Well it’s been 25 days since last I wrote – that is a long time for verbacious me! I haven’t been slacking off – I’ve been on holiday. So sort of slacking off, but in a busy way. I have had a lot of firsts in the past few weeks and thought I might share some with you.

Most significantly, I’ve been on a cruise.

Ten nights sailing around the South Pacific. What bliss! For two decades I tried to convince my husband to do a cruise and finally as our 25th wedding anniversary rocked around, he agreed. Neither of us are drinkers or party goers so we were nervous about crowds of people getting trashed every night, but despite there being nearly 3000 people on board, there was plenty of space and places to go for quiet and alone time together. The nightly shows were amazing. Swimming in breathtaking tropical waters was stunning. And the absolute highlight was the two of us doing the “Titanic” experience on a glorious sunset evening.

One of the reasons the cruise was so amazing, is we splashed out for a suite. Then we were upgraded to the penthouse so were treated like the most important people on the ship. That is definitely a new experience for me! And somewhat uncomfortable. I am not used to having two lovely young men clean my room twice a day and line all my shoes up in neat little rows, or bring my freshly laundered underwear back to my room – neatly pressed. While one part of me would love to get used to the idea, the other part is horrified. I believe however, the penthouse experience is what made the cruise so memorable for us both. We had a wonderful suite with a huge balcony and two bathrooms to retire to at any time, and we had priority service at restaurants and disembarkation. We felt so relaxed and cruisey the whole time!

I must confess, I considered the trip itself to be our gift to each other, so aside from a nice box of chocolates, hadn’t purchased anything else. However, when we arrived in our penthouse suite, there was a lovely bottle of cold champagne. My husband doesn’t drink, so I did my best and drank two glasses all by myself (that’s a lot for me!) I then wandered around and discovered the beauty salon.

While under the influence of a few bubbles, I made an appointment for a Brazilian wax. 

You’ll never look back! the girls’ said. Yeah right… I rocked up the next day – completely sober – wondering what the fuck I had signed myself up for. Let’s just remember for a moment, I am a lass with fairly significant body image issues, so baring my lily-white ass to a complete stranger is an anxiety-inducing event of epic proportions. None-the-less, I wanted to surprise my husband.

So I stepped out of my shorts and knickers while a lovely young woman was asking me how thick my forest was. Umm… Not too bad? I have no idea really – having nothing to compare it with. Here’s how my first Brazilian wax experience went. I lie on my back naked from the waist down. The nice young girl gets wax strips, pressing them into my apparently sparse forest. Then she rips them out in one swift motion. We chat about all sorts of stuff that has nothing to do with pain and indignity so both of us can pretend we’re catching up over a nice latte.

Then I bend one knee right out to the side – so she can get a good close look at my lady parts. Now that we’re getting to sensitive areas, she applies hot melted wax rather than strips. She periodically tests the wax to see if it’s cooled then rips those bits out too. Once the forest is denuded on that side, it’s the other knee out. All good so far. Now comes the fun bit. I lift my legs into the air, hug my knees and pull them back as tight as I can. I make a mental note not to ask if she can see my hemorrhoids (eating disorders play havoc with bowel regulation – there’s a lovely topic for another day), but I am also somewhat grateful for my hypermobility.

She rips out the last of the hairy patches then finishes the job by finding a pair of tweezers to pluck out errant pubes that refuse to be evicted with the rest of their friends. Twenty minutes after we began, I’m having talcum powder gently patted onto my now completely bare privates. I have no recollection of the last time talcum powder was applied down there, but let’s just assume it’s been over 50 years. It wasn’t until late that evening my husband discovered what I’d been doing while he was napping, and he remains very grateful for his anniversary gift.

Now, in all the 25 years we have been married, he has never purchased me a single piece of jewellery.

He has many amazing and redeeming qualities, but nobody has ever accused him of being a hopeless romantic. Imagine my surprise after our sunset “Titanic” experience, when he arrived at dinner with tears in his eyes and a little box in hand. You have no idea how much I love you, and he hands me the box. Inside is a gorgeous amethyst ring with eight little diamonds.

Amethyst is my birthstone and matches the amethyst necklace I absolutely adore, inherited from my mother. So not only has he purchased me a piece of jewellery, but organised it weeks in advance of our actual anniversary, worked out what I like, and managed to find a ring that fits like a glove. I was absolutely speechless. Then our waitress realised what was happening so arranged for the chef to send us a little cake with happy anniversary written on it, and have the whole restaurant sing to us. One very memorable evening, and one very memorable cruise!