DAY 14 BITCHES!

Another purely gratuitous pic of the delectable Wentworth I know, but it is loosely related to what I'm about to say, I promise...

This weekend has been nothing short of hellish for no other reason than a lack of nicotine.

Fucking cancer.

I had foolishly thought that once I was past the first week, I would be OK. But alas no...

I don't know why it was so bad, but I assume the cravings that drove me to distraction and forced me to contemplate throwing myself under a bus were due to the fact that I wasn't at work.

Temptation was everywhere and I almost caved after the 13th newsagents I walked past. Everyone seemed to be smoking and all I could think was 'why do they get to smoke and I can't?'

I was miserable and I knew that it would all go away if I just had a cigarette...

But I persevered, worked through it and satiated my cravings with impure thoughts of Mr Miller (see, told you there was a reason for the pic! I swear to God, if I didn't have him to distract me, I would be smoking myself into a coma as I type).

In the end, I had to go home and literally hide. I drew the curtains in the living room and watched season 1 of Prison Break on DVD.

That may be the saddest thing I've ever admitted to and could constitute a cry for help but I don't give a shit.

I gotta do what I gotta do and you gotta do what you gotta do...

So I've made it to day 14, thank God, and I feel great...yay!

God bless you Wentworth Miller!

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Today just gets better...

My stars in the Metro:

Capricorn
Some Capricorns are definitely yearning in secret for a love they cannot, or shouldn't, have. If you're one of them, the yearning goes big today. If not, thank your lucky stars your only celebrity crush is on a celebrity.

Then I read this in the Holy Moly newsletter:

Sound Of The (30,000 ft) Overground
Which member of pop quintet Girls Aloud recently got tiddly and fiddly with Wentworth Miller - he of the tattooed torso from hit US TV drama 'Prison Break' - during a recent Virgin (the irony) Atlantic flight to LA?

It had been reported in the tabloids that the Irish pop strumpet was on a mercy dash to patch up her on-off relationship with a male star from the biggest TV show in the US.

Apparently our chatty songstress was sitting at the Upper Class bar supping champers when her Lucky Charms were noted by Miller.

After some inevitable flirting and comparison of bank accounts and tattoos, the couple decided to sky-test those really posh beds shown on the adverts (though the adverts only show one person in the bed - and definitely no rimming).

To the annoyance of their fellow passengers, the lady in question is a bit of a 'screamer', and her Catholic background was made fairly obvious by her cries of, "Oh Jesus, oh Mary Mother of God, there, that's the spot" etc. This led to complaints and a red-faced flight attendant was dispatched to ask the lady in question if she could be more... not so loud.

Frolics done, the singer bid her mile-high partner adieu, re-applied her make up, did her hair and hauled her swollen mons off the plane, before racing into the arms of her desperate boyfriend who was waiting at the gate.

*squeal*

Maybe he isn't so gay after all Perez Hilton, you fat fuck.

If that story is true, which I choose to assume it is, then it is proof undeniable that there is a God...WENTWORTH MILLER IS STRAIGHT! And that Nadine Coyle has exquisite taste in men.

Today is like, the best day evah!

Or maybe my stars relate to the boy in the office I fancy, but more of that, and how it effects numer 13 on Monday...

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Day 1: My Nicotine Hell

Oh God save me. Why did I say that I was going to give up smoking?

Fucking list.

At exactly 11.27pm last night, I had my last taste of that sweet, sweet nicotine.

For anyone that knows me, this is no mean feat. I'm not ashamed to admit (although I probably should be) that I *love* smoking. It's the only thing I'm good at and I'm not one of these people who constantly moans about wanting to give up. I actually *enjoy* smoking, and not just because it makes me look cool and smell *grate*, but because it makes me happy.

Sad but true.

But it's on the fucking list and I don't want to go into my 30s a smoker so here I am, all patched up and anxiously gnawing my way through a pack of gum.

I knew it would be hard but fuck me! Didn't sleep a wink last night, I'm irritable, my head is killing me and my sides ache.

This is hell. I hope it gets better. It has to.

Emailed my friends earlier warning them that I've given up and I fear I may murder someone so one of them will probably need to supply alibi. I wish I was joking.

The withdrawal mood swings are crazy.

Had to get up at some ungodly hour this morning to make it into work for a four hour (yes four hour) departmental meeting. Of course it was raining and the train was late, and packed, and crawled all the way to Waterloo because of engineering works.

To make matters worse, the well-dressed man who was sitting opposite me on the train had the audacity to ask me to turn my iPod down because we were sitting in a 'Quiet Zone'. I did but not before telling him to 'get fucked' under my breath.

Luckily he didn't push it, he could probably sense that I was on the verge of beating him to death with my umbrella.

I swear to God, if I had a gun, I would have shot him in the face.

Talking of violent behaviour, season 2 of Prison Break and most notably Wentworth Miller, are proving to be a rather delicious distraction.

If I never smoke again can I have him please?

Now that would be an incentive to give up...

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