Perfect Arse, Perfect friends, perfectly imperfect.

A series of rambling events.

I have the perfect arse, courtesy of Bath Spa. Last week I was exfoliated, covered in impurity sucking mud, massaged, re hydrated and steamed. I now have thighs like silk and was utterly exhausted by the whole experience. Being a lady of leisure must be a tiresome task. Thank you so kindly to the husband of my dear friend that provided the experience.

Back to friends. In spite of the unpleasantness that continues to permeate my existence, I consider my life enriched by the sheer generosity and kindness of those around me.

Thank you to the friend that ignores my crisis's of confidence and forces me into facing my demons and opens the possibility of a career and a future.

Thank you to the friend that is always there and gave me a spa day in a bid to calm me down (which I still have due to my perverse thought process that I needed to be calm to use it, and yes, I will use it before then)

Thank you to the friend that offers to run down all of those that cause me upset, to the friends that make me laugh and take me out.

Thank you to the friends that have a savings pot so the children and I can accompany them to Paultons Park for the day in June. Thank you to the friends husband who makes me sublime lunches and insists that I eat them, to the friend that patiently listens to me vent spleen, knowing that once it is, out I am half way there.

Thank you to all that have listened to my heartbreak over the man I thought was my soul mate and haven't actually shot me. Thank you to ex blind date for simply being there. Thank you to my once life guru who, despite freaking me out - was instrumental in teaching me to hold onto sanity, let go off bitterness and regain my life.

Thank you to the friend that gave me 10 weeks of NLP when I couldn't afford it and thank you to the friend who hid a sum of money in my bed this week, knowing that if she had still been in the country when I discovered it, I would never have accepted it.

Friendship, I learn is not about what people do, it is fact that they do it. I am bless, feel loved and am certain that I have done little in your lives that deserve the kind of friendship that I have been offered.

Perfect friends and the perfect arse. Perfect.

Moving on to the not so perfect. It seems that the great divorce debacle continues. With child maintenance coming in at just £295 per month, I took the view that since financial responsibility was for the most part going to be down to me, the most important thing in this has been trying to maintain stability.

Knowing the history as I do, I have taken the view that the best thing is to work my now perfect arse off and figure a way of trying to pay the mortgage. Divorce is traumatic enough, acrimonious divorce more so - without the prospect of having to relocate area completely. Since 'It' already has another house that he purchased himself some years ago, it is not that either of us are homeless.

I still find it mind blowing that a couple can have children, know each other for their entire adult life and end up in the situation where one party wants to force a sale, the other part wants to keep the home for the sake of the children and the only people getting rich are the solicitors.

I quite like my solicitor. She is not nasty, always writes politely and stays level headed and keen to resolve without extra expense. Not so easy when the opposing solicitor is keen to stay locked in battle. Last week I sent off a letter in response to questions and with a few key questions that had still not been answered. I resent throwing money at solicitors and since the questions and statements were all accurate and pertinent, my solicitor agreed there was no benefit in her re writing them and charging me for the privilege. Since every pound is coming off our future, it seemed prudent not to burn the stuff.

The response back was interesting. The 'opposing' solicitor was seemingly outraged at my solicitor and not prepared to answer questions put forward by me, only ones rewritten by the solicitor. It beggars belief. I do have to question who's divorce this is. Tomorrow, I shall be investigating which law that say's a spouse cannot ask any questions unless she is prepared to pay £200ph for someone else to write them for them.

So despite all best efforts, it seems we are going to court. It will be long and protracted and given a recent legal overview - will be so historically financially complicated that it could go on for some time.

I am now resolved to this. For months I have reworded solicitors letters too minimise reactions and it would appear it has been in vane. On the plus side, I have learnt it is a waste of time and so therefore there is no need to waste further time. Good from bad etc.

What will be, will be. Having attempted to settle without the need for in depth investigation and more appropriate finances and having got no where - I think it prudent to let the Barristers take over. It may be burning money but since there are no better solutions available it would appear that this has to be the only route to walk. The only other one is to accept everything at face value and have to relocate completely. The children would be horrified and I like my friends too much to go back to the Norfolk plan.

I have great admiration for men that leave their wives and keep things amicable for the children. I fail to understand bitterness, I fail to understand how someone can have so much resentment that they refuse to look the woman that gave birth to their children in the eye.

I fail to understand how someone can be happy for you to take the responsibility for your children, to raise them single handily, to feed them, look after them at the same time as working to financially support and provide for them with the things they need, and refuse to even speak with them. I fail to understand why anyone would need to hold onto, or even have animosity. I will never understand why you would not want to be supportive to the person who has been left in that role in providing a secure and friendly environment for your children. I will never understand why, given the fact that it was not I that left, it was not I that embarked on an extramarital affair - why it is not I that is not consumed with anger. I have at least stopped trying to understand the unachievable.

I am unclear as to why when a marriage is over, why both parties are simply not accepting of that fact. If everyone was okay with this, there would be no place for acrimony.

So for all the couples that work things out by the simplicity of conversations, to all those fathers that though left, work alongside the mother in raising children, for all those fathers that do not want their children to be witness to acrimony, court cases, financial hardship and the kind of parenting whereby one parent takes them out, the other doesn't and never the twain shall meet. For all those Fathers that are there to listen to the tales of night terrors, tummy aches and anger. For all those fathers that stand alongside their ex-wives in civility, maturity and respect for the role they are left with. I take my hat off to you. Should I ever be foolish enough to remarry - you are the kind of men I would be seeking.

For all those that cannot do this, you can kiss my now perfect arse.