On Tuesday night I met up with Ann aka The Hairy Famer Family (or representative thereof) and that Everyday Stranger Shannon. (And, allow me to be the first to reassure you, that they are exactly who they claim to be, not middle aged men maskerading as mother's of toddlers.)
We met at a book launch, but not just any book launch. A book that contains an extract Anne's writing. Cringe is an excruciating, addictive book filled extracts from teenage diaries, and Anne's contribution has pride of place - the first in the book. Read it in its full angst-ridden glory here.
At the event contributors, and anyone who bought along their own tear-stained notebooks, read aloud extracts.
We had four letter word diatribes as a result of Baywatch not recording, fickle teenage love affairs, and hate-filled diatribes against parents - who just don't understand.
The passion; the pain; the hate; the love. Usually all in the same entry.
I knew it was a good night when I woke up the following morning with sore stomach muscles from all the laughing.
The only downside of the night is it made me rethink my only child-bearing ambitions. 'Cause you know whatever kid I have will for a few painful years, become a teenager who will loathe me (and chances are if they are anything like the teenagers who wrote the entries, I won't be too keen on them for a couple of years).
Still I have decided to press on for the time being, and fingers crossed IUI number 2 will happen next week.