» Cougars and Sugar Daddies

I was working as a waitress in a cocktail bar...
About 3 years ago I started working as a waitress in a bar in Geneva. We had a few regulars, one of whom I got to know really well. He was a "wealthy businessman", but so down to earth that I didn't believe him at first, I thought he was a jobbing builder!

So during his frequent business trips to Geneva, we started hanging out after my bar shift on quite a regular basis. We were never anything more than friends, he was married and 15 years older than me, so the thought of any hanky panky genuinely never never crossed my mind - we just had a good laugh together.

Unfortuantely, I woke up one morning on the day he was flying back to the UK after one of his business trips and found myself counting the HOURS until he got back. "Oh noes!" thinks I, "I appear to have fallen for a married man 15 years my senior who lives in a different country!". I was very pissed off with myself for being such a wally and began wondering how on earth I was going to start "unfancying" him.

Anyway, the tale moves on, and he returns to Geneva a few days later on a late fight. We arrange to meet in a bar and I clock-watch like a loon, wating for him to arrive. He walks in the bar at about 11.30 and his first words are "I missed you, my little friend!". Hmph, I didn't want to be his "little friend"! After a few drinks in the bar, we headed back to his hotel for a few more drinks, a not unusual occurence, but as we drank more and more, we found ourselves closer and closer together until the inevitable happened and we kissed. We spent the night together, and the rest of his trip together too.

On the morning of his departure, we both woke up with a bad feeling and had "the talk" - I had no desire to be someone's bit on the side, and he was tearing himself apart for cheating on his wife. So with a heavy heart, we agreed it was over.

We continued to see each other on his trips over, but despite the obvious chemistry we both behaved impeccably. Until the day he told me he was planning on buying a house in the mountains outside Geneva, and would I like to come and see it with him?

It was the most beautiful house, with stunning views, in a charming alpine village. I was green with envy! We met up again the next day, when he broke the news:

"I've put an offer in on the house. And I'd like you to move in with me, I'm leaving my wife"

BANG! I wasn't expecting that! After getting over my shock and terror that he'd made such a big decision on such a brief affair, I threw myself into his arms and said "yes yes yes!"

We have been living in our beautiful house in our Alpine village with the stunning views for 3 years now, and I have never been happier. I must be the luckiest person on earth and wake up every morning thanking my lucky stars.

Sorry for length, but isn't it nice to have a happy ending?
(Wed 10th Dec 2008, 8:23, More)

» Procrastination

Procrastination can be life threatening!
Maybe TMI, but I have spent my entire adult life procrastinating about having a smear test, cos let's face it, it's pretty embarrassing and undignified.

I finally gave in to the little voice in my head a few weeks ago and had one done. I'm now booked in for surgery later this month to have some of my ladyparts removed :(

Have regular smear tests girls, it can save your life!

[joke about cocks to lighten the atmosphere]
(Mon 17th Nov 2008, 10:20, More)

» Family codes and rituals

The house that blows you up
Following a house move, we switched from taking the bus to getting a lift to and from school in the car. We lived in the country, and between home and primary school we'd pass only one house on the way.

On the way to school, passing this house meant the car blew up, taking me and my bro and sis with it! Fortunately, on the way back home, driving past this house meant you came back together again.

Hence 3 small children squealing "we've just blown up!" every morning on the way to school, and sighing "phew, we've come-back-together-again" on the way back home.

I don't know why the house blew us up. On the rare occasions that I pass this house now, I still mutter about blowing up under my breath. Old habits are hard to break, I suppose!
(Mon 24th Nov 2008, 12:36, More)

» Family codes and rituals

Streetlights
When my siblings and I were travelling in the dark in our parents' trusty 2CV as young children (usually on our way home from piano lessons), we would crouch on the backseat, peering out the rear window and spying at the streetlights...

Orange streetlights were benign, white car headlights were "goodies" and red rear lights (or worse, brake lights!) were "baddies". As we were facing backwards (no seatbelts in them days!), we saw more red lights than white lights, hence the need to crouch behind the backseats just peeping over the top, so the red lights couldn't get us. A purple streetlight (y'know the ones with a violet glow?) was a super-goodie, and cancelled out all the red lights we could see. I think there was a super-baddie too, but I can't remember what that was.

I'm not sure what we were afraid of, but if we were in heavy traffic, surrounded by cars braking, we would cower in the footwells fearing for our lives! What a relief it was when we escaped to the relative safety of the country lanes! (Tho no orange streetlights out in the sticks to watch over us, so it was potentially more dangerous territory...)
(Sun 23rd Nov 2008, 10:22, More)