<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37164851</id><updated>2012-01-31T05:10:12.047Z</updated><category term='sneezy'/><category term='pc'/><category term='hurting'/><category term='sad'/><category term='bitter and twisted'/><category term='tired'/><category term='hotel'/><category term='doctors'/><category term='Israel'/><category term='House'/><category term='insecure'/><category term='resolved'/><category term='Sir'/><category term='study'/><category term='ill'/><category term='History'/><category term='3'/><category term='confused'/><category term='dating'/><category term='self pity'/><category term='relaxed'/><category term='work'/><category term='lust'/><category term='romance'/><category term='Qualities'/><category term='lonely'/><category term='peace'/><category term='Xmas'/><category term='alone again'/><category term='exams'/><category term='Christmas'/><category term='Mum'/><category term='aircraft'/><category term='looking forward'/><category term='humour'/><category term='worried'/><category term='decisions'/><category term='Grumpy'/><category term='angry'/><category term='plumbing'/><category term='diet'/><category term='boring'/><category term='tense'/><category term='500 miles away'/><category term='uni'/><category term='cold'/><category term='baby'/><category term='Dom'/><category term='Dutchman'/><category term='The Happening'/><category term='contemplative'/><category term='busy'/><category term='moving on'/><category term='Easter'/><category term='love'/><category term='content'/><category term='stupid'/><category term='weight'/><category term='Holland'/><category term='productive'/><category term='irony'/><category term='Kiss'/><category term='thoughtful'/><category term='knot'/><category term='coincidence'/><category term='low'/><category term='lifestyle'/><category term='Coffee Man'/><category term='emotions'/><category term='opticians'/><category term='memories'/><category term='poorly'/><category term='excited'/><category term='Hostage'/><category term='unwell'/><category term='stressed'/><category term='nerves'/><category term='Home'/><category term='driving'/><category term='relief'/><category term='reflective'/><category term='amsterdam'/><category term='unsettled'/><category term='calm'/><category term='Purple'/><category term='the American'/><category term='empty'/><category term='madeleine'/><category term='gym'/><category term='frustrated'/><category term='happy'/><category term='E.'/><category term='time'/><category term='life'/><category term='parents'/><category term='miserable'/><category term='task'/><category term='feelings'/><category term='play'/><category term='men'/><category term='Tipsy'/><category term='chilling'/><category term='snow'/><category term='Dreams'/><category term='fat'/><category term='SR'/><category term='optomistic'/><title type='text'>A Day in the Life</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>The Real Bridget Jones</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06632021969926943756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_THtMxFjdEIs/RdMLHMB0y3I/AAAAAAAAABE/k_VhoJIIhwY/s320/cane.bmp'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>252</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37164851.post-4424879968539929004</id><published>2009-09-23T20:02:00.002Z</published><updated>2009-09-23T20:08:36.848Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the American'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sad'/><title type='text'>End of a beautiful summer</title><content type='html'>All good things come to an end, and it was good. Undeniably good.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The time we spent together will remain forever in my heart. But it was not meant to last. Time and distance made it impossible. Our lives are too disparate. Although a 7 hour time difference should not make a difference, His working schedule and mine cut into available time too much. I was unable to cope with the separation. I need His presence.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here, tangible, I need to feel His warmth and His arms. His voice close to my ears. His love in my heart. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So with sadness we have parted, with love and fond memories. I hope He finds His one, He hopes I find mine.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37164851-4424879968539929004?l=bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/feeds/4424879968539929004/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37164851&amp;postID=4424879968539929004' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/4424879968539929004'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/4424879968539929004'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/2009/09/end-of-beautiful-summer.html' title='End of a beautiful summer'/><author><name>The Real Bridget Jones</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06632021969926943756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_THtMxFjdEIs/RdMLHMB0y3I/AAAAAAAAABE/k_VhoJIIhwY/s320/cane.bmp'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37164851.post-1000939699306228093</id><published>2009-07-18T11:33:00.001Z</published><updated>2009-07-18T11:35:30.382Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='weight'/><title type='text'>Weight</title><content type='html'>I hit a really high number on those horrid scales on Monday, and after a grizzle signed up for Weight Watchers. It was weigh in day today and I lost 6lbs!!!! Go me!&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I know that is not sustainable, but it really cheered me up today.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Fingers crossed I can keep it up!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37164851-1000939699306228093?l=bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/feeds/1000939699306228093/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37164851&amp;postID=1000939699306228093' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/1000939699306228093'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/1000939699306228093'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/2009/07/weight.html' title='Weight'/><author><name>The Real Bridget Jones</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06632021969926943756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_THtMxFjdEIs/RdMLHMB0y3I/AAAAAAAAABE/k_VhoJIIhwY/s320/cane.bmp'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37164851.post-7705967117550580520</id><published>2009-06-27T17:36:00.003Z</published><updated>2009-06-27T17:39:50.356Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the American'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='content'/><title type='text'>Slack</title><content type='html'>Yes I know I have been slack but life has been hectic. Work is flat out and horrendous and any spare moment is taken up with the American so am I forgiven?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His visit has only made the feelings more intense, the need to be in contact, the happiness when the phone goes or the computer pings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He is away for the weekend so I have a little time today, I had been working on the garden but then the most huge thunder and lightening storm hit and rendered that impossible so I retreated for a coffee and a catch up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Smiles, life is good,&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37164851-7705967117550580520?l=bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/feeds/7705967117550580520/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37164851&amp;postID=7705967117550580520' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/7705967117550580520'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/7705967117550580520'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/2009/06/slack.html' title='Slack'/><author><name>The Real Bridget Jones</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06632021969926943756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_THtMxFjdEIs/RdMLHMB0y3I/AAAAAAAAABE/k_VhoJIIhwY/s320/cane.bmp'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37164851.post-6057188726836633995</id><published>2009-05-26T09:50:00.002Z</published><updated>2009-05-26T09:56:42.288Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='happy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the American'/><title type='text'>So, tell me again, why was I nervous?</title><content type='html'>Well, He has gone to work today, ostensibly the purpose of His visit - of course with the reliablility of English public transport He had to arrive much earlier than required....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cannot believe that He is due to go home tomorrow, these 5 days are just flying past. We have spent much of the time talking, getting to know each other RT and He is just so much more than I could ever have dreamed of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like I may have known Him a lifetime, perhaps not in this one but the last.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just watching the clock now until He comes home...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37164851-6057188726836633995?l=bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/feeds/6057188726836633995/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37164851&amp;postID=6057188726836633995' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/6057188726836633995'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/6057188726836633995'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/2009/05/so-tell-me-again-why-was-i-nervous.html' title='So, tell me again, why was I nervous?'/><author><name>The Real Bridget Jones</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06632021969926943756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_THtMxFjdEIs/RdMLHMB0y3I/AAAAAAAAABE/k_VhoJIIhwY/s320/cane.bmp'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37164851.post-8034092708837096424</id><published>2009-05-17T15:53:00.002Z</published><updated>2009-05-17T15:58:55.317Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='nerves'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the American'/><title type='text'>Ok, I wasn't nervous...</title><content type='html'>It's Sunday, that means it's nearly next Saturday and the American that I have 'known' for years will become more than just words on a screen and a voice on the phone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He will be here, all 6' of Him. I wasn't at all nervous, but then I read Rosie's post. I have so much to do! Waxing, washing, polishing, tidying, mowing, and that's just the house!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He has booked into a hotel, (safety first Rosie - His idea) and will be here for 5 days, He has some work to do in the City whilst He is here but that will not take long, He added some extra days to a business trip.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am so looking forward to it but likewise, what if He hates me? I can be so darn annoying, I am feeling really chubby and He is tall and slim and oh I don't know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nerves have struck.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37164851-8034092708837096424?l=bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/feeds/8034092708837096424/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37164851&amp;postID=8034092708837096424' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/8034092708837096424'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/8034092708837096424'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/2009/05/ok-i-wasnt-nervous.html' title='Ok, I wasn&apos;t nervous...'/><author><name>The Real Bridget Jones</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06632021969926943756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_THtMxFjdEIs/RdMLHMB0y3I/AAAAAAAAABE/k_VhoJIIhwY/s320/cane.bmp'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37164851.post-102114624707253992</id><published>2009-05-12T17:41:00.004Z</published><updated>2009-05-12T17:58:16.797Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the American'/><title type='text'>Sexy Blogger</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_THtMxFjdEIs/Sgm1Ft9o1uI/AAAAAAAAACw/jkd5ZFL4P0M/s1600-h/SB.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334994343439161058" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_THtMxFjdEIs/Sgm1Ft9o1uI/AAAAAAAAACw/jkd5ZFL4P0M/s320/SB.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Hmmm&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt;, well thank you for my award Rosie...and I've been trying to think for days what I have done to deserve it? ...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;So, 5 reasons huh?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I am the most &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;unsexy&lt;/span&gt; girl I know but here goes.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;1) Apparently my voice can lure a man 5,500 miles, (yes!!!) and I've had clients ring just to talk to me because they love my voice and my laugh?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;2) &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Erm&lt;/span&gt;....My eyes, although naturally &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;greyish&lt;/span&gt;, flash green when aroused and are lovely? (This is so not sexy!) &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;3) My smile is impish and cheeky and holds promise of wild nights?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;4) My deportment is correct and despite being short I can create a 'presence' in a room that has guys rushing to open doors. (Even when they get told off by their wives as they never do it for them..sorry K :0) )&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;5) And lastly, because He has claimed me for His own and He is gorgeous so i must have something right?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;In common with Rupert, everyone i normally read has already completed this, so as i wouldn't get away with sending it to my not quite so open minded and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;BDSM&lt;/span&gt; friendly friends (who don't have a clue, of either this side or that i even blog) I shall pray forgiveness and leave it there.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Counting down the days until the American visits....did I mention that He's coming over? 10 days and counting!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37164851-102114624707253992?l=bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/feeds/102114624707253992/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37164851&amp;postID=102114624707253992' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/102114624707253992'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/102114624707253992'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/2009/05/hmmm-ok-well-thank-you-for-my-award.html' title='Sexy Blogger'/><author><name>The Real Bridget Jones</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06632021969926943756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_THtMxFjdEIs/RdMLHMB0y3I/AAAAAAAAABE/k_VhoJIIhwY/s320/cane.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_THtMxFjdEIs/Sgm1Ft9o1uI/AAAAAAAAACw/jkd5ZFL4P0M/s72-c/SB.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37164851.post-1144231005424873565</id><published>2009-05-05T18:42:00.002Z</published><updated>2009-05-05T18:49:15.787Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='happy'/><title type='text'>Unnaturally happy</title><content type='html'>Well, things are going marvellously. We are getting to know each other, likes and dislikes, hopes and fears, there is even a tentative discussion of a trip across the pond....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am waiting for the bubble to burst and praying it doesn't. When He sends me off to bed at night i positively skip upstairs safe in the knowledge that He is caring for me and there for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He leaves little messages through His day for me to find on a morning, just to let me know i am in His thoughts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am finding the time difference hard, i am not accustomed to having to count hours to work out whether He is awake or asleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, i am gloriously happy!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37164851-1144231005424873565?l=bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/feeds/1144231005424873565/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37164851&amp;postID=1144231005424873565' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/1144231005424873565'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/1144231005424873565'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/2009/05/unnaturally-happy.html' title='Unnaturally happy'/><author><name>The Real Bridget Jones</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06632021969926943756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_THtMxFjdEIs/RdMLHMB0y3I/AAAAAAAAABE/k_VhoJIIhwY/s320/cane.bmp'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37164851.post-2793988377850538548</id><published>2009-04-18T18:18:00.003Z</published><updated>2009-04-18T18:23:18.168Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the American'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='task'/><title type='text'>Hotels and Internet Connections</title><content type='html'>So, here we are, in a long distance relationship with a fabulous American. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Hmm&lt;/span&gt;, is that what I shall call Him? The American...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He works in a similar manner to me, lives His life on the road and travels from hotel to hotel. This week saw the first interactions with both of us in hotels. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Aaaaargh&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If it wasn't my connection dropping out it was His. How frustrating was that, we did get some unexpected time together today though. He has set me a task, I am to write a story for Him for His return. So, where do I start...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Answers on a postcard please!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37164851-2793988377850538548?l=bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/feeds/2793988377850538548/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37164851&amp;postID=2793988377850538548' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/2793988377850538548'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/2793988377850538548'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/2009/04/hotels-and-internet-connections.html' title='Hotels and Internet Connections'/><author><name>The Real Bridget Jones</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06632021969926943756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_THtMxFjdEIs/RdMLHMB0y3I/AAAAAAAAABE/k_VhoJIIhwY/s320/cane.bmp'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37164851.post-505476220691997344</id><published>2009-04-13T16:32:00.008Z</published><updated>2009-04-13T17:23:18.220Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='happy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='confused'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='3'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='500 miles away'/><title type='text'>Long distance relationships?</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;No, no way not me.... never....with a long distance Dom?? No!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt;, so how many times have I said to myself that I could never do an  online relationship? I have seen friends struggle, some succeed, some fail.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have chatted with this Dom for years now, one of the first I spoke to when researching what was going on in my life and what these feelings were. He is an honest, funny, intelligent man. He has seen me go through peaks and troughs and always been there. And He is 3,500 miles away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recently, we started talking away from others, and it just clicked. We talked about my recent attempts at vanilla relationships and He just smiled and waited for me to come to the conclusion that He knew all along.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have discussed visits, this will be difficult on both sides. But.....oh, this is mad. He is 3,500 miles away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are so many things, ideas, opinions and such like that we have in common, however there are 3,500 miles between us...damn damn damn damn damn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He makes me laugh, I look forward to getting home from work to see a message or two from Him. He looks forward to mine too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But He is 3,500 miles away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have I mentioned He is 3,500 miles away!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What on earth am I doing?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37164851-505476220691997344?l=bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/feeds/505476220691997344/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37164851&amp;postID=505476220691997344' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/505476220691997344'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/505476220691997344'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/2009/04/long-distance-relationships.html' title='Long distance relationships?'/><author><name>The Real Bridget Jones</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06632021969926943756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_THtMxFjdEIs/RdMLHMB0y3I/AAAAAAAAABE/k_VhoJIIhwY/s320/cane.bmp'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37164851.post-5886898686153969045</id><published>2009-01-19T17:30:00.001Z</published><updated>2009-01-19T17:32:39.953Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dating'/><title type='text'>the date...</title><content type='html'>Well, he was intelligent, funny and a perfect gentleman. Very good company indeed....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but....no sparks, no violins....sighs&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But at least he will make a very good friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still searching...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37164851-5886898686153969045?l=bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/feeds/5886898686153969045/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37164851&amp;postID=5886898686153969045' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/5886898686153969045'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/5886898686153969045'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/2009/01/date.html' title='the date...'/><author><name>The Real Bridget Jones</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06632021969926943756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_THtMxFjdEIs/RdMLHMB0y3I/AAAAAAAAABE/k_VhoJIIhwY/s320/cane.bmp'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37164851.post-3716749137764518584</id><published>2009-01-18T16:59:00.002Z</published><updated>2009-01-18T17:03:25.952Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dating'/><title type='text'>Here we go again....wish me luck</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt;, let's get back on the horse, I'm going on a date tonight. We've been &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;texting&lt;/span&gt; and talking on the phone for a week, he seems to have the same sense of humour as me. He's local. Good job, well educated (I really missed that with the last one - no verbal sparring or discussions on the big things in the world) and................younger than me....and a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;tri&lt;/span&gt;-athlete. Oh shit! So, what is he going to see in the older woman with more than a few spare pounds on her?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah well, nothing ventured nothing gained!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If nothing else we can hold a good conversation.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37164851-3716749137764518584?l=bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/feeds/3716749137764518584/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37164851&amp;postID=3716749137764518584' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/3716749137764518584'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/3716749137764518584'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/2009/01/here-we-go-againwish-me-luck.html' title='Here we go again....wish me luck'/><author><name>The Real Bridget Jones</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06632021969926943756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_THtMxFjdEIs/RdMLHMB0y3I/AAAAAAAAABE/k_VhoJIIhwY/s320/cane.bmp'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37164851.post-8355613504018663041</id><published>2009-01-12T18:49:00.002Z</published><updated>2009-01-12T18:58:11.318Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='angry'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bitter and twisted'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='SR'/><title type='text'>Mixed emotions</title><content type='html'>I saw some photos today of SR. The witch was also in the photos. She looked as chubby and (especially as they were at a party) looked as if no effort at all had been made. And no that's not me being bitchy. My hair assumes both a life and a personality of its own, yet if I am out with my man at a party it is tamed into submission. (Deliberate choice of words!) He has grown a double chin and a paunch too. He looked happy enough but even in photos where they were together he wasn't looking at her.&lt;br /&gt;Am I just reading into these pics what I want to see? Probably....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know, people are in your past for a reason, there is a damned good set of reasons he didn't make it into my future. When I am being logical, he has anger management issues and can be violent (uncontrolled anger is not good in a Dom) he was selfish. He cheated. He made his kids lie to me. (I am still great friends with one of them) My family hated him. He ruined my mother's birthday party that my sister held for her. He insulted their guests. So, why the hell do I still think of him?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am so very cross with myself!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37164851-8355613504018663041?l=bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/feeds/8355613504018663041/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37164851&amp;postID=8355613504018663041' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/8355613504018663041'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/8355613504018663041'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/2009/01/mixed-emotions.html' title='Mixed emotions'/><author><name>The Real Bridget Jones</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06632021969926943756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_THtMxFjdEIs/RdMLHMB0y3I/AAAAAAAAABE/k_VhoJIIhwY/s320/cane.bmp'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37164851.post-3031743346614127941</id><published>2009-01-07T18:39:00.004Z</published><updated>2009-01-07T18:47:25.997Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Israel'/><title type='text'>Making sense of the non-sensical</title><content type='html'>Maybe i am &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;naive&lt;/span&gt;, but how many more innocents have to die? Each day from the comfort of our safe lives we hear of slaughter and destruction, deaths of children by fire and shell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This piece from the Guardian describes the situation well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/2009/jan/07/gaza-israel-palestine"&gt;http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/2009/jan/07/gaza-israel-palestine&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So it is outside of our &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.cracked.com/article_14990_what-monkeysphere.html"&gt;monkey sphere&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt; but even so how can we let it go on?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37164851-3031743346614127941?l=bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/2009/jan/07/gaza-israel-palestine' title='Making sense of the non-sensical'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/feeds/3031743346614127941/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37164851&amp;postID=3031743346614127941' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/3031743346614127941'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/3031743346614127941'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/2009/01/making-sense-of-non-sensical.html' title='Making sense of the non-sensical'/><author><name>The Real Bridget Jones</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06632021969926943756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_THtMxFjdEIs/RdMLHMB0y3I/AAAAAAAAABE/k_VhoJIIhwY/s320/cane.bmp'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37164851.post-8707655445327105907</id><published>2008-12-24T17:04:00.001Z</published><updated>2008-12-24T17:04:39.251Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Christmas'/><title type='text'>Merry Christmas</title><content type='html'>Merry Christmas to one and all!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37164851-8707655445327105907?l=bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/feeds/8707655445327105907/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37164851&amp;postID=8707655445327105907' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/8707655445327105907'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/8707655445327105907'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/2008/12/merry-christmas.html' title='Merry Christmas'/><author><name>The Real Bridget Jones</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06632021969926943756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_THtMxFjdEIs/RdMLHMB0y3I/AAAAAAAAABE/k_VhoJIIhwY/s320/cane.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37164851.post-4485188645912023053</id><published>2008-12-15T19:05:00.002Z</published><updated>2008-12-15T19:13:18.251Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='men'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Xmas'/><title type='text'>A Christmas Wish</title><content type='html'>Now, obviously, world peace and an end to all suffering is top of the real list but I thought I would compile a just for fun list to aid my shattered love life...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Santa,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please may I have a man to appreciate my stockings, can he be:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tall&lt;br /&gt;Blond&lt;br /&gt;Have a quirky smile&lt;br /&gt;A big nose - I don't know I just do!!!&lt;br /&gt;Be rugged&lt;br /&gt;Be assertive&lt;br /&gt;Be over 35....&lt;br /&gt;Be under 60...&lt;br /&gt;Be genuine&lt;br /&gt;Be honest&lt;br /&gt;Be able to be taken home to my parents&lt;br /&gt;Be interesting&lt;br /&gt;Have lived a life&lt;br /&gt;Have no baggage!&lt;br /&gt;Have the capacity to love and be loved&lt;br /&gt;Be tender&lt;br /&gt;Be accepting of my life&lt;br /&gt;Be caring&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have I missed anything?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Hmm&lt;/span&gt;, I don't think he exists, maybe I should keep believing in Santa....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37164851-4485188645912023053?l=bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/feeds/4485188645912023053/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37164851&amp;postID=4485188645912023053' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/4485188645912023053'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/4485188645912023053'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/2008/12/christmas-wish.html' title='A Christmas Wish'/><author><name>The Real Bridget Jones</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06632021969926943756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_THtMxFjdEIs/RdMLHMB0y3I/AAAAAAAAABE/k_VhoJIIhwY/s320/cane.bmp'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37164851.post-552920607776054491</id><published>2008-12-07T13:24:00.004Z</published><updated>2008-12-07T13:32:31.635Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='alone again'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sad'/><title type='text'>Another one bites the dust....wanted a real man!</title><content type='html'>We went away for the weekend, I was home by midday Sunday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't deal with a man who can't even decide whether he wants tea or coffee without me choosing. For the whole weekend I have asked 'what would you like to do?' The weekend was supposed to be a treat for his birthday. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Every time&lt;/span&gt; I asked he said ' I don't know' what do you think?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took him away to a beautiful part of the country, it's near the sea, near an area of outstanding natural beauty, near a bustling city, near an old medieval city, so many choices, galleries, theatres, museums, wildlife, zoos, country walks, river walks, and yet he still said...it's a bit limited.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is there no such thing as real men any more? Are they so emasculated that they cannot just be anymore?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sighs sadly..........&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37164851-552920607776054491?l=bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/feeds/552920607776054491/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37164851&amp;postID=552920607776054491' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/552920607776054491'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/552920607776054491'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/2008/12/another-one-bites-dustwanted-real-man.html' title='Another one bites the dust....wanted a real man!'/><author><name>The Real Bridget Jones</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06632021969926943756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_THtMxFjdEIs/RdMLHMB0y3I/AAAAAAAAABE/k_VhoJIIhwY/s320/cane.bmp'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37164851.post-5720553715637813432</id><published>2008-11-09T17:03:00.002Z</published><updated>2008-11-09T17:04:08.233Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poorly'/><title type='text'>Snuffle!</title><content type='html'>And now I have a cold! Grump!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37164851-5720553715637813432?l=bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/feeds/5720553715637813432/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37164851&amp;postID=5720553715637813432' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/5720553715637813432'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/5720553715637813432'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/2008/11/snuffle.html' title='Snuffle!'/><author><name>The Real Bridget Jones</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06632021969926943756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_THtMxFjdEIs/RdMLHMB0y3I/AAAAAAAAABE/k_VhoJIIhwY/s320/cane.bmp'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37164851.post-1897120573214473552</id><published>2008-11-07T19:24:00.003Z</published><updated>2008-11-07T19:37:47.682Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='thoughtful'/><title type='text'>Emotionally retarded</title><content type='html'>I was listening to this song on the radio today, it's an old one I've known all my life, and it served to remind me how emotionally retarded I am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm still dating but can feel myself pulling back, finding reasons to bolt, running scared&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If You Could Read My Mind&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you could read my mind love&lt;br /&gt;What a tale my thoughts could tell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just like an old time movie'&lt;br /&gt;Bout a ghost from a wishing well.&lt;br /&gt;In a castle dark or a fortress strong&lt;br /&gt;With chains upon my feet.&lt;br /&gt;You know that ghost is me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I will never be set free&lt;br /&gt;As long as I'm a ghost that you can't see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I could read your &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;mind love&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What a tale your thoughts could tell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just like a paper back novel&lt;br /&gt;The kind the drugstores sell.&lt;br /&gt;Then you reached the part&lt;br /&gt;Where the heartaches come&lt;br /&gt;The hero would be me.&lt;br /&gt;But &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;heros&lt;/span&gt; often fail&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And you won't read that book again&lt;br /&gt;Because the ending 's just too hard to take!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd walk away like a movie star&lt;br /&gt;Who gets burned in a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;three way&lt;/span&gt; script.&lt;br /&gt;Enter number two:&lt;br /&gt;A movie queen to play the scene&lt;br /&gt;Of bringing all the good things out of me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;now love&lt;/span&gt; let's be real;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never thought I could feel this way&lt;br /&gt;And I've got to say that I just don't get it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know where we went wrong&lt;br /&gt;But the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;feelin's&lt;/span&gt; gone&lt;br /&gt;And I just can't get it back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you could read my mind love&lt;br /&gt;What a tale my thoughts could tell.&lt;br /&gt;Just like an old time movie&lt;br /&gt;'Bout a ghost from a wishing well.&lt;br /&gt;In a castle dark or a fortress strong&lt;br /&gt;With chains upon my feet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But stories always end&lt;br /&gt;And if you read between the lines&lt;br /&gt;You'd know that I'm just&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Tryin&lt;/span&gt;' to understand the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;feelin's&lt;/span&gt; that you (&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;I)&lt;/span&gt; lack.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never thought I could feel this way&lt;br /&gt;And I've got to say that I just don't get it.&lt;br /&gt;I don't know where we went wrong&lt;br /&gt;But the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;feelin's&lt;/span&gt; gone&lt;br /&gt;And I just can't get it back!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37164851-1897120573214473552?l=bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/feeds/1897120573214473552/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37164851&amp;postID=1897120573214473552' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/1897120573214473552'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/1897120573214473552'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/2008/11/emotionally-retarded.html' title='Emotionally retarded'/><author><name>The Real Bridget Jones</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06632021969926943756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_THtMxFjdEIs/RdMLHMB0y3I/AAAAAAAAABE/k_VhoJIIhwY/s320/cane.bmp'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37164851.post-8266689479640209107</id><published>2008-10-11T10:24:00.002Z</published><updated>2008-10-11T10:29:57.386Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='exams'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relief'/><title type='text'>Freedom</title><content type='html'>Well, at last the exams are over, so providing I passed that's it. I just have to wait for the results now in 10 weeks time. How can it take so long to mark? I know that there were 14 sides of handwritten A4 (my hand hurts!) but even so, that's like 1 and a quarter a week (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;ish&lt;/span&gt;)!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, apart from the dissertation which I will try and do as much at work as I can, my free time is now just that....&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;freeeeeeeeeeeeee&lt;/span&gt;! Yippee!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things are going well on the dating front too, we are going away for a few days next week so wish me luck!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right, time to do the housework, so much for free time eh?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37164851-8266689479640209107?l=bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/feeds/8266689479640209107/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37164851&amp;postID=8266689479640209107' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/8266689479640209107'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/8266689479640209107'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/2008/10/freedom.html' title='Freedom'/><author><name>The Real Bridget Jones</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06632021969926943756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_THtMxFjdEIs/RdMLHMB0y3I/AAAAAAAAABE/k_VhoJIIhwY/s320/cane.bmp'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37164851.post-7600024213466135232</id><published>2008-09-28T11:15:00.002Z</published><updated>2008-09-28T11:18:28.306Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='happy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dating'/><title type='text'>Saturday night!</title><content type='html'>Well, owing to a change of plans, number 5 was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;preceded&lt;/span&gt; by number 4.5. This lasted all night after an innocent invitation to 'coffee' after he walked me home....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He makes me smile, he has a twinkle in his eye and doesn't give a jot about the lumpy bits that wobble. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time for a gallon of coffee and some revision!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37164851-7600024213466135232?l=bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/feeds/7600024213466135232/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37164851&amp;postID=7600024213466135232' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/7600024213466135232'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/7600024213466135232'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/2008/09/saturday-night.html' title='Saturday night!'/><author><name>The Real Bridget Jones</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06632021969926943756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_THtMxFjdEIs/RdMLHMB0y3I/AAAAAAAAABE/k_VhoJIIhwY/s320/cane.bmp'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37164851.post-9192456756268247817</id><published>2008-09-25T21:36:00.002Z</published><updated>2008-09-25T21:41:15.754Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dating'/><title type='text'>Number 5</title><content type='html'>Still going strong...... Roll on Monday&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37164851-9192456756268247817?l=bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/feeds/9192456756268247817/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37164851&amp;postID=9192456756268247817' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/9192456756268247817'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/9192456756268247817'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/2008/09/number-5.html' title='Number 5'/><author><name>The Real Bridget Jones</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06632021969926943756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_THtMxFjdEIs/RdMLHMB0y3I/AAAAAAAAABE/k_VhoJIIhwY/s320/cane.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37164851.post-8080883675724404593</id><published>2008-09-23T22:13:00.003Z</published><updated>2008-09-23T22:21:53.700Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='happy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tired'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='lust'/><title type='text'>First flush of lust....</title><content type='html'>What's that song..."I could have danced all night, ....." well, date number three went really rather well, I think I need a fourth though just to check....have to make that Thursday.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could have danced all night&lt;br /&gt;I could have danced all night&lt;br /&gt;And still have begged for more&lt;br /&gt;I could have spread my wings&lt;br /&gt;And done a thousand things&lt;br /&gt;I'd never ever done before&lt;br /&gt;I'll never know what made it so exciting&lt;br /&gt;But all at once my heart took flight&lt;br /&gt;I only know when he began to dance with me&lt;br /&gt;I could have danced, danced, danced, danced, danced, danced&lt;br /&gt;Bed? I couldn't go to bed&lt;br /&gt;My head's too light to try to settle down&lt;br /&gt;Sleep? I couldn't sleep tonight&lt;br /&gt;Not for all the jewels in the crown!&lt;br /&gt;I'll never know what made it so exciting&lt;br /&gt;But all at once my heart took flight&lt;br /&gt;I only know when he began to dance with me&lt;br /&gt;I could have danced, danced, danced, danced all night&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt; I know, it's lust and it will fade but it's great whilst it lasts, reality will kick in soon enough!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37164851-8080883675724404593?l=bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/feeds/8080883675724404593/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37164851&amp;postID=8080883675724404593' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/8080883675724404593'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/8080883675724404593'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/2008/09/first-flush-of-lust.html' title='First flush of lust....'/><author><name>The Real Bridget Jones</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06632021969926943756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_THtMxFjdEIs/RdMLHMB0y3I/AAAAAAAAABE/k_VhoJIIhwY/s320/cane.bmp'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37164851.post-4059031769231697425</id><published>2008-09-16T21:09:00.002Z</published><updated>2008-09-16T21:18:46.933Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dating'/><title type='text'>A date!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Ooooh&lt;/span&gt; a potential hopeful one! It's late and I'm heading to bed but suffice it to say part 2 is Friday night! He has already text me to say he had a good evening and he is looking forward to Friday!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Watch this space!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37164851-4059031769231697425?l=bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/feeds/4059031769231697425/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37164851&amp;postID=4059031769231697425' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/4059031769231697425'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/4059031769231697425'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/2008/09/date.html' title='A date!'/><author><name>The Real Bridget Jones</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06632021969926943756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_THtMxFjdEIs/RdMLHMB0y3I/AAAAAAAAABE/k_VhoJIIhwY/s320/cane.bmp'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37164851.post-6722727590624611213</id><published>2008-09-12T18:02:00.001Z</published><updated>2008-09-12T18:04:33.793Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Grumpy'/><title type='text'>Operation Stack!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I hate it I hate it I hate it!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Why is it that when I have been working away, I'm tired and grouchy and just want to get back to the convent, something happens to make Operation Stack be put in place so I can't get back?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Grumps off t make a cup of tea.....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37164851-6722727590624611213?l=bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/feeds/6722727590624611213/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37164851&amp;postID=6722727590624611213' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/6722727590624611213'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/6722727590624611213'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/2008/09/operation-stack.html' title='Operation Stack!'/><author><name>The Real Bridget Jones</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06632021969926943756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_THtMxFjdEIs/RdMLHMB0y3I/AAAAAAAAABE/k_VhoJIIhwY/s320/cane.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37164851.post-2031486887103863687</id><published>2008-08-07T18:15:00.002Z</published><updated>2008-08-07T18:21:23.950Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dating'/><title type='text'>So what are the entry requirements for entering a convent?</title><content type='html'>Well the hunk of love that was advertised and who had e-mailed me was actually Mr Bean, with a clammy handshake and a good line in running tales....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Never has 45 minutes seemed so long!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was older than his picture, in fact I'm not even sure the picture was him...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He wouldn't decide if he wanted coffee or a cold drink until I chose, nor would he decide where to sit until I did..... every opinion I had he agreed with....even when I started espousing some really odd ideas just to see if he agreed.....he did!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So nope....not the love of my life?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37164851-2031486887103863687?l=bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/feeds/2031486887103863687/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37164851&amp;postID=2031486887103863687' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/2031486887103863687'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/2031486887103863687'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/2008/08/so-what-are-entry-requirements-for.html' title='So what are the entry requirements for entering a convent?'/><author><name>The Real Bridget Jones</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06632021969926943756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_THtMxFjdEIs/RdMLHMB0y3I/AAAAAAAAABE/k_VhoJIIhwY/s320/cane.bmp'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37164851.post-5493445060136227985</id><published>2008-08-06T18:09:00.004Z</published><updated>2008-08-06T18:24:18.177Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dating'/><title type='text'>Friends....? Who'd have them?</title><content type='html'>For my birthday, a couple of friend from college decided to set me up on an &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;internet&lt;/span&gt; dating site.The type where they as 'friends' try to sell you by listing all your good points! I've only just got the courage to tell all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been out on 3 'dates' so far.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;1) was a smoker, pretending he wasn't, arrogant, chauvinistic, and a total bore&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;2) was quite nice but a bit of a chav...(urbandictionary.com has a good description) I got told off for turning this one down as he is rich, good looking, got a great job, car the works, but he was a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;chav&lt;/span&gt; and I am a snob!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;3) likes cats, I know I like cats but they are not my sole conversation piece. He was definitely the type that you would open a cupboard door and expect to see his mother who had passed away 5 years previously perfectly preserved. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;So it has been a busy couple of weeks. Date number 4 is tomorrow. Watch this space, I shall try to keep you up to speed. I am not expecting to meet the man of my dreams, after all the lifestyle I prefer is not exactly common, but in this sleepy part of the world the chances of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;SuperDom&lt;/span&gt; walking into my life are &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;decidedly&lt;/span&gt; slim.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Just for information, tomorrow's is an accountant, non-smoker, no kids, claims to be good looking! Let's see what turns up!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37164851-5493445060136227985?l=bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/feeds/5493445060136227985/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37164851&amp;postID=5493445060136227985' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/5493445060136227985'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/5493445060136227985'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/2008/08/friends-whod-have-them.html' title='Friends....? Who&apos;d have them?'/><author><name>The Real Bridget Jones</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06632021969926943756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_THtMxFjdEIs/RdMLHMB0y3I/AAAAAAAAABE/k_VhoJIIhwY/s320/cane.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37164851.post-172620693892828760</id><published>2008-07-20T19:34:00.004Z</published><updated>2008-07-20T21:24:14.028Z</updated><title type='text'>Books...the post script</title><content type='html'>I forgot to mention...why so much Dickens on the list and Thomas Hardy, boy did I hate having to read them at school, what were they trying to do, prevent us all from picking up literature as an adult?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37164851-172620693892828760?l=bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/feeds/172620693892828760/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37164851&amp;postID=172620693892828760' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/172620693892828760'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/172620693892828760'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/2008/07/booksthe-post-script.html' title='Books...the post script'/><author><name>The Real Bridget Jones</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06632021969926943756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_THtMxFjdEIs/RdMLHMB0y3I/AAAAAAAAABE/k_VhoJIIhwY/s320/cane.bmp'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37164851.post-689311000246711072</id><published>2008-07-17T18:27:00.002Z</published><updated>2008-07-17T18:38:57.856Z</updated><title type='text'>Secondary Pinching!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://ejksslave.blogspot.com/2008/07/pinched-from-this-girl.html"&gt;Pinched from "This girl"&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Someone” reckons that the average adult has only read 6 of the top 100 books they’ve printed. It’s not the Big Read though — they don’t publish books, and they’ve only featured these books so far.&lt;br /&gt;In any event . . .1) Look at the list and bold those you have read.2) Italicize those you started but did not finish.3) Underline the books you LOVE.4) Reprint this list in your own blog so we can try and track down these people who’ve read 6 or less and force books upon them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. The Time Traveller’s Wife - Audrey Niffenegger&lt;br /&gt;2. The Hitch Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy - Douglas Adams&lt;br /&gt;3. The Handmaid’s Tale - Margaret Atwood&lt;br /&gt;4. Lord of the Flies - William Golding&lt;br /&gt;5. Life of Pi - Yann Martel&lt;br /&gt;6. The Secret Garden - Frances Hodgson Burnett&lt;br /&gt;7. The Color Purple - Alice Walker&lt;br /&gt;8. Adventures of Sherlock Holmes - Sir Arthur Conan Doyle&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;9. Jane Eyre - Charlotte Bronte&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. To Kill a Mockingbird - Harper Lee&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;11. Wuthering Heights - Emily Bronte&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. Nineteen Eighty Four - George Orwell&lt;br /&gt;13. His Dark Materials (trilogy) - Philip Pullman&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;14. Great Expectations - Charles Dickens&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15. Catch 22 - Joseph Heller&lt;br /&gt;16. The Hobbit - J.R.R. Tolkien&lt;br /&gt;17. Catcher in the Rye - J.D. Salinger&lt;br /&gt;18. Brideshead Revisited - Evelyn Waugh&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;19. Crime and Punishment - Fyodor Dostoyevsky&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;20. Alice in Wonderland - Lewis Carroll&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;21. Chronicles of Narnia - C.S. Lewis&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;22. The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe – C.S. Lewis&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;23. Winnie the Pooh - A.A. Milne&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;24. Animal Farm - George Orwell&lt;br /&gt;25. Brave New World - Aldous Huxley&lt;br /&gt;26. Of Mice and Men - John Steinbeck&lt;br /&gt;27. On The Road - Jack Kerouac&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;28. Oliver Twist - Charles Dickens&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;29. Charlotte’s Web - E.B. White&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;30. Hamlet - William Shakespeare&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;31. Charlie and the Chocolate Factory - Roald Dahl&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;32. Complete Works of Shakespeare&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;33. Ulysses - James Joyce&lt;br /&gt;34. Heart of Darkness - Joseph Conrad&lt;br /&gt;35. Les Miserables - Victor Hugo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;36. Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;37. The Bible&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;38. The Great Gatsby - F. Scott Fitzgerald&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;39. War and Peace - Leo Tolstoy&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;40. Grapes of Wrath - John Steinbeck&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;41. Anna Karenina - Leo Tolstoy&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;42. The Kite Runner - Khaled Hosseini&lt;br /&gt;43. One Hundred Years of Solitude - Gabriel Garcia Marquez&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;44. Sense and Sensibility - Jane Austen&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;45. The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time - Mark Haddon&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;46. Lolita - Vladimir Nabokov&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;47. The Little Prince - Antoine De Saint-Exupery&lt;br /&gt;48. A Confederacy of Dunces - John Kennedy Toole&lt;br /&gt;49. The Lord of the Rings - JRR Tolkien&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;50. Harry Potter series - JK Rowling&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;51. Little Women - Louisa M. Alcott&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;52. Tess of the D’Urbervilles - Thomas Hardy&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;53. Rebecca - Daphne Du Maurier&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;54. Birdsong - Sebastian Faulks&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;55. Middlemarch - George Eliot&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;56. Gone With The Wind - Margaret Mitchell&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;57. Bleak House - Charles Dickens&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;58. The Wind in the Willows - Kenneth Grahame&lt;br /&gt;59. David Copperfield - Charles Dickens&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;strong&gt;60. Emma - Jane Austen&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;strong&gt;61. Persuasion - Jane Austen&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;62. Captain Corelli’s Mandolin - Louis De Bernieres&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;63. Memoirs of a Geisha - Arthur Golden&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;64. The Da Vinci Code - Dan Brown&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;65. A Prayer for Owen Meaney - John Irving&lt;br /&gt;66. The Woman in White - Wilkie Collins&lt;br /&gt;67. Anne of Green Gables – L.M. Montgomery&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;68. Far From The Madding Crowd - Thomas Hardy&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;69. Atonement - Ian McEwan&lt;br /&gt;70. Dune - Frank Herbert&lt;br /&gt;71. Cold Comfort Farm - Stella Gibbons&lt;br /&gt;72. A Suitable Boy - Vikram Seth&lt;br /&gt;73. The Shadow of the Wind - Carlos Ruiz Zafon&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;74. A Tale Of Two Cities - Charles Dickens&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;75. Love In The Time Of Cholera - Gabriel Garcia Marquez&lt;br /&gt;76. The Secret History - Donna Tartt&lt;br /&gt;77. The Lovely Bones - Alice Sebold&lt;br /&gt;78. Count of Monte Cristo - Alexandre Dumas&lt;br /&gt;79. Jude the Obscure - Thomas Hardy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;80. Bridget Jones’ Diary - Helen Fielding&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;81. Midnight’s Children - Salman Rushdie&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;82. Moby Dick - Herman Melville&lt;br /&gt;83. Dracula - Bram Stoker&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;84. Notes From A Small Island - Bill Bryson&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;85. The Bell Jar - Sylvia Plath&lt;br /&gt;86. Swallows and Amazons - Arthur Ransome&lt;br /&gt;87. Germinal - Emile Zola&lt;br /&gt;88. Vanity Fair - William Makepeace Thackeray&lt;br /&gt;89. Possession - A.S. Byatt&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;90. A Christmas Carol - Charles Dickens&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;91. Cloud Atlas - David Mitchell&lt;br /&gt;92. The Remains of the Day - Kazuo Ishiguro&lt;br /&gt;93. Madame Bovary - Gustave Flaubert&lt;br /&gt;94. A Fine Balance - Rohinton Mistry&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;95. The Five People You Meet In Heaven - Mitch Albom&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;96. The Faraway Tree Collection - Enid Blyton&lt;br /&gt;97. The Wasp Factory - Iain Banks&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;98. Watership Down – Richard Adams&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;99. A Town Like Alice - Nevil Shute&lt;br /&gt;100. The Three Musketeers - Alexandre Dumas&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37164851-689311000246711072?l=bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/feeds/689311000246711072/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37164851&amp;postID=689311000246711072' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/689311000246711072'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/689311000246711072'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/2008/07/secondary-pinching.html' title='Secondary Pinching!'/><author><name>The Real Bridget Jones</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06632021969926943756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_THtMxFjdEIs/RdMLHMB0y3I/AAAAAAAAABE/k_VhoJIIhwY/s320/cane.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37164851.post-325135607940943174</id><published>2008-07-16T17:45:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-07-16T17:46:44.607Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>Responses!</title><content type='html'>Grins...In answer to Rosie's comment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes it stopped raining, we have sunshine!&lt;br /&gt;Yes I'm still tired...working far too hard!&lt;br /&gt;Still curious about sultanas,&lt;br /&gt;Given up on TV,&lt;br /&gt;It's Wednesday, not bored but not engaged with life either,&lt;br /&gt;I did roast chicken, loads of vegetables, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Yorkshire&lt;/span&gt; puddings etc with lemon torte for dessert,&lt;br /&gt;and men...just MEN! sighs&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37164851-325135607940943174?l=bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/feeds/325135607940943174/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37164851&amp;postID=325135607940943174' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/325135607940943174'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/325135607940943174'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/2008/07/responses.html' title='Responses!'/><author><name>The Real Bridget Jones</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06632021969926943756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_THtMxFjdEIs/RdMLHMB0y3I/AAAAAAAAABE/k_VhoJIIhwY/s320/cane.bmp'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37164851.post-78176700962748229</id><published>2008-07-11T20:12:00.003Z</published><updated>2008-07-11T20:14:37.353Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tired'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='contemplative'/><title type='text'>Random thoughts...</title><content type='html'>Saw the Welshman yesterday....sighs&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Will it ever stop raining?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why am I so tired?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How many calories in sultanas?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do I want another cup of tea?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why is there nothing on TV?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why is my life so boring that I am wondering why there is nothing on TV on a Friday night?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What shall I cook my parents for dinner on Sunday...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why does the Welshman blow hot and cold?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37164851-78176700962748229?l=bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/feeds/78176700962748229/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37164851&amp;postID=78176700962748229' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/78176700962748229'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/78176700962748229'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/2008/07/random-thoughts.html' title='Random thoughts...'/><author><name>The Real Bridget Jones</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06632021969926943756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_THtMxFjdEIs/RdMLHMB0y3I/AAAAAAAAABE/k_VhoJIIhwY/s320/cane.bmp'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37164851.post-1289270142948730522</id><published>2008-06-17T06:51:00.003Z</published><updated>2008-06-17T06:57:17.568Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='humour'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='irony'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bitter and twisted'/><title type='text'>Warning...Bridget Jones Anti-man post!!!!!</title><content type='html'>It has taken me 30 odd years to realise what this song I used to sing actually means. Why the hell did nobody say listen to the words!!! Some wise woman there obviously sank it into young girl's consciousness so that it cascaded down the ages, hundreds of years later it still rings true  All men are......well you know!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soldier, soldier won't you marry me&lt;br /&gt;With your musket, fife and drum&lt;br /&gt;Oh no sweet girl I cannot marry you&lt;br /&gt;For I have no coat to put on&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So off she went to her grandfathers chest&lt;br /&gt;And she brought him a coat of the very very best&lt;br /&gt;And the soldier put it on&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soldier, soldier won't you marry me&lt;br /&gt;With your musket, fife and drum&lt;br /&gt;Oh no sweet girl I cannot marry you&lt;br /&gt;For I have no shoes to put on&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So off she went to her grandfathers chest&lt;br /&gt;And she brought him some shoes of the very very best&lt;br /&gt;And the soldier put them on&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soldier, soldier won't you marry me&lt;br /&gt;With your musket, fife and drum&lt;br /&gt;Oh no sweet girl I cannot marry you&lt;br /&gt;For I have no hat to put on&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So off she went to her grandfathers chest&lt;br /&gt;And she brought him a hat of the very very best&lt;br /&gt;And the soldier put it on&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soldier, soldier won't you marry me&lt;br /&gt;With your musket, fife and drum&lt;br /&gt;Oh no sweet girl I cannot marry you&lt;br /&gt;For I have a wife at home&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37164851-1289270142948730522?l=bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/feeds/1289270142948730522/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37164851&amp;postID=1289270142948730522' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/1289270142948730522'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/1289270142948730522'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/2008/06/warningbridget-jones-anti-man-post.html' title='Warning...Bridget Jones Anti-man post!!!!!'/><author><name>The Real Bridget Jones</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06632021969926943756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_THtMxFjdEIs/RdMLHMB0y3I/AAAAAAAAABE/k_VhoJIIhwY/s320/cane.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37164851.post-8361003890280791799</id><published>2008-06-02T14:39:00.009Z</published><updated>2008-06-02T14:51:06.170Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='coincidence'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dreams'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='aircraft'/><title type='text'>Strange....</title><content type='html'>I just realised a strange coincidence, exactly one month after I had my strange dream, an aerobatic plane crash landed less than 15 minutes flying time away from where I dreamed it had.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/england/7420968.stm"&gt;http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/england/7420968.stm&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Remind me to dream of fluffy pink bunnies next time....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37164851-8361003890280791799?l=bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='' href='http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/england/7420968.stm' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/feeds/8361003890280791799/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37164851&amp;postID=8361003890280791799' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/8361003890280791799'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/8361003890280791799'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/2008/06/strange.html' title='Strange....'/><author><name>The Real Bridget Jones</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06632021969926943756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_THtMxFjdEIs/RdMLHMB0y3I/AAAAAAAAABE/k_VhoJIIhwY/s320/cane.bmp'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37164851.post-7925016670255196403</id><published>2008-04-26T17:26:00.002Z</published><updated>2008-04-26T17:35:29.635Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dreams'/><title type='text'>More dreams</title><content type='html'>I am acting as a tour guide for friends but I don't know them, we are in London. It's busy...so very very busy. They see the glowing statues on the top of a building but it is obscured by people and buildings. We go around so that they can see the Tate Gallery, it is covered in scaffolding and tarpaulins and builders like little ants climbing all over it. It is 11.30 in the morning and the whole area is a bomb site. Literally. Like giant moles have tunnelled under streets and grass alike. I watch a small aircraft doing aerobatics but he is low, too low, he vanishes and I run to make sure he comes up again but nothing. I am on a bridge looking down at the Thames, the water level must be 100feet below but the riverbed is empty. It is just like a stream of muddy puddles. I guess that the aircraft must be there somewhere but I can't see it. The whole area is chaos, I don't know what happened but there was something major. London has been decimated completely. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then I woke...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37164851-7925016670255196403?l=bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/feeds/7925016670255196403/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37164851&amp;postID=7925016670255196403' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/7925016670255196403'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/7925016670255196403'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/2008/04/more-dreams.html' title='More dreams'/><author><name>The Real Bridget Jones</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06632021969926943756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_THtMxFjdEIs/RdMLHMB0y3I/AAAAAAAAABE/k_VhoJIIhwY/s320/cane.bmp'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37164851.post-7377111850883247574</id><published>2008-04-09T19:30:00.004Z</published><updated>2008-04-09T19:43:55.314Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='confused'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='E.'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Happening'/><title type='text'>The Happening pt 3</title><content type='html'>Well, a good news post at last. In the summer of last year I met someone who made me turn to jelly, a D personality that resounded and every contact left me shaking. Even at the time rereading my blog, the way He makes me feel has not changed. Well this week I am working from the Welsh office and bumped into Him again. We got chatting, He asked leading questions about my domestic circumstances, my replies demonstrated I was obviously solo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We chatted some more about everything but work, He dropped in an as I'm a single man if I want to ride my motorbike and buy a new one at the drop of a hat I can. I did the discreet, 'oh, I thought you had a gf' bit to which He replied no....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We chatted on and He flirted outrageously, showed me His new slimline figure, said He is happy as long as His head gets stroked (sounds daft now but at the time..well yanno) and asked who would fancy a bald, ugly bloke. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the past year, no matter where our paths have crossed (and even when I was with E, ) He has made me tremble...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When He walked into the office I was using this morning (not one He has any reason to use) He came straight over, I was with 2 female colleagues, but He came straight over to me and said good morning, gave me a hug and a kiss on the cheek, and said jokingly He had to start the day with a cuddle. (He didn't do this to either of my colleagues)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know what to think...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Answer on a postcard please....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37164851-7377111850883247574?l=bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/feeds/7377111850883247574/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37164851&amp;postID=7377111850883247574' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/7377111850883247574'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/7377111850883247574'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/2008/04/happening-pt-3.html' title='The Happening pt 3'/><author><name>The Real Bridget Jones</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06632021969926943756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_THtMxFjdEIs/RdMLHMB0y3I/AAAAAAAAABE/k_VhoJIIhwY/s320/cane.bmp'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37164851.post-948631222868352290</id><published>2008-04-05T16:32:00.002Z</published><updated>2008-04-05T16:35:05.637Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stressed'/><title type='text'>Doing FINE</title><content type='html'>A perceptive friend gave me this definition of what someone really means when they say "it's ok I'm fine"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;F ucked up&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;I nsecure&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;N eurotic&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;E motional&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Damn her!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37164851-948631222868352290?l=bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/feeds/948631222868352290/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37164851&amp;postID=948631222868352290' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/948631222868352290'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/948631222868352290'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/2008/04/doing-fine.html' title='Doing FINE'/><author><name>The Real Bridget Jones</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06632021969926943756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_THtMxFjdEIs/RdMLHMB0y3I/AAAAAAAAABE/k_VhoJIIhwY/s320/cane.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37164851.post-7424236527779482553</id><published>2008-04-02T17:56:00.002Z</published><updated>2008-04-02T18:04:26.798Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tired'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='feelings'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='E.'/><title type='text'>Tired</title><content type='html'>I don't know if it is because of broken sleep or if I'm just working too hard right no but I am so darn tired.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been keeping up the chirpy alway happy to help out persona for months now hoping nobody will notice that it is just an empty shell and the essence of me that used to be there is not present. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nobody has said anything, I guess the shell is performing adequately, should I be worried? I still feel as if I am in some strange out of body experience, I hear the words that come out of my mouth, see the expressions changing on my face, smiling politely, looking concerned when required, laughing at jokes but I'm not present inside. Ever since E made the decision that He had to go back to look after His daughter and consequently the marital home I have been in this alternate universe where nothing reaches me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37164851-7424236527779482553?l=bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/feeds/7424236527779482553/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37164851&amp;postID=7424236527779482553' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/7424236527779482553'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/7424236527779482553'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/2008/04/tired.html' title='Tired'/><author><name>The Real Bridget Jones</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06632021969926943756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_THtMxFjdEIs/RdMLHMB0y3I/AAAAAAAAABE/k_VhoJIIhwY/s320/cane.bmp'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37164851.post-5352967301947123167</id><published>2008-03-29T22:14:00.002Z</published><updated>2008-03-29T22:43:57.703Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dreams'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='confused'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='angry'/><title type='text'>and still more</title><content type='html'>For someone who either never dreams or at least never remembers them they are coming thick and fast!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2 colleagues are with me, we are supposed to be working together but they go on ahead. The guy we have gone to see tells us that the quickest way to the meeting room is via the wall cavities (about 3 foot wide and rocky) I am wearing heels and carrying equipment and struggling so I call the other 2. They begrudgingly came back and took some of it and then scootled off again together leaving me behind. I have to navigate a steep slope in my heels and carrying a box. The cavity has loads of twists and turns and I lose my bearings. I see a gap in the wall and an Indian man is there I call out to him but he can't hear me at first. Eventually I attract his attention and ask him the way as my colleagues have gone. He points the way out and I continue my ascent, that was the point I woke up with the alarm. I was still annoyed with my 2 colleagues (they are like that in real life too)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It seems really strange why my dream activity is so intense and memorable and just so real right now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37164851-5352967301947123167?l=bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/feeds/5352967301947123167/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37164851&amp;postID=5352967301947123167' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/5352967301947123167'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/5352967301947123167'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/2008/03/and-still-more.html' title='and still more'/><author><name>The Real Bridget Jones</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06632021969926943756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_THtMxFjdEIs/RdMLHMB0y3I/AAAAAAAAABE/k_VhoJIIhwY/s320/cane.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37164851.post-3187612649760631323</id><published>2008-03-28T19:25:00.002Z</published><updated>2008-03-28T19:29:00.955Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dreams'/><title type='text'>Still dreaming</title><content type='html'>I was living in a large warehouse, full of tall racking and narrow aisles. I'm expecting a visitor and wearing a dressing gown, the door bell rings...I rush to answer it, I bounce to the door and answer it with a wide smile but the visitor is not who I am expecting, a strange man is there..I would recognise him again, he had very distinctive features, he pushes past me and I am powerless to stop him and then I wake...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37164851-3187612649760631323?l=bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/feeds/3187612649760631323/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37164851&amp;postID=3187612649760631323' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/3187612649760631323'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/3187612649760631323'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/2008/03/still-dreaming.html' title='Still dreaming'/><author><name>The Real Bridget Jones</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06632021969926943756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_THtMxFjdEIs/RdMLHMB0y3I/AAAAAAAAABE/k_VhoJIIhwY/s320/cane.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37164851.post-6553340689269815314</id><published>2008-03-24T09:21:00.003Z</published><updated>2008-03-24T09:45:05.188Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dreams'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='SR'/><title type='text'>Easter</title><content type='html'>For the last 2 nights I have had strange dreams, I can't make sense of them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is some kind of conflict where people are thrown together, SR's child is there but tiny, (if it is one of his daughter's they are much younger than they are currently, the other option is it is the child I miscarried, the age would be right.) SR's partner is there but it is not L (the witch). I can't see her. I am standing at a sink between 2 beds trying to brush my teeth but the first brush I pick up is dirty. I reach for the other which is recognisably mine. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I start to brush my teeth SR approaches me from behind and just holds me. I feel safe. I turn to see the child pulling at the unit at the side of the room and balanced on the top is the most huge personal stereo in the world, I try to call out to stop the child getting crushed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can feel the presence of a lot of other people but I can't see them, the only ones I am aware of are SR and the child. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've not consciously thought of SR in a while but this keeps recurring...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37164851-6553340689269815314?l=bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/feeds/6553340689269815314/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37164851&amp;postID=6553340689269815314' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/6553340689269815314'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/6553340689269815314'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/2008/03/easter.html' title='Easter'/><author><name>The Real Bridget Jones</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06632021969926943756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_THtMxFjdEIs/RdMLHMB0y3I/AAAAAAAAABE/k_VhoJIIhwY/s320/cane.bmp'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37164851.post-4062734247377097213</id><published>2008-02-23T20:54:00.002Z</published><updated>2008-02-23T21:21:21.306Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='self pity'/><title type='text'>It's been a while.....</title><content type='html'>Have you noticed that when you hit the real low points in your life music takes on a new meaning, you have a heightened awareness of what the artist was thinking or feeling when he penned particular lyrics. It's been a while, (laughs softly) as I typed it a song came to mind that I had to play. It was one of those one hit wonders from 2001 that on the strength of a single song I bought the album but the album only emerges when in that sad melancholy frame of mind. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It's been a while, since I could hold my head up high, it's been a while, since I first saw you, it's been a while since I could stand on my own two feet again, and it's been a while since I could call you."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It's been a while since I've gone and fucked things up just like I always do..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See music matches the mood. The other one that has had a hammering this year is Damien Rice. "Cheers darlin" has a resonance beyond prior imagination.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So,2008, what has it brought? Well, E has returned to the ex wife and the family home and I am but a distant memory. He still texts but.... no just... but.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been a roller coaster of emotion and I feel guilty for immersing myself once more in misery, albeit in private, you see the nature of our relationship was never really public, so I guess on the one hand I have saved myself the pity of people knowing that life has been inverted once more, on the other I have nobody to understand and comfort me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My boss must love the disaster that is my private life, when it goes wrong which is not infrequent he gets a totally committed employee, working 80 90 hours a week and more, concentrating hard in order to shut out the pain. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel selfish and guilty too though, my friend's father is dying and I'm trying so hard to be there and be supportive but I feel somehow detached. It's like astral projection, I almost feel as if I am watching myself go through the motions in life as an interested observer, not exactly feeling but showing the pretence of compassion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll not lie, I've sat there with the pills and contemplated taking them, it's like how many times do I have to go through this, destined to live life without someone by my side, someone to come home to. I feel like I'm being punished but I don't know what my crime is. As if I am really a horrendously awful person, because all of these people I see as being mean and cruel or heartless all have happy home lives. Ergo I must be the awful one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Self pity is an awful thing....tomorrow will be better.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37164851-4062734247377097213?l=bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/feeds/4062734247377097213/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37164851&amp;postID=4062734247377097213' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/4062734247377097213'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/4062734247377097213'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/2008/02/its-been-while.html' title='It&apos;s been a while.....'/><author><name>The Real Bridget Jones</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06632021969926943756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_THtMxFjdEIs/RdMLHMB0y3I/AAAAAAAAABE/k_VhoJIIhwY/s320/cane.bmp'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37164851.post-2066740914556113338</id><published>2008-01-05T21:34:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-01-05T21:47:54.758Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='E.'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sad'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Christmas'/><title type='text'>The calm after the storm</title><content type='html'>Well Christmas and new year now seem like distant memories. They went in a whirl of family stuff. Did the traditional 'single daughter' thing over the festivities with the family. They never mention it but you can always see the equilibrium upset. The animals go by 2 by 2 and then oh, here comes the single daughter. The family don't know about E, so all I get are the pitying looks and , well, patronising comments I suppose. There were a few questioning looks as my phone beeped regularly though the day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E is away right now, he has family connections 200 miles away that will keep him there for a while so I'm feeling a little lost. Strange huh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are talking daily, texting hourly, MSNing in between and I'm still missing him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been working hard at college, more exams coming up soon and he is being exceptionally supportive. The weight which was starting to come off has come back on. I feel upside down and back to front and round the wrong way. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not sure if he is going to be able to come back home, things are a little complicated and his youngest needs him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Only time will tell.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37164851-2066740914556113338?l=bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/feeds/2066740914556113338/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37164851&amp;postID=2066740914556113338' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/2066740914556113338'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/2066740914556113338'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/2008/01/calm-after-storm.html' title='The calm after the storm'/><author><name>The Real Bridget Jones</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06632021969926943756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_THtMxFjdEIs/RdMLHMB0y3I/AAAAAAAAABE/k_VhoJIIhwY/s320/cane.bmp'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37164851.post-4456986426723557220</id><published>2007-12-24T12:26:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-12-24T12:39:10.323Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Christmas'/><title type='text'>Merry Christmas</title><content type='html'>That time of year again. Well Chistmas is well and truly upon us. Time to head down to my folks and be the single daughter again. E has his family around him so I shan't see him until the weekend. We will talk daily though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope that everyone has a peaceful Christmas and a Happy New Year.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37164851-4456986426723557220?l=bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/feeds/4456986426723557220/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37164851&amp;postID=4456986426723557220' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/4456986426723557220'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/4456986426723557220'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/2007/12/merry-christmas.html' title='Merry Christmas'/><author><name>The Real Bridget Jones</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06632021969926943756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_THtMxFjdEIs/RdMLHMB0y3I/AAAAAAAAABE/k_VhoJIIhwY/s320/cane.bmp'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37164851.post-1128272135318109024</id><published>2007-10-28T08:50:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-10-28T09:04:46.345Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='reflective'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='gym'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dutchman'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='time'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='E.'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='SR'/><title type='text'>The end of Summer</title><content type='html'>The clocks went back at 2am this morning, all bar my body clock that is, so I have left E sleeping upstairs, He was working yesterday and was very tired.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I have completed lots of (quiet) chores and the house is as it should be. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The end of a period always makes me stop and consider. When the clocks went forward I was still with CM (he rang on Friday, we talked for an hour, mainly about the other woman -his 'best friend' who still dominates his life) I was still very hung up on SR, I was missing the Dutchman. Truth be told I still miss the Dutchman. He is one of those guys that will always be in in my mind I think. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now? I have met E, I am in a place in my mind that is calm and relaxed. It is the 1st anniversary of the eruption with SR next weekend and yet I am calm. I can see just how many things were wrong in that relationship and yet I hung on and tried to make it work. I must do some research - I can't remember who the patron saint of lost causes was but I'm sure I must have had an eye to her!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am heading off to the gym soon, not sure why as I already feel bruised and battered from yesterday's session (gym not E)((although I do have a tingle and a redness to my rear that I cannot put down to the treadmill))&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have put on 7 pounds this last 2 months (ish) through non-attendance and working away so I need to get that back off again. E has promised to help and set me targets to work to. I weigh in on a Saturday and if it is only me looking it is a case of 'bugger must try harder next week' if E is watching He will set me tasks to do that He knows I hate in order to spur me on to the extra session in the gym or the healthy food choice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also know however that I will be rewarded for a loss as was demonstrated last night when He gave me a preview. I know however that there will be no repetition until I have lost 2 pounds!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That man knows how to motivate a girl! Time to get ready and take His tea before I go.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37164851-1128272135318109024?l=bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/feeds/1128272135318109024/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37164851&amp;postID=1128272135318109024' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/1128272135318109024'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/1128272135318109024'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/2007/10/end-of-summer.html' title='The end of Summer'/><author><name>The Real Bridget Jones</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06632021969926943756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_THtMxFjdEIs/RdMLHMB0y3I/AAAAAAAAABE/k_VhoJIIhwY/s320/cane.bmp'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37164851.post-6680431372029980325</id><published>2007-10-22T18:14:00.001Z</published><updated>2007-10-22T18:26:32.694Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='feelings'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='E.'/><title type='text'>Still lax</title><content type='html'>Yes I know I know, I read another post today and it commented on how sometimes there is just no compulsion to blog. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the reasons I started my blog was to empty my brain of all those thoughts that clutter it up and cloud your judgement. Borne of sadness and confusion. Even when I was seeing Coffee Man I continued to blog, there was still something missing, since meeting E life seems more complete. I feel relaxed and comfortable, the feelings that SR stirred have been fulfilled. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was skating on the extremes of a secret world, now I have been given the key. I feel like I have been given the most wondrous gift in the world. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Work is busy, frantic even and yet I feel calm, I know that the minute I clock off I am His and have just one responsibility and that is Him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never expected to feel this treasured, like a piece of fragile crystal does that seem strange? It is a wonderful feeling.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37164851-6680431372029980325?l=bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/feeds/6680431372029980325/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37164851&amp;postID=6680431372029980325' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/6680431372029980325'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/6680431372029980325'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/2007/10/still-lax.html' title='Still lax'/><author><name>The Real Bridget Jones</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06632021969926943756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_THtMxFjdEIs/RdMLHMB0y3I/AAAAAAAAABE/k_VhoJIIhwY/s320/cane.bmp'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37164851.post-3309560250792263756</id><published>2007-10-10T21:09:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-10-10T21:18:38.331Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='happy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='exams'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='E.'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='uni'/><title type='text'>Examined</title><content type='html'>Well I completed my 2 exams today so fingers crossed I did ok. The results are due back in December just in time for Xmas!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E has been great dealing with my pre-exam stress out too. Even testing me on theories and models.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what is E like, lovely? No I shouldn't say that, makes him sound very un dom like.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He is just under 6' tall (that's very tall compared to me!) He has lovely almost black hair with perhaps a few wispy grey bits creeping in (He blames me for them), he is 42 (single - just in case anyone was wondering - Rosie.....) he has broad broad shoulders and a tattoo on his upper right arm. His voice is to die for- very home counties English (think Hugh Grant?) and the deepest blue grey eyes. Piercing in fact.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He has been in the lifestyle for 15 years or so, so a lot more experienced than me, but because of that he is very gentle, persistent but gentle. Gradually bringing new experiences to me, not so quick that i run like a startled rabbit though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All in all, life is still good!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37164851-3309560250792263756?l=bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/feeds/3309560250792263756/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37164851&amp;postID=3309560250792263756' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/3309560250792263756'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/3309560250792263756'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/2007/10/examined.html' title='Examined'/><author><name>The Real Bridget Jones</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06632021969926943756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_THtMxFjdEIs/RdMLHMB0y3I/AAAAAAAAABE/k_VhoJIIhwY/s320/cane.bmp'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37164851.post-993493517613954929</id><published>2007-10-07T20:37:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-10-07T20:41:39.064Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='E.'/><title type='text'>Update</title><content type='html'>Thngs are still going well. I'm settling in to E's routines and life seems strangely calm and placid. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do have exams on Wednesday which I am approaching with trepidation but, I hate exams. If I fail it will not be from lack of study. At the moment things are in my brain. Whether they still will be when I sit down I don't know. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;e has been encouraging me and being very supportive. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Work has been frantic with so much driving this week. Traffic has been horrendous.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37164851-993493517613954929?l=bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/feeds/993493517613954929/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37164851&amp;postID=993493517613954929' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/993493517613954929'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/993493517613954929'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/2007/10/update.html' title='Update'/><author><name>The Real Bridget Jones</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06632021969926943756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_THtMxFjdEIs/RdMLHMB0y3I/AAAAAAAAABE/k_VhoJIIhwY/s320/cane.bmp'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37164851.post-748944905197034314</id><published>2007-09-29T11:40:00.001Z</published><updated>2007-09-29T11:53:37.274Z</updated><title type='text'>Me?</title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.testriffic.com/personality/personality.php"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.testriffic.com/images/personality_altruist.gif" alt="Testriffic.com" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I came 0ut as altruist,E came out as  Sentry - (so true!!) So what about you???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_THtMxFjdEIs/Rv47lRtrYYI/AAAAAAAAABs/y34UmpiQzUU/s1600-h/personality_sentry.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_THtMxFjdEIs/Rv47lRtrYYI/AAAAAAAAABs/y34UmpiQzUU/s320/personality_sentry.gif" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5115591738335650178" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37164851-748944905197034314?l=bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/feeds/748944905197034314/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37164851&amp;postID=748944905197034314' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/748944905197034314'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/748944905197034314'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/2007/09/me.html' title='Me?'/><author><name>The Real Bridget Jones</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06632021969926943756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_THtMxFjdEIs/RdMLHMB0y3I/AAAAAAAAABE/k_VhoJIIhwY/s320/cane.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_THtMxFjdEIs/Rv47lRtrYYI/AAAAAAAAABs/y34UmpiQzUU/s72-c/personality_sentry.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37164851.post-8420924587570829357</id><published>2007-09-24T17:11:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-09-24T17:19:23.934Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='E.'/><title type='text'>Very lax indeed</title><content type='html'>As I have been reminded it has been 8 days since I last posted (that sounds like I am reliving my Catholic past doesn't it - 8 days since my last confession....)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It has been an extremely busy 8 days, in fact I could say that I have been somewhat tied up :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what has been happening? Revision mainly, working up to the exams in 2 weeks time, working hard at my main job, and getting to know E.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like I have known him forever and ever, he seems to understand my every thought, fear and need. He is the first person I speak to in the morning and the last I speak to at night. When I go to the wardrobe to choose what to wear, my thoughts are what would he like to see me in. My usually hyper personality is calm. Things that would rile me leave me untouched. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life is good.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37164851-8420924587570829357?l=bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/feeds/8420924587570829357/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37164851&amp;postID=8420924587570829357' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/8420924587570829357'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/8420924587570829357'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/2007/09/very-lax-indeed.html' title='Very lax indeed'/><author><name>The Real Bridget Jones</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06632021969926943756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_THtMxFjdEIs/RdMLHMB0y3I/AAAAAAAAABE/k_VhoJIIhwY/s320/cane.bmp'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37164851.post-2558586489730517768</id><published>2007-09-15T18:33:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-09-15T18:43:17.633Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='study'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='play'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='E.'/><title type='text'>Busy day</title><content type='html'>I started early this morning and went to the gym. I came home and cracked on with my revision. I finished the last of the modules last night. So I have my revision plan all mapped out for what I need to do before the 10/10.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E came over for dinner last night, and we had a really lovely night, I cooked his favourite meal and dessert, he brought the wine with him and we sat and talked and played until about 2am. He had to go into work first thing so we left together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I won't see him again until Monday as we both have things to do tomorrow. I have to write an essay of things i want to try and things that worry me and things that are strictly off limits before then. (Any suggestions on things to try would be gratefully received, I'm feeling very unimaginative today - too much economics study!!)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37164851-2558586489730517768?l=bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/feeds/2558586489730517768/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37164851&amp;postID=2558586489730517768' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/2558586489730517768'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/2558586489730517768'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/2007/09/busy-day.html' title='Busy day'/><author><name>The Real Bridget Jones</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06632021969926943756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_THtMxFjdEIs/RdMLHMB0y3I/AAAAAAAAABE/k_VhoJIIhwY/s320/cane.bmp'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37164851.post-1784108536919969877</id><published>2007-09-12T16:41:00.001Z</published><updated>2007-09-12T16:56:22.171Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='E.'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='uni'/><title type='text'>Wednesday</title><content type='html'>I worked from home today as there was so much to do and it was easier to do it without interruptions. As a result it's all done and only 5.45. yay!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm trying to get the last of my college books done too so that I can concentrate on the exams next month. 3 more modules. I should get another one done tonight. Hopefully it will be revision time from Saturday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok milla, just for you - I met E at a local munch some time ago but the time was not right. We bumped into each other about 5 weeks ago got chatting and things had changed at his end. So, we started talking lots and made it official last week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am falling into routine so easily it's as if he has been around for years. Already I am taking his thoughts into consideration when i am doing anything, I'm not seeing him tonight, and I'm missing him already.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37164851-1784108536919969877?l=bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/feeds/1784108536919969877/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37164851&amp;postID=1784108536919969877' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/1784108536919969877'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/1784108536919969877'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/2007/09/wednesday.html' title='Wednesday'/><author><name>The Real Bridget Jones</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06632021969926943756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_THtMxFjdEIs/RdMLHMB0y3I/AAAAAAAAABE/k_VhoJIIhwY/s320/cane.bmp'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37164851.post-657902150895935502</id><published>2007-09-09T16:54:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-09-09T17:11:00.645Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='E.'/><title type='text'>Smiles - happy and sub again!!</title><content type='html'>Ok ok so it wasn't macrame! Shibari - macrame hey it's almost the same, isn't it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like I've come home with E. There has been so much discussion taking place to ensure it is right and we are finding out about each other, likes and dislikes, limits etc. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm having limits set and he has placed reminders for me of my training. It's going to be a slow process but it feels right. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are going to Birmingham for &lt;a href="http://www.brumbazaar.co.uk/"&gt;BBB &lt;/a&gt;next month, the next one is next Sunday but prior engagements are not conducive. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news i have only one more workbook to do to complete module. Exams are starting to loom and I'm getting jumpy!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37164851-657902150895935502?l=bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='' href='http://www.brumbazaar.co.uk/' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/feeds/657902150895935502/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37164851&amp;postID=657902150895935502' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/657902150895935502'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/657902150895935502'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/2007/09/smiles-happy-and-sub-again.html' title='Smiles - happy and sub again!!'/><author><name>The Real Bridget Jones</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06632021969926943756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_THtMxFjdEIs/RdMLHMB0y3I/AAAAAAAAABE/k_VhoJIIhwY/s320/cane.bmp'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37164851.post-5940669987448933960</id><published>2007-09-06T18:35:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-09-06T18:39:47.962Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='knot'/><title type='text'>Knot my usual Wednesday night</title><content type='html'>So, He is into macrame? I spent an interesting evening learning the basics of knots and methods of restraint.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never realised how beautiful it could be and how sophisticated the skill. How balanced and co-ordinated it had to be. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm learning lots!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37164851-5940669987448933960?l=bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/feeds/5940669987448933960/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37164851&amp;postID=5940669987448933960' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/5940669987448933960'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/5940669987448933960'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/2007/09/knot-my-usual-wednesday-night.html' title='Knot my usual Wednesday night'/><author><name>The Real Bridget Jones</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06632021969926943756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_THtMxFjdEIs/RdMLHMB0y3I/AAAAAAAAABE/k_VhoJIIhwY/s320/cane.bmp'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37164851.post-5016621827066559675</id><published>2007-09-03T18:05:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-09-03T18:20:59.905Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dom'/><title type='text'>Slowly slowly</title><content type='html'>He rang last night, we were on the phone for over 2 hours again. Our working lives are similar and although he is local to me, work takes him away for long periods.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He makes me laugh and provokes thoughts that have never entered my consciousness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have remained quiet until now as, well, you know my luck, I wanted to be sure. This is the first time I have knowingly entered into a D/s relationship. With discussion and decisions made, I feel nervous, a little scared, excited, a whole plethora of emotions. Is that normal? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He has been totally open with me, and it feels more contractual right now than emotional as he wants me to be sure. I always thought that there was something missing in my 'normal' relationships and I suppose now we will know. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wish me luck....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37164851-5016621827066559675?l=bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/feeds/5016621827066559675/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37164851&amp;postID=5016621827066559675' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/5016621827066559675'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/5016621827066559675'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/2007/09/slowly-slowly.html' title='Slowly slowly'/><author><name>The Real Bridget Jones</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06632021969926943756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_THtMxFjdEIs/RdMLHMB0y3I/AAAAAAAAABE/k_VhoJIIhwY/s320/cane.bmp'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37164851.post-6550266309291676929</id><published>2007-09-02T18:58:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-09-02T19:09:34.466Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dom'/><title type='text'>Nervous anticipation</title><content type='html'>I have met someone with whom I am in discussion. Not just anyone, but someone whom I have been getting to know and trust over a period of time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He has similar life interests and is interested in a journey together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is no formal arrangement as yet, we will get to understand each other more first. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But fingers crossed......&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37164851-6550266309291676929?l=bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/feeds/6550266309291676929/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37164851&amp;postID=6550266309291676929' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/6550266309291676929'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/6550266309291676929'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/2007/09/nervous-anticipation.html' title='Nervous anticipation'/><author><name>The Real Bridget Jones</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06632021969926943756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_THtMxFjdEIs/RdMLHMB0y3I/AAAAAAAAABE/k_VhoJIIhwY/s320/cane.bmp'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37164851.post-1095462498572914270</id><published>2007-08-29T16:59:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-08-29T17:04:29.014Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tired'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='uni'/><title type='text'>School day</title><content type='html'>I had an assessment today at uni and passed! Don't know what score I got yet but at least it was a pass. I also got some advice on the assignment where I wasn't sure if I was on the right track. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm feeling really really tired today, I've not slept well recently, I'm not sure why it just seems I'm keep waking through the night. I've tried milky drinks and warm baths, early nights, reading before I turn out the light all sorts but still I'm restless.Hopefully it is just a phase.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37164851-1095462498572914270?l=bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/feeds/1095462498572914270/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37164851&amp;postID=1095462498572914270' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/1095462498572914270'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/1095462498572914270'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/2007/08/school-day.html' title='School day'/><author><name>The Real Bridget Jones</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06632021969926943756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_THtMxFjdEIs/RdMLHMB0y3I/AAAAAAAAABE/k_VhoJIIhwY/s320/cane.bmp'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37164851.post-2029170166552508915</id><published>2007-08-26T18:42:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-08-26T18:58:05.109Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='SR'/><title type='text'>Lunch</title><content type='html'>I went to lunch with SR's daughter and her boyfriend in their new home today. The first time we have really really chatted since the break up. She assured me it was safe as he had taken her to France for the weekend!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tried to avoid her father's name coming up but she brought it up first. Primarily because she hates his new girlfriend (she calls her the witch) apparently she is really smug about 'winning' him. What she doesn't know and his daughter does is that he is also having intimate relations with a married woman. (snigger)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She feels forced out of her own home by this woman and her kids, she came home from uni (expected) to find her sons in her bedroom and no room for her in her own home. Her father defends the witch (as she shall henceforth be known) even before his own kids. The youngest daughter goes out drinking until 3am in the morning 3 times a week and barely scraped through her GCSEs. I am worried about her but can't do anything, her father ignores it whilst it does not interfere with his life. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I met his ex-wife once after a problem with the youngest last year, funnily enough I found out today that we actually have a mutual appreciation society. Odd huh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So today was quite enlightening. I walked to the shop with the boyfriend whilst daughter no 1 made lunch, I got the unbiased side from him, he really hates SR for what he did to me. My next problem though is their house warming party, they want me to go but He will be there with the witch. What do I do???&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37164851-2029170166552508915?l=bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/feeds/2029170166552508915/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37164851&amp;postID=2029170166552508915' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/2029170166552508915'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/2029170166552508915'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/2007/08/lunch.html' title='Lunch'/><author><name>The Real Bridget Jones</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06632021969926943756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_THtMxFjdEIs/RdMLHMB0y3I/AAAAAAAAABE/k_VhoJIIhwY/s320/cane.bmp'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37164851.post-482933752607049295</id><published>2007-08-25T20:51:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-08-25T20:53:37.284Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Tipsy'/><title type='text'>giggles</title><content type='html'>Too much red wine!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to the gym today - a little easier than yesterday. Then went and had my hair cut.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Couldn't be bothered to cook tonight so I got a takeaway and a bottle of red. How bad is that?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37164851-482933752607049295?l=bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/feeds/482933752607049295/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37164851&amp;postID=482933752607049295' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/482933752607049295'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/482933752607049295'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/2007/08/giggles.html' title='giggles'/><author><name>The Real Bridget Jones</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06632021969926943756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_THtMxFjdEIs/RdMLHMB0y3I/AAAAAAAAABE/k_VhoJIIhwY/s320/cane.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37164851.post-2569923020718932911</id><published>2007-08-24T17:16:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-08-24T17:22:39.441Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='gym'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='SR'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sad'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='uni'/><title type='text'>Friday</title><content type='html'>I went to the gym for the first time this week, I only did half what I normally do and the sweat was just pouring out of me. I guess the bug is still with me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I only have one part of my assignment left to do but I just could not get motivated today. I had a look at the assessment for next week though and put some thoughts together. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did get the grass cut and the edges strimmed in the garden though. I thought I would get out there in the brief dry interlude.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I keep thinking of SR again today, I don't know why, probably the thought of the weekend looming in front and the knowledge she is there. I wish I could just get over this, it is so annoying. How long does it take for goodness sake???? I get so annoyed with myself. His daughter has asked me to visit her in her new home on Sunday. Be nice to catch up with her and her boyfriend.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37164851-2569923020718932911?l=bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/feeds/2569923020718932911/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37164851&amp;postID=2569923020718932911' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/2569923020718932911'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/2569923020718932911'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/2007/08/friday.html' title='Friday'/><author><name>The Real Bridget Jones</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06632021969926943756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_THtMxFjdEIs/RdMLHMB0y3I/AAAAAAAAABE/k_VhoJIIhwY/s320/cane.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37164851.post-3810617736884723941</id><published>2007-08-22T17:55:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-08-22T18:04:05.033Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='doctors'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dutchman'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='uni'/><title type='text'>Inspiration</title><content type='html'>I cracked on with my assignment today and got loads done which is good. I seemed to be able to get all the diagrams right and the models I needed just when I needed them. That rarely happens so hopefully it bodes well!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still need to find a load of info out though. There is always tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It didn't even get light today, been bathed in murky rainclouds all day! So much for summer!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Got a check up at the Drs tomorrow , only blood pressure and weight eeeeek&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still missing my Dutchman&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37164851-3810617736884723941?l=bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/feeds/3810617736884723941/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37164851&amp;postID=3810617736884723941' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/3810617736884723941'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/3810617736884723941'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/2007/08/inspriration.html' title='Inspiration'/><author><name>The Real Bridget Jones</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06632021969926943756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_THtMxFjdEIs/RdMLHMB0y3I/AAAAAAAAABE/k_VhoJIIhwY/s320/cane.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37164851.post-4691242051517029465</id><published>2007-08-21T19:39:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-08-21T19:46:08.728Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='SR'/><title type='text'>Tuesday again!</title><content type='html'>Lax again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, so what has been occurring? I've been working hard all last week, going to the gym, and thinking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think too much I know, sometimes I should just let things be. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The dork made contact yesterday and we actually ended up having a bit of a laugh. No hopes are being held out there though. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SR's daughter made contact today, things have become unbearable in the family home with Him and the woman who was not going to be around for long and who is still there. She has asked me to go for dinner on Sunday. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to see Shrek today, it was funny. I went with my brother, he is as big a kid as me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh and I have caught a cold, typical huh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's all folks!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37164851-4691242051517029465?l=bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/feeds/4691242051517029465/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37164851&amp;postID=4691242051517029465' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/4691242051517029465'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/4691242051517029465'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/2007/08/tuesday-again.html' title='Tuesday again!'/><author><name>The Real Bridget Jones</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06632021969926943756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_THtMxFjdEIs/RdMLHMB0y3I/AAAAAAAAABE/k_VhoJIIhwY/s320/cane.bmp'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37164851.post-1364359443539018884</id><published>2007-08-14T17:17:00.002Z</published><updated>2007-08-14T17:20:48.319Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='gym'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='uni'/><title type='text'>Tuesday already?</title><content type='html'>Well, owing to any other outlet I have been throwing myself into the gym, full workout both yesterday and today. I put on 3 pounds last week (eeeekk how did that happen?) so I'm determined to get them off this. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Got my assignment results back, I passed, not a good pass but hey, it was a pass. I try to get more than that in the assignment as it gives me more scope for failure in the exam. I'm rubbish under exam conditions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really should be starting the next one now though.....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37164851-1364359443539018884?l=bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/feeds/1364359443539018884/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37164851&amp;postID=1364359443539018884' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/1364359443539018884'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/1364359443539018884'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/2007/08/tuesday-already_14.html' title='Tuesday already?'/><author><name>The Real Bridget Jones</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06632021969926943756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_THtMxFjdEIs/RdMLHMB0y3I/AAAAAAAAABE/k_VhoJIIhwY/s320/cane.bmp'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37164851.post-3181668662217906799</id><published>2007-08-12T16:53:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-08-12T17:01:46.461Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tired'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sad'/><title type='text'>The wanderer returns!</title><content type='html'>It has been such a busy week. I've been working in the south west most of last week and then returned home via foot and mouth country.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Work went well though, got everything done that needed to be done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Had my mother's birthday party yesterday, as usual I was on my best behaviour. Always the way with my family get togethers. I am designated driver and there for everyone else to be smug about. The single daughter - the failure!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man on the periphery turned out to be a dork. Nothing ever works out in my love life. I should have known better.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37164851-3181668662217906799?l=bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/feeds/3181668662217906799/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37164851&amp;postID=3181668662217906799' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/3181668662217906799'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/3181668662217906799'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/2007/08/wanderer-returns.html' title='The wanderer returns!'/><author><name>The Real Bridget Jones</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06632021969926943756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_THtMxFjdEIs/RdMLHMB0y3I/AAAAAAAAABE/k_VhoJIIhwY/s320/cane.bmp'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37164851.post-771549745850087882</id><published>2007-08-04T15:59:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-08-04T16:11:22.113Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='happy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='optomistic'/><title type='text'>A bit lax</title><content type='html'>I've been really short on time this week with one thing and another so I thought I would catch up now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I picked up my gym stats for last month today:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Workouts: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CV Time: 16:21:11 &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CV Calories: 10355 &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Weight [kgs.]: 65,116&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not bad huh? have to see what next months are like, although I won't get there this week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am going to be away most of the week this week coming and doubt if I will have access at all to anything,internet or gym!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Update no 2:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still not squealing but there is a new man wandering into the periphery of my life right now. He is away this weekend and I'm away next week. Isn't that just typical? He is making me feel good about myself though and making me smile and rush home to talk to Him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think that is all to report right now - still don't want to put the mockers on anything....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37164851-771549745850087882?l=bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/feeds/771549745850087882/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37164851&amp;postID=771549745850087882' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/771549745850087882'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/771549745850087882'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/2007/08/bit-lax.html' title='A bit lax'/><author><name>The Real Bridget Jones</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06632021969926943756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_THtMxFjdEIs/RdMLHMB0y3I/AAAAAAAAABE/k_VhoJIIhwY/s320/cane.bmp'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37164851.post-6479709056958427040</id><published>2007-08-01T18:01:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-08-01T18:13:24.159Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='optomistic'/><title type='text'>Life goes on - being a flirt :)</title><content type='html'>I've been away this week and just got home, I think I'm turning into a tart. It was a beautiful day and I had a spring in my step, a car park full of salesman and I could feel the eyes following as I sashayed past. Why is it that some days you've got it and some days you haven't? And why is it I only ever have it when I'm 200 miles from home with no chance of a follow up??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And yes ok, I may have a date on the horizon which has given me the spring in the first place. Not going to put the mockers on it by saying any more. And no I have not forgotten the Dutchman but it's been nearly 3 months with no word. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even if he does contact me, I can't trust him not to vanish. So, life goes on.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37164851-6479709056958427040?l=bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/feeds/6479709056958427040/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37164851&amp;postID=6479709056958427040' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/6479709056958427040'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/6479709056958427040'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/2007/08/life-goes-on-being-flirt.html' title='Life goes on - being a flirt :)'/><author><name>The Real Bridget Jones</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06632021969926943756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_THtMxFjdEIs/RdMLHMB0y3I/AAAAAAAAABE/k_VhoJIIhwY/s320/cane.bmp'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37164851.post-186781065255542061</id><published>2007-07-27T18:45:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-07-27T22:03:28.449Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dutchman'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sad'/><title type='text'>Got an owie!</title><content type='html'>The weather was quite blustery this morning and as I loaded up the car the boot lid came down and hit me on the forehead :-(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've already got a bruise formed, it's a good job I have a fringe!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now I'm sat here listening to Olivia NJ's 'hopelessly devoted to you', Abba's 'one of us', Air Supply's 'all out of love' not to mention Damien Rice's 'cheer's darling' see what a bump on the head does to you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm feeling guilty for my arseholes to the lot of em statement, in case something has indeed happened so just in case.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JB, Ik hou heel veel van je en mis je ontzettend&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(hopefully I got the spelling right...I took it from an old text)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37164851-186781065255542061?l=bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/feeds/186781065255542061/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37164851&amp;postID=186781065255542061' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/186781065255542061'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/186781065255542061'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/2007/07/got-owie.html' title='Got an owie!'/><author><name>The Real Bridget Jones</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06632021969926943756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_THtMxFjdEIs/RdMLHMB0y3I/AAAAAAAAABE/k_VhoJIIhwY/s320/cane.bmp'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37164851.post-1274665651699828154</id><published>2007-07-24T18:03:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-07-24T18:08:33.523Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='gym'/><title type='text'>Tuesday</title><content type='html'>Still tired!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was up and on the road early, did a presentation then straight to the gym. Up until yesterday, this month I have burned the equivalent of 99 apples in cardio and lifted 24 elephants. Not bad huh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did another 400 calories and 4536 kgs today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will get fit, the weight is not shifting though, what more can I do? Any suggestions?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not a peep out of Dutchman or Coffee Man story of my life. I don't care. Arseholes to the lot of em!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37164851-1274665651699828154?l=bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/feeds/1274665651699828154/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37164851&amp;postID=1274665651699828154' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/1274665651699828154'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/1274665651699828154'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/2007/07/tuesday.html' title='Tuesday'/><author><name>The Real Bridget Jones</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06632021969926943756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_THtMxFjdEIs/RdMLHMB0y3I/AAAAAAAAABE/k_VhoJIIhwY/s320/cane.bmp'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37164851.post-4761333695852995186</id><published>2007-07-21T08:09:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-07-21T21:06:04.496Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='emotions'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dutchman'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Coffee Man'/><title type='text'>Saturday</title><content type='html'>Coffee Man is coming for lunch today........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, he came, we had lunch, I admit we both flirted, there were many meaningful looks, we had lunch, he stayed 3 hours, kissed me and left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really don't know how I feel or what to do. Am I feeling lonely and clutching at straws? Have I lost all hope of ever hearing from the Dutchman?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just don't know....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37164851-4761333695852995186?l=bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/feeds/4761333695852995186/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37164851&amp;postID=4761333695852995186' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/4761333695852995186'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/4761333695852995186'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/2007/07/saturday.html' title='Saturday'/><author><name>The Real Bridget Jones</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06632021969926943756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_THtMxFjdEIs/RdMLHMB0y3I/AAAAAAAAABE/k_VhoJIIhwY/s320/cane.bmp'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37164851.post-7784540882659165604</id><published>2007-07-19T18:11:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-07-19T18:16:14.410Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='gym'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><title type='text'>Memory</title><content type='html'>Do you ever get the feeling you have forgotten something? Something important? I've been like that all day today, just waiting for the you know what to hit the fan because I've missed something....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a bit of a catch up day though which was good, my brain is reeling from compiling all the data  I need for next week's meeting. If I see one more excel spreadsheet I shall not be responsible for my actions!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was back at the gym today - day 3 on the trot. And I managed to get my size 12 trousers on (does a happy dance)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37164851-7784540882659165604?l=bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/feeds/7784540882659165604/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37164851&amp;postID=7784540882659165604' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/7784540882659165604'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/7784540882659165604'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/2007/07/memory.html' title='Memory'/><author><name>The Real Bridget Jones</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06632021969926943756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_THtMxFjdEIs/RdMLHMB0y3I/AAAAAAAAABE/k_VhoJIIhwY/s320/cane.bmp'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37164851.post-8929321250605570308</id><published>2007-07-18T18:18:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-07-18T18:22:35.160Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='gym'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dutchman'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><title type='text'>Snoozy</title><content type='html'>I was working in London today but it actually turned out to be quite a short day. I went to the gym, back to the office to finish work then home. For the second day running I came home, sat down for '5 minutes' and woke up half hour later. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am really really tired at the minute. I'm waking up too early so by now I've had it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Must be the early morning sunshine - or the seagulls that insist on screeching outside of my open bedroom window......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still no word from Holland :(&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37164851-8929321250605570308?l=bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/feeds/8929321250605570308/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37164851&amp;postID=8929321250605570308' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/8929321250605570308'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/8929321250605570308'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/2007/07/snoozy.html' title='Snoozy'/><author><name>The Real Bridget Jones</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06632021969926943756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_THtMxFjdEIs/RdMLHMB0y3I/AAAAAAAAABE/k_VhoJIIhwY/s320/cane.bmp'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37164851.post-457287936974744798</id><published>2007-07-16T18:05:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-07-16T18:24:09.461Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>Welcome to the dark side....</title><content type='html'>I had to smile today, anyone reading this must think I'm a right miserable cow, bordering on manic depressive. One of my colleagues saw me trotting across the precinct from the office window and her first words to me were "you know you are always so cheerful and  and got a smile on your face, what's your secret?" if only she knew what a miserable mare I am (giggle)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reminds me of Rosie's recent enquiry about horoscopes and my comment on schizophrenia - you know I think I was only half joking. Whenever I have been at my lowest in life, and there have been a couple of really dark dark times, friends and particularly work colleagues have never known. I've always managed to hide it behind the little miss sunshine routine. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can usually fool myself too, the more chirpy and happy I act the more it does rub off. I think I use this as an outlet sometimes just to get rid of the destructive thoughts and gain perspective on the situation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's funny in a warped sort of way but I spend some of my free time talking to people who are in despair and contemplating taking their own lives. They never know that I have been there and had it not been for an accident of fate I wouldn't be here now. I've lost count of the flowers and cards that have been sent to the office I work from over the years thanking me for helping them get through. The stories they tell can be so very sad sometimes. It makes you realise the blessings you have in life. It should be me thanking them for showing me that the things that engulf me are petty and small. I am embarrassed sometimes that I am so selfish.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37164851-457287936974744798?l=bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/feeds/457287936974744798/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37164851&amp;postID=457287936974744798' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/457287936974744798'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/457287936974744798'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/2007/07/welcome-to-dark-side.html' title='Welcome to the dark side....'/><author><name>The Real Bridget Jones</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06632021969926943756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_THtMxFjdEIs/RdMLHMB0y3I/AAAAAAAAABE/k_VhoJIIhwY/s320/cane.bmp'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37164851.post-6827826137326315279</id><published>2007-07-14T17:24:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-07-14T17:37:22.116Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='gym'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sad'/><title type='text'>Exhausted!</title><content type='html'>I was in the gym early this morning and did my full circuit with some increased weight and I stepped up the cardio too, I was absolutely dripping by the time I had finished (nice visual huh?) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I came home and started work here, I laid a 40sq ft patio, restacked the 10 20kg bags of sand I still have left over - ready to lay slabs on the other side of the garden, and mowed the lawn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh I lost one pound too! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've probably put it back on though as I was starving after all that and cooked a Chinese. Less fattening than a takeaway but still not salad!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm still thinking about SR, or more truthfully about His current girlfriend, the one He told me would not be around for long. She is there this weekend again. Like she is every weekend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I suppose I'm feeling lonely, all my friends are hooked up and doing activities with partners and kids, and yes there is an open invitation but I feel the odd one out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What did I do so wrong that I am still on my own. Even the bastard has her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;shrugs&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37164851-6827826137326315279?l=bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/feeds/6827826137326315279/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37164851&amp;postID=6827826137326315279' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/6827826137326315279'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/6827826137326315279'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/2007/07/exhausted.html' title='Exhausted!'/><author><name>The Real Bridget Jones</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06632021969926943756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_THtMxFjdEIs/RdMLHMB0y3I/AAAAAAAAABE/k_VhoJIIhwY/s320/cane.bmp'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37164851.post-2924113209635073671</id><published>2007-07-12T18:03:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-07-12T18:08:27.747Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='gym'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='diet'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><title type='text'>Back to normal!</title><content type='html'>The queasiness past and I'm back to normal now, I don't know where that came from.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a productve day today, kept getting these flashes of inspiration, the boss loves me now! Keeps me below the parapet a while longer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to the gym and did my circuit and came home and made a mackerel salad. More salad! Yuk!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SR is still playing on my mind, the Dutchman is still missing. Nothing ever changes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37164851-2924113209635073671?l=bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/feeds/2924113209635073671/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37164851&amp;postID=2924113209635073671' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/2924113209635073671'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/2924113209635073671'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/2007/07/back-to-normal.html' title='Back to normal!'/><author><name>The Real Bridget Jones</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06632021969926943756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_THtMxFjdEIs/RdMLHMB0y3I/AAAAAAAAABE/k_VhoJIIhwY/s320/cane.bmp'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37164851.post-2549784226812177368</id><published>2007-07-11T17:11:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-07-11T17:12:59.381Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ill'/><title type='text'>Feeling icky!</title><content type='html'>That's it really, got a headache and an upset stomach. I never get an upset stomach :(&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37164851-2549784226812177368?l=bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/feeds/2549784226812177368/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37164851&amp;postID=2549784226812177368' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/2549784226812177368'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/2549784226812177368'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/2007/07/feeling-icky.html' title='Feeling icky!'/><author><name>The Real Bridget Jones</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06632021969926943756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_THtMxFjdEIs/RdMLHMB0y3I/AAAAAAAAABE/k_VhoJIIhwY/s320/cane.bmp'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37164851.post-8040737269437523927</id><published>2007-07-10T18:00:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-07-10T18:05:35.199Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='gym'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='uni'/><title type='text'>Too late now</title><content type='html'>Well, I've just posted the assignment off, I held fire because I wanted to check the cost benefit analysis out, I'm glad I did as I've been able to put more detail in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got 75% in the assessment yesterday, still a credit but not as good as last year's. But hey, as long as I pass. I would rather have got higher though. But it was  a credit still. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to the gym today and half killed myself. It's not doing any good though, I'm eating like an anorexic rabbit and exercising my socks off but still the weight is not coming off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What more can I do?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37164851-8040737269437523927?l=bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/feeds/8040737269437523927/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37164851&amp;postID=8040737269437523927' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/8040737269437523927'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/8040737269437523927'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/2007/07/too-late-now.html' title='Too late now'/><author><name>The Real Bridget Jones</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06632021969926943756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_THtMxFjdEIs/RdMLHMB0y3I/AAAAAAAAABE/k_VhoJIIhwY/s320/cane.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37164851.post-7300391042900064881</id><published>2007-07-08T18:27:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-07-08T18:32:00.279Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dutchman'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='uni'/><title type='text'>One down 3 to go!</title><content type='html'>I went to the gym again today, two days running, I won't get there tomorrow though as it is my kid brother's birthday so I shall go and see him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I came back, fell asleep on the sofa, ooops!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On waking - confused and bewildered I cracked on and finished my assignment. I have an assessment tomorrow too :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I'll be winging it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to have a chill out evening now, I'm really tired, don't know why?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still no word from the Dutchman :(&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37164851-7300391042900064881?l=bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/feeds/7300391042900064881/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37164851&amp;postID=7300391042900064881' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/7300391042900064881'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/7300391042900064881'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/2007/07/one-down-3-to-go.html' title='One down 3 to go!'/><author><name>The Real Bridget Jones</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06632021969926943756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_THtMxFjdEIs/RdMLHMB0y3I/AAAAAAAAABE/k_VhoJIIhwY/s320/cane.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37164851.post-8783139953948892698</id><published>2007-07-07T13:19:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-07-07T13:25:40.663Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Purple'/><title type='text'>I'm  halfway there.....</title><content type='html'>When I Am Old I Shall Wear Purple&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I am an old woman I shall wear &lt;em&gt;purple&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With a red hat that doesn't go, and doesn't suit me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I shall spend my pension on &lt;em&gt;brandy &lt;/em&gt;and summer gloves&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And satin sandals, and say we've no money for butter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I shall sit down on the pavement when I'm tired&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And run my stick along the public railings&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;And make up for the sobrietry of my youth&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I shall go out in my slippers in the rain&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And pick flowers in other people's gardens&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And learn to spit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can wear terrible shirts and grow more fat&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And eat three pounds of sausages at a go&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Or only bread and pickles for a week&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And hoard pens and pencils and beer mats and things in boxes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But now we must have clothes that keep us dry&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And pay our rent and not swear in the street&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And set a good example for the children.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We must have friends to dinner and read the papers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But maybe I ought to practice a little now?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So people who know me are not too shocked and surprised&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When suddenly I am old, and start to wear purple.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~Jenny Jacobs ~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Italicized parts are where I am practising now!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37164851-8783139953948892698?l=bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/feeds/8783139953948892698/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37164851&amp;postID=8783139953948892698' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/8783139953948892698'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/8783139953948892698'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/2007/07/im-halfway-there.html' title='I&apos;m  halfway there.....'/><author><name>The Real Bridget Jones</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06632021969926943756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_THtMxFjdEIs/RdMLHMB0y3I/AAAAAAAAABE/k_VhoJIIhwY/s320/cane.bmp'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37164851.post-4535354828915337966</id><published>2007-07-05T18:28:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-07-05T18:41:24.812Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Happening'/><title type='text'>Good news / bad news</title><content type='html'>Well, despite 1500 people in between and his meeting being in another building, I found a certain someone by my desk. As the door is nearby and he had not walked past and when he left he went straight out, would I be wrong to assume he sought me out?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We got chatting, I didn't flirt, although I was accused of 'twinkling' today, but then I had been 'twinkling' since I walked in the door so nobody put 2 and 2 together. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I (subtlely I think) asked how his journey home had been. He had not got back until late either, so I asked if his dinner was ready as he walked in the door, he laughed and said you don't know my gf! Damn damn damn! He then gave me a 'look' and smiled. I blushed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He then invited me to his site and offered to take me out for lunch. Our areas never collide, there is never a need for my dept to interact with his.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what was I to do but accept!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He kissed my cheek goodbye (not uncommon within the organisation) and my colleague came over and stated that she didn't realise that we knew each other, (they work together often) I told her that we had only met the day before to which she complained that she never got a kiss goodbye and they'd known each other years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is such an odd situation. He has such a D personality and the s in me just bows down to it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37164851-4535354828915337966?l=bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/feeds/4535354828915337966/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37164851&amp;postID=4535354828915337966' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/4535354828915337966'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/4535354828915337966'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/2007/07/good-news-bad-news.html' title='Good news / bad news'/><author><name>The Real Bridget Jones</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06632021969926943756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_THtMxFjdEIs/RdMLHMB0y3I/AAAAAAAAABE/k_VhoJIIhwY/s320/cane.bmp'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37164851.post-7572103323041361775</id><published>2007-07-04T19:51:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-07-04T20:26:22.875Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Happening'/><title type='text'>What the hell happened there?????</title><content type='html'>Ok, an odd post from me but it's been a funny, odd, nice day. there are a couple of things that are needed to explain it though and put it into context.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have always been a sucker for tall (6'4"ish), blond men. Blue eyed, broad shouldered. Good physique, no face furniture. Within 5 years or so of me in age. I am very predictable and rarely look twice at any other. If I do, then it is tall dark and handsome!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wasn't looking forward to the day, I was acting as exec support for a regional manager. Sitting there, smiling, reinforcing what he was saying to his team. I knew I had a 200 mile journey after this long meeting and I knew that it would be my second trip round rush hour London. (It took me 2.5 hours just to get there and then a further 4 to my hotel!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, to just set the scene, my work persona is a million miles to my off duty. I have always worked in a man's world, usually the only woman. I am seen as tough, in control, decisive, authoritative, possibly even authoritarian, I am 100% confident when I speak they shut up and listen, I am (I believe) well respected. If I go into one of the 300 sites and say "please change that" it gets changed. I'm not saying this to puff myself up and I hope it doesn't sound arrogant, it's just the way it is, what I trained for years for. My nickname (so I've heard) is the ice-maiden as they can't get their own way by flirting with me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So today, I'm prepared for a non too thrilling day. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was to be a guest speaker, one to whom I have spoken but never met. He works out of the welsh main office.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He greeted me with the standard professional handshake and as he smiled - he looked me in the eyes and I felt nervous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He is the same grade as me, not senior - no reason at all for this reaction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He gave his talk, and every time he looked over, I hope I gave the cool professional smile that I reserve for guest speakers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During the break, he came over to talk to me. In the next 5 minutes I knew his (professional) life story and a few of his hobbies. (We share one) I was almost interviewing him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was so darn nervous it is untrue. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The rest of the team went back through to the conference room, he was now leaving so as the regional manager was setting up his presentation, it was only courteous of me to do the formal "thank you and safe journey" part. I proffered my hand for the formal handshake, which he took in both of his, and held, enclosed, for a moment or 10 longer than the normal formal handshake. Nobody has ever done that to me in a professional scenario. I couldn't meet his gaze. Normally I am the queen of eyecontact, yet he held my gaze to the point I had to look down. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He left with a "goodbye lovely"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was at work, and in work mode. This man had me feeling that I should be kneeling in front of him and waiting for instruction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wanted to be kneeling in front of him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He is about 5'8", with a bit of a belly, and a goatee beard. Late 40s early 50s. Glasses, (doesn't wear them all the time) and tattoos. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So far opposite the type of man that physically attracts me it is untrue! He is however amazingly intelligent and fluent in 5 languages. Ex-special forces. Probably how he commanded my attention?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He is also working from the same building as me tomorrow (so are 1500 other people so I doubt I'll see him)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This does not happen to me at work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Blimey!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh and no word from the Dutchman&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37164851-7572103323041361775?l=bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/feeds/7572103323041361775/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37164851&amp;postID=7572103323041361775' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/7572103323041361775'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/7572103323041361775'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/2007/07/what-hell-happened-there.html' title='What the hell happened there?????'/><author><name>The Real Bridget Jones</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06632021969926943756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_THtMxFjdEIs/RdMLHMB0y3I/AAAAAAAAABE/k_VhoJIIhwY/s320/cane.bmp'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37164851.post-4436220559934995816</id><published>2007-07-03T21:01:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-07-03T21:04:46.834Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='confused'/><title type='text'>I wish I knew!!!</title><content type='html'>Today was SR's daughter's birthday so I rang to wish her a happy birthday. First time I have spoken to her since the Xmas incident. She seemed to be happy to hear from me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Long pause&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thoughtful silence&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Someone has accessed Dutchman's e-mail as the mail I sent early last month was read. I've sent another asking to know if he is alive or not. Perhaps I shouldn't have??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Confused&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37164851-4436220559934995816?l=bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/feeds/4436220559934995816/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37164851&amp;postID=4436220559934995816' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/4436220559934995816'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/4436220559934995816'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/2007/07/i-wish-i-knew.html' title='I wish I knew!!!'/><author><name>The Real Bridget Jones</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06632021969926943756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_THtMxFjdEIs/RdMLHMB0y3I/AAAAAAAAABE/k_VhoJIIhwY/s320/cane.bmp'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37164851.post-4174688817310517868</id><published>2007-07-02T18:38:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-07-02T18:42:11.539Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='miserable'/><title type='text'>Back to work</title><content type='html'>I had little flashes of inspiration today for my assignment so that is promising - time is running out!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Got chronic PMT, well I think it's PMT, better than saying I'm a miserable cow for no reason. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Went to the gym again today. Three days running again. Yay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Grump!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God I'm so boring!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37164851-4174688817310517868?l=bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/feeds/4174688817310517868/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37164851&amp;postID=4174688817310517868' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/4174688817310517868'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/4174688817310517868'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/2007/07/back-to-work.html' title='Back to work'/><author><name>The Real Bridget Jones</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06632021969926943756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_THtMxFjdEIs/RdMLHMB0y3I/AAAAAAAAABE/k_VhoJIIhwY/s320/cane.bmp'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37164851.post-6106595024528850223</id><published>2007-07-01T17:38:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-07-01T17:46:38.270Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dutchman'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='miserable'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Coffee Man'/><title type='text'>Shrugs</title><content type='html'>Well, Coffee Man, as ever had other priorities crop up so he didn't visit. In all honesty I didn't expect him too. After all I do live 40 odd miles from him and that would involve him putting himself out. It would also take him too far away from his beloved friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a more difficult personal note, instead of texts to the Dutchman bouncing back undelivered after three days, it bounced straight back yesterday. When I rang it the message declared that I had dialled an incorrect number. His phone is now out of service. He's not at home. I can only assume he is in Holland or dead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm hurting pretty bad at this. I've been all 'oh whatever' about the situation. Very much if it's going to happen it will. And yes I know he has done this before but that doesn't make it any easier if in three months time he turns up again. I'm in bits with it all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't get to grips with my uni assignment. It just reads really twee and not enough external references that I can get to fit despite having read tons for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What a totally shit weekend, and I know I have so much in my life to be thankful for. But, ... oh I don't know, I need to shake myself out of it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37164851-6106595024528850223?l=bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/feeds/6106595024528850223/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37164851&amp;postID=6106595024528850223' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/6106595024528850223'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/6106595024528850223'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/2007/07/shrugs.html' title='Shrugs'/><author><name>The Real Bridget Jones</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06632021969926943756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_THtMxFjdEIs/RdMLHMB0y3I/AAAAAAAAABE/k_VhoJIIhwY/s320/cane.bmp'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37164851.post-9168811657260006100</id><published>2007-06-28T19:28:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-06-28T19:36:47.847Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tired'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dutchman'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='busy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Coffee Man'/><title type='text'>Shattered</title><content type='html'>After a 16 hour day yesterday culminating with a drive through the flood zones, it was a repeat performance today but without the drive. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a full day I discovered that one of my colleagues has booked a meeting tomorrow different to the one scheduled. He always does this to me as he knows that I will put in all the hours god sends just so he can't be smarmy and patronising. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;It always seems to be an I lose he wins situation, the man is a twonk!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Coffee man may be coming over Saturday, to see the new car and conservatory.... I'll leave that train of thought there, I don't know where to take it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dutchman is still missing...........&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37164851-9168811657260006100?l=bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/feeds/9168811657260006100/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37164851&amp;postID=9168811657260006100' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/9168811657260006100'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/9168811657260006100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/2007/06/shattered.html' title='Shattered'/><author><name>The Real Bridget Jones</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06632021969926943756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_THtMxFjdEIs/RdMLHMB0y3I/AAAAAAAAABE/k_VhoJIIhwY/s320/cane.bmp'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37164851.post-1871328006476747638</id><published>2007-06-26T20:40:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-06-26T20:46:04.266Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='gym'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><title type='text'>Networking</title><content type='html'>I had a little bit of a different day today, I had to visit a supplier and do the networking thing, it was a nice change to the normal. Back in hi-vis jackets and steel toe capped shoes. Not quite my normal suit and heels.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I popped back to the office and sorted out a new pc programme that one of the guys requested, I'm getting quite good at programming.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Came home and wrote a letter to the builders, I'm still waiting for a cheque that has been in the post for a fortnight! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In between times another visit to the gym, I lost a pound today , yay!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and hayfever stinks!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37164851-1871328006476747638?l=bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/feeds/1871328006476747638/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37164851&amp;postID=1871328006476747638' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/1871328006476747638'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/1871328006476747638'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/2007/06/networking.html' title='Networking'/><author><name>The Real Bridget Jones</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06632021969926943756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_THtMxFjdEIs/RdMLHMB0y3I/AAAAAAAAABE/k_VhoJIIhwY/s320/cane.bmp'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37164851.post-203992696328416948</id><published>2007-06-25T19:40:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-06-25T19:45:24.560Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tired'/><title type='text'>Productive day? No!</title><content type='html'>The day started really well today, I got loads done this morning and then the engineer arrived to do what was a simple job. Wrong! He took the whole broadband and rf system down, so from 2.30 I was twiddling my thumbs. At least all the filing is done now though. I didn't need a pc for that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to the gym this evening and did circuit training. Everything hurts now and my inhaler has never been used as much. So that is 4 successive gym days, still not lost any weight though :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still no word from the Dutchman either.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37164851-203992696328416948?l=bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/feeds/203992696328416948/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37164851&amp;postID=203992696328416948' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/203992696328416948'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/203992696328416948'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/2007/06/productive-day-no.html' title='Productive day? No!'/><author><name>The Real Bridget Jones</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06632021969926943756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_THtMxFjdEIs/RdMLHMB0y3I/AAAAAAAAABE/k_VhoJIIhwY/s320/cane.bmp'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37164851.post-7218663058063383090</id><published>2007-06-23T20:29:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-06-23T20:37:38.244Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='happy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tired'/><title type='text'>Whirlwind</title><content type='html'>I awoke in one of those moods today. I had the bed stripped and laundered and all of the other bits and pieces washed and on the line.  I went to the gym again (2 days running) came home and cleaned the house top to bottom, I spoke to my parents who were driving home from their holiday and invited them to dinner and then prepared a 3 course meal for them (and my brother who has been fending for himself for a week and was looking malnourished.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I'm now tired and happy and off to bed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37164851-7218663058063383090?l=bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/feeds/7218663058063383090/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37164851&amp;postID=7218663058063383090' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/7218663058063383090'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/7218663058063383090'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/2007/06/whirlwind.html' title='Whirlwind'/><author><name>The Real Bridget Jones</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06632021969926943756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_THtMxFjdEIs/RdMLHMB0y3I/AAAAAAAAABE/k_VhoJIIhwY/s320/cane.bmp'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37164851.post-1678231228567603260</id><published>2007-06-21T19:05:00.001Z</published><updated>2007-06-21T19:14:36.593Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Home'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dutchman'/><title type='text'>Drying off</title><content type='html'>Made it home from Wales via Somerset, guess which idiot booked an appointment in deepest darkest Somerset when the Glastonbury festival is just starting. I spent the morning swamped by multi coloured Volkswagon camper vans. Made me smile though even if I was a little late. Oops!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I decided to compound it by driving home. I set the sat nav and trundled off, right past Stonehenge during the summer solstice......  hmmmm, is someone up there trying to tell me I live life at too much of a rush?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got home and did all of my laundry, hung it out and got it almost dry, pretty good since the last three days have been spent dodging torrential rain and mudslides.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm trying to be positive. Dutchman has done this before and then after I have given up hope I get a phone call as if nothing has happened. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm trying to concoct a plan for if he does. What do I do? What do I do?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've said before that he is such a livewire, unpredictable, crushingly embarrassing in his openess, totally the opposite to the secure, safe guy I need in my life. But he has always given me butterflies, the type of thrill you get from something dangerous. Can I see myself walking into the sunset i my twilight years? Probably not. This is all probably irelevant, he may never return.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37164851-1678231228567603260?l=bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/feeds/1678231228567603260/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37164851&amp;postID=1678231228567603260' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/1678231228567603260'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/1678231228567603260'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/2007/06/drying-off.html' title='Drying off'/><author><name>The Real Bridget Jones</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06632021969926943756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_THtMxFjdEIs/RdMLHMB0y3I/AAAAAAAAABE/k_VhoJIIhwY/s320/cane.bmp'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37164851.post-6579015610420712230</id><published>2007-06-18T20:20:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-06-18T20:25:10.051Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dutchman'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sad'/><title type='text'>Welsh Wales</title><content type='html'>I had a great weekend with my parents, Cumbria and Yorkshire are beautiful places, so rugged and unspoilt. I love seeing my parents together, they have a wonderful relationship but it just emphasised the fact that I felt really lonely this weekend. I've still not heard fom the Dutchman. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm scared something has happened. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm in Wales, the connection here is awful, very frustrating but I feel that way about everything today, like PMT but not. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The place is lovely though, very wet and wild.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37164851-6579015610420712230?l=bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/feeds/6579015610420712230/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37164851&amp;postID=6579015610420712230' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/6579015610420712230'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/6579015610420712230'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/2007/06/welsh-wales.html' title='Welsh Wales'/><author><name>The Real Bridget Jones</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06632021969926943756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_THtMxFjdEIs/RdMLHMB0y3I/AAAAAAAAABE/k_VhoJIIhwY/s320/cane.bmp'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37164851.post-2859849611563482739</id><published>2007-06-14T19:39:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-06-14T19:46:47.350Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tired'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='unsettled'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sad'/><title type='text'>Busy day</title><content type='html'>The day started very unsettled, I woke with a start, I had been dreaming that I was at some form of a dinner party in the middle of the street, I'm not sure where it was but the architecture was fabulous.  Next thing I know I'm reading a letter or an e-mail, I'm not sure which, it was from the Dutchman saying that he had met someone and he was not coming back - ever, I ran away in tears and that's when I woke, still upset.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I pulled myself together and the workmen arrived. The conservatory is all finished now. It looks good. I brought the big desk downstairs (all by myself!) and laid the flooring too. It's really taken shape now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I then went to the gym and did a couple of classes. I did bodybalance, bodyattack and bodypump. I now feel body weary!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm away with my parents at a family do this weekend then straight to Wales so I may be a while!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still no word, I'm off to bed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37164851-2859849611563482739?l=bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/feeds/2859849611563482739/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37164851&amp;postID=2859849611563482739' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/2859849611563482739'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/2859849611563482739'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/2007/06/busy-day.html' title='Busy day'/><author><name>The Real Bridget Jones</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06632021969926943756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_THtMxFjdEIs/RdMLHMB0y3I/AAAAAAAAABE/k_VhoJIIhwY/s320/cane.bmp'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37164851.post-4733988489580780691</id><published>2007-06-12T20:38:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-06-12T20:49:06.661Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='gym'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tired'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='busy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Coffee Man'/><title type='text'>I think I'm going to die!</title><content type='html'>I've just had my gym programme review. Did I insult that man's mother? I look like a beetroot, I'm wobbling like a mad cow and starved, I have this craving for a squidgy cream cake!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've just flumped to write this and Coffee Man text, first time in weeks so I've answered him, very light and airy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The conservatory is lacking it's windows and roof but the framework is there. I've been out and got some flooring too. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've pulled together some information for my assignment so all is well with the world, well almost. Still no word from the Dutchman :(&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37164851-4733988489580780691?l=bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/feeds/4733988489580780691/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37164851&amp;postID=4733988489580780691' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/4733988489580780691'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/4733988489580780691'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/2007/06/i-think-im-going-to-die.html' title='I think I&apos;m going to die!'/><author><name>The Real Bridget Jones</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06632021969926943756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_THtMxFjdEIs/RdMLHMB0y3I/AAAAAAAAABE/k_VhoJIIhwY/s320/cane.bmp'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37164851.post-3724402864845073854</id><published>2007-06-11T17:04:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-06-11T17:11:36.241Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='frustrated'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Grumpy'/><title type='text'>Grump!</title><content type='html'>The builders finally arrived at 11am, I had rang their office at 9.30 and was told they were on their way and should be no later than 10. They had a chat and a fag and started work at 11.30. After their lunch break, they came to tell me that they would be back tomorrow as they would not have time to finih the back of the house. This was at about 3pm. They left at 3.30. Now had they got on with it and it took the same amount of time as the front (there was less to do so technically should not have taken that long) then they would have finished by now. They are forecasting rain for the rest of the week. They cannot work in the rain obviously and I have taken the week off work.  What's the chances of them finishing this week? Slim, very slim or non-existant. The problem is if you say anything it will take twice as long as they prove the point, grrrrrrr. So frustrating!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I started to look at the assignment today. Yuk!  shall be making phone calls this week I think for assistance,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He still has not rang :(&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37164851-3724402864845073854?l=bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/feeds/3724402864845073854/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37164851&amp;postID=3724402864845073854' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/3724402864845073854'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/3724402864845073854'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/2007/06/grump.html' title='Grump!'/><author><name>The Real Bridget Jones</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06632021969926943756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_THtMxFjdEIs/RdMLHMB0y3I/AAAAAAAAABE/k_VhoJIIhwY/s320/cane.bmp'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37164851.post-5368470657678443329</id><published>2007-06-09T21:35:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-06-09T21:42:08.932Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='boring'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sad'/><title type='text'>Disjointed day</title><content type='html'>I had a lie in this morning, I was so tired and didn't get up until 8.30, very late! Then I went to the gym to my new class. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I picked up some glazing stuff for the shed, the window cracked in bad weather a couple of weeks ago. Then I popped down to see my parents. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I came home and put the new window in, feeling qite proud that I managed it all by myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that was my day, boring huh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still no word!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37164851-5368470657678443329?l=bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/feeds/5368470657678443329/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37164851&amp;postID=5368470657678443329' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/5368470657678443329'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/5368470657678443329'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/2007/06/disjointed-day.html' title='Disjointed day'/><author><name>The Real Bridget Jones</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06632021969926943756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_THtMxFjdEIs/RdMLHMB0y3I/AAAAAAAAABE/k_VhoJIIhwY/s320/cane.bmp'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37164851.post-3561418852386910241</id><published>2007-06-08T18:23:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-06-08T18:30:21.205Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='study'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stupid'/><title type='text'>Dopey day</title><content type='html'>I am so thick! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I trundled off to work in the torrential rain, though abominable traffic,  found a parking space, went to get my laptop out of the back, only to discover I had forgotten it. So, I shot into work, picked up some papers I needed and went and worked from home for a couple of hours before going back in to photocopy and prep the stuff I needed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I came home and moved 200 odd bricks, from the front of the house to the back and up a flight of stairs. I have now realised that where I had planned to start work is right where I have the great wall of England, positioned there by yours truly. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I've decided to give in and chill out. I did manage to finish my last uni workbook though!!! Yeah!!! (yes I know - girly girly swot swot)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still no word!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37164851-3561418852386910241?l=bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/feeds/3561418852386910241/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37164851&amp;postID=3561418852386910241' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/3561418852386910241'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/3561418852386910241'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/2007/06/dopey-day.html' title='Dopey day'/><author><name>The Real Bridget Jones</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06632021969926943756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_THtMxFjdEIs/RdMLHMB0y3I/AAAAAAAAABE/k_VhoJIIhwY/s320/cane.bmp'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37164851.post-8154369957997643118</id><published>2007-06-07T19:02:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-06-07T19:07:04.016Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sad'/><title type='text'>Coming out the other side</title><content type='html'>It's been a hard few days. But, resilience is key. I have two options, cope or don't. And as I am little miss fixit, the one to whom everyone turns when life falls apart, well, I have to cope don't I?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I've spent a couple of days sulking, brooding, snivelling and feeling sorry for myself and now I need to pick myself up and sort myself out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Brave words huh? Now I've just got to get on with it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still no word from the Dutchman&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37164851-8154369957997643118?l=bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/feeds/8154369957997643118/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37164851&amp;postID=8154369957997643118' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/8154369957997643118'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/8154369957997643118'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/2007/06/coming-out-other-side.html' title='Coming out the other side'/><author><name>The Real Bridget Jones</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06632021969926943756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_THtMxFjdEIs/RdMLHMB0y3I/AAAAAAAAABE/k_VhoJIIhwY/s320/cane.bmp'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37164851.post-8045669533136705024</id><published>2007-06-05T19:53:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-06-05T20:06:36.698Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hurting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='empty'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='angry'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sad'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='miserable'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='lonely'/><title type='text'>Breaking my heart</title><content type='html'>SR hasn't rung, or text, or e-mailed. Nothing to say I or the baby ever existed in His life. In fact He took my replacement - the one He was screwing around with out for dinner. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sure they had a lovely time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why the hell can I not move on. I hate what He did to me. I hate the way He made me feel, I hate the fact that I let Him treat me that way. I never really really loved Him. But there is a string there I cannot cut. More than once I was going to leave Him, but He got in first. He hurt me so badly and yet I still crave His attention. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You must think I'm mad. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He is half the man (in all ways) that the Dutchman is. Don't get me wrong , I still love the Dutchman, I always have and probably always will, whatever happens. We had something magical. But there is some evil thread linking me to Him but not the other way round. If I died tomorrow He would just shrug.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know if it was just the baby that makes me feel this way about Him? So many times over the last two days I have picked up the phone to call Him, I am so proud of myself that I haven't though. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still no word from the Dutchman either. I had a really odd feeling this morning too at 7.15 that there had been a death somewhere, I'm just waiting to hear whose though. I wish he would just let me know he is ok. He's a bugger for doing this!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37164851-8045669533136705024?l=bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/feeds/8045669533136705024/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37164851&amp;postID=8045669533136705024' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/8045669533136705024'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/8045669533136705024'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/2007/06/breaking-my-heart.html' title='Breaking my heart'/><author><name>The Real Bridget Jones</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06632021969926943756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_THtMxFjdEIs/RdMLHMB0y3I/AAAAAAAAABE/k_VhoJIIhwY/s320/cane.bmp'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37164851.post-2406336680741908290</id><published>2007-06-03T18:25:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-06-03T18:35:27.500Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='study'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='worried'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sad'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='baby'/><title type='text'>Miserable</title><content type='html'>Yet again my thoughts have been with SR today, thinking this time last year I was doing x,y,z.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The reason it is so fresh in my mind is that tomorrow is the anniversary of my last miscarriage. I remember that weekend so very well, He was so tender and caring, we had to make the decision whether to have an abortion (His preference) or trying to proceed with the pregnancy. Owing to a medical complication it would be an extremely problematical pregnancy. The decision was taken away. He bought me a plant on the day, a really unusual one, as a memorial, this was even before I lost the baby as the sensible thing to do was to have a termination. But we went out to the Royal Horticultural Gardens for the day and ended up in their nursery. He bought 2 identical plants, one for me and one for Him.  I lost the baby at 1 am the following day. The funny thing is the plant is just coming into flower, it didn't flower for  a couple of weeks last year but it is going to be at its height tomorrow. I wonder how His is doing?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other than that I have spent the weekend doing chores around the house and garden, and lots of study. I had planned for 4 hours but I have done nearer 7.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've still not heard from the Dutchman.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37164851-2406336680741908290?l=bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/feeds/2406336680741908290/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37164851&amp;postID=2406336680741908290' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/2406336680741908290'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/2406336680741908290'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/2007/06/miserable.html' title='Miserable'/><author><name>The Real Bridget Jones</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06632021969926943756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_THtMxFjdEIs/RdMLHMB0y3I/AAAAAAAAABE/k_VhoJIIhwY/s320/cane.bmp'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37164851.post-4731312390180004405</id><published>2007-06-02T19:31:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-06-02T19:40:12.621Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='History'/><title type='text'>And then on a totally different subject....</title><content type='html'>Following a discussion on another blog (yes Stagger, I will work out how to link!!!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A little history of personal, intimate domestic appliances guaranteed to reduce (induce?) hysteria in the gentle sex.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.samsloan.com/vibrator.htm"&gt;http://www.samsloan.com/vibrator.htm&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37164851-4731312390180004405?l=bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://www.samsloan.com/vibrator.htm' title='And then on a totally different subject....'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/feeds/4731312390180004405/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37164851&amp;postID=4731312390180004405' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/4731312390180004405'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/4731312390180004405'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/2007/06/and-then-on-totally-different-subject.html' title='And then on a totally different subject....'/><author><name>The Real Bridget Jones</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06632021969926943756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_THtMxFjdEIs/RdMLHMB0y3I/AAAAAAAAABE/k_VhoJIIhwY/s320/cane.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37164851.post-5267147626801352294</id><published>2007-06-01T18:34:00.001Z</published><updated>2007-06-01T18:40:31.825Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dutchman'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='worried'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fat'/><title type='text'>Keeping the faith</title><content type='html'>Well, he promised we would have coffee this week and I've not heard from him since.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I know he was driving to Holland on Friday, I know his dad is very unwell. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His texts have not been read and his phone is switched off. Now, if he was ignoring me the phone would ring and go to answer and not just straight to voicemail. Texts sent at various times at least one would get through. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now if he was planning a quick trip it would be no surprise that he forgot his phone charger, it may even be flat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See, rational, calm. Trying to stave off thoughts that I scared him off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've signed up to an 8 week programme at the gym starting Saturday week. That should keep my concentration off men,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mutters&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37164851-5267147626801352294?l=bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/feeds/5267147626801352294/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37164851&amp;postID=5267147626801352294' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/5267147626801352294'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/5267147626801352294'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/2007/06/keeping-faith.html' title='Keeping the faith'/><author><name>The Real Bridget Jones</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06632021969926943756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_THtMxFjdEIs/RdMLHMB0y3I/AAAAAAAAABE/k_VhoJIIhwY/s320/cane.bmp'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37164851.post-3571620645858997613</id><published>2007-05-30T19:03:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-05-30T19:07:36.833Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='study'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fat'/><title type='text'>Big girly swat!</title><content type='html'>And then some!!! I'm not only completely up to date with my studies I've done a bit extra to make up for the fact that I know next week will be a struggle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;feeling smug - fat but smug.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need to get my weight back under control. Since leaving CM I've put on half a stone ....eeeeeeeek!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A combination of working away and comfort eating. So I've been on the salad today, mmmm lovely (yuk yuk yuk)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a friend broke up from her man yesterday so we have been planning a little escape and girly treat. Should be fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel really random today.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37164851-3571620645858997613?l=bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/feeds/3571620645858997613/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37164851&amp;postID=3571620645858997613' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/3571620645858997613'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/3571620645858997613'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/2007/05/big-girly-swat.html' title='Big girly swat!'/><author><name>The Real Bridget Jones</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06632021969926943756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_THtMxFjdEIs/RdMLHMB0y3I/AAAAAAAAABE/k_VhoJIIhwY/s320/cane.bmp'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37164851.post-3040808695238405520</id><published>2007-05-28T17:59:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-05-28T18:15:48.768Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='study'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='busy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='House'/><title type='text'>Yesterday</title><content type='html'>I went for a coffee with a friend yesterday, or more honestly a friend of a friend, yes I was set up on a blind date.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have similar interests, a geeky hobby, we spent approximately 5 hours talking about the geeky hobby, well he did, (I rarely even mention it on here so you can imaging that it is something I enjoy but am not anal about) the other couple of hours was mainly about him, the problem with women, and people watching, don't get me wrong, we had a laugh, discovered more mutual friends  than I realised we had but he is not Mr Wright (yes there is a pun intended in the spelling - just think Orville) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the things he said he disliked in women was sarcasm, he may as well have left at that point, but he may become a friend further down the line, I thanked him for an interesting afternoon, I was very honest and explained that I was not physically attracted to him but found him interesting to chat with and a lively companion. I don't believe in letting people live in a hope that can never be fulfilled. That may be wrong of me but I would rather someone was honest with me so that I didn't sit waiting by a phone. (yes, I am! - waiting that is)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so on to today......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There were loads of things I had planned for yesterday but for obvious reasons they didn't get done so I cracked on today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first was to put a cover over my shed window which had broken in the weathers. I managed to do that in the weathers and somehow it is still on! It has been torrential rain and strong winds all day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I sorted out all of the paperwork that has collected for the last x amount of time being put off and put off. It took ages, I really must keep on top of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I did a really thorough house clean, top to bottom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lastly it was time to catch up on my studies, I had to do 9 sessions to catch up as I have been remiss over the weekend, (well it was my birthday!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am quite pleased though as it is induction day at Uni tomorrow for the start of the new year and I have already done 7 workbooks with 4 left to do of the first module. If I can get it done before the first workshop it will leave me clear to concentrate on my assignment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to try and maintain this through all 4 modules if I can. This will involve approximately 3 sessions per day every day. Not always feasible so sometimes  I have to play catch up like today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now, it's time to chill......&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37164851-3040808695238405520?l=bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/feeds/3040808695238405520/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37164851&amp;postID=3040808695238405520' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/3040808695238405520'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/3040808695238405520'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/2007/05/yesterday.html' title='Yesterday'/><author><name>The Real Bridget Jones</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06632021969926943756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_THtMxFjdEIs/RdMLHMB0y3I/AAAAAAAAABE/k_VhoJIIhwY/s320/cane.bmp'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37164851.post-4503311649502968655</id><published>2007-05-27T21:49:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-05-27T21:51:51.244Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tired'/><title type='text'>Sunday</title><content type='html'>I've just got in from an afternoon coffee with a friend, hmm 7 hours, oops, I never did get all my chores done. It was an interesting afternoon though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good job tomorrow is a Bank Holiday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm really tired and I have a headache now so I'm off to bed,&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37164851-4503311649502968655?l=bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/feeds/4503311649502968655/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37164851&amp;postID=4503311649502968655' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/4503311649502968655'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37164851/posts/default/4503311649502968655'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bridgetjonesexists.blogspot.com/2007/05/sunday.html' title='Sunday'/><author><name>The Real Bridget Jones</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06632021969926943756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_THtMxFjdEIs/RdMLHMB0y3I/AAAAAAAAABE/k_VhoJIIhwY/s320/cane.bmp'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
