Mama mia, I've been kicked in the head!

Hello there! Well, it's been hectic in my little world again so I apologise for not updating sooner but I have been run off my not so little feet.

Saturday ended up in a terrible way. There is nothing more tragic than a drunken 30 something being carried home by her boyfriend as her new platform shoes refuse to stay on her feet (god, they were like missiles; they just kept shooting off my feet at random angles thus attacking unsuspecting drinkers with my rogue slingbacks).

Tom and I ended up quaffing champagne in a bar close to his house and although I began the evening with a full on glamour assault (I had even cracked the whole "eyeliner" application problem and looked nice and smokily attractive rather than looking like I'd been punched in the face by a coal miner - I hope you are impressed Saskia!) However, despite my new dress, my new (deathtrap) heels and lashings and lashings of make up and hairspray (I think I might actually have constituted a fire hazard) it all went a little awry after we shared the second bottle. (I don't suppose it helped that we had also knocked a hole in a load of Lamb's navy rum before we went out - now don;t tell me that I'm not glam; navy rum is definitely comparable to a Mojito in the glamour stakes!)
We yapped and yapped all night and although I got lost on the way back from the toilets and made an impromptu appearance into the restaurant through a fire door,we had a lovely time. Tom maintains though that after the first bottle, i didn't so much drink the champagne as see how much I could throw over him as apparently I became rather animated and was waving my hands around whilst talking and forgetting I had my champagne flute in my hand. Ever the retiring wallflower - again.

When we left, my shoes really did develop a life of their own and in the end I was forced to wrench them off and walk home barefooted. Never a good idea in March. Tom took pity on me and tried to carry me but my skirt was so short I ended up flashing my nethers to a passing Mondeo so i thought better of it.

I ended up on his sofa howling as I had feet that resembled frozen mince and chucking the ruddy shoes into the fireplace in frustration. Tom obviously goes out with me for my demure and shy, retiring demeanour.

Sunday was spent trying to pretend I wasn't suffering from Europe's worst hangover which all came to a head over the salad bar in Morrison's. In a failed attempt to find Tom's local B&Q, (it had closed down the year before) we ended up on a carbs run in Morrison but I was attacked by a wave of guilt and stepped away from the doughnuts and towards the salad. Error. There is nothing more likely to induce a hangover than the sight of a rather tired looking supermarket salad bar where there is a pyramid of greying boiled eggs alongside a reeking tuna pasta salad mountain. We had to scuttle back into the car fairly quickly and I spent the rest of the day fanning myself with a copy of heat and watching back to back episodes of come dine with me. Amazing how a few fashion pages and a nose into other people's kitchens can cheer you up!

This week's been parents'e evening at school which had its ususal mix of the random and the ridiculous. Bearing in mind that my class are only 10 and 11, here are some of the highlights of comments from the parents

He's not the gangsta he thinks he is; he's a pussy

He doesn't do weightlifting, we sold the free weights with the caravan

Do you think that it's OK for them to play "grand theft auto" or watch "saw"?

I'm sorry I was late; I've just been kicked in the head playing football (one of the mothers!)

I've checked the whole family's hair for nits, and the dog too.

I love my job. It's a constant source of sunshine in my somewhat dreary days!

Anyway, it's all done now and tonight I'm off to Streetdance with my mates again. Apparently tonight is all to the music from Mama Mia so I'm off to pull on my 70s Abba flared catsuit and glitter. Brilliant, a load of 30 and 40 somethign women leaping around in a school hall to 70s retro songs. I love it!

Also went to look round that school I was interested in. The staff were lovely but it actually made me realise that I think I need to go for headship so I've decided I'm going to stay at my place for the next year until our next Ofsted and then apply for a headship position. Better get my act together before then I guess! My mum reckons I need an easy year with no disruption anyway after the last year I've had. Guess she's got a point. So, it's sitting tight for now until the right school comes up.

Anyway, will sign off for now. Need to go and do some lunges before our Mama mia fiasco!

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX