If I said that I leaned slightly towards the side of eccentricity, how would you imagine me to be? An artistic, bourgeois who wears a kaftan, sipping Pimms with an aroma of cat urine heavily flavouring the air? Or maybe I’d be a mad writer locked away in the confinements of a library desperately researching my latest novel. If I was to be brutally honest and self deprecating then I’d have to say I’m perhaps a little bit in the middle of these two depictions.

I’m not artistic. Well not in the true sense of the word, I have been referred to that of an artist but it was more related to alcohol than the creative kind!

I am middle class but do feel I have more in common with the working class. I’ve worked in pubs and clubs since I was seventeen so there have been no airs and graces around me for quite some time.

I don’t own a kaftan.

I hate Pimms.

I have a cat but I can assure you there is no trace of his toilet habits in my house.

I fool around with madness, often. It suits me and I suit it, we have a long and continual relationship and I’m pretty sure I’d be lost without a little madness in my life.

I am a writer, obviously.

I don’t have a library.

So you see there are some similarities as to how you would imagine me. Oddly enough, none of the above stereotypes would offend me. I would love to have a bohemian lifestyle; enjoying Summer days with the grass between my toes; working as and when the mood took me. I’d also love to be able to acquire a taste for Pimms but I’m afraid my taste for vodka would win the argument.

As for me – the actual me. What can I tell you? Visually, I am most men’s dream woman. I am definitely no Pamela Anderson but I’m no wallflower either so before you start thinking that the “men”s dream’ thing is arrogance, it isn’t.

I am tallish, blonde, slim and wear a larger than average bra. Now before the girls reading this start to hate me; I cannot eat what I want to eat, I have cellulite and I look like shit first thing in the morning. I have some days when I hate my body and some days when I am fairly satisfied with what God gave me, however now I’m in my late 30’s I am reasonably happy in my own skin, enjoy my own company and don’t care about having sex with the light on anymore.

I am, I suppose, moderately content.

Personality wise, I am opinionated, outgoing, easily distracted, a little moody sometimes and these are my best bits! I used to care what people thought of me but that went out of the window when I realised that if people had a problem with me then that was exactly what it was – their problem.

I am tolerant but odiously impatient, however I don’t suffer fools gladly and if I think someone is giving me the run around, I’d have to say something, the same goes for people who won’t help themselves, victims; don’t get me started on that subject.

I have a large, eclectic group of friends who I can count on for anything and they know they can count of me equally for most things. They come to me a lot for advice and although it may help to get things off their chest, I’m not always able to help them find the answers. I have two teenage daughters who have certainly given me the tools to be able to deal with crisis, drama and humiliation. I haven’t seen everything in life but I’ve sure had a little glimpse.

I am particularly fond of fun and if I haven’t had a belly laugh every day then I feel cheated! My crow’s feet tell a thousand stories and every one of them would include laughter on a huge scale.

If there was ever a typical example of who or what I am I’d say I was like a Carry On film; a little bit saucy, full of comedy, serious in parts, very British and enjoyable to all those who watch it!