成人快手

Sunday 26 October

The 80-mile round trip to rehearsals was the last thing I wanted to do today.

While it was absolutely tipping it down outside, my husband and I were creating a scenario inside that according to some of the morning鈥檚 newspaper reports, Guy Ritchie would be proud off.

Tucked up on our sofas, the Sunday papers were scattered across the floor as we took in reports of the week鈥檚 events, both political and pointless, yesterday鈥檚 football highlights were on Sky, a roast dinner was being prepared and the prospect of the EastEnders omnibus was looming invitingly on the horizon. We were even having one of our ridiculous discussions. This morning, in the continuation of an argument that began during last night鈥檚 Match of the Day, we were hotly debating whether or not the Coventry City manager Chris Coleman looked like Middlesbrough manager Gareth Southgate (for the record, I think he does).

So, while the 鈥淟ock Stock鈥� director would have loved the typical Englishness of our morning, I became the Madonna of the relationship and prepared to don dance gear inappropriate to my age and leave the home to go out and rehearse!

When I got there, I started dancing with any other partner who would have me while waiting for my own to arrive. But after about an hour, and fastly becoming some kind of dance hall tart, it became clear that my partner wasn鈥檛 coming. Everybody else鈥檚 had arrived by now so I sensed that something wasn鈥檛 quite right so I ventured to ask gingerly where he was.

Well, apparently he is injured. Yes, injured and I can assure you that this was nothing to do with me. Unless of course, my hip action last week had scarred him for life and he would never dance again!

So, what to do? Well apparently, he has a bad knee. Hopefully he will recover in time for the event, otherwise we may have to publish online a special downloadable picture of the affected joint so that we can all lay our hands on in a David Beckham / metatarsal / Uri Gueller-esque way and pray for his speedy recovery. It鈥檚 either that or trying to get hold of Anton du Beke鈥檚 phone number!

I even asked teacher Reg if I could dance with him, but he informed that he couldn鈥檛, because he would be one of the judges. This, I felt, was not a problem 鈥� but it seems that he felt differently!

I left the rehearsal feeling a little disheartened and wondering why I had ever let myself in for what was now certain to be ritual humiliation. And, not only that, I had missed seeing the mighty Reds stuff Chelsea.

Oh well, at least I had the aforementioned dinner to reheat and watch in front of the Strictly results show!

Tuesday 28 October

Still no word on my poorly partner. Some dance training had been arranged for tonight at the offices in Luton but I felt that I really was now at the stage when I needed to be dancing with who I would be with on the night, rather than touting myself out to all and sundry! Now, I don鈥檛 want to make a fuss, after all, it鈥檚 鈥渇or the kiddies鈥� and all a bit of fun. But 鈥�. I fear I am going to look a complete fool. And after all, I have put a lot of time and effort into this .... sorting my outfit has taken ages!

I spoke to the teacher Fiona about my worries, who assured me that if my partner didn鈥檛 recover in time for the event, they would double people up. This I don鈥檛 mind, after all, I have danced with practically every other bloke taking part already, bar compere Gareth, but if all else fails 鈥� watch out Lloyd, I鈥檓 coming for your Cha Cha!

I have now arranged for an extra practice session on Saturday, all being well, and if not, then I鈥檒l just have to wing it on the night I guess.

Wednesday 29 October

Things are looking up. I still don鈥檛 have a fit partner but at least my dress has arrived! I love it 鈥� and I will be wearing it on the night even if I have to stand in the middle of the dance floor on my own, partner-less, stamping my foot and simply shouting 鈥渓ook at me in my pretty dress鈥�!

I may have to make a slight adjustment to reduce the chances of me going 鈥榓鈥� over 鈥榯鈥� though. I spent a good 15 minutes just swanning around my living room and, much to the chagrin of the cat, who was trying to get some sleep, nearly ended up head first through the plasma after an unfortunate combination of a mishap on a spin, coupled with a heel in the netting.

Thursday 30 October

Splashed out on a load of cheap bling from a budget clothes store in the hope that shiny, tacky jewellery will dazzle the judges so much that they won鈥檛 even notice my feet!

I now only need to worry about hair - both the styling of and removal of 鈥� and finding a partner of course!