After a week of sex-related things (of which more later), yesterday I ended up going blackberrying with a girlie mate. We were going to make jam but ended up spending so long picking blackberries that we didn't have time to do anything else.
Felt very country-girl, particularly when we stumbled across some sloes and decided to pick them too to make sloe gin. However, after my usual sex filled week, it was hard keeping a straight face when the conversation went something like this:
Girlie mate: Look at that gorgeous bush.
Me: God, it's got some really juicy ones.
GM: Look at the size of this one.
Me: Ooh, this one's so ripe it just came off in my hand.
It was all getting terribly Carry On so we decided to focus on the blackberries instead. Got five and a half pounds of them and a pound and a half of sloes so were quite chuffed.
This week, in the usual sex-filled run of activities, on Monday I was doing filming with ITV for a show about Ann Summers. I've been given a load of sex toys to test for them and one of the things they wanted me to do was give them a run-down of my 'toy-box' - the thirty or so toys that I've kept after reviewing them. It felt very odd sitting on my bed saying 'and this toy is great because the head rotates but I don't understand why it has to light up' and knowing that this is my job.
Wrote some articles - one for the Daily Star on how to shag in hot weather, loads of sex education ones for the cards I'm doing and some more for the Lovers' Guide.
Had another FREE meeting, sorting out the kitemark stuff and met a fab striptease artist who we've recruited for the next Lovers' Guide video. The script is finished and we're into pre-production, which is always fun. Sorting out studios and crew at the moment, with casting in the next few weeks. Casting is always a fun way to spend time - chatting to people about the video then asking them to get naked.
I love my life.
21 per cent of men have admitted they thought about sex within a minute of a business meeting starting.
Scientists research the shape of the penis.
It's been a bit of an odd week for me, in that I seem to have been uber-girlie. Had one of my mates round last Wednesday to watch a chick-flick (The Sweetest Thing - Cameron Diaz, Christina Applegate and Selma Blair doing girlie things but really quite well.)
Sadly, the TV decided to explode. Or rather, the vision-hold went, which meant that the film had a decidedly stripy quality. We tried all the usual things to fix it; hitting it, hitting it at a different angle, turning it off, hitting it some more, asking it to work, pleading with it to work, swearing at it. None of the attempts worked. We gave up, drank wine and had girlie conversation instead.
Cooked one of my favourite 'easy' meals; spaghetti carbonara. Not sure if it's technically accurate but I bung a load of bacon lardons in a pan with a finely chopped onion, fry it till it's cooked, chuck in a slug of vermouth (or some white wine left in a glass from the day before) let it sizzle, add it to spaghetti (Cooked. Obviously) then add double cream, an egg yolk and a load of parmesan. Is great for soaking up excessive wine, so I had very little in the way of hangover the next day.
Thursday was another girlie day. Started writing a load of articles about sex (same old same old) then went off to meet a mixologist (no, I have no idea what the difference between a mixologist and a cocktail barman is other than that some time about 5 years ago someone decided it sounded cooler) to devise the Cliterati cocktail for our birthday party (priorities - get the cocktail devised, then invite people to the party. Hmm, probably the wrong order) We also had to devise one for the sponsors.
The whole way through, I was thinking 'And this is work? I love my life.'
11 cocktails in, we made up our minds. I can't remember the recipe (what do you expect - I'd had 11 cocktails) but I know it's got raspberry stolichnaya, lychee juice, lemon juice, cranberry juice and some other clever ingredients that I'm sure the mixologist (who was lovely) just made up. There was one thing he mentioned that was made from almond flowers but I'm not sure if that was in it.
Then, it was off to meet another girlie mate. She'd just got a new job so we decided to celebrate. We'd got a table booked at a restaurant that sounded as if it was going to be fab but turned out to be dreadful; a nightclub playing 'banging house choons' with a few tables at the back of the venue masquerading as a restaurant. We sat down anyway. The first thing they said to us was 'we need the table back in two hours'. When, after 10 minutes, no-one had come up to us with either a menu or asking if we wanted drinks, we did a runner.
We found a fantastic place instead - the Loch Fyne restaurant in Covent Garden. As we were celebrating, went for the assorted seafood on crushed ice; langoustines, lobster, scallops and other nice things. Was the kind of meal I always used to look at other people having in restaurants (through the windows) and think 'I'd love that' so felt very glam, particularly as we were having champagne to celebrate her new job.
Frday, another girlie mate came over and we went for a more usual kind of 'my life' evening; namely, burgers, cans of beer in front of the TV and off to the local dive of a nightclub (it's called 'The Sindrome'. You can guess the rest.)
After a day of tidying and recovering on Saturday, Sex and the City style life re-emerged on Sunday. Met up with another mate in Richmond and we went shopping. For the second time in my life - the first time also in Richmond - I fell in love with a pair of shoes.
They had stupidly high heels.
I can't walk in heels.
They were primarily made of diamante.
This is not something that fits with most of my wardrobe.
But they were incredibly pretty and reduced from £200 to £70. Clearly, I had to have them.
Stll glad I bought them, even if I'm not 100 per cent convinced I'll ever be able to walk in them.
And the theme continued today with yet another girlie night out, with the lovely woman who runs Truffle - a gorgeous online sex shop.
What with the last few days, and the Ooshka party I'm going to later this week, I fear I may start to wear pink instead of my usual black.
And I've still got the entire series of Sex and the City borrowed from a mate to watch...