I am lying in bed in a neck brace watching Foxy Knoxy’s trial in Italy on the TV. How could I have lost it? My Fireman, Stripper and Carousel went without a hitch, I even managed a few Christina Aguilera’s but as I flicked my legs up into my favourite position, the one that always wows my friends, the one that you see in the picture, I got the fear, I told myself I was going to fall and fall I did, right on my head.

What a blinking idiot. I mean, I should know. I am always telling friends to fight the fear and do it anyway. Hours of listening to the genius that is Dr Wayne Dyer on Hay House Radio should have brainwashed me into realizing that the laws of attraction will bring you whatever you want once you are plugged into it – negative or positive. So by saying “I am going to fall”, I should hardly be surprised that ‘by the powers of Greyskull’ the universe would react to my thoughts and send me plummeting to my embarrassing end. Why don’t I ever listen to my own bloody advice? I am always telling the kids to think positively.

Sid and Nancy both started – around the age of two – to develop this human thing we call fear – and I worked out that it was coming from the reactions of people around them, especially me and Mr Was Right – so I changed the way I reacted. Now if Sid falls over I don’t crumple my brow and go “Oooooeeeyeowch”. I smile, lift him up and say , “Great skills stunt boy”. If Nancy gets stuck up a tree and thinks she can’t climb back down, I don’t run to save her, unless she really is in a life threatening situation. I get her to say “I can do it, I can do it” and both kids now say “I can do it, I can do it” and jump from heights that make me and other playground parents squirm while I wait at base camp smiling a big smile, albeit with gritted teeth.

But it’s all very well telling your kids to change their negatives to positives when you don’t do the same yourself. I write in my affirmations book: if things don’t work out the way I plan I won’t try and push them to work anymore, I will say “Sobeit” and submit to the universe’s grand plan. From now on when I swing my legs up on the pole I will say “I can do it, I can do it,” just as, if a friend loses their job, I now say congratulations, if someone dies I crack open the champagne, if someone’s relationship breaks up I now pip, “How exciting, a new one around the corner.” As Dr Wayne Dyer preaches, ” Change your thoughts, change your life.” Like pole dancing you could be surprised at how incredibly liberating you find it.

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So you want to know how the story ended with Mr Sweden? Come on I know you have been itching to hear all week, and what a week! Jan and Joachim have texted and emailed with fighting talk. In a nutshell, Jan has decided he is going to be in charge of the talking and J is in charge of the naughty stuff. What are these Scandos like? The email trail has become so hysterical I feel duty bound to share a few extracts thus far following on from a sharp retort I sent after they dubbed me their “mutual girlfriend”:

From J To Jan, Abitight

Abeeee..You’re just full of surprises .. A characteristic we both value!

Explanation .. Me, Scared? Hun, you can’t build a sentence with those words and include my name .. It just doesn’t work 😉 Well ok, seeing as you are such a fab chick, I’ll try to explain what was going on in my head (remember the marbles had still not come back home at the time). Jan’s nickname for you is now “our mutual girlfriend”. I believe he sees it along the lines of him taking care of the talking, which only leaves me with the naughty stuff, but I can live with that, since he’s my best mate and you are just awesome. OK back to the explanation …

Jan is, correction, WAS my stylist .. Haven’t told him yet but he’s fired! It’s now every man for himself 😉 This stuff about tripping each other on the way to our double date, which should have turned out differently if you had pulled a date for Janny as instructed. Focus baby!

OK, OK back to the explanation .. I was merely looking to stir up some fun by sending the text to both of you .. I gather now it was somewhat far-fetched or possibly just way too brilliant .. Jan replied “what?” You replied “I’m confused” .. So, it didn’t work .. You choose the reason, I am from a neutral country 🙂

J x

From Jan To J, Abitight
J, you are the most confusing person I know… Why the hell have you fired me???
You picked up Abi after being styled by me. After that, it´s been downhill. Me and Abi have a much deeper relationship than a cave man like you could ever understand. I will keep an eye on you two…Looking forward to Abi fixing me up with a hot date nearer the end of the week

jan the man xx

From AbiTight to J, Jan

Hey Jan…Looks like the hot date might just be you and me the way J is behaving, although I am not sure I really believe his hard man act! I think he’s bonkers about me.

This is all a bit Swedish. When I am not laughing, I am feeling a tiny bit scared!

X Abi

Since you are wondering, I never went to bed with either of them following that Mansion night. While they were waiting for a taxi I slunk off in my heels and walked home without even a kiss goodbye, which got me top points for adding to mystique from Virginia and J and Jan, who had slipped his business card into my pocket an hour or so earlier. I texted the next day, Jan passed on J’s number, J was clearly text-cited and fixed up a date for three TO-NIGHT. The RSVP that I am not into threesomes had clearly not put him off. I figured that was probably what they were angling for in the first place.

“What!” yells Virginia, on our regular roller-skating jaunt around the park. “You turned down two gorgeous Swedish men for what could have been the most amazing experience of your life? Abi, Abi, Abi…my cousin Tarka swears by threesomes. She’s had two guys on a leash for the past year. They visit her once a month, everyone knows where they stand, no-one gets hurt and Tarka says it is the best sex she has ever had.”

“I’d just be too busy laughing to concentrate on the job in hand,” I say. “Plus they’d be discussing the old Venus fly trap the next day. It would make me paranoid. Besides I got a real date instead. Who knows where it may lead?”

J says as Janni is only in town for the weekend he is coming and asks if I can bring someone else. I had Janey ready to go up until five mnutes ago but she’s called to say her baby is sick and her blokie won’t let her go as he’s too nervous to be left with the baby alone so here I am Abi-no-mates, sitting in a restaurant between two drop dead gorgeous guys. Fantaseeeeee Isssssllllllllannnnnd.
“You really let Janny down, Abigail,” says J half-joking while squeezing my knee.

I try to make up for my lack of attractive girlfriend by paying Jan lots of attention. Turns out he works as a location scout internationally for a famous fast food company although it clearly grates on the guy as he tells me it is his job “to make people fat”. No wonder he jumped at the chance to eat sushi tonight. J, meanwhile, is unemployed having recently been made redundant by a company who staffs hotels and fancy apartment blocks. I give them the whole Abi Tight sob story over a sushi platter before J pipes up.

“Spearmint Rhino??”

Well of course I couldn’t say no. Remember Mr Was Right’s receipts? I had to witness first-hand what he saw in the place.

Mr Was Right is around this morning looking super-grumpy and super-tired which explains why the kids are trying desperately to get his attention. “Dad, Dad, can you do this?” says Sid. “Hold your willy in one hand, point your gun in the air and go ‘whooooo, whooooo’.” Mr Was Right attempts a smile, “Sid. That is just what every man would like to do when he wakes up. I’ll definitely try it tomorrow morning.”

He gets our two dressed before chucking a man’s idea of kids’ breakfast down them. 2 Kit Kats, 2 Fruit Shoots and a shared pack of Twiglets later they head off into the misty morning waved off by Mama Tight, who, dressed rather decadently in silk pjs, quietly thanks the God of Separation she won’t have to deal with the additive and sugar-fuelled fireworks going off in the Audi in approximately 1 minute. Screeeeeeeeech…..I shut the door knowing Sid is getting the fourth degree for calling his Dad a “buttcrack” or such like.  

This morning was a toughie. Mr Was Right dropped the bombshell I’ve been dreading for the last 2 months. He told me to – GET A BLOODY JOB. And, well, I kind of had to agree with him. The blog is hardly paying for itself, the kids are at school most of the day and I am starting to feel RSI nerve twinges – thanks to my social media addiction. I need to get out more. Text goes out.

Work is fast becoming a necessity. Any inspired suggestions?

Brrrrr Forget anything child-related, seeing how you lost Jamie the last time I asked you to watch him for 5 minutes in Ikea;)) x Vag

Brrr Given up on the dating site idea then? Xx Janey

Brrrrr With your heels and Dominatrix disposition, you’d make a great door bitch, Ms Tight. Oh and what happened to the pole-dancing? x G

I knew I shouldn’t have told G about the lessons I have been doing on and off for the past 6 months and I know what you are thinking. You need a job. You can poledance. Go figure? Believe me, I’ve tossed that idea around but, while I’ve got nothing against poledancers, doing it for a living would jar with my Goddess principles. Dancing provocatively in front of leery blokes can’t do much for your self-esteem and I haven’t got much of that left these days. It would also probably put me off the male of the species which isn’t really the best position to be in when you are signing up with dating agencies. Besides, who wants a 30 something when there are all those beautiful teenage Croatians, Latvians and Hungarians doing their do in the clubs?

I had better add a few normal jobs to my CV. Not sure former model, kiss n tell blogger, tarot reader, twitterer, jolly good friend, reiki practitioner, pole dancing practitioner and rambunctious raconteur will go down too well in the current job marketplace. Or would it? Can you think of a career that embraces all my finer qualities? Please be kind.