Madame Z

:(

The grapevine doesn't lie. I guess now I have to answer annoying soul-searching questions about babies. And did I want his babies?? I could do what my friend did and buy two dogs. Yep, that'll do the trick. I don't think I actually even want babies, at least not for a good couple of years...maybe not even then (although I remember my cousin said the same thing about being too selfish and now she has several). So why has this made me so uncomfortable? Maybe because Erin and Mia have been hitting the microdermabrasion creams this week to stave off wrinkles- neither of them need to.

I know that there are some of my friends who would be incredulous that I even care what my ex does. I know that some would be heading straight for the Eurostar with a large stick to beat some sense into me with. But it's ok, there is no need to instigate an emergency rescue operation (Team Sweden, you can put the rescue-horse-costume away)...Operation Oslo made me realise I probably still love him somewhere - but it was pretty clear I was still below pool, blondes and lads on the priority list. Which is fair enough, I know, I'm not his girlfriend any more. Still kind of bites somewhere though. So instead of doing anything stupid, I went and got my hair cut - Erin and I actually are both lovely blondes now.

Anyway, this is all getting a tad bit personal for a blog that 100 people a month now read! (Who ARE you all?? Especially you at the University of Oslo... I now have traffic from Canada to Germany via China and even a mysterious return visitor in Sri Lanka or somewhere. Sweden is on the top of the league table though. I suspect a lot of readers are just Crowded House fans looking for the webcast. It's not here people!!)

Yesterday I was edging towards stupid and wrote a letter that I should have written back in January, but my friend and colleague known as Madame Z physically put it through the office shredder, pranced past my desk and dropped the pieces in front of me saying 'PROOF!', kidnapped my phone (for my own good, apparently) and then proceeded to get me exremely drunk. (She has also kindly offered to lend me 'He's just not that into you', a book which I have actually bought once, had given to me once, and had someone lend to me once. What does THAT say?!) Weirdly, we discovered that our benevolent workplace has drivers who will take you where you need to go at night, which in our case was a nightclub in Shepherd's Bush with copious amounts of reasonably priced wine.

Madame Z is right. I REFUSE to be Duckface from Four Weddings and a Funeral...no hang on, it wasn't Duckface, it was Kristin Scott Thomas. Didn't she end up with Prince Charles in the end of the film? Lord save me...

Jake Gyllenhaal movie tally: 53, with a few Tim Tams thrown in for good measure.