Hi Guys, its Jared. So I’m hooking up this cruise thing. I’m thinking June instead of May this year. Whatta ya think? Love Jared

‘Sup Jared. WORD! Love, NKOTB

Hi Guys, its Jared So I booked that big ass boat again that everyone hated last year. More capacity = more $$$’s! Am thinking of dragging some dinghys behind the ship this year too. We’ll call them ‘floatable rooms with a sea view’. Anyways, let’s announce it 3 days before they need to book so we can capture the ‘panic buyer crowd’. Love Jared.

‘Sup Jared. WORD! Love, NKOTB

Hi Guys, its Jared OK, we’re good to go. I’ve put together a cruise video. Start tweeting the link out! Even you Joe! Jordan, this is going to coincide nicely with the release of Like A Wave so tweeting your song lyrics will get people in a beachy mood. LETS SAIL THIS! woooooooo! Love Jared.

‘Sup Jared. WORD! Love NKOTB

lol. OK maybe not exactly like that…..but that’s what it feels like! haha!

Anyway, enough of all that. The cruise goes on sale tomorrow, so here is my ‘alternative’ guide to the cruise…

Booking the cruise

On a scale of 1 to 10, booking the cruise registers at about a 9 on the stress scale. You basically need to take the entire day off work ad formulate a plan of attack with your besties to make sure that you come out top in the game of ‘who can refresh the fastest’. I advise having the following at hand on booking day.

• Sit on something comfortable. A couch, a bed, your ass….whatever is soft on your butt cheeks….cause you are gonna be there for a long time!
• Surround yourself with sugary food and drink. You will need the energy by about hour two of the booking process.
• Make sure your BB or iPhone is fully charged and you are in constant contact with your ‘team’.
• If you have more than one computer in your house, use them all, running between the two, refreshing like a mad thing.
• If you are a smoker, buy a carton.
• Do not answer the door to anyone! Do not leave your computer. Even if your house is on fire.
• Animals, children and husbands need to be sent away for the day. They only provide a distraction.
• Wear army pants. This is war after all.
• If you feel faint, it will pass. Drink some Red Bull and carry on.

Once your finally navigate your way through the mine field of server crashes, page time outs and infuriating messages telling you you’ve spelt your own name wrong……success….you get right to the end and then…..TIME OUT! I call it the ‘Yippeee yippeeee, NOOOOOOOOOO’ phase. If that happens you have no time to lick your wounds and look for sympathy from your friends on Twitter at your misfortune. Everyone is secretly glad that you’ve failed miserably cause it means more tickets for them. Suck it up and start again. Wash, rinse, repeat this process and if you are lucky you will end up with a cabin the size of a postage stamp, in the bowels of the boat not dissimilar to where they stored all the Irish people on the Titanic.

The minute you have secured yourself a cabin, be sure to get your ass straight back on Twitter and spend the next 7 hours smugly tweeting to anyone that will listen about your good fortune. Even if your finger has gone numb from all the refreshing, make sure you act like it was all very easy. This will infuriate and annoy the people still trying to get a room and will increase the possibility of them giving up. Also, for extra annoyability credit, be sure to blow up your favourite New Kids timeline by tweeting to them over and over again ‘See you on the boat!!! Squeeeeee!!!’. Your million sisters love that shit. lol

So how much do the cabins cost?

A lot. That’s all you need to know. It’s about 3 times the price of a regular cruise….but you do get a very snazzy goody bag. In fact, I would go just for the NKOTB passport holder and chapstick.

Countdown to the cruise

So booking is done. You’re as broke as a herpes riddled hooker. You’ve waited 10 whole months and finally its the week before the cruise!!! NK have just announced all of the theme nights…..yes a whole 7 days to plan outfits for 4 separate theme nights. If you live in the UK, where the shops shut at 5pm everyday that means you literally have 1 day to do ALL of your shopping. Your stress levels start to soar again as you traipse around TopShop looking for a something that you can pass off as a toga, finally resorting to bed sheets as your rock slowly back and forth crying. Not to mention the manicure, pedicure, tanning, tooth whitening, weave ordering, fucking nail polish fucking colour selection, accessories, hats, glasses….the list is endless. By the time you actually get on the boat you feel physically and emotionally exhausted! And all of this to achieve the highly sort after ‘naturally, sexy’ look. I don’t think men realise how much makeup and effort is required to make it look like we are wearing no makeup. urgh!

Arriving at the Port

Arrival at the Port is traumatic to say the least. As the taxi starts to pull up and you see that long ass line full of people who look like they’ve had a fight with the New Kids Merch stand and lost, it will begin to dawn on you that you are going to be on a boat with a bunch of scary people who like to pee in their pants and change their tampons in the middle of the Lido deck. Uncontrollable sweating and urge to turn back is not uncommon. Then of course there is the whole getting out of the taxi in front of a line of staring women, all looking you up and down. I usually put my glasses on at this point and scuttle with my suitcase behind the nearest grassy knoll. To be fair the line moves fairly quick. If you haven’t passed out from heat exhaustion by the time you get inside you are doing well.

Checking in

Checking in can be super exciting or soul-destroying. Its at this point where you find out where your room is and more importantly, what colour wristband you’ve been assigned. The wristband basically rules your life for the next 4 days. It’s welded to your arm by an angry-looking Rose Tours rep and by God you cannot get that thing off. That wristband laughs in the face of a pair of scissors! The colour of your wristband tells you where you will be seated for all shows. If you happen to pull an awesome seat right near the front, be sure to make this known to everyone waiting in line by squealing loudly, high-fiving your besties and hyperventilating like a Miss Iowa. This tells everyone else, that YOU are Queen of the seating chart!

So, you are on the boat now what?

Obviously the first thing you need to do when get aboard is go and try to find the NK’s rooms. This isn’t as hard as it sounds. Just go up and down in the elevator a few times and someone will be talking loudly about how their room is like “OMG right next Jon’s on the 6th floor!”. Proceed immediately and with haste to aforementioned floor and just spend the next two hours, hanging out in the corridor attempting to flirt with the only guy that stands between you and a romantic meeting with Joe……Earl. If you do happen to bump into a new kid at any point be sure to let as many people as possible know. Even if they are not interested, tell them anyway. Sisters love to hear about other sisters good fortune. lol. Be sure to start every conversation with ‘So, have you had any encounters yet?”. That’s pretty much the first thing anyone said to me when I met them. My pessimistic brain took this to mean that they had so I would just say no quickly so they could get on with telling me all the details of how Danny brushed past them at the buffet. Smile, laugh, be enthusiastic through gritted teeth and if they patronisingly say to you at the end ‘oh well, I’m sure you’ll have some luck soon’ before breezing off in a cloud of smugness, avoid the urge to slit their throat with your Sign and Sail card.

The events

The events are great when they are organised. When they are not, they are a living hell. Point in case, last years backrub! Did that shit go down!!!! woah! Back the fuck off bitches!! Never in my life have I seen so much insanity trying to get into a show where you watch a 40 something guy lick his lips and do suggestive things with fruit. I didn’t go to the backrub but from what I saw and heard of it, I’m glad I didn’t. Rose Tours were about as useful as a chocolate teapot when it came to gaining control. I think they vastly underestimated the power of stupid people in large groups. Pushing, shoving, shouting, punching, weave pulling, crying and to top it all off…..some enterprising biyatches were selling the FREE Backrub bracelets they got from Donnie to other fans. hahaha! Of course, the moral police immediately condemned these ‘evil’ girls as taking advantage of their sisters. I saw it slightly differently. If you are dumb enough to pay someone 200 dollars for their bracelet then that’s up to you. If you are not a Donnie girl and he gave you a bracelet anyway, you need to recoup your losses somehow. lol

Jordan’s Stretchify was a more relaxed affair but essentially we are all going to the Lido deck to watch a guy wriggle his butt around a bit whilst listening to his latest album! Whilst there was no kung fu fighting in JK’s Yoga den, there was the hideous sight of a chick having her period whilst stretching out in her bikini and NOT wanting to lose her spot so badly that she just let it all go in front of everyone!!! For real, WTF? She didn’t even bother to quickly fashion her towel into a fetching sarong to cover it up. That incident combined with the girls who relieved themselves on the Lido Deck is enough of an indication to me that some people have lost their god damn minds. Even if Jordan was laying in front of me stark, bollock naked, with a semi, singing IBLYF whilst inviting me to ‘Jump on’ there is no god damn way I would be going anywhere other than the nearest bathroom. I hope NK seriously consider putting Depends and tampons in the goody bags this year.

VIP

People constantly want to know what the deal is with VIP on the cruise and how you get up there. It’s quite simple. You got regular VIP and elite VIP. You need a VIP bracelet to get into regular VIP. These can be obtained in one of the following ways:

• Just be really hot
• Being hot and brunette increases your chances 3 fold.
• Being hot, latina and slightly chunky in the ass area increases your chances 10 fold with 3/5 of the New Kids.
• If you are blonde, be really blonde and hang round Joe like a lost Golden Retriever.
• If you are not hot, hang out with hot people.
• Suck up to the people who were up there last year
• Raise a million dollars for Komen and make sure Danny knows about it
• Be really rich. This means that fans that have ‘ins’ will wanna hang out with you.
• Win some beach games. Offer to hold the limbo pole. Provide emergency medical assistance to an NK member suffering from heat stroke.
• Do so many Ultimates and 5 stars that even the NK’s forget that you are not actually in the band.
• Suck up to Johnny and get your name on his swanky iPad list.
• Find Donnie and tell him that your dog died. He’ll give you a sympathy pass.

Elite VIP

• Invite by the band only
• Generally reserved for people they know aren’t gonna act all crazy, take a gazillion photos and generally be a big ole hot mess when in close proximity to a New Kid.

Things that won’t get you into VIP

• Blowing a member of the NK entourage. This may get you into regular VIP but not Elite.
• Blowing a member of Rose Tours security.
• Flashing your breasts (debatable)
• Grinding against a pole.
• Kidnapping lumpy.

At the end of the day, this is a tongue in cheek look at the cruise. Essentially, we all love it and if it wasn’t for crazy people doing crazy things, we would have nothing to talk about it! So my friends, good luck tomorrow. I hope you get the cabin you are after. If you could all hold off booking until I’ve got mine, that would be awesome. See ya on the boat.

LETS SAIL THIS!!! NKOTB CRUISE 2012!!!!

Ahhh those pesky New Kids! I really should be saving all my money so I can buy my house but once again my heart and throbbing loins over-ruled my head and no sooner could you say “It’s getting hotter than The Block up in the summertime” I had my ass planted firmly in seat 22D on a Virgin Atlantic flight and was headed across the pond to shove $20 dollar bills in Jordan Knight’s not so tight Papi pants.

I just like to start off by saying that you are damn lucky I am even here to write this blog after the somewhat traumatic incident on the plane. I’m a nervous flyer at the best of times and what I don’t want to hear as we are coming into land at JFK airport is the pilot telling me there are strong cross winds so it may be a little “bumpy”. A little bumpy?? He crashed that plane into the runway so hard that all the oxygen masks deployed. We then proceeded to skid from side to side down the runway. Some people screamed, some people whooped, some people let out a little bit of pee and found Jesus. I fell into the latter category. Sooo, when Captain Kangaroo finally managed to find the brakes we all got off, happy to be alive and proceeded to Immigration. Oh what fun that was! The biggest line you have ever seen in your life. I mean, I know security is tight at US airports but honestly, 3 fingerprints, a photo and an interrogation as to why you are there? What do they expect people to say….”yeah, I’m here to overthrow the American Government and install a NEW government made up entirely of monkies”. When your flight is a Jumbo Jet carrying 600 passengers this whole process takes an eternity. 2 hours later, still in line. By the time I got to the front of the line I had lost the will to live and was kind of staring into space like a zombie not realising that the Immigration official was calling me to come to the booth. I apologised for my spaciness and he smiled and said to me “it was worth the wait!!” SCORE! I’m barely in the country and border security is already trying to flirt with me. That’s more action than I’ve had for an entire year in London. God Bless America and its banner of spangled stars!

So I get out of the airport and jump in a taxi with some other UK Blockheads that were on my flight and we speed off towards Manhatton to our hotels. This was my 13th time in New York but I still get excited coming over the hill and seeing the NY skyline for the first time. There were 5 of is in the taxi going to 3 different hotels. This caused the Chinese driver to freak out and shout at us (imagine this in broken English and at 100 decibels) “I not go to 3 hotels! Flat rate only for 1 hotel. You pay on metre for other hotel. As I was the only one in the taxi who had a) been shouted at by an NYC taxi driver many times and b) lives in London and so is used to dealing with assholes, it was left to me to battle it out with our shitty cab driver. Told him to take us to The Muse Hotel where some of the girls were staying and I would walk to my hotel. He wasn’t happy but meh, fuck him. lol. Don’t mess with a Brit who hasn’t had a ciggie or a coffee for 10 hours.

So we got to The Muse hotel and I said goodbye to the girls and dragged my suitcase 2 blocks to my hotel. This was made more difficult due to the fact that it was 7pm in the evening and the shole area around Times Square was packed with people waiting to get in to the various theatres that were scattered around. Finally got to my room at about 7:30pm. Hotel was lovely and the room was bigger than I was expecting. Jen and MC were driving from Montreal with an ETA of the everso convenient 3am….Jen had to attend her son’s graduation. She said she felt bad leaving in the middle so would come after. Children….always fucking up our NKOTB schedule!! lol. I had the opportunity to go to the show that night but it was too late and I was too tired so decided to have a short power nap for an hour before getting food. Woke up at 2am…..oops! By 4am still no sign of Montreal’s finest ladies. Still no sign at 6am. Finally at 7am I hear a tap tap tap on the door and before I know it, my sleepy little ass is being covered and kisses and cuddles from my two favourite blonde bitches! WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?? I wailed. Turns out they got lost in Jersey when their GPS broke. I think the high levels of radiation coming off of Snookis fake tan caused the GPS to spontaneously combust. Oddly, it started working again on the less ghetto side of the Lincoln Tunnel. LOL!! *double fist pump*

We decide to head to a cafe and get some breakfast and have a gossip. I had to meet another Blockhead at 11am outside RCMH as she had purchased a ticket from me but I had to go pick it up. Also had three other spare tickets that I hadn’t managed to sell on Twitter so we figured we would pimp them outside the venue. Dropped the price of the tickets and threw in a free $25 voucher for the NKOTB store and before we knew it we had people racing from different sides of the city to come get them. Had to put out a “First one to tackle me, gets the ticket disclaimer on twitter”. Tickets sold. Mission completed. Money in pocket. Good day.

After breakfast we went to Walgreens. This is becoming somewhat of a tradition for our little group. In fact, I think we are doing a tour of all the Walgreens in the US. We love it in there! It’s a shop….that has everything!! Where else can you buy a feather boa, Slim Jims and tampons all under one roof! We loaded up on these 5 hour energy shot drinks as the girls had been driving all night and I am just naturally lack lustre and sleepy 99.9% of the time. Plus Jen had bought a years supply of Ephedrine so we needed something to wash that shit down with. So with the mantra “I’ll sleep when I’m dead” in my mind, we had our energy shots and went back to the hotel. Now I am not someone who takes prescription meds, energy drinks or anything like that so lets just say my body was kind of left to its own devices as to how it was going to deal with this infusion of guarana and caffeine. Turns out my body decided to go mental. I was on a high ALL DAY!!! Everything was hysterically funny. I couldn’t stop moving and I even considered running up to the crowd of Scientology protesters screaming “KIRSTIE ALLEY SAYS HI!! BEAM ME UP SCOTTIE!!” I wish I had done now. The guy at the front dressed as an alien was pretty cute.

Now lets get on to the hotel “situation”. There seemed to be a hell of alot of people hanging around outside our hotel. As got nearer to the loiterers I started to see a familiar looking logo on some familiar looking T-shirts. Yup, we had found all the NK fans. As my mind started to wonder if the New Kids were staying here my question was answered when the door opened and out came Joe pushing a stroller followed by about 20 hopeful looking fans. We didn’t go over to him as he looked to be struggling with the whole open door and push stroller through whilst still looking cool manoevre. Of course, a lot of fans don’t take the same approach so he had to deal with them all up in his face too. I believe I heard him say “I can’t right now, sorry”. This didnt seem to dimish their lustre for some Joey Joe Facetime so of course they ignored him and carried on making his life way more difficult than needs be.

When he finally made it outside the fans that were following him ran back inside shreiking and hollaring like it was the most exciting moment of their lives. Ya know, seeing Joe…..walking. Personally, my Dean and Deluca skinny vanilla latte was more interesting to me at that point. So we knew that Joe was staying in our hotel, hence the pandemonium outside. The hotel was well prepared for the craziness, only letting people in who had guest cards. The lobby was also full of NK fans all sitting around….waiting, I guess for an NK sighting. I can imagine the stories they got to tell when they went home “NYC was sooo cooool! We sat in the lobby of the hotel from 10am to 5am every single day. One time, Jimmy Marsh said hey! Best trip ever!!!” lol. I hasten to add, Jimmy Marsh was also loitering in the lobby so we figured that Donnie was staying here also. I think we were the only fans who did NOT book the hotel based on the fact that the NK’s were staying there. We honestly had no clue, kind of funny.

Decided to go back to the room and start to get ready. We ended up with 5* on Friday night. We didn’t originally have 5* tickets but a client of Jen’s who has connections was looking to do her a favour and the favour was hooking us up with M&G tickets to the show which was awesome! Due to this, we had to be ready and at RCMH by 3:45pm. I decided to have curly hair that night and so needed to get my bendy rollers in quick so they could set for a while. Of course, there is no way on earth I can sit for 3 hours without going outside for a cigarette….so that is what I did. Went out on the street with my rollers in looking like a moron. To make me feel less retarded Jen kindly put her hair in bunches. If it wasn’t for the fact that she was quite clearly humouring me, her hairstyle could have been mistaken for mental illness. It’s an unwritten rule from the Gods that like to play cruel tricks that when you are standing on a New York street with rainbow coloured rollers in, that you will inevitably bump into someone you wish you hadn’t. Cue World Of Johnny, who comes strolling up with his case to gasps of “didn’t Ddub fire your ass??” I’m not a huge WOJ fan, I think he’s shady and a bit creepy so his slow walking past the hotel waiting for someone to notice him kind of made me giggle. He hung around outside for an un-natural amount of time for a man that just got off a plane and needed to check in. That kind of sealed the deal that Ddub was infact staying there……where Bert is, Ernie is sure to follow. I make no bones about not liking WOJ much. I love you Donnie, truly, but I’m not a Johnny fan. I guess you can’t like everyone. Anyways, more about WOJ later….

So after being laughed at by everyone walking past the hotel we scurried back inside. Jen saw Earl on the way in and stopped to give him a hug. He didn’t seem too unhappy about this! We finished getting ready in our carefully selected outfits. We generally like to have a little theme running through the 3 of us. Normally its hats, that night it happened to be dark glasses and little dresses. There is something uncomforatable about being dressed up like a Xmas tree at 3pm in the afternoon. As we walked to RCMH I wanted to shout…..we are off to an event!! We aren’t just trying to be all Sex and the City and overdressed for the hell of it!

As we had 5* we were allowed to join the “special line” for “special people”. When we got to the booth to pick up the tickets we were given an envelope. We were so excited to see what row we had got, ripped open the envelope…….it was empty! We all looked at each other confused. Spoke to the RCMH staff and after a lot of Chinese whispers they figured out we were friends of “Harry” and so our tickets were not being issued until 7pm. We were then escorted immediately past the line of people and down to the VIP area. We were the first ones in there!

It was really nice…..soooo much free food of which I could eat none of it as my dress was so tight I feared that even the smell of a mini-quiche and a semi-warm sausage roll would force the stiching to split open revealing my delightful Bridget Jones-esque spanx pants to the world. The disadvantage of having no tickets at this stage is that we missed out on the free drink coupons and so ended up paying $15 dollars for a bright red cocktail called “The Right Stuff”. $45 for 3 drinks!!! At that price, the mixer better have been the semen of a New Kid or they were totally not worth it! So after spending the GDP of a small third world nation at the bar, we were ready to rock n roll!

The VIP area started to fill up. I got to finally meet people that I speak with alot on Twitter but have never met which was really cool! People like @MLeonard1028 (pictured) @ATLAngela @Kristie311….all really nice, beautiful chickies! Oh and I forgot to say that I met @VivSmith in the elevator of the hotel earlier, so lovely! We spent an abnormal amount of time in the RCMH restroom taking photos simply because the restroom rocked!! Very fancy and huge! Loved it! When we went back outside the RCMH dude who was looking after us ticket-less fools said to us that we would be in the first group to go in and see the NK’s. You’ve never seen 3 girls reach into their bags for perfume as quick as we did at that moment. He took us over to the door and we stood and waited. All of a suddent the NK’s appeared and filed into the room past us. Jordan was with his mini-me, Dante…so cute! A bit more confusion later and they decided that we would be in the last group to go in. Phew! At least an hour to re-do our makeup and get drunk enough to be confident and vivacious but not quite drunk enough to have to worry about vomiting on a New Kid. Imagine that, you would forever be cemented in their mind as barf girl. That is so not hot.

So we waited, we mingled and tried to figure out a way to smuggle in a present that Jen and MC had bought for Jordan. They bought him a pair od Superman under-pants. Upon inspecting them, there was no way that even he could fill those. Maybe he could pass them on to AnaJONda. lol. Jen decided to hide them up her sleeve. We got in line with our group….who we would had never met before. Proving that Jen couldn’t smuggle beer into brewery the eagle eyed RCMH official reached into her dress and pulled out the Superman pants…LMAO!!! I have NO idea how she saw them. She held them up high above our heads…what are these??? Um…..Superman pants……for Jordan *smile* You can’t take them in said the official!! Booo. I wanted to throw Kryptonite at her as she quite clearly is not of this earth with that x-ray vision!

So the time came to file in for the photo. I was wearing skyscraper heels and planned to take them off so JK did not feel to short! lol. The first person I see when I go in is Charlie. Stopped to give him a hug and then the next person was Jon. The first thing I noticed was the little wrinkles round his smiling eyes. He’s so lovely is Jon. He remembered me from Chi and the cruise, gave me a hug and said hi. Next person I see is Jordan. Ahhh, I adore this man. We have a hug, I stare at his little nose mole for a few seconds and then do the old Jordan girl favourite move….hand on abs for photo! I said to him I was gonna take my shoes off, he told me to leave them on. I said to him, oh I’ll slouch a little then, he laughed and said, no stand up. All I really remember is his shirt he was wearing. It was really really soft. Like cashmere or something. All to quickly the photo was done. I turned away from JK to walk away and heard Joe saying to MC that she looked really beautiful. As I went to walk past, Joe grabbed me and hugged me and said “good to see you again” and then, in a moment that was unexpected and made me melt a little inside, he held both my hands, looked at me and said “You look really really beautiful tonight!” My brain was confused. I’m Jordan, Jordan, Jordan all the time….now here’s Joe handing out the compliments with Jordan standing right there listening and my brain did not know what to do. I was blind-sided by the baby blues and for at least 10 seconds, I was a Joe girl!! I managed to get out a “thank you Joe” and then he said “I mean it, you really do”. It was all a bit hazy but I think Jordan said something about my dress being nice but I can’t really remember. It was all very bizarre but Joe is definately my number 2 NK now. It doesn’t take much to win my heart!! I still love Jordan the bestest though. I don’t even recall seeing Ddub or Danny. After my Joe moment I kind of floated out of the room, giving Charlie a hug on the way out. I am such a Charlie girl!! haha. MC was all excited because she got her first Jon hug and Jen….OMG, she was high as a kite on Ddub love after he pulled her to him for a huge hug. All in all….fun M&G!

We eventually got our tickets at 7pm, row NN so they were not 5* seats but a hell of alot better than our original tickets so we were happy. The concert was amazing, as usual. This was the 4th time I had seen this particular show and it never gets old. I could watch it every night and not get bored. Loved the venue although the staff were Nazi’s! Once you were in the venue you were not allowed out at all. It was like being held prisoner for a few hours. I spent the next 90 minutes, happy in my JK bubble. The shirt ripping in Click made me chew vigorously on my glow straw (pictured) until it broke and no longer glowed. Booo. Loved the new NYC imagery at the start of a show, very obviously constructed to fill us with feelings of melancholy excitement, remembering where it all started and now where it is all ending…..in New York. Whatever, I’m pessimistic by nature but I can buy into that for a few minutes and soak up the love in the room.

So with the show over it was time to turn our attention to the after party at Amnesia nightclub. GA tickets were $25 each and VIP $75. We had GA tickets. We decided to go back to the hotel quickly to change out of our outfits and put on shoes that were a bit eaiser to dance in than 5″ stilletos. I’d lost all feeling in my toes hours before so wasnt really too bothered. The energy shots had started to wear off and we were all feeling like zombies at this point. We took ages changing our clothes and as we were getting ready we were hearing all kinds of things on Twitter about the after party we were about to go to. Stories of tradgedy and tears as Blockheads were turned away from the nightclub for dressing like New Kids On The Block fans. lol. It seems that the club was not hired exclusively for this after party so it was operating as business as usual with normal club rules applying and those club rules were no flip flops or shorts or anything that your average NK fan likes to wear….ie. NK T-shirts. Girls were in tears. Some complaining that they were turned away because they did not fit the “look” of the club. To be honest with you, I can see it from both sides. If I had paid $75 for a VIP ticket and then was turned away at the door I would be pissed to. However, I would also never go to a New York nightclub wearing a New Kids T-shirt and shorts. It’s a nighclub….and its New York, a very fashion conscious city where having people that look the part in your club is half of the game. I felt that some of the fans should have thought a bit more about where they were going and figured that maybe they should dress up a little bit.

So seeing these tweets and also tweets about how much it sucked and how un-organised it was we decided not to bother going and instead went to Olive Garden for dinner (pictured) This was my first time ever in Olive Garden. I was excited!!! haha!! I’m so low-rent!

Woke up tired on Saturday and somehow ended up in this Irish pub for breakfast. It didn’t look anything like any Irish pub I had ever been in mainly due to the fact that no one was fighting or river-dancing and all of the waiters were Mexican! Donde esté my lucky charms??

I had decided to wear a dress that unintentionally made my boobs look enormous and so spent the entire day walking around with men staring at them. I decided I wanted to buy this horrendously expensive camera for the show and whilst browsing the numerous camera shops in the Times Square area we were stopped by a happy dude called Ben who worked for Comedy Central. He was trying to sell us tickets to a Comdey show that night but we told him we were already going to a show. He said “New Kids On The Block?” we said “How did you guess that?”. He said that every other person he was stopping was going to to concert that night. We got into a discussion with him about New Kids and he said they should have done the show at the Hammerstein cause its cooler than Radio City!! LOL! We ended up convincing him that he should come to the show and he said that if we could get a ticket to him by 5pm he would come. We said, you’re on! However, he changed his mind when he realised that he would not be able to sit with us and would probably be sandwiched in between a bunch of girls he didnt know going nuts over a band he barely knew….he was only 21, bless him! He’s was a sweetie though.

We decided we wanted to walk to Central Park. We had a map and started walking down 6th Ave. We walked for miles and still no sign of any park. It was only then we realised we were walking the wrong way down 6th and had practically walked all the way from Times Square to Greenwich Village! haha!! 3 blondes and a map….oh dear! I got the blame because I had been to New York many times and still went the wrong way. My excuse was I normally stay Downtown and so everything is backwards to me!! Jen and MC wanted to ride the Subway so we got a ticket and jumped on the train bound for Coney Island. We were gutted that we had to get on the D-Train and not the J-Train. lol. Did some pole dancing on the train and got off at 49th Street. As we were walking around a girl came up to us. She was doing a promo for a spa. Normally I walk straight past these things but it sounded pretty good. A whole spa package worth $300 for $40. We decided it could be fun and in the very least we would get our hair done all nice for the show that night.

Jumped in a taxi and headed out to Chelsea, the gay centre of New York to the salon. OMG, never have I been in a more ghetto spa in my life. It was hilarious!! It was pretty cheap looking and was run by this older, kind of angry Latina woman who looked like she was on the verge of a mental breakdown. As soon as I walked in there I thought there is no fucking way I am letting these bitches colour my hair. There were two really young latina girls in charge of the hair washing. They were the worst hair washers ever and I mean seriously how hard can it be?? My one seemed to be able to get the water everywhere apart from on my hair, I was soaked by the time she’d finished. It was like I’d been hosed down by the fire brigade but not quite as sexy. MC’s hair washer managed to wet the top of her hair but the rest of it underneath was completely dry. After squirting freezing cold water over her, she said “is that too hot??” haha! MC was like “Um, no its cold” so she set the temperature to moderately above freezing and carried on. Mine kept complaining that I had a lot of hairpsray in my hair!! Um biyatch, I didnt come here for a lecture on my overuse of sticky hair products. I’m paying you to wash my damn hair and shut the hell up. The conversation was mind numbing. MC’s hair washer said “I hear you have hot showers in Canda because its so cold” LMAO!!! MC said “um, you don’t have hot showers here?” She said “no, its too hot in New York!” WTF??? Mine kept asking me how much it cost to have my hair cut in London. When I told her, she advised that it would be cheaper for me to fly to New York and visit her again for a hair cut. Um, I’ll pass thanks all the same. After a while we didn’t care if they heard us bitching about the salon with MC shouting at one point “This is so fucking ghetto!”. Thank goodness but Jennifer Lopez Jr and her friend were not drying our hair. That was left to the angry old lady. I asked her if I could have it curled and she looked at me horrifed and said “we don’t have curling tongs”. Oh I’m sorry, I thought I was in a hair salon…I must be mistaken. Told her, fine, just blow dry it…and dont do it flat or I’ll hit you on the nose with my can of hairspray. I immediately regretted requesting that she put a bit of body into my hair as she started teasing it with a huge round brush until it was absolutely huge!! She was trying to turn me into a Mexican transvestite! The hairdryer was so damn hot I think I got 3rd degree burns on my ears. When I asked her to turn the heat down a bit she said she couldn’t…..wait for it……because its humid outside!! haha!! How she managed to make a correlation between the heat of the hair dryer and the weather I will never know. To top off a truly hilarious experience in Salon Ghetto, we had neck and back massges given to us by Jennifer Lopez Jr and her gormless mate. I sat in the chair and she said “do you want me to use oil?”. I’m wearing a dress for gods sake! The last thing I want is to leave here looking like I’ve just gone for a dip on the Gulf Coast! We left the salon laughing our asses off. It was totally worth the money!! haha!

Got back to the hotel and as usual had to fight our way through the fans to get inside. The same people were sitting in the lobby. I wondered if they had moved at all during the day! Saw Kevin in the lobby so stopped to have a chat with him for a bit and then went to the room, pumped up the tunes and got ready for that nights show.

It was nuts outside when we got to Radio City. Loads of ticket touts selling tickets. We were gonna buy some if they were better than our seats but they only seemed to have 2nd mezz tickets so we weren’t interested. We were a few rows back from where we were the previous evening and on the opposite side. We still had a great view though. Got to my seat and this girl stood up in front of me. She was tall! My immediate thought was “who is this tall bitch???” grrrr…and then I realised it was Lenny @MLeonard1028 so I forgave her tallness! haha! Again the show rocked. JK was on FIRE that night! I’ve never seen him perform with quite so much vigour, he was truly amazing and a joy to watch! I loved the fact that he was loving it! I was looking forward to watching Joe’s solo as I had gone to the bar the night before to get a drink when he was performing the night before.

However, as his solo started we were distracted by drama in the aisle next to us. Barret came down the aisle to watch her hubby and was stopped by security from going any further down the aisle! This has happened with Harley earlier too, but he flashed some ID and was let down there. However, the nazi security chick was not letting Barret go anywhere. Fans tried to help by saying to the chick that she was his wife but I can imagine she said something along the lines of “that’s what they all say!”. LOL!! At one point I saw Barret point to the stage and say “That’s my husband up there”. Still no dice. This bitch weren’t playing. She takes her job VERY seriously! Eventually Barret was rescued by NK Security and taken down to the front. Due to this highly exciting drama I once again missed most of Joe’s performance!! LOL!

So its get to the accoustic part of the show. I love this part, mainly because Jordan is normally sweaty at this point and seeing his sweat drizzled face and chest projected onto the big screen is the highlight of the evening for me! Love me some sweaty JK! Rumours had abounded on twitter for a while that The Backstreet Boys were going to make an appearance during the show. I had feeling it was going to be now. The NK’s asked if they could sing another song and when the opening line of “I Want It That Way” echoed round RCMH we knew what was about to happen. It was a strange experience hearing Jordan singing a BSB sing. Of course he sang it perfectly cause he’s so awesome but the crowd reaction was strange. People looked confused. Not sure what was going on and if they should be happy or angry. The girls in front of us sat down and started tweeting. As I looked around the room I saw a lot of people sitting down, I even saw some leaving.

The curtain went up and there were the Backstreet Boys….I am no huge fan of BSB but you couldn’t help but feel you were witnessing something historic and kind of cool. I thought the people that sat down were ridiculous. Sitting down in “loyalty” to New Kids, what a load of bs. If the NK’s do not have a problem with BSB, why do you? Surely as loyal fans we should be respecting the desicions they make and the guests that they choose to invite to their show. Whatever, I don’t want to waste anymore time talking about immature girls. So they all sang together. To me, it was very obvious that the New Kids could wipe them off the stage. BSB can sing but for me they just do not have the edge that the NK’s have. Our boys look better, sound better, perform better and have a lot more charisma. Saying that, I enjoyed the performance alot. BSB were then given the stage to perform “Shape Of My Heart”. They were very gracious to the NK’s with Brian saying that they looked up to them and recognised that the NK’s set the template for boybands. I’ll give him props for that….it must have burnt a little bit. Kevin’s head must be exploding….somewhere in rehab! lol.

Naturally we couldn’t make it through the show without Donnie crying. The signs were there. Joe did a little speech, Donnie couldn’t wait for him to stop talking so he could say his bit, haha!! It was the usual speech laced with love and joy joy feelings. I’m pretty sure he has secretly hired Tony Robbins as his ghostwriter. The speech ran along similar lines to normal….look into the crowd humbly, choke back tears, try to speak again, choke back more tears and then when the crowd is at fever pitch let a single tear run down the cheek and do some head bobbing in recognition of our fabulousness. I don’t entirely buy it, but it had the desired effect on 90% of the crowd with girls blubbering and passing round tissues. Awww, he’s such a ball of emotion. Bless him!

So with the show over it was time to go to tonight after party at Quo nightclub. We decided to go tonight as it was the last night and we wanted to have a big final night blow out and shake our wobbly bits. We jumped in a cab and headed off to Quo nightclub. Is it just me or was the club located in a really dodgy part of town? Anyway, the line was long but like good little Blockheads we stood and waited patiently. I spy Johnny walking up and down the line with a list, looking super official with a blank expression on his face. At one point Jen said something to Johnny to which she was met with silence. Didn’t even crack a smile. Seems that this time around, he’s taking his job as chief gopher EVERSO seriously. As we got towards the front of the line the guy on the door was busy breaking little Blockhead hearts. He was telling a fan that she was not allowed in the club because she was wearing open toed shoes. The girl started wailing “You’re breaking my heart right now!! and trying to hold back the tears”. He wasn’t having any of it though and said she couldn’t come in. She ran from the line crying, hotly followed by two friends both looking pissed.

So we get in the club. Its kind of a regular looking nightclub. They seemed to have an obsession with strobe lighting and at one point there was so much strobe action I could barely see 2ft in front of me. I went to the bar and was tapped on the shoulder by a girl who asked me if I was “Kate” well, she didnt say Kate, she said my real name. I said yeah and she said “I just want you to know, that I am not a stalker”. I said “Ummm, ok” and smiled. She told me her twitter name but like most people I meet I could not place her but figured that she knew me so gave her a hug and walked off comforted by the news that that was one less restraining order I would have to take out.

So we partied for a bit, danced and shook our sizeable booties all over Quo nightclub. This dude kept walking past and staring. After the 5th drive by he decided to open his mouth and say somthing which was along the lines of “Hot damn!”. I kind of ignored him and then we all went to this little area outside to smoke. The smoking area was packed with people. That is where we met up with @wizbif @ktsummer and @Kimber_Ann (pictured) three people that I know off of Twitter but had never met before. Bless Kimber, she couldn’t stop crying the entire time we were talking. New Kids + final night with BH friends + alcohol = uncontrollable sobbing! She was a sweetheart…even though she did burst out laughing at my accent everytime I opened my mouth!! haha! Speaking of which, around that time this chick comes rolling out the door and asked me for a light. I knew immediately that she was British….she had that posh, annoying, north London look about her. I said something to her and she said “Are you taking the piss out of my accent?” WIGGA WHAT??? I mean seriously WTF? I said “Um, no…I am British”. She then launched into a rant about how Americans constantly make fun of her voice. She was one annoying biyach, very pretentious. She said “So, are you here all summer too??”. I was thinking “awww, daddys Princess has been sent to the Big Apple all summer whilst mummy and daddy holiday in Monte Carlo”. Blargh! She was under the impression that just because we were from the same land mass that we should instantly bond in this land of foreigners that talk all weird. She was sorely mistaken.

I was saved from the annoying British chick by the guy who had been stalking us round the club earlier. He came out and started chatting. His name was Gentie and he was from………THE JERSEY SHORE!! *double fist pump* He kept hugging me and trying to lick my face. We got into a conversation about the New Kids and he said that he dated “those Knight guys” neice, Jessica about 10 years ago. My bullshit detector went into overdrive but I listened to his story of dating Jessica and was entertained for all of 10 minutes! Just then, Donnie arrives. He walks straight past us and into the club. We go back in briefuly to hear his little speech before Roscoe starts rapping. It was pretty funny though, alot of the regular club goers were looking at each other and saying “Who’s that guy???”. haha!!

So we jumped in a cab and headed back to the hotel! He dropped us off a little way up the street and as we walked towards the hotel we could still the cult hanging around outside. As we were walking this short Mexican guy comes walking towards us, he was smiling so I started to do a little dance. He was an older guy and happy looking so he kind of grabbed me and we did a little waltz in the street, it was kind of cute and we were having fun. That was until the fun-killers arrived! Suddenly out of nowhere these two girl appeared and started saying “Does she know him??” Jen said “no, shes just having fun”. These two matriarchs were not having it though and took it upon themselves to “rescue me” from this “dangerous” situation shouting “She’s a Blockhead sister!”. It was pretty embarrassing as a) I had instigated the dancing b) he was old and harmless and c) we were having fun. The mariarchs dragged me by the arm away from the old guy. We got it all on video. It’s pretty hysterical! I’m sure they were trying to help but honestly, I didn’t need it. When we got inside the hotel, the lobby was crazy. Loads of fans still there….sitting and waiting. We got in the elevator with two guys who were asking us about all the people in the lobby. We told them they were all NK fans. They asked if we were too and we said yes, at that point they started making derogatory comments about how we were nuts etc etc. The elevator stopped on floor 6, the doors opened and in gets Earl. The guys said “and this dude is their security, right??”. Earl just stared them down. We said to Earl we wanted to get a picture with him and he said sure to which the guys said “you are just as bad as those in the lobby”. Well, sufficide to say that didnt go down very well with Earl and he called them both “fucking fags” before getting out of the elvator with us!! haha!! SLAP DOWN! wooo! Loved it. We took pics with Earl in the corridor and then went to our room to bed.

So the final day swings around. We are all sad that we have to leave each other soon. We head on outside the hotel to have a smoke and Earl comes out and gives Jen a big hug. I’m already planning what hat I am going to wear to their wedding. Earl was in his civilian clothes….no Block Security T-Shirt today! He’s so huge we asked if he could pick us up, he obliged and we got some great pics! Love the Earl-ster!! All too soon it was time to leave. MC and Jen were driving back to Canada so they offered to take me to JFK. A tearful goodbye was all that was left and I walked through the doors into the airport not knowing when I was going to see them again. It sucked ass!

Mimicking the Earl hug from earlier, MC jumped into my arms and all three of us had a tearful girly hug!

Saying that, the wonderful memories of the weekend kept me happy the whole flight home. Another amazing weekend in the life of a Blockhead……

……New York. Concrete jungle where dreams are made of, there’s nothing you can’t do, now you’re in New York, these streets will make you feel brand new, big lights will inspire you…..Until next time……Peace, love and The Block x

As with most boy bands there was a “Kid” for every taste. If you were into big muscles you were a Danny girl. If bad boys with more swagger than vocal ability were your thing, you were a Donnie girl. If you were into young boys…..erm, ok, scrub that……if you were into cute as a button, big blue eyed boys then you were a Joey girl. If sensitive, fragile and shy types got your motor running you were a Jon girl AND if you liked dark, sexy, exceptionally talented, hot as a thousand burning suns men you were a Jordan girl. That was me. A devoted Jordan girl. Whilst most 10 year olds were playing with Cabbage Patch Kids I would spend my evenings alone in my room surrounded by my beloved and kind of sticky Jordan posters, listening to “I’ll Be Loving You Forever” over and over and thinking up strange and slightly disturbed love triangles with my Jordan Doll, Ken and Barbie. Oh the tension.

I think when you are 10 years old and get your first crush on a boy its kind of an eye opening time. I had a child’s brain so my Jordan fantasies didn’t really extend much beyond, “hmmm, I bet he has a really cool car and could drive me to the mall. We could get McDonalds shakes and play Pac Man”. Ya know, cause that would be sooo rad. The innocence of youth. I did heart him more than anything though. I remember writing a letter of complaint to Smash Hits magazine when I was 11 because they put they staples across his face. How dare they sully his beautiful visage!

Fast forward 20 years. Its 26th June 2009, 3pm on a sunny Saturday afternoon. My 30 year old self standing in a hallway at the Tinley Park Amphitheatre in Chicago with aforementioned love crush, Jordan Knight walking towards me; all shiny white teeth and adorable dimples with his arms open wide. How did I get to this moment? More to the point, how did I get to this moment and still manage to breathe air in and out and act like a normal, functioning mammal. This was Jordan Knight!! The man I was supposed to marry! I got to this momentous moment by somehow winning a competition that was posted by Jordan on Twitter. Ahhh Twitter. Making the gap between celebrities and stalkers that much smaller. Alas I digress, the prize was an all expenses paid trip to see NKOTB in Chicago and hang out with Jordan. My inner 10 year old was jumping for joy. My outer 30 year old was incredibly horny. It’s hard to put into words what its like meeting a celebrity that you have been crushing on for as long as you can remember. For me, Jordan, in his fantasy form had been the longest relationship I had ever had. My first crush, my first love, the guy that all guys that followed would be measured against and whilst no one is perfect, to me he was and still is.

Meeting your favourite celebrity can sometimes be disappointing. As fans we tend to have unrealistic expectations of our heros and sit them up high on a pedestal. If they do not conform to the fantasy image we have of them mainly carved out by mainstream media and other PR overlords, we can be left feeling disappointed. Jordan however , exceeded my expectations. Even more beautiful at age 38 than at age 20, kind, generous, funny, goofy, sweet, shy, vulnerable, cheeky…he was the perfect host and the perfect gentleman.

Its a very rare occasion when reality outshines fantasy.

So I raise a glass to your Mr Jordan Knight. My first and last Celebrity Love Crush.

You can follow (but not too closely) the object of my affection on Twitter @jordanknight

Back in the day, I was a mad forum-er! I joined a website called Survivor Sucks, the largest forum on the internet where people would spend countless hours a day discussing the latest episode of Survivor and all random of Off Topic subjects. It was known as a “flaming” board. Highly sarcastic, sometimes cruel but always entertaining. I spent 5 years posting on that board on a daily basis racking up more posts than I dare to mention. We had our own cliquey board language and the “flaming” of “newbies” was a favourite past time. I credit that board with teaching me many things about the internet and how people interact with each other online.

As my interest in the board waned, it was replaced with a new virtual love….Facebook. Facebook is blamed for more hours of lost workplace productivity than any application in history so much so that it is banned or at least restricted in most of the corporate world. Facebook was genius. A place where I could stalk ex-boyfriends and see if their lives now sucks without me in them and check out their new girlfriends. I could look up old friends and enemies from school and see if time has been cruel or kind to them. I could re-connect with people that I had lost touch with and spend countless hours super poking my favourite celebrities. I could read status updates from people who’s lives I did not give a damn about and accept invites to parties I had no intention of attending. Facebook was fun! It amazed me how Facebook instantly became somewhat of a cultural phenomenon. Often on the train I hear people talking on the phone saying to people, hit me up on Facebook or I was talking to so and so on Facebook. It has become as much a part of communication as the cell phone. Like google before it, I expect to see Facebook inducted into the Oxford English Dictionary as a valid, recognised word to describe the art of communication.

Then of course there is MySpace. I never really gave my heart to MySpace. It seemed to be a place for the young, emo set and those trying to kick start a music career hoping to be the next Arctic Monkeys; discovered on MySpace and setting the charts alight. The whole feel of MySpace never suited me. I find the layout awkward and ugly, the site slower than a one legged tortoise and increasingly inhabited by lonely individuals who use it as a dating site. Indeed I get a lot of emails from random men on MySpace, ya know, wanting to say hi, wanting to chat on IM. Its kind of flattering I guess, particularly when its from a Nigerian Prince

I am currently giving my cyber heart to Twitter. I love Twitter! A micro-blogging site where you have to get your point across in 140 characters, a fabulous tool for the concise writer. I am the opposite of concise. I am somewhat of a word vomiter who makes every sentence three times longer than it should be due to my need to pepper my sentences with self indulgent flowery words which make me seem twice as intelligent than I actually am. Twitter quickly became a favourite tool of celebrities, allowing them to connect with fans, promote their latest album, get feedback and generally interact with the general public on a level that has never before been seen. You are no one if you are not on Twitter. Its revolutionised the way artists promote themselves, they no longer need to rely on alternative media outlets to reach out to their audience, they can do it themselves instantly. Its given celebrities a way to control their image and be able to instantly react to false news stories that are written about them in the press. From a fans perspective, it makes you feel included. Like you are a friend as opposed to a fan and makes you feel closer to those that you idolise. Of course, this is a fallacy. The celebrities using Twitter see it as a marketing tool and this all inclusive world is just part of the PR machine. However, if it makes people feel good, what is the harm?

My 3D friends, the ones that I actually interact with in physical form on a daily basis find my tweeting/Facebooking and general enthusiasm for all things virtual a little strange. None of them interact online or partake in social networking. There is still this feeling that the internet is the home of sad, lonely individuals with poor social skills who can only interact with others in a virtual world. Their view is somewhat suspicious and negative. I can honestly say, the internet has added to my life more than I can say. I have met so many wonderful people that moved from online friends to real friends very quickly. People I may not have been exposed to if it wasn’t for social networking. My online friends have been there for me when my real life friends have not. Thats the beauty of the internet, if you are feeling lonely, sad, happy, excited, there is always someone you know online to share it with. I have made some beautiful real friendships online with people I want to stay in touch with until they are throwing mud on my coffin. I am taking 3 vacations this year with people I have never met. It seems crazy to some, but not to me. I believe that forming internet relationships is organic. Its the way life should work. You get to know someone by what they say and how they say it. You get to hear about their lives and share in their ups and downs. You are not judging someone on their physical appearance you are judging them by what comes out of their mouth. That is the perfect foundation for a potential friend or partner.

It seems that it has taken new technologies to get us back to a point where we are interacting with people on an intellectual level first and in an ever increasing image obsessed world, I think that is a good thing.

I’m making my parents sound like food Nazi’s but I guess they were just very conscious of making sure that I grew up with a healthy diet. I have never been overweight and so do not know what it is like to grow up in a society that makes judgements on you on a daily basis. However, my father was a larger person and so I was exposed to the discrimination and the comments that people make. If he dared eat a cheeseburger in public you could see people looking and thinking “Why are you eating that?”. People can be very cruel and so I understand the pressure put on people, particularly young women to conform to the “ideal” body type.

As women we are bombarded with images in magazines of super skinny size zero models dressed in the trendiest clothes and hanging out with the coolest people. The unwritten message being “if you were as thin as this, your life could be just as fabulous!”. We are exposed to it on our TV screens and in our movie theatres, its on informercials….buy this pill, you’ll lose 100 pounds in 3 weeks! Buy this ab-tronic-mega-tronic and YOU will have rock hard abs in 7 days! Buy this vitamin laden, tastes like shit super duper meal replacement shake and YOU will look like a supermodel…..all that for only 3 easy payments of $19.95! Its all bullshit. These companies play on women’s insecurities and attempt to sell an impossible dream. At the end of the day, losing weight is as simple as adding 2 and 2. Expend more calories than you consume….its a simple equation. A healthy diet combined with regular exercise and slow but steady weight loss is the ONLY sure fire way of losing weight and having some chance at keeping it off for life.

When I talk to women about weight issues, its always the same thing. Women want a quick fix. They want to lose weight for an event or a holiday or a party so they will diet like crazy a few weeks before doing all manner of insane diets. As soon as the vacation is over they go back to their daily diet of Chinese takeaway and beer.

The cabbage soup diet, where you eat nothing but cabbage soup and drink water and green tea…..how enjoyable. Of course you will lose weight, there is nothing in cabbage soup.!! Apart from erm….cabbage. Your farts will stink and no one wants to be friends with a stinky pants. The shake diet ala Slim Fast. The idea of replacing two meals per day with some acrid, powdery tasting shake with god knows what in it horrifies me. The Atkins diet; remove carbs from your diet all together cause carbs are bad bad bad says Mr Atkins, who incidentally died of cardiomiopathy, whilst out jogging. He was 258 pounds when he died. In death, he became the poster child of why you should reach for the potatoes and the bread! Yes Alanis, isn’t it ironic? Then we have our “celebrity” diets. Diets propagated by the already thin and beautiful who usually have the luxury of having someone make their food for them. The Macrobiotic diet, favoured by the likes of the incredibly pinched and bird like Gwyneth Paltrow and the Ashtanga Yoga, Kabbalah addicted Madonna. The word Macrobiotic comes from the Greek words Macro meaning large or long and bios meaning life. Long Life. Hmmm. This diet consists of grains as the main staple supplemented by beans and nuts. Wow. That sounds so yummy! It now makes more sense as to why Gwyneth or Mrs Martin as I like to call her looks so much like a bird….their diets are practically the same. Then there is the raw food diet. I was speaking with a close friend last night and I found out that she was detoxing and trying to follow the raw food diet. We have a big holiday coming up and so she is trying to lose weight for it. I can kind of understand the detoxing part…..being super healthy and drinking bowel cleansing juices for a week to crap out all of the nasties lurking in your colon….personally, I would rather go spend 2 hours with a tube shoved up my ass having a colonic. At least then I could read a magazine whilst being cleansed from the inside out. The raw food diet is such a myth. “Ooo, cooking food kills all of the good stuff in it! Its much better to eat it raw so all the good enzymes in it can aid your digestion and increase your metabolic rate”. Oh really? Your stomach naturally produces the same enzymes that you are trying to eliminate by eating your food raw. You lose weight on this diet because you are eating vegetables…..who is gonna eat a raw steak? Or a frozen pizza? Or a burger that is still mooing??

All of these diets basically do the same thing. They force you to eat healthy food but put a fancy label on it so people will buy in to it. Its trendy to say “yes dahling, I’m on the raw food diet. I only eat food that is below 117 degrees and on Wednesdays I only eat things that are white” as opposed to “I’m on a healthy eating plan”. People need some kind of label that shows that their diet is special and that they are super dedicated. They are really trying. Look at all the effort they are going to. Look at how much they are denying themselves. Look how disciplined they are. It all comes back to the simple equation no matter how much you try and dress it up.

Now some of you that know me may be thinking, WTF is she talking about? She’s always on some weird diet. She doesn’t eat carbs either! She is the queen of rice cakes! Yes. I eat rice cakes. On top of those rice cakes I have lovely salmon and low fat cream cheese and capers and a huge salad. I don’t eat carbs not because I am trying to follow The Atkins diet but because I am intolerant to them. I eat healthy but I don’t starve. I listen to what my body needs and some days it just needs a bar of Dairy Milk chocolate. And you know what? Thats ok. My body is not perfect at all. I have cellulite, I get the odd pimple on my butt, sometimes a hair sprouts wildly out of my left nipple for no apparent reason and I have stretch marks despite never being pregnant. Its all part of being a woman! Learn to listen to your body, be good to it and it will be good to you. Its the most amazing machine you will ever own.

Now if your main motivation for losing weight is to impress a guy, remember this. Guys like women to look like women. They like boobs and asses and bits that wobble around. They don’t notice your cellulite and even if they do, once you are at the stage where you are in fragrante your orange peel thighs are the last thing on there mind. Never have I know a man to recoil in horror and run out the bedroom screaming like a girl with a scuffed knee when confronted with “a bit of a belly” or “an ass with a slightly dimpled look to it”.

So ladies, get off the silly diets. Embrace your shape and if you are unhappy with your shape make lifestyle changes. Don’t starve yourselves thin. Its a lifestyle choice. Now…..who wants an Oreo?

Ya see, I am one of the growing numbers of thirty something women who refuses to have society, life, my mother make me feel like I am some kind of failure because I haven’t yet found a boyfriend and started pro-creating at a rate of knots that would make Brangelina gasp. I think to understand fully where you are at in life you need to look back at what got you to that point. I haven’t always been a Bridget Jones clone, although I will admit to owning a few pairs of very large, unattractive granny pants. I was in a serious, adult relationship for 12 whole years. Statistically that’s longer than most marriages so my opinion isn’t the ramblings of some tragic, cat owning, spinster so bitter she makes lemons jealous. My issue is with society in general. It is drilled into from a young age that you must find a nice boy with a steady job and all his own hair to settle down with. You will date for a couple of years and then you will get married. You will move out of London and commit to a 30 year mortgage on a very mediocre, ever so slightly smaller than you would like 3 bed semi-detached in the suburbs. You will then pop out 3.4 kids in quick succession and only then will society, life, your mother look upon you favourably as having made a tangible contribution to the world.

Having not yet done one of these things, I am currently an enormous disappointment to my mother who last week spent all of the money she was saving for my wedding on an ugly conservatory extension on her mediocre, ever so slightly smaller than she would like 3 bed semi-detached on the outskirts of London. Never mind the fact that I have travelled the world many times over, climbed Mount Everest, worked in 4 different countries, had amazing experiences, half written a book, won awards in my chosen career, never been a drain on her finances or been addicted to crack, none of that is considered “successful” in her mind. For as long as she has to reply “No, she’s still single” to the age old question “Has Deb got a boyfriend yet?”, she will not be truly happy.

So here lies the problem. I hate dating. Can’t stand it. Having to trek halfway across London, usually in the rain to partake in the mindless “so, do you come here often” chit chat with some guy who is less interested in what is coming out of your mouth as opposed to what could possibly be going in it later. Thats the thing about dating in London. The pace of the city is so exhaustingly fast that dating becomes a game of 20 questions. You fire Q&A’s at each other over a couple of Bacardi Breezers to try and get enough facts about the other person to make an educated decision as to their worthiness before the last Tube Train departs from Euston.

Saying that, the underlying reason for my resistance to dating is very simple. I really do not want a boyfriend right now. I am happy on my own. I will say it again, I am happy on my own. Of course, no woman is an island….well apart from Germain Greer maybe. A guy friend of mine once said to me “It’s all very well sleeping with Claudia Schiffer BUT if you don’t have anyone to tell, what is the point?”. It’s the same in life. Life is better when you have someone to laugh and cry with but it is also better to wait for the right person to come along than spend your life with the wrong person.

So, single ladies in your 30′s, do not fear! Spend some time dating yourself and doing the things that make you happy whilst waiting for Mr oh so right to find you. Which he will. Eventually.