My new BFF

I've made a new BFF (that's Best Friend Forever, for all readers over 43).

She's come into my life at just the right time and really opened my eyes I can tell you.
I've known about her for a while, (she's not as old as me, just turned 20) and always wanted to meet her but never had the opportunity.  (I've met plenty of her not-so-nice acquaintances)
I'm a bit cross with my other friends actually, because I'm positive they must have known her but have never introduced us (which is a bit mean)!
I wasn't sure we'd get along but it's going great so far, she's just blended into my day nicely.  Mind you, I wasn't best please about having to traipse to Debenhams to meet her, Boots would  have been more convenient, but her parents don't want  her to mix with the riff raff (she's French you know).  

OK, I'm going to shut up now for fear of losing my 'lads' and 'dads' audience as I'm sure they haven't got a  clue what I'm banging on about.  (I was going to say a 'bloody' clue, but I've discovered (and banned) my son using this word in cyberspace so I'd  better practice what I preach)


My three-month-old blog has just tipped 4,100 hits so I'm chuffed to bits once more, especially with my friend Jim (that IS his real name by the way, (see previous blog)), who said: "Dianne - your blog had me in fits of laughter.   Brilliant." 
(Thanks Jim)
My joy, however, was short-lived when my blood pressure rose again thanks to the arrival of the latest seasonal 'stock phrase', annually coined by none other than my own husband!

Golf shop customer: "Awful weather again today."
Husband: "Yes, but at least we're going the right way now."

What's that supposed to mean?  What's the bloody (sorry, old habits die hard) alternative?  Wasn't it Michael J Fox and that crazy-haired doc chappy who tried to go the other way?  Should we buy a DeLorian as our next car and hang some wires from the courthouse clock?  (I don't even think my town has a court house, certainly not one with a clock anyway)

I love writing and if I make anyone laugh, that's a huge bonus.  I've decided, besides my day job and my blog, to see if there's any mileage in getting paid a bob or two to string a few sentences together again (I am, don't you know, an NCTJ-trained journalist no less!).
The very first copywriting agency I contacted made me weep (with both sadness and laughter at the same time, if that's possible).
In response to my e.mail, an 'employee' at the agency replied that they would keep my CV on file but (and I quote), "We don't really get broefed on part time or job sahare roles to be honest."
I was rendered speechless (for once) but forwarded the full e.mail to my 'far more eloquent than me' friend, who summed it up nicely by replying: "Oh dear God!......Now I'm truly scared for the future of our nation....."
Amen to that.

(Think my CV might be filed under B for bin if the agency reads this blog so, dear friends, sshhhhh, like the YSL Touche Eclat, let's keep it between ourselves eh?!). 

Why did nobody tell me, with a little help from my new friend, I could look my age and not my shoe size - times ten!