I'm also a bit peeved with my boyfriend, because he visited a strip club the other night. He defended his actions by saying it was no worse than watching a porno, something I responded to asking if it was the same then why wasn't he at home watching a Pay Per View with a box of tissues, which would have been far less expensive. Was that too crude? I think it might have been. He seemed sorry because it did genuinely upset me, but I don't want to turn into the evil green-eyed girlfriend who stops him going out and having fun with his friends, even if it does mean going out to watch women far more attractive than myself take their clothes off. My proposed solution thus far: MEH.

Anyway, we spoke on the phone last night after Rachel went home and are fine for the moment. In fact me and my ulcer, now the size, shape and texture of a moon crater, are off to his friend's barbecue in Watford today, where I will ask for a blender to liquidise my food, 'cause chewing AIN'T HAPPENING.

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