Jazz beats me at literally everything! I've always been pretty competitive so to have married someone that is even more so was just asking for trouble. It's usually a close call and quite often it kicks off with me winning, but he always swings it round on the last second. With all this in mind any games we play quickly turn into the best out of 3/5/7/9/11.........../37. Now, in sheer desperation, I am looking for a game I can actually beat him at. So far these ones are all no-no's:

Twister - he's too damn quick and tactful
Chess - I'm inpatient
Miniature Golf - I get too excited and sloppy when I start to win
Shithead - he's clever with the number '7'
Charades/Pictionary - depends on how you look at it
Tennis - I just can't hit the ball
Poker - what can I say?! He's damn lucky
Buckaroo - I'm clumsy by nature
Ten Pin Bowling - always a close one, lets blame it on the fact he can use a heavier ball than me.

You get the idea! Any ideas on a new game I'm sure to win?!

In case I haven't mentioned the bain of my existance is shopping, mainly in Tesco. On top of that I hate nothing more than shop assistants who have full blown conversations with someone else as they serve you. It is so rude. Really, I get mad just talking about it.

So the other day in Tesco, after forcing my way past many a dithering oldie and queuing forever due to a sloppy checkout girl merrily chatting to a co-worker about her husband, it is safe to say I was fuming. But she managed to save herself from my 'spin on heel and march out without a "thanks"' manouvere when she said, 'I really love your top, you totally suit it.'

My impulse was to think that she was taking the piss but she was so genuine that it produced a stunned smile and an emphatic 'thank you so much' as she handed me my change. Maybe this is a service all shops should be thinking about providing.

As a post-easter, 'had enough of being locked in the house with the hubby' celebration I met up with DJ for a couple last night. I was looking forward to something low-key and fun. Nothing more.

Much to my disappointment a barrel-load of intensity was what it turned out to be, kicked off by a call from my cousin. His 3 year old daughter was staying and wanted to say 'goodnight', so in the middle of a bar I fell into a long conversation which mainly involved fairies, green eggs and ham, and the sandman.

When I came off the phone I had fully intended to put any vaguely maternal instincts to one side and forget all about it but DJ made a comment about how I'd make a 'good mum'. Not really getting why everyone's obsessing over my having children at the moment I got a bit ansty and cracked a sarcastic joke in attempt to dismiss it. Turns out I'd forgotten who I was dealing with.

Somehow my flippant response turned into a fully fledged conversation about parenthood and ended when DJ said he could think of no one he would trust more with his kids if he had them (dilluded comes to mind). Before I had a chance to freak out or change the subject he brought up the subject of me leaving Jazz again.

Don't get me wrong, this has been discussed way more than I'm comfortable with but I've always been able to put a jokey slant on it and ignore it. This time it became apparent I wasn't going to be able to do that. It transpired that he's broken his contact off with the girl he was dating and asked me straight out to break up with Jazz and move in with him. Like it's that easy!

I'm not sure at what point things became serious but considering I'm not entirely happy being in a relationship at all at the moment, I definitely don't feel like being in two at once. If I'm honest a comfortable transition from the relationship I'm in to another one with a strong, together and hot hot guy, is incredibly tempting. There's little worse than the come down period after a relationship and I can see why people let them overlap.

But it's too easy and not what I want. If/when I get it together and end things with Jazz it is to get my life together again without being overly concerned with another influence. Having fun is fine. Dating is fine. Moving in with a guy is not. Sorry for all the rambling, after all this is ridiculous and completely hypothetical.

So back to the point - Being everything I hate in a person I called on cowardice, made a truly terrible excuse and left prematurely before ignoring his calls last night and today.

Oh the shame! Was visiting Annie and Mr T on Friday night but I had plans to meet up with my oldest friend, Billie, first. My excuse is that I hadn't seen her in ages and we just got carried away. It's not good enough but it's all I have.

Anyway Jazz came to pick us up and was made to wait in the car for over an hour (in my defence I did ask him to come in) as we polished off another bottle of wine. In fact alarm bells should have been ringing when I 'cooly' walked up and kissed some random, hot stranger then tripped over a chair (I have the bruise to proove it) as we left to head off for Annie's.

When we got there I dragged Billie in with me who is extremely loud and obnoxious after a few. I thought Mr T was going to strangle her on several occasions. It is safe to say my family (or pretty much anyone else) has never seen me that drunk.

The next day I got up and sincerely apologised for completely screwing up the night but Annie assured me it was 'hilarious'. Nevertheless I've spent the past 4 days still feeling a tiny bit shady (purely because I've spent the bank holiday catching up with people through the means of 'going for a drink') and really, really guilty.

My biggest worry is that I saw it as an opportunity to fill Annie and Mr T in on my concerns about my mum. Amidst the guilt and general headache, I've been so paranoid they'll say something to mum and it'll come back and bite me on the ass. I guess a good old shunning would be my punishment.

As Jazz always says I really do need to learn how to let things go... Oh and he took me for a meal as opposed to a coffee. Since I f****d up this weekend I think it's only right I don't push it any further.

Oh I could scream. Jazz and I had a really lovely one-to-one last weekend. We haven't seen as much of each other because of work etc and he wanted to arrange a day off together so we could have a great 24 hours to make up for it. He told me he missed me and was incredibly sweet (I'm too easy). For the past few days I've been looking at him from time to time and thinking that maybe things aren't actually that bad. In fact it's been almost blissful and I was starting to wonder if I should really start putting more work into our marriage.

Fast forward a week and I asked him if he'd booked a table (he wanted to do all the arranging, another romantic plus point) for the night in question. He looked at me quizzically. Here comes the best bit. He couldn't remember talking about it, he hadn't booked a day off work or made any plans and had actually planned to play pool/snooker/some other game with balls and sticks, that night.

Not sure how he wanted me to respond to this I went really quiet. And then of course his natural cycle started: concern (are you ok?), defensiveness (you know I'm forgetful. You knew that when you married me. It's not that big deal), anger (why are you being so quiet? Do you want to ruin tonight too?) and finally, 12 hours later, regret (I really am sorry, I've totally screwed up this time. Fancy going for a coffee at the weekend to make up for it?).

I'm not impressed. Particularly by the fact he's still playing golf or whatever that night and I have an empty day booked off work. Now I just look at him with disdain.

Jazz and I met up with bestman Ray and his wife for dinner last night. It was all going to plan until Mrs Ray asked me for some paracetemol and, in the process of pulling a strip out my bag, a condom came flying out and hit off my wine glass. Ray burst into hysterical laughter, Mrs Ray smiled disapprovingly and Jazz barked, 'what's that for?'

Luckily Ray took over from there and spent the whole night in a schoolboy piss-taking match with Jazz. Meanwhile I got to sit through a mega serious conversation with Mrs Ray: 'Are you two planning to have kids soon? When do you think you'll buy your own place? Don't you think it's really important you get on the property ladder before having children? Have you thought about investing in property? You realise if you move to London you'll be dramatically less financially secure?'

By the time we left I felt I'd aged ten years and was seriously considering buying into Ray's company (quite glad this all subsided somewhere on the drive home). As soon as we got in the car though the conversation went straight onto the condom. It's a long tale of contraception and infidelity but I managed to squirm out of my sticky spot by lying about coming off the pill.

It just seems to be one thing after another at the moment. I'm thinking I may as well get the word 'CHEAT' tattooed on my forehead.

My hatred for facebook is well documented but something happened the other day to slowly turn my opinion.

I logged on for the first time in weeks to find a huge number of posts from friends that were obviously expecting some kind of reply. With a fresh coffee, I muttered angrily about people being incapable of picking up the phone and agressively battered the keyboard.

Somewhere in the middle of my frantic clicking I came upon the most horrendous photo of an ex of mine (Hemingway). I'm sure the utter glee I felt at seeing this is highly bitter and twisted, but at the same time he broke my heart into a trillion bits. Always good to see he's let himself go and it really has made me appreciate the hubby a little more too.

Sick. Sick. Sick.

My legs did the most remarkable thing last night. Pilates really does make life more fun.

Spent the other day with Annie and Mr T which was great. Now they've changed her treatment Annie is doing amazingly well. She's put on weight, is capable of being almost entirely independent and is actually herself again. I feel like she's been missing since even before the diagnosis (6 months ago now).

It was a great day, full of smiles and light heartedness, but it's risen a fragment of hope for the impossible. Mr T makes the odd comment like, 'she'll beat this' and I pray (well, my kind of praying) everyday that he knows deep inside she can't. It just can't be done. Saying that I'm just as bad, although I keep my irrational thoughts to myself - 'maybe she'll be the first?!'

All a bit ridiculous really and not helped by my dream/nightmare last night that it had spread drastically and they were giving her 2 weeks. At the end of the day I know there's much worse to come and the reality of it is that, according to the specialist, most people with secondaries in the liver don't see out the first 6 months from the diagnosis. We're now almost at 7 months and I'm petrified to even let the term 'borrowed time' enter my head.

Bottom line is she can't beat it but we can appreciate this time when she's a lot healthier and happier.

On a lighter note, as someone suggested, City Boy did think I was in the middle of a break up. I have fully verified the situation and got a, 'that complicates things' message back. Have sensibly not replied. Oh, those wonderous single days.....

I've been squirming out of drinks with the City Boy for over a week now. It's been going quite well, I've managed to delicately avoid having the 'my friend should have mentions I'm married' conversation.

A week of excuses and it's starting to look a bit peculiar so I finally picked up my phone and sent him a message saying, 'I'm really sorry. I should have said before but I'm married. Don't really think a drink would be a good idea.'

His response - 'Oh yeah your friend said. Thats ok, we can take it easy until you get yourself together again. A drink would still be good though...?'

What the hell does that mean?!

I was so excited last night because my cousin came back from his 3 months in Oz. Rob is like the big brother I never had - he punched my 'first boyfriend' when I was 4 for kissing me on the lips; when my grandad died and my mum didn't talk to me about it but obsessed over why I didn't cry, he spent all his time with me and held my hand at the funeral; just before I walked up the aisle to face my doom....sorry, bright future....he downed a glass of champagne, puffed out his chest and told me he loved me (my mature response was to laugh, mumble 'you too' and punch him in the stomach).

Nevertheless he is also cheating scum with a string of ex partners baying for his blood. Last night I managed to grab a few hours alone with him for a catch up. There were confessions and war stories flying from both ends and by the end I'd confessed all. He didn't seem at all shocked or judgemental, even when I confessed that the only guilt I feel is down to not feeling guilty at all. Our conversation felt productive at the time although I now worry it may just have corrupted my mind even more.

Last night I learned from him that 'it's only sex' and not worth beating myself up about, 'there's only actually been 2 different guys', 'Jazz is a tad possessive' and if we can sort that out then I probably won't feel the need to cheat in the first place, I should never 'cheat on him under his own roof' and I'd 'be surprised at the number of people who cheat'.

Somehow I now feel he just gave me tips and justification, not helped by his witty parting shot, 'You have no idea how long I've waited to have you by the balls like this.'

A brief call with Rob this morning told me that he just didn't feel he was in a place to judge and that I'm his concern not Jazz. 'Do what makes you happy....' I sometimes wonder if that phrase is too loosely used.

Never, ever take your husband with you to buy a new hairdryer:

How about this one?
It's Mary-Kate & Ashley.
So? We got your sister Mary-Kate & Ashley straightners.
Yeah, but she's 12.
12 year olds have hair do they not?
Ha bloody ha. I use it virtually everyday, I need a good hairdryer.
Ok, this one?
No, it really needs to be ionic
Ionic?
Yes, it stops my hair frizzing.
I know what it means but that's just a myth. Where did you hear that? Cosmo?
No.....Glamour. Look, it's what I'm used to so why change something that's kinda working?
Ok, you sure know how to make things difficult. Here, this one is ionic. 2 heat settings and 3 speed settings.
Hmmm, no the other way round would be better.
Now you're just being picky. All a hairdryer does is blow out hot air.
Sure, you have so much experience with hairdryers....

And so we went round in circles in the same manner for ages before throwing in the towel. Until I get the chance to sneak off and get one on my own, I have to use the broken one which vibrates in my hand like a pneumatic drill.

A couple of weeks ago I woke up to 2 messages on my phone: a 'good morning' from Jazz and a really dirty one from DJ. Bleary eyed and shattered I sent a 'morning' message to Jazz, and an even dirtier message to.....Jazz. It took a phone call and an elaborate explanation to make Jazz think the message had been intended for him seeing as it made no contextual sense. I felt a twinge of guilt and promised never to let anything like that happen again.

This morning Jazz started early and DJ popped in for coffee while he was at work, except we ended up sharing more than that over the breakfast table. As soon as he left I dived in the shower and, ten minutes later as I was getting dried, Jazz came running into the flat saying he'd forgotten his work phone.

I've always thought the whole 'I caught them at it' story was elaborate and more at home in Hollywood than in real life. Apparently not. Talk about bringing it all home.

It is not irregular for Jazz to go off on a crusade and try to transform me in some way or another. This has been going on for a while now and has involved all of the following: leaving the TV on stand-by, bringing my work home with me, putting knives in the sink as opposed to leaving them at the side, squandering money, spilling make up on our cream sheets, letting my mum get to me, speeding, not locking the door.....ok, I'll give him that one.

It begins with an innocent comment from him and then escalates until he is drowning me in vaguely related statistics and saying, 'What have I told you about doing that?!' - incredibly difficult not to give into my childish instinct and say, 'sorry, mum'.

This carries on for as long as I can tolerate it unti we finally have an argument and his focus transforms into another one, of what I can only guess, are my faults in his and quite possibly everyone elses' eyes.

At the moment it's my weight. There are three reasons for this; my weight has dropped a smidgen (no, I'm not in denial - we're talking a few tiny pounds here), my dad made a flippant comment (to which Jazz responded with 'yes, yes, I've been trying to get her to eat' like I've stopped eating altogether) and 'Supersize vs Superskinny' (after a poignant discussion regarding the skinny girl's spine protruding in an alarming manner from her back, he turned to me in a dramatic fashion and said, 'You know, you can see your spine a little bit').

He's driving me crazy. If he's not watching me and commenting emphatically while I eat, he's saying stupid things like, 'Maybe we should get rid of the scales. I don't think they're healthy.' I was almost at the end of my tether when he uttered this one and fired back, 'But, sweetie, how would you be able to keep an eye on me?!'

The tip of the iceberg being when he insisted on calculating my BMI yesterday. He actually appeared deflated when it was perfectly healthy, but according to him being on the lower end of the scale means I'm verging on 'unhealthy'.

I'm hoping this one will subside soon because, no matter how often he compliments me, he's raising serious self-doubt. I was a lot happier when I felt slightly paranoid about the flatness of my stomach, rather than obsessively examining my back for bone sightings.

Jazz and I go for the odd bath together. It was his idea when he first moved in with me and I didn't have a shower. Personally I hate baths and feel like I'm stewing in my own filth despite, hopefully, not being that filthy.

I'm sure it should be of a highly sexual nature but really it's where we actually talk or bizarrely, I read to him (it's my desperate attempt at making him realise books aren't simply 'boring'. I figure if I do it naked I might just about rouse some enthusiasm). In reality it's fun and one of the few pleasant areas of our relationship left.

Last night we had a random 'bath night'. Perfect as always. I was reading 'Big Sur' (we've come a long way since 'Lemony Snicket', thank god) and he was blowing bubbles off my leg when suddenly the guy upstairs started roaring, 'YEEEEEEEEES! Get in!!!!' After repeating this eight times (yes, really, we counted) he yelled, 'What a f*cking goal!!!!!' and the moment was effectively ruined, not helped by Jazz's desperate need to work out who'd just scored.

Oh if he asked me whether I thought the f*cking goal was scored by Arsenal, Celtic or Manchester United one more time....

First day in the new job started off pretty well although I was dreading the afternoon when I had to spend some 'alone time' with Cliff (the guy I slept with years ago and who now, through a series of very unfortunate events, is technically my boss). It was fine, I was being as professional as possible. I felt it was more appropriate to act like I didn't know him so as to avoid any awkward questions.

Anyway 2pm comes and I'm spending some time in his office going through things when he takes a deep breath and asks, 'Which one of is going to bring it up?'

AAAAAH!!!! I was hoping we didn't have to. Luckily we didn't delve into the finer details of our late night encounter but figured it was best to acknowledge it and move on. Not sure if I agree with his method, particularly seeing as I then spent the rest of the afternoon blushing uncontrollably and fiddling with my hair. I was so pathetic but hopefully tomorrow will be less painful.

Spending the day at home before starting the new job tomorrow. Completely freaking out about it, I will generally do anything to avoid awkwardness so feeling extremely unsettled about it all.

Anyway my nice relaxing day is not going to plan. It's only 11.20am and so far:

My hairdryer has given up the ghost

After batting several messages back and forth the City Boy (who my lovely friend gave my number too the other night) has finally asked me out for a drink. I fear now is the time to point out I'm married, and the fact I've left it so late is just going to make it a million times more awkward. Any ideas on how to put it?

While thinking about the above dilemma I left my straightners on for over an hour and have left a massive burn mark on the table

We've just realised the car's MOT is overdue and we have, therefore, been driving uninsured for 14 days

Only thing in for breakfast is a left over slice of pizza from last night. Yummy!