I just went dashing out my door to dive in the car and get ice-cream from the Burger King drive through.

It should have been fine but not expecting to see anyone I was wearing a brown cap, an over-sized stripey rugby top, pj shorts, black sock and yellow shoes. Who do I run into but my neighbour with the sports car, the good job and the endless supply of young, beautiful women. And to top it all off he literally laughed out loud at the sight of me. Hmmmmm.....fantastic!

Due to an up and coming birthday I had to go shopping - not my favourite pass-time. Now it wasn't that bad until there I was clutching a purchase when the cashier asks me, "Do you want to save 15% today?". You all know where this is going, right?!

Now I hate this. I know they have targets to meet and it's their job but who gets them to ask you like that. What are you meant to say?! 'No thanks, I hate saving money.' I made the huge mistake once of saying, 'of course' only for them to carry on with the whole storecard speel making me 10 minutes late for a meeting. I have quickly learned a new habit of saying, 'no' but somehow you still feel like an idiot because again I have to ask - who wouldn't want to save 15%?! It's a tricky one particularly when I was looked at after like I was crazy. I was buying a vest top! It was £6! I could spare the £1! Plus in all honesty I know fine well the minute I sign up to a storecard it's like cutting a huge hole in my pocket. I've been there before. It's a dangerous route when you're presented with what seems like endless credit for Oasis and you're blissfully unaware that they're robbing you blind in interest. Financially suave I certainly wasn't!

After I craftily dodged the storecard I went out into the big wide world only to find myself carefully planning my path so that I missed all of the students in the big red jackets with the clip boards. Yes, I'm sure you know what they're up to too! Now yesterday was peculiar. When I ran right into one I made the usual 'rushing back to work' excuse only for the guy to shout after me, 'Hey, Green Bag, talk to me for a minute.' Somehow I don't think getting everyone in the street's attention to me and attempting to shame me into giving money was going to get me to stop and give him my bank details, even if it was to help blind kids/cancer sufferers/orphans/pensioners etc etc etc etc. And reverting back to an earlier note, I have even been asked 'do you want to help the homeless?' Somehow when you say 'no' to that you feel as though you may as well start packing your case for your long journey to hell.

I've been fooled by these people too. A couple of years back I signed up to Shelter because the guy was really really hot, incredibly charming and I had a very weak moment. Saying that, as I'm sure is their plan, the direct debit is still set up on my account.

Between storecards and endless charities which result in well-needed coffee and cookies I really think I should start shopping online. So what if things don't fit, I'll save a fortune!

I was on a bit of a high yesterday having started my new job at my old company and it actually going really well. Everything was going great until I got an extremely serious call from DJ asking if I'd go round to his later. Seriousness is something he rarely does so I knew where this was going and also knew it was for the best.

When I got there it didn't exactly go the way I thought. I was expecting a brief conversation and agreement that our whole sordid affair wasn't a good idea but no it was like he'd found another bulging can of worms and just thrown them out all over the place. He told me he felt it had gone beyond sex, he was feeling the way he used to and if this wasn't going to go anywhere then he couldn't put himself through it. Where was all this a couple of years ago?!

Not being a fan of awkward conversations and for my own emotional protection I heartlessly made up some lie about meeting friends etc. As I got up to walk out his living room I stood square on a massive piece of broken glass. I have no idea why that was there but it resulted in my foot gushing with blood and me completely freaking out at the sight of it. DJ, despite the fact I'd been a bitch and virtually disregarded everything he said, jumped to my aid with a massive box of first aid materials. Really, it was like Nurse Nancy!

Then to top off our smooth 'break up' he suggested we watch a movie together and due to lack of DVDs put on his cousin's 'My Girl'. Now I knew straight away this was going to be trouble. This is a movie I only watch myself and refuse to have in the house. It's awful because despite my best efforts I cry (sorry not just cry, sob uncontrollably) from the first time they go to play in the woods and become blood brothers right up until 10 minutes after the credits. This is no exageration and yesterday was no different. I'm genuinely not much of a crier so the look in someone's face when this happens is equally humiliating. Following my ridiculous performance I lay with my head on his knees for ages and genuinely didn't want to leave. I'm really not sure at what point this crossed the line into an emotional connection or maybe it always was.

So now the lovely DJ can remember me fondly by my over dramatic reaction to blood and unnecessary tears over an old kid's movie.

And the worst thing of all (minus my massive betrayal) is I'm really going to miss him.

After Sunday things have seemed a lot clearer and I've been feeling a hell of a lot happier. To top it all off I'm working again in the job I want as of tomorrow so I was starting to feel everything really would click into place if I just behaved myself.

This was not looking as it was going to be so however, when I got a surprise visitor first thing yesterday morning. Now I hate surprise visitors in all respects. I could open my door to a particular jaw-dropping rugby player declaring his undying love and I'd still be wondering why he didn't call first. So when I opened my door yesterday morning to DJ I was slightly annoyed particularly seeing as he was interrupting my morning bad mood. Unfortunately he still managed to talk me round in the space of a nano second and it all resulted yet again in an amazing shag. Unluckily though he'd left his mark. There on my bed was the jumper I'd been wearing after said event which is now crushed in the back of my drawer.

Now I love men's clothes. They could probably easily document every vaguely romantic event I've ever had. All this got me to thinking about there functions:

1. Firstly, it acts as the trophy. We've all been there. I remember my first 'proper' boyfriend lending me his hoodie while he failed to impress me on his skateboard. Oh love at 14! I was so proud. There I was in front of everyone wearing his jumper thinking, 'I've got a boyfriend' with a massive grin on my face.

2. Next in my life was the thinking piece. I'm sure loads of people have snaffled a male friend's coat on the way home. When Hemingway let me wear his over-sized suit jacket on the 3 mile midnight walk home from our school formal it was the first time I thought about him as anything other than a friend. Granted it later resulted in a scrappy, painful relationship.

3. Now this is similar to the idea of a trophy but in an ever so slightly more mature way. Let's call it the sex trophy. It's that first time you wear a man's shirt/t-shirt after sex so not only are you not lying there self-conscious and naked but there's something pretty sexy about it. I remember this moment both fondly and with extreme embarassment. I was dating this guy at uni for a while when I had a surprise knock on my room door. Assuming it was a friend I slipped on his T-shirt and dived to the door only to be faced by my mum and dad. I genuinely think this was the first time my mum realised I wasn't a virgin - I'm not sure if it was the fact I was donned in a man's T-shirt or that I had to ask her to leave so the naked man in my bed could put some clothes on. See what I mean about unexpected visitors?!

4. My favourite is the aphrodisiac. I'm not sure what it is - maybe it just doesn't seem right to be wearing someone else's clothes unless there is something between you. I knew this very hot, very charming American man for a short while. One night we went out for tequilla at a Mexican bar when on the way home the rain came down like it was monsoon season. Being stranded in flip flops and a strappy top (it was summer!!) he insisted that I put on some dry clothes. Feeling like an idiot I ended up wandering around in his T-shirt and 'scrubs' - this was bad enough without the fact he was 6'5", almost a whole foot taller than me. I'll let you picture the sight for yourself. Somewhere it went right though and we went out until he went back to America.

5. Finally, and I'm pretty sure this can only work with certain people, is the fact they make you feel safe. When Jazz first moved in with me I had a hideous flu. For 4 days I lived in his jumper while he made me chicken soup and put up with endless hours of Spaced and Friends. Throughout our relationship I have always used that same jumper whenever anything has gone wrong or he's been working away from home a lot.

For anyone who's concerned I do actually have my own clothes as well.....honest!

What a weekend. I think there's been a massive turnover in feelings half way through:

Saturday: I am ashamed to admit Saturday began with me going round to DJ's. I'd been a bit exasperated with Jazz last week and needed some proper time away from him.

So off I went for a couple of glasses of wine and some lunch when I found myself having hot, steamy sex against his bedroom door. Yes, it was wrong but sometimes when something is wrong it just feels great and despite my best efforts I can't seem to end the relationship I'm in.

Sunday: This is where things started to turn around. In true British style we put on a bbq in the pouring rain for my mum. It was all very hazardous with umberellas precariously balanced and trees getting singed by the flames. Nevertheless Jazz and I did it together as a team and he never moaned once. Also Annie (the woman with cancer) managed to make it and actually didn't seem too bad despite being told she might not receive treatment.

With all my family sitting around, actually feeling upbeat for the first time all month, I realised how much they all need this wedding. It might not make sense to anyone else, but to them it's something to focus on, a get together. It's even bigger to them than I initially thought. To put the icing on the cake my grandad gave us some pictures from my birthday a few weeks ago and there's one of me and Jazz chatting, unaware the picture had been taken. It's horrible because I felt overwhelmingly guilty as this is just a startling reminder of how happy we can be.

Later Jazz made me a lovely dinner and now I don't know where I am. I think I'm torn to say the least.

I quit my job yesterday in spectacular style. I knew they weren't expecting it and were going to struggle a little bit with my imminent departure which was a slight bonus, and now I have the freedom to apply for jobs wherever I want, even if it is too late for the one I actually wanted.

When I left the office the prospect of living off my savings and suddenly having tons of time on my hands took over and I called my good friend, Chuckles who came rushing to meet me with my other friend in toe. We shopped, I was curtailed into buying bridesmaids shoes (maybe I should have just been honest) and we went for lunch.

At lunch Chuckles said she wanted to pop into Tesco so I piped up that I needed to buy a new plant. They both looked at me completely bewildered - fair enough, I'm not really a plant person. Without thinking I explained, 'Oh, Polly died.'

'Who? Er what?'

'Polly....' and then I realised I'm stranger than I thought. Apparently it's not normal to name your plants or any inanimate objects either for that matter. What worried me the most was that I often just drop their names into conversations without thinking about it because I'm so used to talking about them like that at home.

It happened at my last job when we got a new car. I said something about getting rid of 'Harry' ('Harold' when his clutch cable started playing up) and before I knew it my colleague was asking 'who?' as well. It's a strange scenario because I get even more attached to them. When I was told Harry would probably be scrapped I could only get by with the thought that lots of little parts of him would be making lots of families happy. It really brings out a disturbing side of me.

Finally there's Candy, my washing machine. It's her make so I didn't actually go to the trouble of naming her but I feel it's only fair she's referred to as a person in her own right considering she does most of the work.

As I write this I'm starting to panic a bit about my mental health. It's not that weird is it? I'm cringing at what everyone might think and that's without mentioning my Basil plant, Boris. I quite often say,'I need to get a bit of Boris for the dinner.' Oh dear!

I think kharma's diving up and biting me in the ass at the moment. I don't mind the odd bad thing happening in moderation but at the moment my life is crawling with things to fix.

After work last night Jazz felt that he won't be satisfied unless we take a few days for me to 'get it out of my system'. Somehow I don't think he'd use that expression if he knew about DJ. After a lot of arm twisting and guilt inducing conversation I agreed. It's a lot to throw away after all, although I don't really appreciate being told that this is 'just one of those things' I do.

However it all went a bit wrong. We went to watch the football which was actually surprisingly fun. I was on the orange juice and he certainly wasn't resulting in him suddenly snapping. It was horrible! For hours he was just impossible. He used to do this a lot at the start of our relationship and it's fair to say we hung on the wire for a long time but even so I never know how to level with him when he's like that.

Once we got home it got a bit too intense - well maybe I just panicked. Finally needing out of there I went to DJ's, the only person I could think of that knows what's going on and lives in walking distance. Discovering the finer details DJ got angry and was ready to go round there which would have made everything a million times worse as I'm sure you can imagine. Plus not one for a scene I didn't really want the whole macho, testosterone explosion.

Nevertheless Jazz phoned me at 6am when he got to work begging me to still give it a few days, and while I wasn't exactly chuffed with the timing of the call I did agree.

On top of this, while I may bring these things on myself, I came home to a warning letter this morning from my work after breaching my contract - oh the joys of working in sales. I have extreme suspicions as to how they found this out with good reason so I'm not impressed. Without a job I'm backed into a corner so going to have to be careful from now on.

On the bright side I decided to dye my hair at home for the first time ever and I've now got a mark on my forehead I can't get off, not to mention a ton of purple stains in the bathroom! For the record I didn't dye my hair purple.

To get some distance and clear my head, I took a couple of hours out yesterday morning, switched off my phone and went shopping. I'm not much of a shopper to be honest. I've never particularly liked it. Between the biz, the queues and the dressing rooms it's just my idea of hell.

Usually I only go shopping when I want something in particular and I whizz around like a whirling dervish until I find it. I'm a horrible shopping partner as well. All my friends can tell I'm getting frustrated - I do try and hide it but I just don't have the patience. I'm at my worst when people decide to try things on. You see, I never try anything on until I get it home with the mild exception of jeans. I just really want out of there!

So yesterday was a new experience to me and as per usual when in doubt, I buy something completely ridiculous. A hat! I couldn't help it, it looked really cute in the shop but I'm not entirely sure it'll ever see the light of day. It's not all bad it would look really good on a Oliver Twist or Keira Knightly, neither of which is me.

Now it's sitting next to my massive straw hat I bought at the start of the summer. I was warned I would never wear that either but as I pointed out at the time it would be ideal for the beach and picnics. However, so far it made an appearance once when I was dashing around my flat in the smallest shorts in the world and blowing bubbles out of the window. This was the beginning of a wonderful friendship with my Italian neighbours and the point where my super-sculpted, sports car driving neighbour probably came to the conclusion I was best avoided. Well, hey, maybe I should be grateful. I may buy the items to make me look nuts but at least I don't wear them out - I keep my normal clothes for those days.

Also, for all of you with your good advice, I told Jazz last night the truth (minus DJ - I don't think it's fair to hurt someone unnecessarily). He went berserk, I've never seen him or anyone else so angry, but I'm hoping by the time we're done with work today we'll be able to get down to sorting everything out.

I had a plan for the first time in over a week yesterday. I was going to actively do something to make things better. It was all going to be fine. I even had an interview for a great company which actually went (fingers crossed) pretty well. Although they did ask me randomly how Jazz would describe me. I sat there stunned for ages thinking of what he would say about me right now. It was all very embarassing and concerning that I couldn't think of a positive comment from my fiance.

So after that I headed home, ready to break Jazz and get to the bottom of all of this. Feeling relieved he was there I was planning to cancel my drink with DJ later - it was all very innocent at this point. It was fantastic, I cracked him. I made him laugh and finally we were half talking, and I didn't think it could get any luckier when he made some derrogatory joke leading to my 'light-hearted' comment that I still had a couple of weeks to change my mind. I was hoping this would spark the conversation. This is where the luck stopped!

He responded, still joking, by saying that I would never call off the wedding at this stage - I would be too worried about upsetting everyone and I'd feel guilty. I couldn't believe it! He just sat there and listed all my doubts with a massive smile on his face. What are the chances?!

As if things weren't ironic enough I quickly dragged him to Tesco with me before he could say anymore and we ran into someone we know. I still can't believe this, but Hemingway was getting out his car as we pulled up. Not only that but he was up every aisle we went up literally. I knew he was visiting but of all the days and all the times to run into him..... I feel a bit cheated to be honest. This place seems to be getting smaller everyday! When I caught his eye it was incredibly awkward but I waved and said 'hi'. Jazz was just ridiculous; at first he pretended not to know who I was waving to after obviously seeing him before me. Then he said so loudly, "So you're speaking to him now?" I couldn't believe how rude he was. He banged on about it all the way round Tesco. I did so well ignoring him but it just got too much and before I know it we're having some muttered argument in the frozen food section. So not only are we back to square 1 but Hemingway has seen us at our worst confirming everything he's said in the past.

After we finally get home from the longest shopping trip ever Jazz goes out and I decide just to meet DJ for this drink. Somewhere in my twisted mind set I suppose I just wanted to cause trouble. I don't know, it was all very out of character but I picked my outfit with military precision and chose the perfume which would raise the most nostalgia. When we finally met I pulled out all my best flirting tools and when he asked me to go and 'watch a DVD' at his I didn't hesitate.

And that was it. I am suddenly a nasty little cheat. It's like someone's given me a spade and I've dug myself a huge hole at lightning speed. I can't even really remember how I got here. Yet minus being guilt ridden I'm ultimately satisfied leading to even more guilt. Hmmm maybe nows the time to play my whole 'there's a lot worse betrayals than cheating' card?!

I've been humiliated and told off twice this weekend. It's been great! Particularly the first time which was in Tesco.

When I'd finally dragged my frail and hungover body out of bed on Saturday I popped to the supermarket to literally buy water, tomatoes and mince. But, and I blame Tesco for this, I ended up with a whole pile of other stuff. Cookies, a big bar of chocolate, houmous (?!)and rocket. It was very random! Surely when they start moving shelves around they should take into consideration everyone's mental health. Feeling particularly fragile at the moment I was taken in by every special offer and was thrown completely off track when I couldn't find the tomatoes that I ended up with all sorts (houmous anyone?). So by the time I've been through all this I'm understandably feeling a bit dazed and absent mindedly stagger up to the express checkout with my bulging basket.

Yes, it's bad supermarket etiquette and I possibly should have paused to count what I had but I was sick of the confusion and I had places to be, plus it was quiet so surely no one would mind.

However as the woman behind the checkout started putting my things through her face becomes increasingly cross and I actually start to panic a little. It still only takes her 2 minutes to put everything through and there was only one person behind me but as soon as she's finished she turns round and says, "It's only 10 items at this till, there's 12 here." I had not idea what to say. I held out a twenty, my hand shaking and mumbled a quick apology assuming that would be it. Unfortunately it wasn't. I got a, "Yes, well...." and she was off. She stripped me down to nothing in front of the gathering queue. I apologise to all checkout workers, I really never realised that 2 items took up 'valuable seconds causing a bottle neck in the supermarket chain exlaining why it's always so busy'. These are her words not mine.

I thought that would be it, at least for the weekend. I'm not really used to 'getting into trouble' anymore. However on Sunday I went to see my mum to hear her out on calling off the wedding. I possibly shouldn't have gone at all to be honest because she's draining me a bit at the moment. With everything that's going on in the family she's leaning on me completely which is difficult, not to mention (and this is going to make me sound dreadful so I'm sorry) she's an incredibly dramatic person so you tend to forget where your own feelings fit in. It's just awkward because we're on very different pages.

Anyway when I get there I hear something which does not exactly warm me to her yet still end up spending actual hours calming her down. Man, I sound heartless! It's all very complicated. I finally take my window and subtily suggest that things aren't great at home. Straight away she dives in and points out I shouldn't get married if I'm not sure. I'm slightly comforted for a nano second not being aware of what was to come. Her maternal and supportive comment was cancelled out by a 10 minute rant about how everyone would be very angry and we'd be letting a ton of people down. Not to mention the fact that I'm very impulsive, don't you know, and jump in and out of things whenever I see fit, and maybe I should get my head together and put the effort in, after all I have to take life seriously eventually. She then answered a phone call from my uncle and joked about my 'flightiness' for so long it became more than uncomfortable.

I hadn't even told her I'd thought about cancelling the wedding and that was the response. Somehow I bottled it and dived in the car, desperate to get out of there. I stuck on a good driving CD and put my foot down for a while. Despite a few odd looks from people at the lights I definitely felt a little bit better although equally clueless.

Well the shit well and trully hit the fan last night. Not being able to cope with the male huff that's taking over my homelife at the moment I told him blatantly I couldn't handle the silence anymore!I came clean about the person who's ill in hope we might be able to put everything else behind us and just focus on being a couple again which was beautifully followed by a grunt and he actually rolled over on the couch to go to sleep. I stood there like a .... (there are no words so please insert your own) before hurling a cushion at him and walking out the room. I'm not a violent person nor one that often loses her temper but there comes a point and this was my moment where I realised I did not under any circumstances want to be with him anymore.

I can't tell him though. It's weak and it's stupid but I keep thinking of all the effort people have put into the wedding (although it feels more like a funeral at the moment) and how much my family are going through right now. So I needed to get out the house and I had 3 unfortunate options this Friday: sit in and paint my toenails, go to a party where Hemingway was expected to turn up with his London friends in toe or go to DJ's party he'd invited me to earlier in the week. This is where I'm a class A idiot.

I got dressed up and went on a mission to be the mysterious stranger at DJ's. Unfortunately I think I got drunker than I've ever been in my life and after what seemed like the hundredth tequila shot, flirted outrageously with some random guy - I think he was a chef. Luckily for me a certain young man aka DJ whipped me away as soon as his hand touched my knee and dragged me outside. It's all very embarassing!

He insisted we go for a walk to clear my head and gave me the whole 'I think you've had enough' speech. It was all very George Peppard whereas I was a bit more Jodie Marsh by this point that Audrey Hepburn. However, I protested a lot so we went and bought peanut M&Ms and a few miniatures which we disposed of on the bridge where we had the most fantastic heart to heart. Following which we walked back singing old James Brown songs.

As if all this isn't bad enough when we get back to his there's a touch of inappropriateness in the kitchen followed by some chips and then it all goes black.

Worse than anything else I wake up in his bed this morning and have that horrible moment where I'm searching for a clue to see if we slept together. Am I wearing any clothes? Is he?! But as soon as I woke up he presented me with a large bottle of water and paracetemol and assured me a million times over that we didn't. Phew! It could always be a fraction worse then. I lay there for ages just chatting etc until he asked me if I was happy to which I just pulled the cover over my head and went back to sleep.

I have to say this is the worst emotional hangover in the world. I'm scared to show my face outdoors and so so embarassed. And to make it worse I get home to no Jazz and a note saying, 'Gone out. Try and get fitted for a wedding ring today will you?' Charming!

Well I have shared my shame with the world, now I might just go and bury my head in my pillow.

In a bid to get myself out of the awkward hell hole that is my home right now (did I mention I've somehow landed myself in the spare bedroom?)I popped out last night to catch up with a couple of friends. They're both old school friends who I used to be very close to, but such is life, we've drifted quite a bit. As always with them the topic of facebook came up. I'm still a semi facebook virgin having only joined 3 months ago due to peer pressure.

Half way through an active conversation about someone I vaguely remember's hen do which is plastered all over facebook, I committed the cardinal sin, admitted I can't stand it and was thinking of just deleting myself off it because I never really use it. It just slipped out! It's an under exageration to say this was greeted with anything other than a startled silence, faces of extreme bewilderment and then finally in a pained voice, "But why?"

Taking a massive gulp of tea I panicked slightly. It seemed I may have just rocked everything these 2 girls believe in. Stupidly, I carried on. Trying to make my issues with it seem more personal than anything else I explained how I felt a bit exposed, always forgot to check it resulting in me missing important messages, and that an old friend I'd 'drifted' from with good reason has tracked me down and is now trying to resurface our beautiful friendship.

My explanation was met not by the expected disgust but a sympathetic smile and a knowing look between the two of them, "You'll get used to it. It's fantastic. You can stalk people and see what people are getting up to. I have 220 friends! Just stick in there you'll be loving it in no time."

How silly of me I can't believe I was thinking about deleting my profile, giving up the chance to stalk ex-boyfriends and their new girlfriends. Not to mention the large number of 'friends' I could have - how else would I strengthen my friendships with all these ex-colleagues, people I only half knew at school and all my friends' friends that I'm never likely to meet in my life! Yes, facebook is clearly the way to go.

I had some bad news last night. We've just discovered that someone I'm incredibly close to has secondaries on the liver (incurable cancer). It's taking me a long time to get my head around it which is driving me crazy; I'm usually pretty good at philosophising my way out of this stuff. I think it's just not helped by everything else that's going on.

Jazz is still stomping around. He spent last night playing Grand Theft Auto and blatantly ignoring me. Then I asked him if he could take an hour or 2 off Friday to have a chat, the response to which was, "We need the money for the wedding." I responded spightfully with, "Oh you think we do, do you?" and it all blew up again. Hence, he doesn't know about my news and it's fair to say I definitely don't have his support. I can just feel the resentment building but to be honest unless I do apologise (for I don't know what really - he doesn't know about the kiss and I think with good reason)then he'll probably be quite harsh about it, making the whole situation feel a lot worse.

Anyway I don't have time to think about that right now. I'm on a mission to cheer myself up and get back to normal. As I watch everyone crumble around me I realise the woman in question needs me at the moment. My plan: Copious amounts of tea (so horribly British but works so well), Amelie (the most upbeat movie I know) on repeat and, hey, you never know my childhood friend may make an appearance if things get drastic. Give it a couple of hours though and I'm confident I'll be fine!

Jazz and I had a massive fight this morning. It came from nowhere. He just called me from work about 10ish in a complete rage. Turned out he had read my text messages last night and came across a message from DJ thanking me for a great night and for my honesty on Friday. He'd then bottled this up completely, didn't ask me about it and felt it appropriate to call me out the blue and flip out.

I am so angry. Maybe I don't have the right to be, but everything he said and the sneaky methods he went to just reaked of mistrust. We're meant to be getting married in a few weeks, he's constantly re-affirming how right it is whenever I voice my own concerns, and then it transpires that he checks my mobile. Hypocricy doesn't even cover it! And to add to the blow he won't believe me despite having done nothing wrong. I'm sure I have a hell of a lot of flaws but I have always been honest with him when it matters. I'm so angry!

So in my rage I call DJ for a chat, and a second opinion I suppose. He insisted he should come round and help me get my head together. So half an hour later he arrives on my doorstep with a CD in hand. The CD it turned out was a mix he'd done that morning and wanted me to hear it. He's so effortlessly cool, I'd completely forgotten that! The awe of a smitten 16 year old creeps through.

There I was, not expecting him for another half hour, with my hair tied back in my checked pj trousers and a dingy old vest top. Not a good look! But strangely after my initial panic I realised I didn't care. I'm not sure if that's because I'm genuinely over him or because I still feel so unbelievably comfortable around him.

Anyway we spend the morning catching up. I'd be lying if I said I haven't missed him. I miss being with someone who is in no way overly possessive, I can share some slightly intelligent conversation with and generally doesn't take life too seriously. And that's when it happened. There was a kiss. A mutual one. The type which always makes me laugh because there's just 'that moment'.

We both agreed it didn't mean anything though. What we had isn't what we want and there's a million reasons why we're not together. Despite all we have in common he's also hugely into this whole underground club scene which isn't just about music - a bit too much of an involvement with drugs and a man who I can see doing the same thing at 50. But now at least we're back to being friends.

As for Jazz I'm still livid and things are certainly not ok there. But I know he won't ever apologise - there's no dialogue in an argument with him. I'll give it a couple of days and I'll probably cave and apologise just to get rid of this unbearable living situation.

I think I may have opened a can of worms! It wasn't intended I was genuinely trying to relieve my conscience and make someone else feel better. Mainly the first one I'm ashamed to admit. Plus alcohol was involved so I'm willing to take about 80% responsibility.

Today I'm sitting here feeling sorry for myself when I receive a phone call from none other than DJ.We've not spoken on the phone for about 2 years now. When he found out about my current 'condition' he offered to come round with Dr Pepper and a Bueno - I hate that he remembers that stuff. See what I mean about the can of worms? So I do the right thing and say no and then spend the rest of the day beating myself up about it. After all this is all my fault:

It all started last Friday when my lovely lovely other bridesmaid, Billie came down. Actually I might give her 10% of the blame too! You see this is the girl who I've got in and out of trouble with for over 10 years now. We don't live near each other anymore and can go for a month without talking and a lot longer without seeing each other but it never changes, and I love that she's not really part of my social circle as such. In fact if I was ever to use the term then yes, "she's totally like my BFF".

So in typical style we go for afternoon cocktails and a catch up. It was all very subdued and lovely until DJ turns up in the same bar with his friends. We're polite as always but as the day turns into night and my vision becomes seriously impaired, me and Billie get talking and she convinces me to tell him. And I did. I took my chance. He went to the bar to get a drink and made a face at me and I asked if I could talk to him. You can almost hear the tin opener grinding into action!

And so I tell him everything (please don't judge me too harshly!). I tell him all about how insecure I was feeling when we started going out. I was young, he was quite a bit older and I really really really fell head over heals. I tell him how one of my friends had raised questions in my head over a girl he knew (who incidentally he was with for 2 years after me) and how when I went away for that fateful weekend the friend I told him I'd slept with I had actually turned down. I then go on to tell him how when I had said I had slept with him I was very very drunk, had assumed he wasn't sure about us anymore and wanted to get in there first before he thought I was taking it too seriously. Hurt or be hurt I suppose. I then find myself telling him how I never told him the truth because I had miscontrued all his eratic messages and phone callsthe month after the incident as him messing with my head and would have happened whatever the situation.

Yes, I was VERY stupid but also very insecure at that point. And do you know after I told him all of this he just hugged me?! He told me how much he'd been hurt, how it'd had been a nightmare for him getting over what we had and how he'd questioned whether to call me for a very long time. I fear I didn't deserve that amount of understanding! Hence, worms all over the place!

On the other side of the coin, talking to him like that left me lusting after him. He's a fine specimen of a man. It could just be the prospect of only sleeping with one man for the rest of my life or it could be the fact that we never reached a stage where the passion turned to comfort.

I could do without the temptation at the moment. With the wedding looming a feel myself longing for just one night (OK I can't guarantee it would stop there which is why I'm not pursuing it) with someone completely different. I even find myself lusting after Best Man Ray (bit of a lager lout at times and can be a questionable dresser). I think I'm in trouble.

Sub NoteHave cracked a rib right enough. Doctor reckons I'll be 'laid up' for days if not weeks. Does he not know I'm meant to be stumbling down the aisle in a few weeks?! The way I'm going at the moment I'll be bent over double with my hand glued to my side like I've just been stabbed. Really not proving to be a good look. Nor is the fact I'm having to rely on Jazz to do the back of my hair at the moment. I hate being incapable!! I may self-medicate later with a bottle of red.

I have had a really great week. I took a few days off work last week partly because I was sick and partly because I really really needed a break. Talk about emotional and physical burnout at the moment!

Still hating my job you would have though it felt amazing not to be there but the truth is I just worry all the time they'll be shitty with me when I go back for being off in the first place. And no I'm not being paranoid. These are the same people that flipped out because I had to take a day off (with 3 weeks notice I might add) to go to a really important hospital appointment. However everything else about the week was great. I had a fantastic time with Jazz and managed to get some interviews lined up. Not to mention just receiving money from my previous job I didn't know I was owed.

However, now I'm due back to work this afternoon and it's not looking likely. Last night I was sitting on the couch and Jazz was precariously balance on the arm when from out of nowhere he slipped, head butted me and elbowed me in the ribs. It was possibly the most bizarre and unforeseen accident I've been in in my life. And strangely I'm in agony.

I'm hobbling all over the place, I can barely lean down at all andI don't know how the hell I'm going to drag my sorry ass to work. Particularly seeing as I don't have the car.

Jazz spent all last night convincing me we should go to casualty. I'm not entirely sure how to explain this to them though without the question of domestic abuse somehow slipping in. Trust me this randomly became an issue years ago when I ended up in A&E because I fainted. So the question is do I go to work and face my boss but put myself through hell in the process? Or do I get myself down to A&E and just accept my work might be annoyed but that they'll just have to lump it because some things are out of my control?