Had a bit of a huge weekend. Went down to Eastbourne on Thursday night with LBC making the M25 anti-clockwise a little more pleasant. Spent our first night in the flat on blow up camp beds which were more than adequate for our needs. Went the next day to town and sat outside Isobel's cafe which I think is the 'in' place to be. We sat there with a bacon sandwhich and watched the zimmer frames go by.

In the afternoon we took ourselves off to MFI and bought a kitchen! Tres bien. It is quite an amazing thing to watch the CAD design and produce your kitchen, amazing.. However, when the quote was too high and we asked to lose the "thrills" the nice salesman stopped buttering us up. Instead, when he saw we were bargain basement, the gloss dropped and his sales patter was more low fat margarine.

Saturday I spent most of the day erecting gazebos for my stepdad's mother's 90th birthday. The party was yesterday and was an enormous success, most of the ladies were dressed in Berkertex and the garden a sea of grey hair but we had a marvellous time.

We're off down to Eastbourne tonight, we haven't been there since the 17th June, what will our new neighbours think of us? Our mail must be stacking up in the communal stair well. They probably think we are a flighty pair, that or we are dead. I hope we don't get there and the door is off it's hinges.

We are going to MFI tomorrow as they have a half price sale on, I am clapping my hands with joy, a spanking new kitchen for Lola! It's all quite too much for a girl to take. My God I've grown up.

I am a little concerned, one of my beautiful boys from Malaga has his birthday tomorrow and our package has not yet arrived for him. I hope it gets there by the skin of its teeth because he 'turns' when he thinks folk have forgotten him. Their photographs of the ladyfriend and I in various relaxed poses with be torn to ribbons, such will be his frenzy.

Watched that vile creature Graham Norton last night - why has nobody told that man to stop? - glad I did though because K D Lang and the legendary Tony Bennett were on. How Ms Lang has bloated in the space of a few years, it must be all the tofu.

Did you know we spend more time at work than any other country? It's doing us no good. I want to be where the sun warms the sky, when it's time for siesta you can watch them go by. It's not like the continent when they have days off at a drop of a sombrero. All this hard work counts for nothing, we are the toilet of europe with a rail service worse than India, where is the logic? Perhaps it is the fault of a protestant religion. Perhaps we should revert to catholisicm, all those saints = lots of day's of. Still it could get a bit sticky for my 'side of the church', mind you all that free wine and wafers would make up for the homophobia.

On a more serious note get behind The Archbishop of Canterbury, Rowan Williams who knows, perhaps I won't always be the bridesmaid afterall!

Aah, I have just been harrassed by a young welsh woman working for British Gas, talk about breaking a girl in gently, it's only 9.05am and I have been steered into a direct debit I may live to regret.

The ladyfriend and I have an intelligent pheasant that comes to our garden. We have called him Piggy because of the huge amount of bird seed he consumes. It's really queer though because at the weekends he turns up from about 12pm onwards yet in the week he crashes into the garden about 7.30am. How does he know our movements? Do you think we are sitting on a gold mine and - with the appropriate training - we might enter him into a contest and scoop top prize?

Coming to work this morning I spotted three pensioners laden with shopping, why don't they space things out a little? They've got all day to do their shopping and nothing else to do but tend their bloody Dahlias. Perhaps it is the Wimbledon effect and they want to get all their 'jobs' done before Virginia Wade fills their horse brass filled sitting rooms.

My eyes don't feel puffy today, I was beginning to wonder if it was an adverse reaction to my impulse buy of odourless garlic tablets - good for the heart and circulation you know. I feel as right as rain now. A bit clammy, but I think that's something to do with the atmosphere at work.

I made a lovely potato salad last night, unfortunately I only had reduced calorie mayonaisse but it was made into a taste sensation with the addition of a healthy tablespoon of creme fraiche - there's a tip for you.

I am rather happy as I have changed my hours at work so that I don't have to start at 8am on a Wednesday. I have moved it to 9 instead, far more civilized. I have been doing the same ungodly hours for the last 5 years and it's telling on the complexion. I once had the skin of a princess, I now look not disimiliar to a cowboys arse.

My eyes feel bulbous today, I fear I may have developed hayfever, I suspect at this stage in my life it is down to GM crops. Last night I went to my first ever hen night, I had a lovely time but am slightly dissapointed as there were no chickens or eggs to be seen so I am left slightly perplexed and confused at this odd pre-marital tradition.

Yesterday the ladyfriend and I had a wonderful surprise whilst out shopping for a new sofa. We met Peter, a friend we both used to work with. We took tea with him at his house. It was wonderful to see him. He is a highly skilled dancer who has been in several productions (Evita no less) our own little Nureyev. I love serendipity, perhaps under Peter's tuition, I might master the rhumba.

I have banned all fun until the ladyfriend is better, as a consequence we have not gone to Eastbourne this weekend and are taking things one day at a time. I fed her steak and chips last night and all ready the colour has started to return to her cheeks.

I watched the sun rise this morning (what with it being Summer solstice and all) I bathed my face in the morning dew - supposed to do wonders for your complexion - my photographs of the splendid astronomical event can be seen if you click here

It's weird but at 4am my hair looks alright but at 9am it looks like Napoleon, what on earth happens in those five hours of sleep that turns me into a moose?

I am grieving today for my mini. She is gone from me. I had a bit of "moment" last night and was quite, quite upset. I don't know if it was to make me better but the ladyfriend said I could buy a new kitchen for the flat in Eastbourne before we did anything else..........I think I will take full advantage of her offer and milk my sadness. I am sure I will feel a lot better chop chopping on lovely worktops!

Caught a whole episode of Big Brother for the first time this year and I am aghast and a little moved to wonder what George Orwell would make of this cattle market of wannabies. I wonder - if he were alive today - would he have ever got out his trusty Remington if he knew what his dystopian novel was going to influence.
"If you want a picture of the future, imagine a boot stamping on a human face--for ever." Imagine reality tv forever. That fills me with more horror than an intrusively bureaucratized state. Bring back the potter's wheel.

I was up at the crack of dawn yesterday. At 6 am my heart was racing and I took myself off to feed the birds whilst I tried to get a grip on the situation. It was like a hundred job interviews and a hundred Christmas day's at the same time!
We got the call from Michele with one L at 10:56 telling us the flat was ours. We were off down to Eastbourne with a fridge rattling in the back and a wealth of expectations.
Waltzed into Andrews the estate agent to pick up the keys (really, they are awful) and climbed the communal stairs of flat ownership. Tried to get in the wrong flat at first (I was excited.)
The ladyfriend and I sat elated on the living room carpet which was full of dents where furniture once stood. The place needs a good lick of paint and the kitchen needs ripping out but it's fab, fantastic and it's ours.

Well, I am a flurry of emotions. In 24 hours the ladyfriend and I will have the flat in Eastbourne, I have just learnt that an Antipodean pixie will buy Blanche my beautiful mini and last night I saw the wonderful Eddie Reader sing. Life can not get any better for Lola.

I am sad about Blanche but glad she is going to a careful and considerate mini lover. My Mother has given the Ladyfriend and I a bottle of Veuve Clicquot and I am sure that will cushion the blow.

I am a bit mixed up and lost for words today, I feel like a kiddy giddy with excitement on Christmas Eve. I shall write more in my journal on Wednesday.

I am not adjusting well to being a Ford Fiesta driver. I seem to be completely invisible to other road users. People seem to walk all over me. It was my right away last night (it was even sign posted so) and a stream of twat yuppies coming out of the new health club trampled all over me. I had to pap my horn and all kinds. Infact, it was a bit of a close shave as one of the drivers was a black girl and it was just my luck she drove past as I was mouthing "anker". Now I look like some kind of racist.

My long time companion, the ladyfriend, is having a time of it. The fever has gripped her and tormenting nightmares have set upon her. Last night I heard a disturbance downstairs fallowed by a cough. "It's just the ladyfriend" I thought, probably getting herself some light refreshment. This morning I found out she had fallen down the stairs!

I hope she is right as rain for Sunday as we have tickets to see Eddi Reader the greatest singer left on earth now Frank Sinatra has passed over. I am very excited. She's the best.

My mini has now passed its MOT and is taxed up the eyeballs and ready to roll off the forecourt. I am rather sad as we've been through a lot together. She symbolizes freedom for me, she gave me back confidence, she got me from A to B and now she has to go. I'm not losing a car , I'm gaining a sofa. If anyone is interested in a beautiful car for £800 ono email: lola@lifeforlola.co.uk

I've been driving the ladyfriend's fiesta - who is incidentally off work with a filthy cold - it's incredibly difficult to adjust to. It feels like driving an articulated lorry after the mini. Just when I think I have got the hang of it and I am motoring along I look down and I'm only going at 20mph. I need re-educating in the ways of the gear stick.

Today I am dressed for the holiday camp as I hear it's going to be 72 degrees, I work in greenhouse like conditions so you have to double that and add some. It's not going to do my pores any good and that's the truth.

Football tonight, that should be painful.

I saw on the news this morning that the Princess Royal is off down to Eastbourne today, my she has good taste. I hope the press packs do not trample on the carpet gardens. I was also watching in quiet bemusement at the amount of people who enter number 10 downing street before 8am. There I was with my wholemeal toast listening to some ropey old bird talking about the Euro when countless people knocked on the black door. In and out like a vet's right arm they were.

I also looked in horror at that midget viking woman who does the travel news on the "news in your area section". She is always dressed a little too casual for my taste and her expression is one of someone who has just been shot out of a cannon.

Late entry today, I have been busy writing frightening verse to a bucktooth girl in Luxemburg. Who else watched it last night? Bloated and camp but still wonderful, there's no chance of Morrissey turning up on "I'm a celebrity revive my career".
Had a diverting weekend. Friday I was tight on Harvey Wallbangers - badly influenced by a woman called Dawn who could show Richard Burton a thing or two. Saturday I broke down in a garden centre and yesterday we went to Brighton for a tip toe round the shops.
Errr, got my call up papers for the old scrape - has it really been three years? Must ring and sort that one out.
Met Michele with one L today. Gave her vast sums of money, she is a very nice woman, very posh and high flying. It must be an internal struggle for women like her, half of her yearning to sit at home with a knitting pattern from People's Friend and the other half wanting to mix it with the big boys. Oh well, she's done us proud and I will recommend her to all and sundry.

I've been rushed off my little trotters this morning. Rushing from pillar to post with the wind firmly battering my sails. Hirdy Girdy indeed. Downed a
bottle of wine and a punnet of Houmous last night. How did that happen? I was duped by the ladyfriend. We were chatting away in the kitchen and I saw her with the bottle opener but didn't compute. Before I knew it I heard "Thwook" and the cork was out and a glass was in my hand. It all happened so quickly there was nothing I could do. It was a bit like those accidents when children get run over chasing a ball. Terrible.
I have decided I have a fight on my hands if I wish to retain my girlish figure. The ladyfriend is definitely a feeder.

Driving to work this morning I suddlenly realised that I can't remember the last time I knew what record was number one. The hit parade is a complete unknown to me. Is this because I am advancing in years? Is it a good thing? My exposure to popular music these days comes through advertisements and the occasional few bars I snatch when entering boutiques in the misguided attempt to look smart but casual.

Couldn't sleep a wink last night, I don't know if it was all the excitement of the imminent move or a particularly engaging episode of "Cutting it" but I was burning like a lady in Salem till the wee small hours. I had to get up and play Fifa 98 football on the computer.
I am obviously now, very, very tired and it's a miracle I made it to work in one piece. I had to concentrate extremely hard at the wheel. It didn't help listening to the soporific overtones of the Cocteau Twins. I did notice a quirk in my driving which I don't know if anyone else shares. I have this habit of when the road user in front of me slows down and turns off I have to have a look where they are going. I was coming along a normally uneventful stretch of road when I had to stop whilst a Nissan Micra turned right into a badly paved driveway which I had never noticed. I gave the place a good old gawp before proceeding. PourQuoi? Why indeed.

The most fantastic news! Michele with one L has just phoned me and told me we've exchanged! our date for completion is 17th June. Eastbourne here we come!

Sat in the garden this morning and listened to the blackbirds, wrens, sparrows, wood pigeons on the wing and the ford fiestas and mondeos on the M40. It was a joy to behold as my mouth assimulated a bolus of toast.
I am a little disturbed by the Ladyfriend and her capacity to drink. We had a chikky tikky masala last night - which is not on for a school night in the first place. Wine accompanied the blow out, lager was sliding down the ladyfriend's neck faster than a bobsleigh and after watching the Darling Buds of May the ladyfriend suggested opening a bottle of red! I put a stop to it then and there. Trouble with the ladyfriend is she never knows when to put the plug in.
The Barefoot doctor would be spinning in his patchouli oil if he could see us last night. I must go and rub my kidneys for relief.

Today has been one of those odd days. Phone call from Michele with one L - our solicitor - giving us the amazing news that we might be moving in two weeks (If all goes well and the devil doesn't have his way) Fantastic, atlast at 32 I shall have a little piece of England which I can call home. So there I am on a high, get to work and find my photoshop has gone tits up because, whilst I have been away, the goblins have attacked my machine. I face a barrage of shite from all over the place about this, that and the other, but to be honest I just don't care. Pride in my work I have none, interest in my work zilch. To be honest it's all a bit too "local" at the local newspaper. I see Eastbourne as a light at the end of an extremely long tunnel which has been dragging on for two years. "Stay away from the light Carol Anne".......no chance, I'll be working on the seafront faster than you can say "Cod and chips twice".