The uber-bloggers and me

It’s been three months since I started this blog. I’ve shared tales about: projectile vomits; a ‘hole’ that got me into a spot of bother with my son; corporate bitches (namely me); and women who hide their motherhood at work. I’m proud of my little repertoire that has no common theme, apart from its randomness.

In the past three months I’ve also immersed myself in other blogs. The funny, the sad, the mummy, the bad (as in ‘cool’, sorry, it needed to rhyme) – the blogosphere is brimming with talent. Talent I wish I could emulate.

So, when I was offered the chance to meet some talented bloggers at an evening promising ‘fine wine, cheese and a spot of pampering’, I lunged at the chance like a desperate single at an airborne wedding bouquet.

Sex and negative equity

We are facing financial ruin thanks to having sex. A moment of passion about five years ago triggered a chain of events that ended with our membership of the exclusive negative equity club.

Confessions of a 'BC' bitch

Recently, I blogged about women hiding their motherhood at work. With the likes of me, is it really any wonder? I was a corporate bitch clambering my way to the top. If anyone got in my way I would stab them with my heel, chew them up and spit them out - especially any of those soft-assed working-mum types.

Beware the 8 o'clock fairies

Yep...got bed-time totally under control.

The 8 o’clock fairies are my friends. I call on them at bedtime when my kids run rings around me with nappies on their heads (kid you not - see photographic evidence to right) and I’m gasping at the thought of a glass of wine.

The fake expat

I am a fake expat. That means I get to live as an expat in my own country. If you ask me, I’m probably the luckiest expat on this planet.

“Huh? “I hear you say. “What’s that melodramatic woman going on about now?”

Ok (deep breath). Here’s the deal…here’s my story.