When I had an email this week to tell me I had been nominated for a Gurgle blog award, my first reaction, (after ‘what’s a Gurgle blog award?), was a mild panic – a dread at the prospect, after the whole MAD blog award thing, of having to bang on at everyone to vote for me again.

It would just have made me so irritating.

I replied to the people at Gurgle, (who it turns out are part Mothercare), and explained my ‘voter fatigue’ concerns, and they kindly reassured me that the nominations are being judged by a panel, so I wouldn’t have to annoy anybody. Phew!

So, feeling much better about the whole thing, I let out a small ‘hoorah!’

I get this special badge and everything:

I am nominated in the ‘best mummy blog writing’ category. I’m not sure how the nomination came about, whether I was plucked at random or genuinely cherished, but in any case, I am thrilled, if for no other reason than there are apparently goodie bags involved. Seriously though, it’s not just about the goodie bags.

Sometimes I worry that I am just sat here on my own at home spewing out nonsense, only to have it disappear into the ether, so it is always lovely to know there are people actually reading it. Of course I know there are people who do – YOU are right now of course – but it’s lovely none the less.

I sense I’m waffling now, so I had better stop. I can see I’m going to have to improve my public speaking before I have to stand up and make my acceptance speech.

Summary for people who got bored and skipped to the end: I got nominated for an award! Yay! Thanks!

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Do you remember a few weeks ago when I got my contraceptive implant taken out? You may not have wanted to know about it, but I told you anyway, and there you were, stuck with it.

I’d been wondering for some time about the impact it had been having on my emotional and physical health, having had it for six years, and I wanted to give you an update, to let you know if I’ve been feeling any different.

Oh

My

God

I feel like a different person. Seriously. Aside from the fact that I want to have sex with pretty much everyone I see (it did say it could suppress your libido, but this is ridiculous…), aside from that, I just feel like ME again. I’ve always tended to be the jolly one of the family, and the growing anxiety and nagging melancholy I’ve felt over the last year or so has felt all wrong.

But now..

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You may remember a few weeks ago I rose to the challenge to write a post including a camel, and even tried my hand at fiction into the bargain. Well, quite a few people liked it and wanted to know what happened next, especially my number one fan Brian. So last week while on my Arvon course I tried out my new writing and editing skills and wrote the next instalment. I also reworked the first part quite a bit, so here is the whole thing, from the beginning all over again. (It’s not long, I promise, my editing was harsh). Please let me know what you think – I can take brutal honesty – I had plenty of practice last week.

Amy lay on her back, covered by the shell of a car. Only the rise and fall of her chest marked her out from the other bodies. The sun moved slowly across the sky, as though scanning for some form of live. It shone through the broken car window onto her face, and she stirred.

Her eyes flickered open. “Well,” she thought, “that’s that then.”

They had seen it coming, it wasn’t a surprise, the only real unknown being what kind of survivor she would be. Would she battle on regardless, fighting fate at every corner, or would she just close her eyes again? As it happened, her instincts took over and, driven purely by thirst, she eased herself out from the wreckage.

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Hello – I’m back!

What do you mean you hadn’t noticed I was gone? I’m hurt.

For four days and five nights last week, (yes I counted every precious hour), I was staying at Lumb Bank in West Yorkshire, formally owned by Ted Hughes, and now one of the inspiring properties belonging to The Arvon Foundation. I was staying with 15 other aspiring writers, indulging ourselves in an almost-week of writing, drinking and talking about books.

Our live-in tutors were the writers William Fiennes and Mark Haddon and they were both fantastic – so experienced and knowledgeable and generous with their time. Plus quite fanciable, which is always a bonus.

The picture is a view from Lumb Bank. You can see why you might be inspired can’t you?

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Last night I gave in to my most self-destructive instincts and went to see Sex and the City 2, knowing full well that I would come out feeling poor, fat and completely lacking in style. It’s a bit like drinking – you know you’ll feel bad about yourself the next day, but it’s fun at the time.

I’ve read some pretty shocking reviews, and it has been criticised heavily for the product placement bonanza, so as I pulled up at the cinema in my TVR Tuscan I was feeling a little anxious, hoping that I wasn’t wasting my one child free night out per fortnight. I stepped out of the car, smoothed down my Chanel shift dress and checked the time on my Rolex, gazing admiringly as the last of the day’s sun sparkled across its jewel encrusted face. I was just on time.

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