you know, mother-and-daughter stuff – I kind of felt that I was losing the rest of my family too. Because I saw Jessy as my daughter as well. I’ve never been great with words, but Jessy and I had an understanding. We didn’t need any house rules; it just worked. Of course, it helped that she was tidy and a great cook! She made me laugh. We listened to music together. I would sing out of tune along to Kim Wilde: We’re the kids in America! It doesn’t matter when you’re surrounded by love.

I don’t want to sing that song again unless it’s with Jessy. Or my mate Jim Vane, who’s a real motorbike guy but a lovely person. Bikers have a reputation for being loud, dirty and smelly, but a lot of them are professional people and, from my experience (mainly of hanging out at the Ace Cafe off the North Circular), are gentle and respectable people with families or at least someone they belong to.  Jim once rode his bike through the Washington pub on England’s Lane. I wasn’t there, but how cool was that! Selling my house was the easy bit, even though a professional rugby player pulled out at one point. But, in the end, CH Peppiatt in Chalk Farm succeeded in doing the job. I mean, when you have people like Ken, the construction engineer from the north who sings opera with a beautiful voice – what more could I ask for? I knew it was time for me to make the move and sell my house. I was thinking long term: I didn’t want a mortgage wrapped around my neck like an albatross for the rest of my life.

I had bought the house for £545,000 with a mortgage worth £399,000 from Halifax. My daughter and I had been living there for almost nine years and, although I had been paying the mortgage all those years, that £399,000 didn’t seem to be going anywhere. At 43, I started to wonder if I would ever be in a situation to pay it off. Do I make a plan?  Do I spend my whole night plotting?   Would someone come to my aid… Tune into next week and find out!.. I started thinking more about my health, too. Once you hit your 40s, your body becomes like a car that gets rusty and knackered. It’s either too late for the dating shit or I can’t be bothered. I’m anxious that if my health goes I’ll be stuffed because I don’t have anyone to fall back on financially. I need to be realistic, especially considering the global recession. That’s why I took the conscious decision to sell the house for £1,075,000 and pay back Halifax. At this stage of my life, it’s a good idea to downsize and reduce the mortgage to a minimum of £75,000, which is a lot better then borrowing £399,000. But: one thing I never took into account was stamp duty. I spent hours looking for ways to avoid it, but it turns out it’s something you can’t avoid. In the end, I had to bite the bullet and pay over thirty one thousand pounds .

I think what I’m trying to say is: nothing prepared me.  What happened next… You couldn’t write it.  Find out what happen next week!…

I’m  too exhausted this week, I’ve been doing a ‘Gwyneth’ consciously uncoupling from the crap  in my address book. Other wise known as former “friends.” Continue next week!…

I  like to consider myself someone who thinks things through though perhaps on this occasion I failed. They say moving can be stressful, but it wasn’t just the moving. It was only weeks ago that Jessy and MD were playing air guitar and MD was saying things like “Antonia, you’re singing out of tune – get some sleep,” or “Antonia, there are some things you can’t undo.” Ken was singing Fame in an operatic style and of course I had joined in. Moments later, Mimi walks in looking happy as she does. I decide to take centre-stage by doing a cartwheel and jumping on the table. Then I lose my balance, the table seems to be giving way, and Mimi comes running to save me, so we both and the table come crashing down together. Apparently I passed out for a few minutes. I came round to hear Jessy saying, “Antonia, are you okay?” and I cried, “Oh, my wig!” and suddenly everyone was in stitches. I know it sounds crazy but it’s moments like that I cherished.

I mean there were other occasions of course like when I used to throw my daughter on the bed and tickle her under her arms and her feet so that she would laugh uncontrollably. The two of us used to go to the pub on Adelaide Road for Sunday lunch and listen to people singing the blues. She was about seven or eight at this time and would run on stage mimicking the people performing. I think that was the beginning of her love for music. And I’m proud to say she’s a much better singer than her mother. I used to love it when she would have sleepovers and I’d wake up to find bodies all sprawled over the house. But then she acquired an expensive taste for limousine parties with fancy dress codes…

It was only a few months ago that Pauler, my daughter, Casey and I were celebrating the New Year. My daughter was dressed up to the nines in a beautiful long dress; she looked stunning and I was proud. She looked how a girl should look at her age: flawless, her silky hair swept back into a neat bun, showing off her beautiful features. None of that nonsense of wearing skirts showing what they ate yesterday. Girls should look like girls and dress appropriately. Call me old school but that’s how it should be. Once a month, I would take my daughter to a posh restaurant in St John’s Wood called L’ Aventure, and I’d let her order a meal for two. Back then, it would always be fish because she was going through a vegetarian phase – except when I was cooking Sunday roast. Once we’d had enough, I’d say: “What shall I do with my plate?” and it on my head, making funny faces, or she’d come back from the cloakroom to find her plate had disappeared, or we’d go to the theatre and she would say, “Mummy, could you stop talking? We’re halfway through a play.” Of course, she was right. Another happy memory, which is why it was so hard to say goodbye to the house.

Another restaurant I often go to is La Gaffe in Hampstead Village. It’s been going for 50 years and has served all sorts of people from the Beatles to Oliver Reed and Joan Collins. Going there gives me an opportunity to check on my builders in Hampstead. To keep the cost of their work down, I knocked on about 25 people’s doors to see if I could get them somewhere to park. A lady called Shirley offered me a free parking space for my builders for a week: a place that no traffic warden could touch..  But I found a free place to park… Wait  for it …..Judge Walk in NW3 – seconds away from the ponds in Hampstead. To me it was a godsend, because I was responsible for their parking facilities. I just didn’t want to end up with Camden parking tickets again, especially when I don’t drive.  Con.. Next week!…

I met Stuart at La Gaffe while he was talking to Lorenzo the manager. It’s a place where you meet all sorts of interesting people, a lot of them artists. I also met Luke McDonald there; he does a lot of work for charity called “Food for life” London.What Luke does, is make natural juices – but how he got into natural juices was when he was diagnosed with incurable disease in 1997 following and completing the marathon. Seven years of miss diagnosed and in 2003 diagnosed with psoriatic arthritis (PA) aggressive strain of the chronic incurable disease. The only treatment available was frequent injections of a form of chemotherapy Methotrexate and Steroids.

Luke would encourage people to visit the Charity Shop! The bright blue and yellow charity shop on the corner of Caledonian road and Wharfedale road is the home of Food For All! Almost every day, 6 days a week, they distribute one thousand plates of free spiritually-enriched vegetarian food for anyone who cares to enjoy it! Luke would say feel free to pop in to our Shop ; make a generous DONATION DROP; savour the VEGGIE cooking classes; stretch in the YOGA sessions; or CHANT at our Hare Krishna Mantra Meditation experiences and enjoy a truly sumptuous vegetarian feast! Although, I have made donations … Sounds great but being an unreconstructed “rock chic” I need reforming.

Today, I’m at La Gaffe having a cup a tea and talking to Luke, a very interesting man with a good soul in fact quite dashing. We got into a conversation with Stuart, who in fact used to runs the Duke of Hamilton pub with his wife Gwen a very attractive couple.  Stuart,  is handsome with dark hair  like a ruby  player and his wife Gwen is dark hair,  slim with shapely figure very attractive with piercing dark eyes with an air of grace about her.  Stuart (his stage name is Anthony Cord) has played Stanhope in Journey’s End and also a lead role in John Hopkins’ This Story of Yours. One of things I admire about Stuart is that he staged and starred in a play called Macbeth, funding the whole thing himself. All the actors were spot on; even the lighting was spot on, the costumes were OMG… and that smell of Old Times felt so real. But at one stage I wanted to ask why Macbeth’s wife was plotting all these deaths and was happy for her husband to take the flak. I guess I had forgotten it wasn’t real- although it felt so. Emotionally feeling exhausted and looking for a place to stay. See you next week my first experience of homelessness!..

. Last night, I slept in my local pub in Hampstead; I can’t mention its name as I don’t want to get the landlord into trouble. I certainly won’t be doing that again: I could have sworn I saw a ghost. Or was it just a reflection of myself? I could hear the wooden floors creaking and it felt so creepy I couldn’t wait for daylight. I  was so desperate to go for a wee wee, but I was too scared to use the toilet … Gosh I almost wet my pants. At this stage of my life, I don’t want to be walking around with wet soggy knickers! When the cleaners came the following morning, I was so happy, so grateful I couldn’t get out quick enough. Haven’t been back since it’s been hard because I miss the locals. Tonight I will be sleeping in the launderette in England’s lane next door to Chamomile coffee bar which will be handy because I could have a wash in their sink (which is in their cloakroom) and wash my underwear and put them into (the launderette) machine, perfect! Feel bad, as Celia doesn’t know anything about this.

Although I have been offered places where I could stay – I just like to do my own thing and not be a burden to anyone. But I have set up a camera to document my situation so you could share my experience. The problem is when you live like this you tend to eat a lot of junk food and put on junk weight. But, having a break from cooking isn’t a bad thing. Funny really, I slept in the laundrette dreaming of the date to enrol for another course, because a couple of months ago, I had just completed desktop publishing at the Shell (1) One, Boundary Road London NW8 0HS. My tutor is Zoe Lee and her helpers are Chris and Suzette. It’s great having two helpers because, if you’re dyslexic or a slow learner, having extra helpers gives you that extra confidence, because the helpers spend extra time with you and you don’t fall behind anyone. (Well I’ve managed not to) My tutor is really cool and a fantastic tutor.

Zoe has a way of explaining things in simple terms for understanding and if you don’t understand – then she will explain in another context. I couldn’t wish for a better tutor than Zoe. Saying that, she’s not a pushover, for example, if you’re going to be late she wants info in advance. If the phone goes off in a lesson – it won’t happen again. I wouldn’t say she’s strict, but I’d say she is fair. People have so much respect for Zoe, that even if you’re having one of those down days feeling blue, you somehow have the knack to pick your self up and get to the lessons. The reason why is because, you feel that you have let her down although it’s yourself you’re letting down. Everybody in the class is on the same path . We all want the same thing “education” and progression. What makes this lesson unique is we have great group discussions, brain storming and Zoe has a great way of explaining the topic ie photoshop, the layout or web design. I do look forward to Thursdays because after the lessons, the students and I would go for a coffee and discuss what we had learnt and brain storm and get ideas from each other. In fact I’d say we have fantastic people in the class- not one bad apple – in a nutshell, great teamwork. Couldn’t wish for anything better then that.

The course that I have enrolled on is web designing with WordPress. I decided to take “Word Press” because I needed to improve my website because I got fed up of people promising that they would help then your left standing. So – rather then keep asking – it made more sense to learn the program myself. Kid you not there is nothing more satisfying then that. Indeed, I can’t tell you the pleasure I get from learning and if all is well that could lead on to more work. As a photographer, it’s great for people to see my work or even read my blogs. Despite living here and there – I could honestly say nothing could get in the way of my course. I had planned and plotted a great idea. I’ll give you a hint In fact that was “plan B” which I mentioned in the early part of the story. Although that may be wrong, I think I might be ok. You never guessed or wouldn’t stoop so low as I had. Would this work and can I make this happen? You couldn’t write it or even believe it… Tune in next week and find out!…..

I know it sounds wrong but I managed to borrow my friend’s freedom bus pass but, secretly got up set because they didn’t question my age- but I got even more upset when the bus driver didn’t question my age… can you image. Although the Nursing Home in Finchley is extremely clean and tidy and the aroma of food. This brings back that comfort feeling of my mothers cooking. The bedroom was basic, self contained with kitchen and bathroom with an emergency cord- no complaints. I just wished I could have stayed longer. Again, I guess I should thank God for small mercies – but at least I managed to stay for over two weeks. The people were great company to be with and the story’s they told me about their first love, or one women escaped the Jewish camp, another woman who was a art dealer. But, although those people were in their late seventies and a couple in their eighties. For some reason something made me wanted to do something with these people. So I went to a local store and and bought a bottle of red wine, Melbec (Argentinian wine) Because I only had two cups, and a couple wine glass. Well we had a great time shared some story’s, in fact the more the night went on, the more I felt compelled  to go out. So I suggest to four elderly women to come and join me in Camden Town “Joes Bar” To my astonishment they agreed to come out with me. Joes bar is in Camden a hip venue a good mix of people (different nationalities) upper site the round house.

The atmosphere can be off the wall, one particular Dj called Tyrone, a friend of mine who plays “rock in roll” music. Tyrone has great personality and dresses very slick. In a nut shell a funky dude whose fun to hang out with. Joes bar is known for their famous hot dogs and burgers and mixtures of cocktails. It’s a great place to be and a friendly atmosphere. The names has been omitted to protect the residents and the good name of the nursing home. Unfortunately, this nursing home you had to back by 9 o clock, luckily because I’m on the ground floor I had left my window open. We had got a taxi to camden and went to “Joes Bar” and believe it or not we had dance are pants off and got back at 1.30 am.

When we got back to the nursing home I climbed though the window on the ground floor, and one of the women suggested I give her a hand to climb in. I suggested that they all should go to the main entrance so I could open the door to let them in. The following morning I was concern because I didn’t see them in the foyer, the area where they would normally have coffee and a chat. As it turned out they had a lie in, I was so relieved  because I was very careful of the amount of measures of wine we had shared and was worried because not only did they out dance me, kid you not they had so much energy. Few days later one of the women knocked on my door in the early evening and invited me to join them for a glass of wine. Well an offer I couldn’t refuse so I had join them and had a fun evening discussing life. It’s true what they say everybody has a book within them. You wouldn’t imagine what happened next…. Find out what happened next!…

. Today I had a discussion with my new mates from the nursing home. I had organised a taxi to take them to Jerry’s bar in Dean Street Soho later that evening. Jerry’s bar has a reputation for actors/actresses, singers and celebrities. It’s a membership club and one of the very few places left where its surrounded by artists’ pictures of actors/actresses who have been there in the past and present its a very decorated place with moody lighting. I guess, in a nutshell, people in the entertainment business. Jerry’s bar is an absolutely unique place with creative people with a present and colourful past. On a Wednesday night you get Kenny who plays the piano and sings. He plays the piano beautifully and sings from his heart. In fact he was Shirley Bassey’s pianist. I would describe Kenny as a mature man who is a great entertainer with such a gentle soul. This club is spotless; in fact you could eat ‘off the toilet seat’. It’s one of the few places left – whoever enters Jerry’s club, you will always be greeted by someone … “Good evening” Madam or Sir! The people tend to have an air of grace about them… And I love it …I love the greetings. Very few people do that nowadays.

The owner of Jerry’s bar is Michael, who is very attractive and has a very distinguished look about him. I would describe him as slim and slick well built and has an elegance about him. To the lady’s he would say… “Darling my name is Michael …. Not Jerry” with a slight cheeky schoolboy look. Girls tend to melt with that smile of his. Michael is loved by everyone man or woman because he has an addictive personality that would light up the room as well as being charming he’s great company. My new mates love Kenny the pianist, because he has sung Moon Dance written by Van Morrison. Kenny also sang Frank Sinatra’s “My Way” we were plodding along to Kenny and I think they were overwhelmed by the surroundings, in terms of atmosphere.

We drank champs between us and were ready to go back to the nursing home. Only this time it’s 12.30 am, I felt  that we did remarkably well. Only this time I felt uneasy about climbing through the ground floor window in six inch stiletto high heels! We got back safely and one of my mates suggest we have a nightcap in the foyer they supplied sherry and I provided cups and glasses. We drank sherry and they thanked me for taken them to “Jerry’s” I thanked them for their company. One of them asked me if I could sing… So I decided to sing a Marilyn Monroe number. “Diamonds are a girls best friend” they were laughing and clapping. Wasn’t sure if they were impressed but, I enjoyed every second and every minute of it  (I’m feeling pretty anxious because I have one more night left to stay at the nursing home and I haven’t told my new friends yet- nevertheless all ends well.  See you next week… There’s so much more!…

Got a knock on my door this morning…oops! I was told I was loud last night and was seen on CCTV – on camera drinking alcohol with my new mates. I apologised and felt quite embarrassed. I think that was a warning; on that note I must take it easy.

Life could be funny; some of the most simple things in life can be satisfying. Mimi rang and suggested we go for a game of pool or maybe snooker I can’t remember. I went reluctantly, because the thought of seeing Mimi would be quite sad because I know Mimi and Jessie are going back to France soon which I find devastating, a thing hard to swallow.

But it’s been fun. I played “pool” for the first time for thirty years – with Mimi and her friends at a pub called The Good Mixer in Camden Town, London. Pool has never been that interesting to me but it was nice to have a positive challenging distraction. I must say it was brilliant, even Mimi was impressed I could play although she’s a great player. She certainly knows how to clear the table. Playing pool was fun and quite addictive.

The Good Mixer is very working class with interesting people and down-to-earth; one of the few places in London where you get Real Ale. I have mixed emotions, because I know my time in the nursing home is coming to an end – one more night. I so wish I could extend my stay. I guess I thank god for small mercies. Said my goodbyes to Mimi and went back home… To the nursing home feeling tired from the night before.

This morning I made a cup of tea and drank it in the foyer discussing how bad the weather was in terms of always raining! I had explained to my new mates this was my last night. I felt overwhelmed with their response – could you believe it? One of them offered me a room to share with them, which I thought was really sweet, although I couldn’t, because it was time to make plans and move on. I did agree to spend my last evening playing cards and Scrabble. I hate this feeling when you have to be ‘stiff upper lip’ and carry on as though there isn’t any affect whatsoever; especially when your stomach is full of butterflies. My housemates are so warm and kind. We arranged to meet early evening and in the meantime I continued packing and made a small contribution towards my stay. Everything seem packed and ready to go with a spare set of clothes laid out for tomorrow. Trying to keep my spirits up, because I know I have to go back to “sofa serving” one sofa to another – here we go!

I arrived back to my room pacing up and down thinking where do I go from here? Thinking and thinking, making a couple of calls as to what, where and when… I will be sofa surfing… Must say I don’t want to leave the nursing home I felt comfortable. Stability, you know that feeling of … That’s the word – happy in your skin, a great feeling. I so don’t want to leave here I could stay here forever.

I could feel my heart pounding with uncertainties. I took a deep breath reminding myself “We are here to be tested” or “It’s not how you start it’s how you finish”, although it seems hard to see the light at the end of the tunnel.

I made my way to see the girls in the foyer and tried to be happy and not upset.

One of them mimics me yesterday singing; we were laughing but I must say she was spot on. We talked and laughed. I think I’m going to miss them I’m so lucky to have met nice people in this situation. We played scrabble and I cheated by getting words from a local newspaper next to me and couldn’t believe it I still lost.

I gave my friends a hug and thanked them for the company and made my way back to the room. Threw my clothes off, jumped into the shower – the feeling of hot water is therapeutic – dried myself off and got into bed thinking this is it my last night. Do I find a place? Or does the Prince on the White Horse come to my rescue? Or do I find a park bench…you couldn’t write it… Find out next week!..

Staying in Archway at my friend’s Andy’s sofa bed for a few days. Great location and a good person. He’s been though a lot had lost his son and I guess I forgive him because sometimes we just clashed, which didn’t last for two minutes! However I’ve known him for a hundred years and I’ve always had a soft spot for him. He’s like a brother to me nothing more and nothing less. Andy and I sometimes go for a stroll in the Heath and talk about life and stuff. Sometimes he gets me into fits of laughter.

I met up with a friend of mine called Michael Stuart and we had a drink with Collin and Mel Townsend at the Arches’ in South Hampstead. Collin Cookson is another musician and a very good one- whose in an eight piece band so they seem to have a lot in common. The Arches is a local bar in South Hampstead that draws more than just the locals thanks to its superior wine list and tempting food. It is one of the most popular bars in Hampstead and is almost always full in the evenings. This place was amazing with great staff and very decorative surroundings although Archers back in 1958 used to be a local bakery.

I think it’s fair to say that the Arches is one of those places you can go when you need cheering up because there is always a good crowd and the atmosphere is friendly but not intrusive. Although the bar is usually full, it is not too noisy for conversation. For example, I left the guys for ten minutes to have a cigarette and got talking to a bunch of people I didn’t know. There were a couple of bankers talking about the stock market, a nurse who talked about problems at the NHS, and a guy who talked about bathrooms and a production line in China. He felt the quality wasn’t great so he moved his company from China to Birmingham. I said that maybe the Chinese just wanted to be paid properly and not be exploited. It was a very informative ten minutes. When I got back to my mates, Mel had decided to leave, while Colin and Michael got into a conversation about psychology. It seemed quite deep to me, even though I have a degree in psychology. After two or three glasses of wine, I don’t want a heavy conversation on that subject with two guys, so I managed to steer the conversation round to diets, health and colonic irrigation. I don’t know how we ended up there but we did.

Towards the end of the evening, I went back to Michael’s place in South Hampstead. It was very spacious, clean and tidy. He offered me his sofa and I asked him if he could make me cheese on toast. After that, Michael went to bed and I crawled in with him. He’s an absolute gentleman and I knew he wouldn’t make a move on me. He has the most gorgeous lips. You know, those plumped-up, kissable lips you see on girls in glossy magazines. What he has naturally, girls would pay a fortune for. I had the pleasure of planting a kiss on those lips; they were warm, full and very inviting. Girls, watch out for Mike Stewart of South Hampstead, a great listener with kissable lips: he’s clean living, doesn’t mind the odd glass of wine and doesn’t take drugs; is extremely intelligent with broad shoulders and the rippling muscles of a rugby player!

But anyway, at the moment I’m living in Queen’s Park and it’s quite cool. I’m staying on my friend’s sofa and living with two guys sharing an apartment. One is Mel, a rock ’n’ roller who plays guitar in his band most nights. The other, Ross, is a bit of a recluse; he hates guitars and noise. But although they’re so different, I couldn’t wish for cooler flatmates to live with.

The other night, I went out with an artist called Ysan, who is absolutely stunning, and a good friend called Mike Sullivan who I’ve known for 25 years. We had a meeting regarding contracts then Mike left to go home, and Ysen and I went out for a meal at La Gaffe, then we went on to Gerry’s bar in Soho. It was like coming home. This place is very old school and full of actors and singers. Although I sing out of tune, I still have a go and enjoy it. I didn’t want the evening to end. It was when Ysen and I decided to get a taxi at about one in the morning when everything started to go downhill. When I got back to Queen’s Park, I realised I hadn’t got my keys, and those guys are deep sleepers. I didn’t want to ring anyone at that time of the morning, so I spent the night until about 6 am sleeping on the doorstep. I know it sounds odd but it actually wasn’t that bad. If my family only knew! Especially my beloved brother Glen who lives in Scotland – he would had been disappointed.

On a lighter note, one evening with Mel and Ross we were watching a film called Shooter starring Mark Wahlberg on Channel 4. I asked if we could catch up with Coronation Street instead, and they looked at me as if I was on drugs. I guessed I don’t like bloodthirsty films; I just didn’t get it. I kept asking questions about why the characters were doing this and that, and Mel and Ross told me to shut up. I guess I inherited my mother’s fondness for talking throughout a film as though it’s real life. As things started to unfold, I burst into tears because so many people were dying and it felt so real. I tried to cosy up to Mel and Ross but from the response I got I might as well have been a teapot! I suppose no one wants a weeping, scared freak when they’re trying to watch a film.

I think my ex-partners were right: I’m too independent and too old in the tooth to change. My friends describe me as eccentric, mad and at times pedantic. I’d say they’re all wrong and I’m no different from anyone else. Maybe slightly different.

Sometimes emotions get you when you least expect them! Losing someone especially your soul mate ( Bestfriend) could be the hardest thing to accept. I thought I had got over… sometimes you see people in the street who look similar to that person. You walk quicker towards that (person) figure of imagination hoping although you know it’s not them or sometimes a song or a smell lingers past you and gives you comfort or sometimes sadness.

You know that jagged fucking pill you want to swallow and you can’t and reach for another glass of water. One minute your angry with the world and, next you want the world to hold (cuddle you) and comfort you. People have no fucking conception of how your feeling, you stop talking to people because it seems much easier without having to explain. Although my best friend went on his travels 13th of February 2010, still feels like very recent. Tune into next week!…

There’s never been a time I haven’t thought about Harold Eice; I knew him for over 35 years. He was my best friend, mentor and soul mate but he left this world on the 13th of February 2010.

Although we were never in a relationship, I had the utmost respect for him, because he was loyal and sincere. Any guy I meet tomorrow could never fill his shoes. Through this journey, I have met some nice men and women who have taken me out for wonderful dinners and although I reciprocate, it’s nice to see different faces. Men tend to use the word ‘love’ too loosely. I have had relationships, and good ones, but nothing in sprit could come close to Harold and I. Sometimes Harold and I wouldn’t even talk but we some how connected. Sometimes we had even laughed at the sometime without an explanation! I have been blessed to have had that. Not many people do.

We did clash now and then, but not much – over silly things, like him going on that I’m burning candles both ends. I would say “I’m only twenty not a hundred an twenty.” Or he would say, “When are you going to stop that tacky modelling and get yourself a descent education.” I replied, ” You don’t need an education to take your clothes off for Playboy Centrefold.” Harold would sometimes walk out in disgust! Sometimes we wouldn’t talk for a day or two, he’s very old school, which is what I loved about him.

I guess, in a strange way, he kept me grounded and hated my choices in men because I was always attracted to ‘rock en roll’ guys who road 3,000cc Harley Davidson motor bikes. I went though a phase the bigger and meaner the better; that thin line of excitement and danger, and I loved the thrill of it, and still do, absolutely loved it.

His heart was always in the right place and very selfless, I think, if my relationships had half of the connection Harold and I had, It’s fair to say ill be the luckiest woman in the world.

Harold was the third man in our relationship, I was told that by boyfriends in the past. When a boyfriend of mine wanted to take me to Gloucestershire for a romantic weekend or over the Christmas period and book a grand palace hotel. More likely Harold would be a half-mile away in a bed and breakfast somewhere that I book because I couldn’t afford to book a five stars hotel.

Harold would let the “cat out the bag” that I had booked a cheap bed and breakfast for him. Sometimes it was a problem because I hadn’t explained to my boyfriend that Harold was there. Because I knew it would be awkward, but Harold was my soulmate for many years who encouraged me to go back to education and supported me emotional. But, over the years Harold got fragile and I felt it was an honourable thing for me to do was to look after him, because I wanted to.

Over the years Harold was very honest and kind to me, whom I have never forgotten, sometimes in life you should never forget people who were kind to you.

People can be so selfish! They happily take handouts, but they never reciprocate when they’re in a better position. Selfish f…! Harold came first before any of my boyfriends, although I didn’t make it obvious, my loyalty was with Harold. I guess a boyfriend, may have picked up on that, nevertheless, that’s how it was.

I would describe Harold as tall slim and had this distinguished look, a man of elegance and very well spoken. His pet hates were nightclubs… But he was a good dancer, especially to Blondie “Heart Of Glass” or Annie Lennox “Sweet dreams” and had an eye for the blondes. Unfortunately he wasn’t into rock and roll but I forgave him!Although we were never in a relationship, I had the utmost respect for him, because he was loyal and sincere. Any guy I meet tomorrow could never fill his shoes. Through this journey, I have met some nice men and women who have taken me out for wonderful dinners and although I reciprocate, it’s nice to see different faces. Men tend to use the word ‘love’ too loosely. I have had relationships, and good ones, but nothing in sprit could come close to Harold and I. Sometimes Harold and I wouldn’t even talk but we some how connected. Sometimes we had even laughed at the sometime without an explanation! I have been blessed to have had that. Not many people do.

We did clash now and then, but not much – over silly things, like him going on that I’m burning candles both ends. I would say “I’m only twenty not a hundred an twenty.” Or he would say, “When are you going to stop that tacky modelling and get yourself a descent education.” I replied, ” You don’t need an education to take your clothes off for Playboy Centrefold.” Harold would sometimes walk out in disgust! Sometimes we wouldn’t talk for a day or two, he’s very old school, which is what I loved about him.

I guess, in a strange way, he kept me grounded and hated my choices in men because I was always attracted to rock & roll guys who road 3,000cc Harley Davidson motor bikes. I went though a phase the bigger and meaner the better; that thin line of excitement and danger, and I loved the thrill of it, and still do, absolutely loved it.

His heart was always in the right place and very selfless, I think, if my relationships had half of the connection Harold and I had, It’s fair to say ill be the luckiest woman in the world.

Harold was the third man in our relationship, I was told that by boyfriends in the past. When a boyfriend of mine wanted to take me to Gloucestershire for a romantic weekend or over the Christmas period and book a grand palace hotel. More likely Harold would be a half-mile away in a bed and breakfast somewhere that I book because I couldn’t afford to book a five stars hotel.

Harold would let the “cat out the bag” that I had booked a cheap bed and breakfast for him. Sometimes it was a problem because I hadn’t explained to my boyfriend that Harold was there. Because I knew it would be awkward, but Harold was my soulmate for many years who encouraged me to go back to education and supported me emotional. But, over the years Harold got fragile and I felt it was an honourable thing for me to do was to look after him, because I wanted to.

Over the years Harold was very honest and kind to me, whom I have never forgotten, sometimes in life you should never forget people who were kind to you.

People can be so selfish! They happily take handouts, but they never reciprocate when they’re in a better position. Selfish f…! Harold came first before any of my boyfriends, although I didn’t make it obvious, my loyalty was with Harold. I guess a boyfriend, may have picked up on that, nevertheless, that’s how it was.

I would describe Harold as tall slim and had this distinguished look, a man of elegance and very well spoken. His pet hates were nightclubs… But he was a good dancer, especially to Blondie “Heart Of Glass” or Annie Lennox “Sweet dreams” and had an eye for the blondes. Unfortunately he wasn’t into rock and roll but I forgave him!

Back in the late 80s I would take Harold to Stringfellows nightclub, and we would have breakfast. The bunny girls, half naked, would plant a kiss on his cheeks; I would fall apart laughing because I knew what was coming. (Mind you Harold had something for blondes). Harold would say, ” Why don’t you put on some decent clothes.” Or offer to take them to a charity shop or British Home Store in Melton Keynes. The girls would smile and not reply, because they wouldn’t; they would be hoping to get a rich man to buy them Prada, Chanel and all those top brands. He would turn his chair away and have his plate on his lap eating breakfast. I guess he was the only man in String-fellows who didn’t want to see naked girls with big boobs! Mind you he did like their fry-up breakfast, he never left anything on his plate and complained when I did, then finished off what I had left on the plate.

Back in those days in the 90s I would take Harold to membership places like Soho House or the Met bar and I would ask Harold to join me outside whilst I was having a cigarette. Only this was a special cigarette a “wacky backy”, Harold never smoked, but I suggested to him this cigarette doesn’t taste right. I asked Harold to try it and what a mistake that was! We went back into Soho house, I paid the bill and Harold slammed his hand on the table and said, “That bill is well over the top!” Mind you, they took off ten per cent! I think because of his age – being in his late seventies. OMG! He could barely walk… I took the keys from him and insisted he came home with me and stay at mine.

Took a bit of persuasion because Harold – being Harold – likes his privacy and his surroundings, and hates London for what it stands for. Noise! He only came to London because of me, and his love for the Royal Festival Hall, a true friend. Still find it hard to even discuss him.

Many years ago Harold, mentioned in the early 90s, that if he ever got in a position that he’s incontinent or terminally ill, will I promise that I would escort him to Switzerland to have euthanasia. I promised him, but when he got sick in 2008 I did everything to keep him here. I even tricked him into taking him out for lunch (his favourite restaurant BHS in Milton Keynes) instead I ordered a taxi and took him into a walk-in clinic and begged the doctors to assess him, and call an ambulance. That was hard, but I couldn’t let him waste away.

A year and a half later he was still in hospital and got worse, I had visited him three times a week; the last visit he whispered Switzerland. That split second I convinced myself I didn’t hear him. To cut the story short, I got a phone call from the hospital asking if Harold needed to be resuscitated – did you know his feelings on that… I was f…. shocked; I suggested that he definitely would want to be alive, although I know he didn’t. Saying yes to what he suggested years ago to go to Switzerland and, in realty when you’re faced with it… It was different. Up to this day I feel quite guilty and felt that I let him down but, I just felt that I wasn’t prepared to play God with someone’s life although there’s a part of me that wished I had. Tune into next week!..

Have you ever f… up? Well I did again an embarrassing moment.. Have you ever sent a text to someone and it’s the wrong person or even spoken to someone for a few minutes and its so not the person you had in mind… I did OMG…it kind of killed the romance… Ha ha …I wanted the floor to swallow me up! You couldn’t write it .. Would you want to? Tune in …next week and see!…

One morning, to my astonishment, I thought I was talking to a housemate I put up in a hostel but it was the wrong person. You know that feeling when you have too much on your plate and you redial and it’s the wrong number? You want the floor to swallow you up. Well I did, and I thought I was reassuring this guy a tenant that the house would be ready and I could give him the keys. But the response was a different voice:

“Antonia, why would you want to give me the keys?” “But you’ve been ringing me all weekend, MD.” To cut the story short, it turned out I was talking to this guy I’d had a kind of encounter with. He’d taken for out for wonderful meals and I’d felt a real chemistry between us but maybe it was the wrong timing. We got on so well – at least, until he thought I was asking him for the keys to his home. To think he would be so lucky. I felt a bit of arrogance there. I won’t mention his name, but this guy was a creative director a great writer at “Ihctass & Ihctass.”

When I first met him, he said, “I hope you’re not one of those smelly-farty girls,” and I wasn’t quite sure what he meant, but halfway through the evening, he was breaking wind, which was quite off putting. I asked him if he had a problem, and as it turned out he had irritable bowel syndrome, which was fair enough; it’s a medical issue. We went out to one of my favourite Italian restaurants in Hampstead and during the meal we talked about simple things like work and stuff. Then he went on to say he had fallen in love with me and kept repeating, “Thank you, God”. Although I wasn’t sure if I felt the same way he did in many ways make me laugh.

But what I found bizarre was when he pointed out that my hair at the back of my head was getting thinner. I laughed it off but the world ‘impertinent’ springs to mind. I reminded him that only a couple of weeks ago he had mentioned he had a problem having his picture taken because he’s going bald; he prefers photos taken from his forehead down to his shoulders. Personally, I would say he’s quite handsome. Although I could see that he was trying to project his insecurities onto me, I went on to ask him how long he had been living in his apartment and how he came by it.

The reason was that I had a friend who lived in the same building, and they had bought from the council. But for some reason that subject was quickly put to bed. His apartment is a spacious one-bed near the Royal Free Hospital – a great location. On a few occasions when we went to bed, I would have nice hot shower and dressed in Agent Provocative Seductive underwear, (well sometimes)

I crept into his arms we laid like spoons in a position then turning over and kissing, I gave him a slightly gentle bite on his lip. Rubbing my body against his body, we were stroking each other, again, and kissing each other all over our body’s, that feeling of electricity going though your body your heart beating and pounding with excitement and wanting so much more. Staring into each others loving eyes, caressing each other with his tongue slithering down my neck biting my nipples.

But, just when it gets to the heat of passion, bursting with excitement to want to take it further….. He stops and starts wanking himself profusely, I thought that was part of foul play, I got it so wrong. It was actually… how could I put it.

He ejaculated while we were just lying next to each other, not even touching. I don’t mind trying something new, but I thought that was strange. I had to ask him who he was thinking about when he released himself. You see, above his bed was an enormous picture of Liz Hurley. I don’t mind; I’d say she’s quite sexy and, besides, I’ve had relationships with women in the past – but I preferred men.But, I thought how bizarre that the heat of the climate then…that happens.

Found out do I see him again?..  Or do I look around for a frogs  to kiss  to find the Prince!…

Tune into next week.. You couldn’t write it!..

I had always made it clear I didn’t take drugs and wouldn’t get involved with anyone who did, whether cocaine or steroids. He swore he didn’t, and I believe him and still do. But I couldn’t understand how he came to have those rippling muscles of a rugby player…very sexy and all the package!

He had great taste in clothes and would take me to fantastic restaurants and talk about what he wanted to do to me. Although the bed situation was better in words than action, he would shower me with beautiful clothes and underwear – somehow, he always managed to get my size, even though we had never had a discussion about clothes.

Sometimes, he would dress up in tight clothing that showed off his rippling muscles and strong, thick legs, and recite exquisite poetry to me late at night. While he didn’t always get the timing right, the poems usually ended with a passionate kiss and me thinking something was going to happen. I guess it did: we fell asleep in each other’s arms.

Once, we went away for a weekend we went sightseeing – that is in terms of seeing this magnificent church and a load of quirky antiques shops. I loved it and his company was great – so far. We stayed at this amazing hotel called The Old Bell. Our bedroom was to die for, with high ceilings and a massive bed – the sort you want to dive into. It all looked very romantic. The staff were fantastic they even upgraded us without extra cost…. We got the honey moon suit and it was so beautiful, with lighted candles round the room … So romantic.

This hotel stands on foundations that date back to 1220, allowing it to call itself the oldest hotel in Britain. It’s situated right next to a historic abbey, with parts having been built on top of the old churchyard. It’s situated right next to the historic abbey, with parts of the hotel having been built on the old abbey churchyard. Over the years, there have been many additions to the hotel, giving the hotel a variety of styles, from Medieval and Edwardian in the main house to Japanese in the coach house. Went sightseeing in terms of seeing this magnificent church – The Abbey, church and quirky antiques shops. I loved it and his company was great so far. We looked at places together because he was going to be working in Wiltshire and he needed to rent an apartment. The one thing I didn’t like when I was with him looking at properties to rent, was each place we looked at he would ask the estate agent to be quiet to check on traffic, then put his ear plugs in to see if he would pick up sounds.

We had a fantastic meal at the old bell hotel and drank crystal champagne, we spoke about things and laughed. Again he talked about what he wanted to do to me in bed, we were rubbing our feet against each other under the table and squeezing each others hands with a softly peck on his little lips. At that moment I forgot we were surrounded by people although felt like it was only him and I in this restaurant. I look around discreetly making sure no one could see and started rubbing his thick strong thighs, under the table. We had a great evening together, everything was perfect and you couldn’t wish for more.

We laid on the bed staring into each others eyes, smiling and teasing kissing and eventually taking each others cloths off. I took hold of his hand and led him to the shower. We showered together soaking each other in lavender and drying each other off. He leads me to the bed kissing, stroking and then he kisses my feet and sucks my big toe. I kissed and licked him all over like ice cream, I felt his penis getting harder. He’d drawn his penis towards me, while I had been stroking his balls, thrusting my lower body against his penis. Our bodies were slippery with sweat and a smell of lusted sex. He whispered that he love me and how he adored me. Breathing heavily into my right ear fondling my nipples. In bed it seemed hotter then a week in Benidorm, because our body temperature became sky high.

I flirted and had teased him loosely with a black silk silky scarf, blindfolded him and teased him gently pulling his hair from his hairy chest with my teeth. I had unfolded the black silky scarf and had teased him by lashing the silky scarf against his body with his penis erected on the tip of my tongue. I rubbed his erected penis between my boobs, feeling the hot air from his heavy breathing. He had turned me over and had kissed my bum cheeks, fondled and had caressed my vagina with his fingers. He had slowly turn me over on my back and put the black silky scarf round my neck, whilst gasping for air almost strangulation – that thin line between pleasure and danger.

 

Licking and kissing me all over, I turned to my side stroking his balls and licking the tip of his penis… I wrapped my hand round his penis… and, had rubbed his penis up and down slowly with my lower body thrusted towards his penis. Whilst doing that, I felt my body was exactly aching, aching with pain to be penetrated. I took a slight look at him from the corner of my left eye and I could see that he looked thirsted. Wondering if he had felt that sudden and wanted aching pain, that urge of wanting to fuck me profusely…

Instead he laid on his back and wanked himself into he ejaculated.
Wishful thinking I took a deep breath thinking which is the best way to approach this conversation on sex. I had asked him… “What are your thoughts .. I’m I in them.” I then went onto another question… “When you close yours eyes and had ejaculated .. Who do you see.” His suggested that he may have over wanked himself back in the days of being a public school boy.

I had asked him why he doesn’t want to penetrate and suggested we should go and see someone. I think what I am trying to say is – why don’t we see a sex therapist, I tried to be as careful with my words. I think in a nutshell he hasn’t stopped since. Great for him..but for me this is headfuck, and frustrating… How could this possibly work?… Does my sex life end at forty four! Surely not. I questioned myself if I was being selfish.

Such a shame he has a body to die for and so romantic and kind. He kind of had all the right package a women would want! Very intellectual and sometimes could be funny and sometimes an insensitive fucker….nevertheless there was just something amazing about him. Tune into next week!…

He needed to rent an apartment as he was starting a new job in Wiltshire, so we looked at some properties together. One thing I didn’t like was that in each apartment he asked the estate agent to be quiet so that he could check the noise from the traffic, then he put in ear plugs to see if he could still pick it up. I thought that was a bit crazy because he always sleeps with ear plugs in anyway. But, I guess I should not be so selfish because he suffers from insomnia , insomnia seems to be quite common these days.

Yesterday, he was looking at an apartment that cost £1,350 a month; I suggested that, even though the new company had given him £20,000 towards relocation costs, it wasn’t a smart move to rent somewhere so expensive. I suggested he get settled in his job first to see if it’s the right decision. As it turned out, we found a lovely two-bedroom apartment for £600 a month near The Old Bell – you could hear the church bells ringing. He had mentioned that his mother wanted to move from Manchester to Wiltshire with him and would be giving him £100,000 towards his buying a property in the near future… Wiltshire is picturesque and clean with pretty shops and restaurants, but I have no intention of leaving London. .. Well not yet anyway.

We stayed in Malmesbury, a market town and civil parish in the southern Cotswolds. Dyson is headquartered in Malmesbury, which became prominent in the Middle Ages as a centre for learning focused around Malmesbury Abbey. Once the site of an Iron Age fort, it is the oldest borough in England, created around 880AD by charter from Alfred the Great. Again, I think it’s one of the nicest places in the world.

We got back to London and met during the week. I had a meeting with a couple of people in The Holly Bush in Hampstead so I had arranged for him to meet me there. I got talking to the staff and managed to persuade them to play Pink Floyd. It was an amazing night; the staff behind the bar were dancing, as indeed was I. Then he walked in. His expression said it all: he really wasn’t impressed. I was too happy to care. We walked past my house to his and the conversation was about him leaving “Ihitaas & Ihitass” and how he wants to organise a leaving party with a goodbye speech.

I asked him why he hadn’t seemed to show any interest in my project, by which I mean my house. He replied that I must have employed someone to find the property and how could I possibly know about this house for sale. In fact, it was my three girls – Mimi, Henrietta and Jessy – and I who had been looking for houses every day for a few months. I asked him a direct question: “Do you have a problem with me being independent?” He didn’t answer but I kind of figured out the answer.

We went back to his place and it was getting late – I think about 1.30 in the morning. We went to bed and he lent over his side of the bed. I thought he was reaching for a packet of condoms, and was thinking, well, I don’t really fancy it right now but perhaps he could change my mind…

But it turned out he had something else in mind. He wanted to discuss his leaving speech, and what he would be wearing for that occasion – which was flipping six weeks away! I got up and had a shower, thinking of something Albert Einstein said: “No problem can be solved from the same level of consciousness that created it.” On that note, I got dressed and left.

I guess it was time for me to call it a day. He’s not a bad guy, just hadn’t worked out. It reminded me of an article I’d recently read in the paper about the wife of celebrity chef Heston Blumenthal and why she divorced him. Apparently he woke her up at 2am one night, not for sex but insisting that she tasted his crème brulée. I was secretly jealous that she had got offered a crème brûlée, mind you, I’d have preferred a crème brulée to a goodbye speech. When I read this article, I couldn’t stop laughing, which was embarrassing because I was on my own in a public place.  Do I make a plan?  Or do I go with the flow… Tune into next week!..

You’re probably wondering why I haven’t rented a house in London instead of sleeping on friend’s sofas and in launderettes. The thing is, I thought everything would go smoothly, but I came across a few hitches that weren’t my fault but for legal reasons I can’t go into the details. And these delayed me getting the builders in. I thought about hotels and I also thought about keeping costs down because I’m having my new home renovated and that’s not funny. I really liked my new home last week. Today – fucking hate the place!

There are times when I think it’s so exciting – then there are times when I think: what have I done? But in a strange way, I sense a journey… It’s a quirky house with a lot of potential if handled with love. The house was built in 1800 and is listed, but at the moment it’s an occupational health hazard!

Through this period, I have adopted a philosophical viewpoint. Do you carry the stress and die? We’re all going to die anyway, so what’s the use of carrying the stress? We’re only here on borrowed time so we need to enjoy what precious time we have. so I try telling myself.

There’s got to be more to life than this. I know this isn’t it. I didn’t choose to do it this way, but whatever life throws at you, you have to deal with to the best of your ability. While I have friends like Paula, Luciana Pinto de oliveira, Maryann, Carmen, Angela, Christian, Wayne, Colin Cookson, Mike Stewart, Glenford Wright, Roslyn Morris, Anil Hiranadani Mel, (sure I’ve missed people out) whose houses I know I could turn up at and say, “I’m in trouble – I need somewhere to stay,” and I would be welcomed with open arms – but they all have families and I wouldn’t want to interrupt their family routines. I pick my battles carefully.

But, what’s remarkable about true friendship is I hadn’t seen some of those people for years, although I know in my heart if I ‘d pick up the phone the conversation would had been as if I had spoken to them last week. Although it could be months or even years. I appreciate my friends and sometimes I should let them know.

Yesterday, I went to the doctor’s and was told that my alopecia had come back. I looked in a mirror and held a small mirror to the back of my head, and I could see a few bald patches. That, I could deal with – but I also have a mole on the left cheek of my bottom, and a boil on the right side of my eye lid which has changed, so I had to go to hospital for tests. I’m still waiting for the results – (I told you that my body was falling a part and needed an MOT)… but at least it’s hidden, unlike the alopecia. Andrea my hairdresser was so kind – he knew something was wrong and offered me the option to have my hair done in private. But I refused – I didn’t want my alopecia to get in the way of the conversations I have with the staff because they’re good people – young and fun, and they give me tips on the latest music.

I have a friend called Wayne Murray, who I’ve known for 35 years. He’s a musician and sings amazingly. He’s a fantastic person. We would take it in turns to buy takeaways or he’d cook us a lovely meal. He would send me funny texts that would lift my spirits: ‘Fucker, where are you tonight? Park bench?’ ‘Fucker, where are you? The morgue? Sleeping rough on the heath?’ ‘You open the fridge and the lights are on but no home to eat in.’ And so on. I love him – he makes me laugh and I know he means no harm. He has always called me a tomboy – ever since I asked him to teach me how to fix a car, and plaster a wall.

I might have been staying on friends’ sofas but there have been some wonderful situations where I’ve gone to various shopping centres for a free 20-minute massage. I must say that does the trick when your in need of a Lift. To get those massagers you need to go to places like Westfield shopping Mall, Ealing high street, Elephant and Castle shopping centre, Westfield Shepherds Bush/Stratford and Ealing High Street shopping centre.

Right now I feel amazing …continue next week!..

 

On reflection this is going to be a long, long weekend because I will have a mole removed from the left cheek of my bottom followed by a biospy on my lower back. I’m obviously feeling a bit anxious although all will be well. Tune into next week!..

Not feeling so great I had the operation and my left cheek of my bottom hurts like hell although all is well…

This week seem to be a hard pill to swallow because I have two more events to attend to unfortunately leaving ones and I will be taking pictures. The first event is Jessy’s Magassa party from 6- 12 pm ASL Holborn ( is where you’ll find us for free bowling and few drinks before leaving London) and the second one Is Mimi leaving goodbye party the following day at the Engineer, Primrose hill North London. Deep down I don’t want to go to any of them because I find the whole thing too bloody emotional.

 

Yesterday was Jessy’s Magassa leaving party and Mimi and Jessy took me out for lunch at the engineer. We had a Sunday lunch OMG with a whole chicken, roast potatoes, stuffing, turnips, carrots and peas. The Sunday roast was amazing and sometimes there are things better than sex and that was one of them. After our meal we had left the Engineer to Holborn, it was bitter sweet because I felt that I was losing Jessy and happy for her at the same time. Jessy’s & Mimi’s friends and I were bowling, drinking champagne, shots of neat Jamaican Rum, eating it was amazing! Jessy, did a speech and I did everything to hold my tears back. I pretended that my eye lash was in my eye. Just needed to keep cool and that, besides I was covering the photography leaving party. Jessy & Mimi and her friends wanted to continuing partying. Although, I wanted to I just couldn’t. The pain was too great-too much I felt broken with mixed emotions but in spirit I was there… in fact always will be.

 

Today is Mimi’s leaving party at the Engineer, which again is going to be another emotional event. I arrived at the Engineer and we were waiting for Jessy and Mimi. The atmosphere was nice and listening to 80s music with plenty of food, beer and wine. Again, I was taking pictures and you could see the emotions in people’s faces very similar to Jessy’s. At this point Mimi and Jessy arrive and everybody cheered. Everyone was talking amongst them selves and I was getting introduced to people and described as Mimi and Jessy’s second mother. I was really touched by that. Every one was having fun although there were tears amongst some people including myself. Again, I must say I couldn’t have met anyone as nice as Jessy and Mimi, a fantastic couple. If there’s anyone who is meant to be together- I honestly could say it’s them. They are so similar in so many ways. There’s not one bad bone between them- very good souls. As time went on Mimi & Jessy wanted to continue partying. Again, although I wanted to – the pain was to great- that feeling of losing someone you love. The mix emotions of losing two people. At this point I had made my excuses and left.

Today I was at Elephant and Castle because I felt like a car that had broken down and needed MOT. I had got my hair done and eye lashes. I thought it make sense to wash my clothes- so I had pop into the launderette to get them dry. Then I had got the tube from Elephant and Castle to Hampstead. Whilst sitting on the tube a couple of young girls young enough to be my daughter’s – drinking from beer cans. I approached them and asked why are you drinking beer? They said they wanted to get trashed and were fed up. I had offered them five pounds for there beers- and explained that they were to young and not to drink there life away. I had encouraged them to work towards goals & dreams. “Come on girls everyone has dreams” One of the girls excepted five pounds from me, but, I eventually got the beers from them. It’s quite scary that a girl of that age of fourteen or fifteen has stress, I hope I had made a difference to them.

Tune into next week you couldn’t write it!..

 

I got off at Hampstead, and walked into la Gaffe restaurant in Heath Street and got talking to Luke and Lucas. Anthony Cord walks in and we all got talking and Anthony mentioned he’s about to put on another show on at The Hampstead Theatre NW3 (London) and presents a powerful new play called the Voices. It’s about two men who meet a few years after the Great War and decide to play a game of ghosts, which is to take them on a journey paved with the slaying of a generation. It is a sad and terrible one, but is filled with humour, dignity and a willingness to accept their fate. It is not a celebration of war, but a play for remembrance.

Yesterday was a hard pill to swallow because my friend Sally Farmiloe-Neville has cancer and I was covering her book launch as a photography. The book launch was a very emotional period – She looked great as stunning as usual. She had a lot of people supporting her with her daughter Jade whose presence “stiff upper lip” I could feel her pain and I could see she’s being strong/brave for her mother’s sake. Sally has had a colourful life style and been involved with charities for many years and is an actress and played the main character in Home and Away indeed, went on to do stage performance and tv commercial’s and was the face for my exhibition on many occasions. We go back over twenty-five years or so and have done so much together. Although Sally looked great and still had that gentle softly spoken voice its was upsetting to see how much weight she had lost and the sparkle in hers eyes had disappeared. I had slowly taking deep breaths without being obvious or noticed.

 

I can’t wait to see the play -I feel very honoured to take promotional pictures for the play called Voices. I had taken pictures of Anthony Cord and Ben who also played in Elephant Man… Omg it was amazing so exciting. Fantastic people to work for and shooting those guys were really good and easy to work with. Anthony Cord directed the shoot and I just followed instructions. But… I wasn’t going to stop shooting till It felt right – eventually it felt spot on. I thank the two actors and made my way to the computer shop to convert them from colour into black and whites. Although, I prefer to shoot on film, I think it’s fair to say black and white pictures tells much more of a story.

Yesterday I saw a play where Anthony Cord and Ben Waring performed at the New End Theatre called the Voices in Hampstead. Two men Anthony and Ben meet a few years after The Great War and decide to play a game of ghosts, which is to take them on- A journey paved with The slaying of A generation. It is a sad and terrible one, but is filled with humour, dignity and a willingness to accept their fate. It not a celebration of war, but a play for remembrance. Two actors who lived in the past with multi – personalities of past experience though the First World War. They were using words like…. “who spake the world that blood should splash in lanes”? “Who spread the hill with blood and flesh and brains?” In between conversations Ben had splattered with his uttering words were “Who made the law that men should die in meadows?”

Both of them are living today and switched on emotions of the past remembering the dead and how they lost people in the trenches. But… One of the guys called Anthony had suffered much more then the other because Ben had found a wife and his wife at the time was pregnant and he was trying to move on whereas the Anthony was still living in the past and hasn’t managed to move on and looked a broken man with Anthony’s words he had uttered … They talked about death the people who were lost in the First World War. Again, Anthony stuttered and had uttered words with tears streaming down his face…. “Who gave it fourth that gardens should be boneyards” ….Where as the other guy Ben looked clean shaven in his pinstriped suit working as a banker and had moved on to family life. The play the “Remembrance” a flash of remembrance – past between two people. The play was exactly that- which was played by Anthony Cord and Ben Waring a very emotional play and fantastic to watch. The lighting and music effect was done with passion and so much love by a young girl called Iyce Kariuki.

Tune into next week!…

This is something I need to share with you – absolutely fucking absurd! So far everything you’re reading is real. In fact you couldn’t write it. My story’s real because it’s happening, factual – because it’s facts and it’s my story because I’m writing it. It’s just about ‘moving’ but things happen keep reading and I hope someone learns from my experience of cheating, lying conniving, motherfucker and a son of a bitch and a c…. But otherwise I’m fine!

But, I’m too exhausted this week, I’ve been doing a ‘Gwyneth’ consciously uncoupling from the crap from people who seemed full of promises, platitudes and innuendoes, of empty words, of nothing. Otherwise talks a lot of codswallop known as intellect. Been for long walks and off to Wiltshire to unwind and breath and to assess life!.. Continue in a couple of days…Tune into next week!..

This morning I had opened a letter from Inland Revenue regarding stamp duty and a fine for late payments. As far as I knew, I had transferred over thirty two thousand pounds in stamp duty into the law firm’s account! Believe me it was such a jaw dropping, shocking experience. As it turned out my lawyer hadn’t paid my stamp duty, although I had made a bank transfer into my lawyer’s company. To add more insult to the injuries my lawyer, xxx, had confirmed that my stamp duty was paid back several months ago. In fact I had found out today that over a certain amount of cash was held in the law firm’s account since. We are now several months and weeks had gone by. I got in contact with the mortgage company who luckily took my word for it providing I sent them proofs, which I did.

Well, they were horrified and got in contact with the law firm and intervened on my behalf. I didn’t know whom to turn to. As it turned out, the boss hadn’t quite got the full information about what was going on within his law firm and wanted more money from me in legal fees – and was concerned if I take this to the press because I had suggested that to my lawyer xxx secretary in a conversation I had earlier.

The names and the law firm has been omitted to protect myself!!!

Looking back – right from the beginning – things weren’t quite right. The mortgage company recommended a law firm in Finchley Central called Xxxxxxx solicitors and the mortgage advisor, called Neil, suggested to the lawyer Xxxxxx that you have to have three partners because of a particular type of mortgage I was taking out. I honestly believe that the mortgage company were genuine and they were generally. In fact if law firms act like my mortgage broker life would be so much easier. My lawyer suggested that there were three partners and in fact there were only two. Because the lender who provides the mortgage company had got in contact with the Law Society, which confirmed that there’s two partners instead of three. In the middle of this stress xxxx introduce me to a law firm ten minutes away.

The lawyer was called Ali Halil at Hugh James solicitor’s a very professional company. He told me how much he was going to charge me. I suggested to xxxx that why should I pay twice for two lawyers for one job especially when you lied to the mortgage company and also the lender about three partnerships and you expect me to pay more money for her lies! Her reply was she deals with the finance and Ali Halil at Hugh James deals with the paper work. I suggested there is no way I have bought and sold properties in the past and I had never had to deal with two lawyers… and she agreed at that time. But… unfortunately I didn’t get it in writing although I was fortunate to have the mortgage guy and the lender to back my claim because she had lied to them to and plus the mortgage company had the transcript of their conversation they had with my lawyer xxxx. In fact I was saved by the mortgage company, if it weren’t for Blemain honestly, with no doubt I would have had a nervous break down although I’m in a dark place as it is.  This you couldn’t write…tune into next week!..

Yesterday I had been talking to Luke who has been a good listener and a good friend, Paula I call my sister, Luke, sometimes feelslike I’ve known him one hundred years, Colin Cookson my friend, Honest John, Mo, Judith and her husband John the dentist – although I’m surrounded by love. I visualised jumping from a highest building and not wanting to be here anymore, can’t do that not keen on heights. You then have those strange visions. But I have been feeling like this for the last three weeks. For some reason it just feels easier, just feels right. I have no reason why I feel like this, for some unknown reason it just feels so right- so easy. I don’t know if this is an illness or just the blues. But… I do love life and also love peace. But, sometimes things can be too much I’ve never been a borrower.

I found myself borrowing left, right and centre because I was running out of money. Paula, Ken, Coral Johnson , Andy, Ian and Vicky Greg Miskiw. Rosalyn my sister-in-law and David Sullivan but you realised whom your friends were when you’re at rock bottom. Believe me I did. But, it’s nice to know that I had so many people who generally loved me and wanted to help me, although my pride sometimes got in the way. I also heard from a good friend of mine Brian Coke, I’ve known him over 30 years and I haven’t spoken to him for a couple or so years. We had a conversation earlier as if we had spoken last week. He heard about my blog and the first thing he said is – is there anything he could do to help me. He hasn’t changed he has always been a giver with a heart of gold.

Got another letter from Stamp Duty, in fact as it turned out, that was my sixth letter…
I found myself borrowing left, right and centre because I was running out of money. Paula, Ken, Coral Johnson , Andy, Ian and Vicky Greg Miskiw. Rosalyn my sister-in-law and David Sullivan but you realised whom your friends were when you’re at rock bottom. Believe me I did. But, it’s nice to know that I had so many people who generally loved me and wanted to help me, although my pride sometimes got in the way. I also heard from a good friend of mine Brian Coke, I’ve known him over 30 years and I haven’t spoken to him for a couple or so years. We had a conversation earlier as if we had spoken last week. He heard about my blog and the first thing he said was – is there anything he could do to help me. He hasn’t changed he has always been a giver with a heart of gold.

Got another letter from Stamp Duty, in fact as it turned out, that was my sixth letter…

I didn’t read the letter properly, but I could see they wanted to repossess my house! The letter stated that I hadn’t paid my Stamp Duty and that they had sent me a few reminders. I believe that, because at one point there were so many bills, I stopped opening the letters. Although I had come across other letters from British gas and BT. British gas had a warrant to turn up with the police and remove my belongings i.e. furniture with a bill of just under five hundred. Which is quite baffling when there are no gas pipes and not even a gas meter I wish I did have gas, this house has been cold. How they manage to take a reading without a meter is beyond me. BT  sent me a bill for four hundred and fifty five pounds. Then confirmed it’s been handed over to the debt agency. Again, this is strange considering I don’t have a telephone line. In fact this house has never had a telephone line for twenty-five years. Now you tell me how this works- again you couldn’t write the script.

When I contacted BT, I reach a call  centre in India – and you’re having to spell every word to them because sometimes they don’t speak English. In the end,you end up having to scream down the phone with frustration and start getting heart palpitations.  There you have it a complete mess and what a fuck up for now! Tune into next week!..

My friend Sally died- early afternoon today.  Not a good day- glad she’s no longer in pain!

I was in shock and couldn’t see a way out. I felt so ashamed, having been quite successful and yet now such a failure. I just couldn’t see a way out of this mess! How and when could I find the money to pay the Stamp Duty? I’m completely fucked; there’s f… no hope for me. I’ve been screwed by the law firm! I have no idea where I could go from here. Have you ever been in a situation when things go terribly wrong and you sit and think for days or even months pondering how this happened? You question yourself and secretly wonder, have you gone mad or maybe lost the plot.

I felt really scared and shaken and not knowing where to go! I was thinking Christmas is coming and it’s the first time without my daughter and I miss her so much. That felt quite painful – although I hadn’t felt the Christmas spirit I had spent my whole night wondering how I could find a solution. I think the bottom line is – I’m truly screwed and I honestly can’t see a way out of this mess.

It’s winter and four degrees and my body feels numb and my feet are as cold as ice! Not forgetting I’ve had builders from hell through a recommendation by a guy who was a friend and I’m convinced he was taking a backhander. Would you believe it? One morning, about 11 o clock, the builders were drunk and one semi conscious guy laying on top of my bed – the bed was only delivered a couple of days before.

Builders leave my house as a health hazard: electric cables hanging from ceilings, no running hot water and a front door that doesn’t close! What a coincidence builders are on their Christmas holiday for three weeks and the guy who recommended the builders is on holiday in Barbados for two weeks! Couldn’t write the script could you? On top of this mess, I’m running out of money feeling completely fucked! I really don’t want to be here anymore.

One morning I had gone to an Internet cafe in Swiss Cottage. I had been looking on a suicide website discreetly, where I could end everything painlessly and making it look like an accident. Then I went to several chemists and pharmacies, buying different tablets (pain killers) and an off- licence to buy a bottle of vodka and a bottle of champagne, even thinking of who and where do I get some relief. I had made an in appointment with my doctor to have a repeat two months supply of prescription tablets (anti depressants) I had felt that I needed something strong to get rid of this hopeless feeling.

I had popped into a pawnshop in Camden to pawn my Cartier watch for £800 and for the first time in my life I had wished I had known a drug dealer. But, all my friends are straight. So I guess that rules out that!

This house is cold and a mess! In fact my life is a fucking mess… I haven’t felt like this for many, many years – apart from the eighties, living on the streets and going from hostel to hostel! But, looking back, that was quite a luxury. Or maybe I was younger and had nothing much to lose. I kept asking myself how the fuck could I get out of this situation, is there a solution? Will I lose my house? Am I strong enough to accept it? The answer is ‘No!’ and I can’t accept it! I ask myself – this can’t be true, how can I prove this? I’m I strong enough to fight, because – at this moment – I feel weak, useless and desperate.

I can’t even talk to someone because I feel such shame and hopelessness. Round and round I questioned over and over… How the fuck did it get like this? What ‘How’ and ‘When’ – because right now you couldn’t write it! I mean how do you approach this subject to your friends? “I’m fucked, about to lose my home and I’m potless, but don’t worry I’m fine” happy fucking Christmas! Ha ha! This is awful you just couldn’t write it. If you would have said to me last year this would have happened – I’m sure I would have had high ‘stakes’ to say no way! Life is a mystery; you never know what’s around the corner.

My mobile had been ringing and I hadn’t bothered to answer it because I had been feeling pretty merry and a feeling of peace with the world – a bottle of vodka and champagne followed with boxes of tablets I had purchased earlier on and antidepressant tablets. Feeling amazing! I think, pissed but very relaxed and happy. That feeling of… Everything’s ok and you no longer feel cold. Wasn’t sure but I felt a certain presence in the room an old man smell – it felt like Harold. Again, not sure but it could be that I hadn’t showered for a couple of days! The water was cold and it’s four degrees and it’s winter.

I have no idea how I woke up at the Royal Free hospital having my stomach pumped out and feeling strange, desperate and ashamed. If there were a hole in the ground – I honestly would have dived into it although I never had the strength. The staff at the Royal Free encouraged me to have counselling, which I had refused. And, my friend Wayne by my side explaining next time I’ll do it for you. At that point I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

It’s so strange I was with Luke and Rob only a few weeks ago at La Gaffe; Rob is a poet and a black cab driver. Rob made a comment about a hearse that we saw driving by. His comment was “Whenever I see a hearse go by, I say you lucky bastard you got away” (Robin Runciman 2013 talking about life.)  Luke and I not many weeks ago saw the funny side. But, actually there’s some truth in Rob’s comment- Lucky fuckers did get away and I’m still here. But, I’m happy to be here!  Tune  into next week!..

I had a good start today and visited my accountant a woman named Gay, she was very supportive and got in contact with the law firm that I had problems with and also got in touch with the Law Society. I think this has opened up a can of worms and for the first time I feel a hundred per cent confident to take on this awful law firm. My accountant has been fantastic and supportive.

I reported a threat made by the law firm ‘there will be consequences” because I was planning on taking this matter to the law society.

My friend Mike Stuart supported me by going to Kentish Town police. I suggested that I would be taking this further, because I felt I was treated badly. I think it’s fair to say most people would say the context of the words are a threat and I wasn’t going to be taking any chances.

I forgot to mention (I won’t mention his name because of the respect I have for his family) there is a guy staying at my home who had everything, but lost everything! In terms of having a home, business, about to get married. He has never been right since. Camden Mental Health has been at my home to assess him. I’ll be brief – it’s quite a sad story. To cut to the chase his parents had been supporting him i.e. rent. Two young girls turned up to assess him – personally I thought they were too young – they looked young enough to be my daughter! Nevertheless, they did their best although at this point I felt it was a waste of taxpayers’ money.

But… A week later six people turned up to do an a assessment on him, Personally, I thought it was a bit over-the-top, but maybe I’m wrong because I don’t know how this system works. I was told from Mental Health that I’d be expecting a call from the Mental Health service to say when the police have a slot for him to be sectioned. This sounds like we are talking about a lifeless stock. I’m trying to get my head round this and OMG you couldn’t treat an animal like this – surely there would be a backlash… What’s happened to empathy, are we really that selfish? Unfortunately we are! But I have learnt one thing – we are so uneducated regarding mental health.

We take it for granted, not knowing what triggers off illness or madness. We haven’t managed to find a solution. It’s still a taboo subject and people ignore the obvious and won’t accept the truth. Although I have a degree in Psychology and Sociology, this does not make me a psychologist or sociologist, although on this occasion I wish I was. Because I have met a person who is my tenant with perhaps mental health problems. This doesn’t make me a healer – or someone who can take away the pain and fix it. This is something you can’t just rub away. But, it’s scary to see a situation where you could see things unfolding although that person’s not life threatening. He’s a very gentle person; slim and smartly dressed and he constantly talks to himself. He was a successful person who had everything; a house in Belsize Park, a good business in fashion and he had a high profile girlfriend.

A bad decision he made in business went wrong. He lost his business, home and his girlfriend. In fact he lost everything and hasn’t recovered and he has lost his way. He had many friends from the beginning but I think he has exhausted his friendships. Again, it boils down to people who don’t understand or are scared. I had a lengthy conversation with his mother. His parents are in their eighties although they look much younger, but nevertheless very loving and caring people. His parents got in contact with three or four doctors almost three years ago.

They diagnosed him fit and well they even thought his mother was overly protective. If those so called “doctors” were doing their job properly I’m convinced he would have been a lot better today and his parents would not have suffered for so many years. His mother begged the doctors to reassess him but they did to no avail. Then, this year – early January – there was a breakthrough and it was confirmed he needed medication. Although he refused the medication and left the area where he was living. Basically, he slipped through the net and went to a different part of London.

I really do feel for the parents! They should be relaxing and enjoying their retirement. Instead they are travelling from Stratford-upon-Avon to London to check on their son. Most hotels or bed/breakfasts refuse to accept him. In fact, a person I know who has a hotel in Belsize Park could no longer have him. I was told he wasn’t well but not really informed properly. But – in a strange way – this has been an eye opener because I could honestly say I have a bit more knowledge even though I’m very disappointed with our system in terms of mental Health.

This has given me a better understanding as to why there are so many people that you and I see on the streets that are not well. Some take medication and can manage themselves. But there are a huge amount that can be a danger to themselves or to the public. It’s such a shame we have to go through red tape and bureaucracy; then eventually, if that person is lucky, they may even get help! But when you think about this there has been a massive increase in mental health problems. Some people are harmless but you also get the dangerous ones roaming the streets.

My god! Is this how things work, is this the only solution? Dare I say it? They have made huge cutbacks in NHS services and have announced that Mental Health will be one of the first affected. If that’s the case I think it’s fair to say we have more problems ahead. I ask myself this question … Is this it? …. (God help us).  Tune into next week!..

I have never cried so much and it’s the first time I don’t have my daughter here for christmas . But… I’ll be fine and I can’t wait for this year to be flipping over and done with.

My friend – or should I say a boyfriend from the past – that I had written about earlier in this blog… He and I had celebrated New Years Eve at The Shard. It was amazing and the nine-course meal was fantastic! We had a falling out in November. Just when I was getting over him – he sent me a text and phoned me. Although I had always liked him – I kept my distance up to a point and we sorted out our differences. Although the relationship went pear-shaped, what I did enjoy was that this guy could have a constructive conversation and at least he carries it through so that your brain is stimulated without feeling full of platitudes and innuendoes about nothing.

I think sometimes men underestimate that women actually, ‘want the same thing’. I feel very honoured in my generation – which we, as women, are more acceptable that we are no longer looked upon as small minded people and we don’t settle for nothing less. But, conversation-wise he’s amazingly fucking good! I don’t care what anyone says, one of the ingredients, besides sex, is the brain stimulation of two people who could relate to each other. In many ways we had. Or I thought so! That guy I was seeing was a burglar not a real one – a burglar in terms of he had stolen my heart and I guess I don’t do emotions, well. I do, but don’t do emotions the way I used to.

Today I been to a friend’s wake , his name was Rob a lovely guy – didn’t know him that well. Rob was a local who I met in the Washington pub – and all the locals from a pub called Sir Richards Steels. Got home at 12.30 I had heard the door been bolted and my tenant muttering and had locked me out. At that point I was really pissed off. Although I knew this guy wasn’t well and suffers from mental health issues. Well … I wanted to kill the fucker! Not because he’s not well any fucker who locks me out of my own house. Especially when it’s four degree and winter!!.

Black people and cold weather don’t go we’ll together. It’s like a vegetarian having a beef burger.  Tune into next week!..

I was in a bewildered moment of time and felt quite gloomy with the rain pelting heavily against my windows. The team from mental health had arrived whilst I had waited anxiously thinking how my tenant would take being sectioned. A policeman and a policewoman had turned up with one social worker and two carers. This person had no idea those people were in my home. I felt that I had betrayed him because I knew this was coming. They got together and had made a plan to speak to this person. From the beginning it wasn’t too easy. But, they were very professional and had encouraged him to leave with them and get help.

In that time an ambulance was sent to my address to pick him up and the care team. They had been on the phone to his mother explaining the procedures in fact they were very informative and reassuring. The teamwork handled him very well. Emotionally it seemed quite sad- he had I pressed his soft lips onto my cheeks with his smartly dressed and smarting eyes full with uncertainties walking out the door with his slim body and had thanked me for letting him stay. Tune in a couple of days!..
I was in a bewildered moment of time and felt quite gloomy with the rain pelting heavily against my windows. The team from mental health had arrived whilst I had waited anxiously thinking how my tenant would take being sectioned. A policeman and a policewoman had turned up with one social worker and two carers. This person had no idea those people were in my home. I felt that I had betrayed him because I knew this was coming. They got together and had made a plan to speak to this person. From the beginning it wasn’t too easy. But, they were very professional and had encouraged him to leave with them and get help. In that time an ambulance was sent to my address to pick him up and the care team.

They had been on the phone to his mother explaining the procedures in fact they were very informative and reassuring. The teamwork handled him very well. Emotionally it seemed quite sad- he had pressed his soft lips onto my cheeks with his smartly dressed and smarting eyes full with uncertainties walking out the door with his slim body and had thanked me for letting him stay.

Looking back I think if he gets medication he’ll be fine. But, unfortunately it’s the drug companies who are quids in. Then those people are left with drugs/medication addiction. I feel that the NHS is under lords to the drug barons Socrates renowned philosopher and father of medicine stated physician heal thyself.

Alternative and Complementary therapies would save NHS substantial amount of money. And, also benefit the patients in as much as the drugs prescribed would not be damaging their body’s inasmuch as more drugs are needed to counteract the side effects of the chemicals they are ingesting.

Some people use the cliche of ‘you are what you eat’ some would say .. What are you eating… If you buy an organic apple and washed it in ‘Thames water.. Well it’s no longer organic. And some people would say ‘you are what you absorb!

The following article maybe interesting to the readers of my blog an article published last year on a government web site regarding Aspartame produced by the drug company Monsanto. Tune into next week!..

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Please read there’s more and tune into next week!…

 

image       Wake up!..
On a lighter note I would like to share with you an entertaining evening at Pentameters theatre.

I went to watch a play called The Tree which was written by Bernado Stella. It’s such a powerful new play, a modern day Romeo and Juliet set amidst the terrible backdrop of a war torn Sarajevo. First of all I hadn’t realised how talented Bernado was as a writer besides having a successful restaurant called la Gaffe in Hampstead Heath Street. The play was at Pentameters Theatre on Heath Street in Hampstead. The theatre was full, amongst the crowd were Martin Bell, (war correspondent) David Soul (actor) and Amanda Patel a journalist.

The reason why the title of the play was centred around the tree. The tree was planted by a Serb, to mark the beginning of new house and new life. The tree was planted in his garden, although the Muslim adjoining neighbour saw that as a problem for his foundations due to the root growth and damage to his property.
The play was based on two people who were in love. Both sides of the family wouldn’t accept them as a couple (boyfriend/girlfriend) in fact not even their friendship because one family is a Muslim and the other family is a Serb.

Unfortunately as teenagers do, a group of students had played truth or dare at a university campus. Two people had lost and in return they had to be blindfolded separately and brought together and kissed. The girl who he happened to have kissed was in fact a muslim whose parents had already had a muslim future husband lined up. But… The kiss for the muslim girl wasn’t just a kiss. It was unfortunately her first kiss and the beginning of her falling in love. They removed their blindfolds and discovered they were neighbours.

Although she had tried to explain there can’t be a relationship because of cultural differences To the Serb, it didn’t make a difference because he had fallen in love. It was the start of him climbing up the tree to declare his undying love. The muslim girl’s bedroom was facing the upper branches.

Unfortunately, war had broke out and houses and businesses were bombed and burnt down. Food supply was very low and what food was available became expensive.
Nothing got between the muslim girl and the serb, it was a love that no -one could break. But, …..sadly they met their fate.

But if I had to write a preview it would be like this :-

Pentameters Theatre, The Tree written by Bernardo Stella set in the city of Saarajevo in the midst of violence and the suffering of ethnic cleansing that engulfed Bosnia in the early 1990’s. The Production opens with romantic music, A narrator with great projection with strong emotions who had a background with the country. He was a peace keeper in and out of scenes with the growing tension between two neighbours. As the violence escalated into an ethnic bloodbath. The whole performance worked fantastically well together and and insight into the tragedy that once plagued Sarajevo and split the country by religion. The acting was amazing and great team work with an educational twist. It was a tragic tale told with real emotions and played with great great gusto.  Tune into next week

I went to Wiltshire for the weekend and stayed in Malmesbury. I must say Wiltshire is beautiful and sometimes I forget how beautiful England is. My friend and I visited The Old Bell which brought back memories. We went out for dinner and we had a nine course meal at The Bath Priory, in Bath. It was amazingly romantic with high ceilings, White thick carpets, thick cream draped curtains, dining tables six feet apart from each other, although the lighting was quite bright. I would have expected it to be slightly dimmed, yet everything, the ambience, atmosphere just worked – in fact spot on. Somehow it had a great feeling to it with classical music playing in the background. Being there I felt wow… Fantastic!

He looked so adorable in his tuxedo, a black suit with a fitted jacket and silky white shirt black tie and polished shoes. If that’s one thing I find delightful in men is when they smell and look fresh, clean nails, polished shoes and sit or stand up right, no slouching nonsense. But, personally, a confident person will more likely bring you pleasure, whereas an insecure person will drain you, hinder you and give you pain!

That’s probably why I live on my own, the less habits I know about someone the better.

A brief history of the hotel. It was built in 1835 as a private residence, on land once owned by The Priory of Bath Abbey.

( “The Bath Priory Hotel blends into a row of 19th century houses on the west side of Bath, Somerset. The hotel is built from traditional honey coloured Bath stone fashioned in a gothic style, discreetly situated behind high walls on a tree lined residential road giving the feeling of a country house hotel.

The house was a private home until the 1960s when it was converted into a dormitory wing for The Park School two doors down. It was then changed into a private boy’s prep school. It remained as a school until 1969, when the house was bought and converted in to a seven bedroom hotel – using its former name and becoming the Bath Priory Hotel and Restaurant. Soon after it was bought by John Dupay where he saw eight more bedrooms added. John Dupay was Chef-Patron and his wife Thea Dupay was Maitre de Maison – during this time the restaurant continued to receive special mentions and awards, with a constant high rating by Egon Ronay, the AA restaurant guide and the British Industry. John and Thea still visit us yearly to see how the hotel is faring.

The restaurant was set in two different rooms, one an imposing Gothic room with Georgian furniture and period paintings; the other a terrace overlooking the courtyard with a small fountain.)

After the meal we went back to the hotel where there was lavenders and petals spread over the poster bed with a bottle of crystal champagne in an ice bucket on a bedside table. The carpet was really thick with different shades of cream colours. The bathroom was amazing with walk-in shower and an old-fashioned bath. Almost had this Victorian feel to it and seemed so inviting. We had undressed each other and had showered together – kissing, caressing and laughing.

I had blind-folded him and was wondering if I should dress up as a nurse or wear sexy underwear! In the end I decided to wear both I got into a red hot sexy Agent Provocateur underwear. The underwear was a silky laced bra with a thin hearted G-string matched with Victoria Secrets black six inches, stiletto patent shoes with a button nurses uniform on top with my hair tied up into a bun. I led him to the bedroom and had slowly unblind-folded him and asked him to count to ten silently, so it gave me time to turned the lights down and position myself seductively.

Sitting invitingly against the pillows, seducing him looking and feeling extremely naughty, sexy and wanting. I had slowly put my finger against my lips- licking my lips sexually then putting my finger into my mouth slowly teasing him with my tongue seductively. He moved towards me undoing a couple of buttons from my nurses outfit. Slowly kissing my neck and fondling my nipples then slowly taking my uniform off and leaving me with my sexy ‘hot’ red underwear on with his fingers slowly rubbing oil all over my body. He was licking the top of my inner thighs, then suddenly my legs spread-eagle slowly with him kissing my body attentively all over including my black patent Victoria Secret shoes.

I could feel my heart pounding with excitement… With his tongue slivering down my throat with his sexy strong rippling muscling arms, with his thick strong rugby legs wrapped round my body. I had this temptation to be naughty and daring to walk over his body with my six inch stelltoes although it might had been Inappropriate or maybe wrong timing – I felt I could try everything new by seducing, enticing and teasing him, you know, sexual stuff and not wanting to hold back because it felt so right!

Although we tried every position you could possibly imagine. There’s something quite pleasing dressed up in a nurses outfit with sexy red underwear with killers six inches high heels. That feeling of feeling sexy, sensual, sexual, passionately playful and very daring.

We had held each other tightly, kissing and lovingly making love. The feeling was amazing, you know that feeling of sweaty sex, smelling of sex, although everything seems slippery and sliding with wanting to make love forever. Have you had that experience or near experience? When two people are so in tune with each other! Have you ever been in tune? Intimacy, the joy of making love, emotional energy overwhelmed. Unfortunately, we got carried away and somehow we landed on the floor from the poster bed! I had twisted my ankle and the carpet burns were painful, ((agonising) sadly he had hurt his back. Apart from that everything was absolutely earthmoving – I could honestly say the earth did move.

Please note I advise you not to be in tune… With anyone for health and safety reasons!

Dare I say it, but I will, he was so so sexy, naughty and so hot in the …..I leave that thought there.

I would like to thank you for following my blog 5, You would never guess what happened next… Were plates flying? Halfway home in the taxi – did I leave my handbag in the restaurant? … started with a dance…how, why, where and who? Hair was on fire… and I wasn’t trying to be Michael Jackson.

Outburst at the table … Devastated from the break up, brief encounter that started with a dance. Tune into next week you couldn’t write it!..there’s more.

Have you ever had that feeling that you are somewhere and you so don’t want to be there? Well that was me I was so pissed off, in the meantime I had ate my surprise picnic in the lady’s toilet, because I hate wasting food. My partner had ordered a steak and chips in the Spaniards and of course I couldn’t eat although I had eaten. He had no idea I just wanted something simple, no frills just nature in terms of watching birds sing, rabbits chasing rabbits and seeing the beauty of trees. Call me boring, but, I find it sad that people need so much entertaining, and yet the Heath is where you get peace and inner spirit why would you want more, when in fact it’s on your door step.

After we left the pub we ended up at The Washington, then the Steeles in Belsize Park, which was fine, we had drank two or three bottles of red wine between us. At this point I was getting pretty tipsy he then suggested that we go to Islington to meet a couple of friends. I suggested why don’t we call it a night. He told me he would like me to go and I did although reluctantly.We arrived at a trendy bar in Islington and met with a glamorous couple. Things were not that great between us, as the evening went on things escalated. We had a heated moment, I then had lost the plot and I was rude towards the couple although it wasn’t their fault.

I can’t tell you how bad I had felt because they were a nice couple. I just felt remorse because of my behaviour, it’s so embarrassing, At that point I wanted the floor to swallow me up. I walked out of the restaurant and jumped into a black cab. Half way home Irealised I had left my handbag in the restaurant. I had to get the taxi to take me back to the restaurant, I had grabbed my bag in the process of grabbing the table cloth at the same time, (obviously not realising)there were bottles and plates which went flying. That evening ended up very embarrassingly as well as a costly evening.

Well I guess it’s not rocket science, but it’s quite obvious the relationship was over. Although, I was fine (I think) things didn’t work out, as time went by I felt something was missing, I was missing his company if I’d listen or heard a song on the radio of something we used to play, I felt devastated from the break up, it’s been over three months.

I started hanging out with this guy called Shamus , an Irish guy, from St John’s wood . He was great company, we would play music together and have a glass of wine, in fact several glasses of wine and I would fall asleep in his arm chair and sometimes I would hear his foot steps and presumed he was going towards his bedroom.

Tune into next week … You couldn’t write it!..

This guy was slim with dark hair and piecing blue eyes with long eye lashes, extremely good looking, but, unfortunately life wasn’t to good to him, although it could be down to alcohol that had played a big part in his life, he had mentioned in the past that he was an alcoholic. (But without going into details he had a huge lost in his life), but unfortunately from past experience there is no future with an alcoholics. (no matter what)
We got to know each other though mutual friends, and went out a few times together for a few drinks. One day I was walking though St Johns wood’s village with a girlfriend. We bumped into each other and he bought us a coffee and myself a tea. We exchanged numbers and then we arranged to meet up for a drink on several occasions and on many occasions we went back to his place. It started with a dance, we both loved listening to music although I got him to play Blondie, Kim Wild, Michael Jackson and he was good enough to put some of my taste of music although his taste in music was blues and a bit of jazz.

Everything was light hearted and fun. We would dance around his apartment and I would sing along with the songs out of tune. We would laugh all night long and he would mimic me the way I talked and danced. Ha ha… He was so funny and so kind. Although, he was attractive and he tried to kiss me, I was still thinking about my ex boyfriend which was why I said this isn’t going to happen. Before you know it several months go by and we got close. But, not close enough in a sense there was a future because Im still in love with my ex. However, saying that, a chemistry did developed between us. It wasn’t planned it just happened. He had lit candles round the bath, and he would run a bubble scented bath for me. He was so romantic and a fantastic cook. As time went on we had baths together. In a strange way it became a regular thing and I stupidly got addicted to him.

One night Shamus, had run a scented lighted candle bath spread around the bath for me. And I had had a few glasses of champagne. (Champagne doesn’t like me) I got into the bath and fell asleep. But, I woke up and heard this “pop” “crackle” and another “pop” “crack” then bang.
I called out his Shamus name thinking he had called me, but he didn’t. How bizarre I had smelt something funny, something strange- a plastic smell. I could see a reflection off fire above my head from the water. As it turned out my thousand pounds wig was on fire and a melted Asda plastic bag. And, I had gone to the hair dresses earlier on to have a wash and blow dry. Stupidly, I had pause and thought I’ve just had my hair done. Common sense prevailed although it was to late!

Tune  into next week!..

I suggested we did a Sunday roast together, well that became disastrous. He
suggested he needed to be with his family, although he never had a family so he
tells me, in fact he needed to be in a pub before opening hours. (11 o clock
Sunday morning)
This became a regular thing about Sunday stuff, it got to the stage it was
becoming a bit boring and too much work because I wanted him to myself. I got in
touch with a friend and told him how I hated weekends in London, and how London
can be a bit of a drag for a single person. I have always had a thing about weekends, I think weekends are family times and I guess I may have been holding on to that. (Not looking for party’s or a relationship) just company for Sunday roast. On that note I started going to Wiltshire, and staying in Calne with an ex boyfriend from many years ago, called Byron Newmen, who owned an estate overlooking a church yard and a grave yard. He’s a very good friend of mine called Byron Newman a famous photographer who is a legend, he shot for Playboy magazine. He photographed so many interesting people, David Bowie, Tina Turner, Grace Jones, Mick Jagger to name but a few. He’s an amazing guy that you could speak to all night.
Byron, {is very similar to Shamus in terms of nature} and I had gone for long walks and he would name every plant, flower, insect, smells of damp mushrooms and different shades of hay stack. We had talked about politics, religion, relationships, properties, death and everything you could imagine. My friend Byron, is so organic in terms of a great soul. He’s a fantastic cook and his dinner parties were magnificent, in fact to die for. I could honestly say he is one of the few interesting people I’ve met in my life and he’s like me… He doesn’t suffer fools gladly.

If I had to describe Byron Newman, I would say he is slim almost six foot with long mousey hair and very middle class (rock in roll) , very intellectual and extremely well read, he’s a gentleman, charming and ex public school with a mischief about him. Although, he’s in his early sixties – when going out for dinner with him, he turns tables when he makes an entrance. He’s not above his station, very laid back, he sings in a band called “Senior Service” a great performer and does cover bands likes Bob Guldoff , Pink Floyd and other “rock in roll” as well as his own material. I have always held a candle for Byron. I love his Rock in roll look. Back in the days when we were together, it was unusual because I have a thing about rugby legs and preferred meatier guys. (Besides women like bigger guys because it makes them look slimmer) He certainly doesn’t have that… But, he has everything else. Like I said earlier in my blog, he’s a legend and up to this day he always get approached by models/ performers, which why I get the pleasure from his wacky dinner parties. And, People are always asking him to get the guitar out, gosh it’s awesome and I love it especially when he sings.

Tune into next week!..

In the meantime I was missing my ex boyfriend and wondered if he had missed me also. I guess I would never know. I missed his enthusiasm when he talked about us (sometimes) about his work[always], although he was ambitious I really like that, in terms of positive energy. I so missed us taking the piss out of each other, listening and singing along together to the Beatles. Most of all missed his rugby body with his strong thick legs wrapped around me when we slept together sometimes. I didn’t miss his cooking, because he couldn’t fry an egg. But, I missed him so much and being in London and having issues regarding weekends i.e. Sunday roast with Shamus , (although Shamus was a fantastic cook) he made me realise what I had and what I didn’t want, ( sometimes) although Shamus and I, went to a wonderful place called the Orange Tree restaurant in Totteridge and we had took it in turns to buy each other lunch.

I thought it was amazing and I had felt he was almost like a soul mate. I had enjoyed his company although sometimes I found his company too much. I say too much in terms of whilst communicating sometimes he became very wearing because of his jokey manner. Being dyslexic it can take a little longer to understand and absorb words and it has been a struggle for me all my life. Words can be misinterpreted or read wrongly and consequently can change the dynamics of the atmosphere hence if you know me do not invite me to a comedy evening because to you it is pleasure to me its (Dantes inferno) pain. [too much work] Sometimes I found that frustrating and a bit weary. In a nut shell there is only so many jokes one could listen to. Apart from that he seemed a nice guy with a good caring warm soul and I could see how easy it is, for a woman to fall in love with him.

I sensed he was vulnerable sometimes, because when we went out he
tended to attract the weakest link, in terms of ‘link’ if there was a waitress/waiter if the person had confidence he wouldn’t give them the time of day. Maybe I got that wrong, but, that’s how I saw it. (that was so obvious) If the person had a vulnerable thing about them he tended to make light hearted jokes and sometimes I would pray that this jokey period would end, so we could have a meaningful conversation together, and fuck every one else. I guess that’s ,why we clashed sometimes because I can’t do small talks or platitudes of innuendoes about nothing. Small talks are for funerals and I needed brain food in terms of a constructive conversation or a meaningful conversation. (If I couldn’t have a meaningful conversation I’d rather not talk or listen) but, saying that he did make me laugh sometimes although sometimes we had meaningful conversations.

Mind you Shamus may have been right, sometimes I take life too serious, and it’s not the first time I was told that I guess. But, there be a time and I would say… “Hows your day” he would reply… “Just did some great gardening work” and I’d be happy for him he had got some work in and happy in the results because he had a good day. Shamus , sometimes was too kind for his own good. He wants to help the world. “oh he’s in a bad way, and he would have bought someone a pint” well I didn’t say anything, but, as far as I was concerned everybody that he knew was in a bad way! Well apart from normal couples, and a handful of friends. I guess that was his ways of making friends. I felt the people who were “in a bad way” he wanted to help. But, I think maybe I was to strong for him and I started to think…what the fuck is this all about..

In the mean time he would make suggestions we were in a relationship to other people . I had no idea until his friends had told me. In the beginning I wasn’t sure if it was jealousy thing, but one evening in the pub called the Crown, in St Johns wood, I overheard him saying to a couple. “Been single for a few years and I’m with this chick and now in a relationship” I looked and said “really” although the couple didn’t take him serious, Mind you some people did, ( he could be very sly ) (that played a huge put off for me, I had always felt uncomfortable wondering what he’d say next, especially when you wanted a visit to the bathroom i.e. toilet … I was dreading it! If the true was known) My gosh it was awful and less inviting… then there was one bitch who walked her dog into the local pub, who kept questioning our friendship, I used to be polite and now I ignore the bitch. (Not the dog) But, there will come a time I’ll ask her about “oh how is your ex girlfriend” ha because my friend knew her.

She tried to talk to me and I ignored her because she’s a gossip, big mouth cow! Looking back he probably put her up to it like the others. [maybe not her fault) Only that time I felt uncomfortable about it , now I don’t care a fuck. ( they all seem half dead, confused, or sad people) I felt betrayed and disappointed because I really had liked him, I liked him so much and I can’t tell you how much this hurt, But, on the other scale wow someone goes so far, some people would say its a compliment, personally, it’s fuckarees! It’s crap!

Tune into next week!..

I was horrified that he could be so manipulative. As time went on I felt not only uncomfortable I had lost my trust in him. And, yet I had liked him a lot. They say we have egos and I’m sure we all have, and I like to think my ego warrants merits! but, I guess some are bigger than others. It’s such a shame that a dance could start off so beautifully and end up so ugly. Ugly, in terms of not realising how sneaky he was. Its such a shame that this had ruined our friendship because I did like him. Although, I know in my heart that if I continue the friendship I have no respect for myself and I would feel very uneasy about that. He told me he loved me, and I don’t think it’s true. Again, I think he was in love with the idea of being in love again.

I think because we had been out to a lot of places like “Joes” club in Camden and had danced our pants off, maybe he had fallen in love with the idea of being in love again. ( personally I think he was infatuated ) He can’t possibly have fallen in love with me and it just can’t be and it can’t happen, it won’t happen it’s not my writing.

I found this most bizarre that he had mentioned in the past that he doesn’t have friends and he’s a loner, although, when we have been in company together having a drink. He would talk to strangers and even offer them a lift home. I found that bizarre and I knew I had no choice, but to walk away and not do another dance ….. With him. Whilst writing this bit, this had brought tears to my eyes, it started from a dance to that. I made excuses for Shamus because he had a huge loss in his life and I stupidly allowed myself to get close or sucked in.
But, the other side of me says ” it doesn’t warrant how I was treated” and I don’t and I won’t compromise. I’ve come too far to settle for anything less… Friendship or no friendship.

But, I can’t get this guy out of my head and I don’t want to talk to him or see him again, because it’s easier so I’ve decided not to do another dance… With him… I guess not…

Tune into next week…Did I punch the air with excitement at us going to France?… What a fantastic entrance (not) Did he try to set me up? Did Shamus, have an accident… With another? Was I under an illusion?.. How could attractive piercing eyes becomes sunken? France where’s that… What Bill Gates… Was that my last dance … Did I dance again… Tune in and find out… because you couldn’t write it!..
As time went on we had our fights, I think, with Shamus, he may have thought he could control me, in terms of “I care for you, what does the other person do for you” I never said anything, although I felt there was a chemistry and I guess not enough. But, personally I questioned what future we had? I didn’t see long term. I felt suffocated sometimes and that it needed to be questioned. He was too old-fashioned – although he accused me of being fixed. In fact I wasn’t. I just knew exactly what I wanted, he just didn’t hear, I guess it fell on deaf ears… “Oh” that sounds familiar, unfortunately for him.

I wanted more and felt that I wasn’t going to get my life robbed again, in terms of life is too short to settle for second best no matter what. Those guys who had been around had failed to realise, or conveniently forgotten, that they had their life and forget I’m or you are going though what they had They can’t for some reason come to terms with that and that’s too bad. Frankly, I don’t care a fuck! It’s not my problem, I really don’t and I won’t. It’s like a person who had their life many years ahead of you and say “well you don’t need to discover that – i.e. “life” “you don’t need to travel” “you need to laugh”… It releases endorphins (if you had something to laugh about maybe – unless you laugh for the sake of laughing – I suggest you seek a doctor or get help immediately) what are you looking for? But, if you look at the body language and listen to one’s conversation (when they had travelled and experienced themselves) actually what they really mean is – shut the fuck up and don’t have any dreams apart from us. Let me work on you slowly and eventually I’ve got you under lock and fucking key! Well that’s surely going to work with me!.. well done … Next!

One evening I had just finished working for a TV/radio show, I was excited to see him because we had planned to go away. After, the TV/radio show I got a taxi back to my place to pick up my passport, I walked into this pub, in St. John’s wood!.. I was not only humiliated. “Oh Antonia what do you think of this pretty blonde chic”? Actually I thought she was attractive until she had opened her mouth, but, saying that it could be down to alcohol even though I knew she wasn’t my type of person. (Not the type of person I would want in my company, you’ll see later as the story develops) as the evening progressed I had seen Shamus, in a calculated, vindictive drunken state, but he seemed very selective. I say selective because he knew how to play an asshole. He would laugh with everyone and had insisted he’d buy the round of drinks in the meantime he would make awful comments i.e. “drink up Antonia, how long have you got Antonia” everyone’s here for me. ”Antonia those are my friends” Instead of seeing that attractive guy, I saw someone totally different.

I saw someone, tired, angry and frustrated because he couldn’t get his own way. You know that expression “throwing the toys out of the pram” (because he’s middle-aged and not old) he went from gentle eyes to heavy eyelids, piercing eyes became sunken, a very different look and he burped all evening. I actually question If I was under an illusion. What I saw was quite disturbing because he would smile and laugh with everyone, and when he turned his face and had a glance at me… Well his face expression was full of hatred, it was at that point I realised he was defeated because he couldn’t control me. Although I think he buys people’s friendship because he’s lonely (he goes mad if anyone buys him a drink or even a meal) he’s not rich, (but he’s not poor) I guess that’s his way of feeling like Bill Gates! (Metaphorically writing) Or feeling recognition … (hence the show down whilst he’s entering a restaurant) Then again, he is too generous for his own good. I think people try to take advantage of that. In the past I had mentioned it on a number of occasions. I despise people who have no integrity… I’ll cut to the chase. When people take the f….. piss!

As it turned out Shamus, and his woman friend had fallen over him, he fell and hit his head. I think they may have been messing about i.e. dancing or maybe it was genuinely an accident. But, I was glad I had left earlier on, and I guess that’s when I realised we can’t or I won’t be travelling to France. I felt betrayed and disappointed to say the least – it wasn’t a question of a free ticket, I thought it was going to be amazing great company, although I had booked a room at Four Seasons hotel, in the South of France Cannes for myself. Luckily, my friend’s father managed the hotel, and I would have got a special rate. However, it’s neither here nor there because I, for sure, won’t be going. Strange, I had visualised taking great shots of Shamus, because he has great features. His face had told a story… In fact I had planned the (scene) shot in my mind. I had packed my suitcase a week before. . In fact the first thing I packed was my Canon 550 and the lenses I had purchased for the trip. Can you imagine? A few days ago I punched the air with excitement, I know it sounds crazy, I couldn’t help myself. He rang me a few times and I was f… and blinding and I had said some awful things to him out of anger- that I do regret. You couldn’t write the fucking script!

As it had turned out the truth had emerged a couple of days ago, Shamus, had asked his women friend (the one he introduced me to earlier… you know the attractive one until she opened her big mouth… Yes that one) to hit him and she did. Somehow, they fell but Shamus, came out worst for wear… Bruised ribs and had a bump at the back of his head. Apparently, she had apologised profusely. I think it’s fair to say they may have had one too many.

Because of that… This had changed the dynamic of our friendship.

Because of this… I know I deserve better than that and not get stuck into something unhealthy.

Because of now… We are not enemies and I guess it feels right to move on! And not get used to… now!

We have spoken since; he had bought me beautiful flowers and apologies, then a few minutes on the phone he retracted. But, I’m actually fine with that because like I said earlier on, although he has so many good qualities, our friendship could never be the same and because his attitude – had changed the dynamic of our friendship. On that note he was too old-fashioned – in a nice way sometimes. When you are passed 45 years old it’s very hard to change or even compromise!

On that note that was the last dance… (We talk because he’s like a book – a hard one to put down!) Hadn’t looked back since!

Tune into next week!

Where am I?  Did I leave the country? I’m I happy as a pig in shit? Did I say … Yes? Is life bad? Ha ha you tell me!.. Is God watching me? Did I almost drown… I’m a good swimmer… Did a snake bite me and did I wake up in what hospital? Did I have too much Piña Colada or was it too much Rum Punch… But, it tasted sooo good. I would like to say, thank you to all my readers following Blog 5 and supporting my blog. I would like to wish you a good healthy New Year with good spirits, and those who celebrate Christmas – have a good one. Those who will be celebrating Christmas or the New Year or those drinking over this period. Please be careful… Watch your drinks and drink water in between… Don’t be another statistic! Again, thank you for following blog 5 and Happy New Year.

Back on 2nd of January 2015.

Antonia

Before I continue with my journey some good news, my house has finally been completed by recommendation, by a great friend – the area manager called Jarek, from Poland. I would like to say no complaints. I could honestly say I have a home to go home to. However, it took me a long time to declutter. I just wish I had chosen Jarek, instead of going to Steve, who in fact was making a profit out of my misfortune. I was told Steve never does anything for nothing; well he does charity because he mentioned to me in the past he desperately wants a knighthood. (He’s even looked at the criteria of how to receive a knighthood)! I do believe in karma and karma will get him when he’ll least expect it. God, will get that conniving cunt! I guess that’s the past – onwards and upwards. On that note, I’m happy that the house has been completed, because this time last year – I was in a dark place, and right now I’m in a better place.

On a good note let me enlighten you: my partner, you know the on and off one. Yes, that’s the one! He had wowed me off to Barbados and we had stayed at The Crane hotel. It was so romantic and filled with so much love. His company was to die for and the staff were amazing. The hotel was modern but the deco was high standard, air con, walk-in shower, kitchen and washing facilities… Private swimming pool and Jacuzzi and the surroundings beautiful with high walls. I could honestly say I was happy as a pig in shit! Right now I could say life is not too bad. But, despite I’m having the greatest time of my life, I would not take life for granted and thank god I see another day and feel privileged to be here.

One morning, at the hotel, I saw something strange at the corner of my eye. I looked and saw those big eyes. To my surprise it was a monkey and then another one looking through the window. My gosh! They look so cute – I went outside and I desperately wanted to take a picture but unfortunately I managed only one picture. I spent a few days getting up at five o clock in the morning, because I was told where the monkeys hang out. Although, I wasn’t lucky enough to capture that moment. I could see why people like shooting (taking pictures) or filming wild life. It’s not only challenging it’s an amazing feeling and can be so additive.

There’s more tune into next week …

 

I got into the Jacuzzi listening to birds singing, and I could have sworn I had seen a snake! But, I wasn’t sure because I was drinking Rum Punch… Well I guess if you’re drinking Rum Punch, even if it’s a glass or two… Your mind is going to see a lot of things. I tried to jump out of the Jacuzzi quickly and slipped. Well in a split second I think I saw the world go by… I had a panic attach because, I’m sure I had seen a snake; it was in the early evening. I didn’t wake up in hospital, just woke up at the side of the Jacuzzi smiling and looking at… I think the maid- maybe it was too much, too much Piña Colada or was it too much Rum Punch..? But, it tasted so.. So good!
In the meantime my partner had thought I had lost the plot, I don’t blame him. But, no complaints, right now life is treating me well. I saw him differently, so caring, so loving, most of all so relaxed. I wouldn’t say he’s the greatest person for showing his emotions, but I guess that would do, although I felt his love sometimes.

Let me share with you the facilities they have at The Crane Hotel, it’s absolutely amazing, for those who don’t want to travel far, although we almost ventured out to different places as the story unfolds you’ll see, but, first of all I would like to give you a brief history of The Crane.

Crane Beach
“Once you gaze out over the sparkling waters of Crane Beach at the never-ending vista of blues, it becomes obvious why Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous declared Crane Beach “One of the 10 Best Beaches in the World.

For centuries, Crane Beach has been sought by both locals and visitors for its natural beauty and serenity. Pink, powder soft sand graces your feet, a lush coconut grove sways in the tropical breeze and a golden Caribbean sun helps to make this the ultimate paradise – then there is the swimming.

Accessible by a staircase or a glass-front beach elevator (the only one of its kind in the Eastern Caribbean) and protected by a natural coral reef, Crane Beach boasts one of the best swimming venues on the island of Barbados. Besides being safe and having a gentle descent from shallow to deep, it’s also soft on your feet as there are no sea urchins, stones or coral underneath.”

In the next paragraph you will see how everything’s is accessible from restaurants to even a gym. But, I won’t discuss the gym because I didn’t go.

Tune into next week with mouth watering experience!..

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