Here’s Roxy’s latest diary entry. Roxy is a thirty something, single mother, looking for her Prince Charming.
She has four kids (Matilda, 18, Harry, 12, Toby 10 & Hope 18 months), works in her mother’s coffee shop and has some wobbly bits on her hips and thighs, which no diet can get rid of.
Roxy is still waiting for the call from music industry boss, Hugo Rocco after he mentioned her in a TV interview. She’s currently in a relationship with Tom, a Welsh farmer.
Here is today’s diary entry:
Tom has discovered Twitter. I introduced him to my favourite form of social media over a romantic meal for two.
During the prawn cocktail starter we set up his Twitter account, where he can tweet about life on his farm.
During the steak main course I persuaded him to introduce some of his animals to Twitter.
To Tom’s amazement, Zelda the pig, Axel the donkey and Thor the cockerel all acquired a few hundred Twitter fans.
By the time we reached the pudding, Tom was tweeting like a pro. As I said to him, whilst shovelling in a slice of cheesecake with one hand and retweeting his tweets with the other, ‘couples who tweet together, stay together.’
We started direct messaging each other on Twitter over cocktails afterwards, whilst sat next to each other in the bar. I can’t possibly divulge what we messaged each other about, but there were lots of emojis and exclamation marks.
I have just liked one of Tom’s tweets. It is a #farmerandhisdonkeyselfie which has made me smile. Axel has started wandering into Tom’s kitchen whenever he feels like it. So Tom, after listening to my lecture on social media, seized the opportunity to take a selfie of him and Axel, both at the breakfast table.
Hugo Rocco’s latest tweet has caught my eye. He still hasn’t called me. I have left many (over a hundred) messages, voice mails and emails over the past few days for him, but sadly no response.
Hugo Rocco, music industry legend and famous celebrity is now at the top of the list of things and people who annoy me.
My mother has just offered me the day off work.
Remove her name from my list, as earlier this morning she found herself on there, after shouting at me for not ordering in more instant coffee sachets.
Make decision to go underwear shopping with my friend, Lorna or Orange Lorna, when her obsession with fake bake tans gets out of control.
She’s just messaged all the girls on Twitter about her shopping trip. Apparently she is looking to take her relationship with new love interest; Zane, a rock musician who plays in the local pub, to the next level, so new underwear is vital.
My mind is crammed full of thoughts about Hugo Rocco and future singing fame.
Underwear shopping is a form of self-care for me as it always takes my mind off things.
Make quick list of situations which have been improved after underwear shopping:
- I was able to stop thinking about painful split with ex-boyfriend, Dan, after he ran off with his female best friend, through buying myself several pretty floral matching sets.
- I have celebrated life successes like getting onto the TV talent show by purchasing fun pink and frilly sets.
- Unlimited joy, for me, can be found whilst wearing a brand new pair of large, comfortable knickers.
Spot Lorna in the new shopping centre from two floors up. She’s been bleaching her long hair angel white again and has opted for a deep brown tan.
“Zane likes me looking well-travelled,” she says, admiring herself in a shop window.
“But the furthest you’ve been is Marbs?”
She rolls her mascara clad eyes and goes back to pouting into the glass.
Agree underwear shopping objectives with Lorna.
“Roxy, he’s a 54-year-old, rock musician, who has never settled down,” she explains. “He has longer hair than me, plays the guitar naked and wants to live his life to the full. So, I am going to have up my game when it comes to underwear. Things are going to get lively on Saturday night.”
“So, what are you thinking?”
She inspects her long red manicured nails. “I’m going wild, Roxy!”
Send God a little prayer of thanks for my boyfriend, Tom. There’s nothing lively or wild about our nights together and that’s just the way I like it! After four children and a string of failed relationships, I know that lively antics bring nothing but trouble.
Marcus wanted lively antics, so did Dan and don’t get me started on the weird things Rob wanted.
Tom and I both share a love of sitting in bed, drinking cups of tea, tweeting when the urge takes us and complimenting each other on wearing matching PJs.
Add men who want lively antics in the bedroom and all my ex love interests to my growing list.
“What’s going on with you and Hugo Rocco?” shouts Lorna, from a cubicle in the fitting room.
“Nothing, he hasn’t messaged me back,” I say, taking out my phone.
“You need to get his attention,” says, Lorna.
“Hugo Rocco is a celebrity, Lorna, it is going to be hard attracting his attention.”
“I never have a problem with getting attention,” sings, Lorna.
She appears, fully clothed and carrying the underwear she’s just tried on.
“Nope, not buying this,” she says, shaking her head and handing over the bra and knickers to the bored looking assistant. “My feedback can be summed up in two words – cheese wire.”
Tom has sent me a saucy DM message. He says I should buy some wild underwear too.
I let out a groan and show Lorna, his message.
Lorna flicks back her almost white, blonde hair away from her fake baked, tanned face. “Roxy, you won’t regret buying something a bit exciting. That’s when the magic starts!”
I shake my head. “A good book and a nice bath on my own is when the magic starts for me. I am not wearing cheese wire underwear.”
Add uncomfortable, but exciting, underwear to my list.
Lorna and I are both trying on underwear in a new shop. She’s in the cubicle next door to me.
Everything I have tried on is either too tight or uncomfortable.
I have decided to sit down and send another direct message to Hugo Rocco on Twitter.
“Oh god,” shrieks Orange Lorna, “Our search is over.”
Before I can say a word she’s stood outside my cubicle curtain. “Are you decent, Roxy, because you have to see this?”
I pull on my jeans and t-shirt before opening the curtain. Lorna is stood, with one hand on her hip and the other resting on her thigh, in what can only be described as a few strips of thin leather, joined up at key places.
“Well?” Lorna raises her perfectly sculptured eyebrows.
“Not much to it – is there?” I say, with a look of concern.
“Oh Roxy, Zane will love it. Don’t you think it goes well with this tanning product?”
“A lighter shade of tan would look amazing on you,” I say, trying to be diplomatic. “Why don’t you go for something lighter?”
She rolls her eyes. “Roxy, according to my Instagram, I am supposed to have just got back from Thailand!”
I shake my head. “You went to Eastbourne to see your parents in their retirement village.”
Lorna’s blue eyes suddenly widen. “Quick take a pic of me, my phone’s died!”
“Yes,” she says, “You can send it to me and I will text it to Zane.”
I go to my handbag and get my phone. Lorna pulls a variety of model poses whilst I snap away.
“Right, done, get changed and I will ping them over to you,” I say.
Lorna is putting on her clothes. I am waiting outside her cubicle, daydreaming about Hugo Rocco texting me back to say he wants to make me famous.
“Roxy, put the photo of me on the girl’s twitter message thread. They will want to see my underwear photo.”
In my daydream Hugo Rocco is introducing me to a hot new record producer who wants to work with me.
“ROXY!” shouts Lorna. “Message us all the photo, I want to see what Kim and Shaz think.”
Without paying attention I flick onto my twitter direct messages, open the top one up, attach photo and send with, ‘thoughts?’
My phone pings. It is Hugo Rocco, with the words, ‘please tell your friend she urgently needs a lighter shade of false tan!’
There will be more Roxy next week!