I firmly believe that if Adele and I got to hang out for a day we’d be firm friends for life. I adore her as much as she adores Beyoncé, plus sprinkles and a cherry on top.
In the last few days I have felt like Leo aboard that giant steamer – full of spunk and excitement. This is the gym’s fault. I know Phil is probably sick of listening when I tell him about every minute and every stretch of my workout and how my muscles are aching and how good I feel. One thing he’s not sick of; our sex life. HELLO! That has definitely stepped up a notch since I got all energised and loving of exercise. I feel like I’m 20-odd again and full of vitality! Why didn’t I do this sooner?Read More
I’ve only gone and signed up to a gym. I know. After my boyfriend picked himself back up off the floor he high-fived me and slapped my ass.
I recently found these little snippets of my old blog, missB (a nickname that has stuck around!) and had a wee giggle myself. While four years have gone by, I seriously haven’t changed. I still write and fret and agonise about the same things. It’s like I’m sitting in a damn rocking chair. Not much has changed; just that I’m not chasing the penis constantly and my own confidence and personal self-assurance has greatly increased. Not that I was ever a wallflower.