Dear Nessi

You can tell when a girl's been having a good time: new tights, high boots, nice skirt, and messy, just-got-out-of-bed hair. Yep, young love can still blossom when one is in one's thirties...(yes that's meant to be somewhat cryptic...a woman I saw in a pub, on a sofa, sun streaming through windows...not that I knew her or anything....)

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Me, bent over in agony: "Ugh I've done my back in."

Anyone else: "How did you do that?"

Me: "Trying on wetsuits."

It was the very first suit I tried on at the dive fair. Ping, snap, ouch. But it fit. Sort of. Poor Scuba Diver, in the the first week of a new relationship, having to help me in and out of skin tight rubber costumes, then grope around me to see if they fit. Lucky his new girlfriend is not reading this...(hee)

Every time we bumped into his mates from Egypt, they'd ask when he's going back to the Red Sea. "Well I'm not a bachelor any more..." he'd say, though there are other reasons, too, that he's not made it out there to take up an instructor job.

Once the codeine kicked in, things started looking funny. "Look, space suits!" I exclaimed to the Scuba Diver. "No, those are dry suits..." he said. That would be underwater suits you wear over your clothes for diving in very cold water. Looked like NASA gear to me though. Or maybe chemical warfare suits.

The wetsuit I ended up purchasing looks like its straight out of Star Trek, all light blue with a little orange emblem in the middle and circular patterns on the shoulders. Luckily at that stall I had some dyke to help me dress and undress, though the painkillers also helped. I wasn't keen on that Star Trek look (Miss Chaos will love it!) at first but it was warm and well priced.

We compared prices to what my sister can get direct wholesale in the US and decided to make up a shopping list, and save the rest for her to send. Got info on Cuba diving, too, so all in all it was a very useful day. Apart from that I am still in pain.

On the way back home, the Scuba Diver talked about his troublesome friend again. She's not only shouted at her friends but even hit them. She throws people out of her car, and leaves their musical equipment on pavements outside pubs. It's becoming public, the Scuba Diver said; she's had a go at just about everyone who still speaks to her ex boyfriend. Admittedly he was a bit wanky when she started seeing someone else (2 years AFTER they split up) but it never occurred to me not to hang out with him. I met them at the same time; why have to choose? But I know I do not want to see her or encounter her wrath first hand. Power Pack and I are about the only people she has not yet shouted at.

The physical violence reminded me of myself, when I was 17 and would beat up my then boyfriend. And I feel grateful that I was forced to go to counselling after the Juju Princesses European tour. I always resented it, and some eye witnesses would even say I was the victim of bullying. I'm certainly not perfect now, but at least I don't lash out, screaming, shouting and hitting my friends. I have come such an incredibly long way since then.

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In other news....Mr Bleach came round yesterday. It's just me doing a painting, not a commission - no exchange of money. He was great about not minding the unfinished picture, and was overall a pleasant person. A young version of Mr Crisp, apart from that he likes music and art.

I've only had one life portrait model before, and we talked all during the sittings. That did not work as well with Mr Bleach, as talking for him involves all manner of facial gestures, nose wrinkling, rolling eyes, bobbing head up and down - generally very animated which is not suitable for life modelling! So we listened to CDs: the Mouldy Peaches, some spoken word thing and then - surprise - I did not force him to listen to the Lion Roses but instead to listen to you. He's heard of you on Indie emailing lists and such and seemed to like your CD.

Petra