Chocolate porn

As a women, when you receive a giant bar of chocolate it stirs up a whole raft of emotions. Excitement, anticipation, greed with a little fear and distrust thrown in for good measure.

Last night upon return from Geneva, Steve pulled the biggest Toblerone I've ever seen out of his duty free bag like a rabbit from a hat- only much better. He then gave it to me as a gift.

She twinkled and shone at us from her mantelpiece vantage point, surveying the lessor mortals in the room, pondering her wonder and the likely destruction her mere presence could create.

At some point in the evening I caught Steve looking wistfully at her, as if she were a curvaceous lady in revealing bright red lace underwear and he casually asked me whether I was going to put her in the freezer.

"Why would I do that? I hate cold chocolate" I responded.

"No reason, I just thought you might" He answered.

"I was thinking about taking the chocolate to work, and then home to share with the girls" I countered, feeling more than a little put out that he clearly had made designs on my bar.

"It wasn't meant for you and your work colleagues" he snapped.

"Oh, so it wasn't meant for me?" I asked and waited for the reply.

"I didn't mean that, I meant I hadn't bought it for your work colleagues."

"Well it's a gift for me, so surely I can do what I want with it, and I choose to take it to work and then home."

"Fine."

"Fine."

In hindsight of course I realise this was very greedy and I ought to have agreed to put a small amount of the bar in the freezer for Steve and I would take the rest. But this is what happens when you're in the presence of 'my precious'.

This morning I gently took her from the mantelpiece and placed her in my bag. She peeked out in a provocative fashion, just enough to glimmer and catch the eye of passers turning a few heads as I strolled towards the underground.

In the tube I worried incessantly about whether she was comfortable or whether we were pushing the boundaries of her ideal conditions, 'cool and dark'. She made it though, and barely broke a sweat on her gleaming golden wrappers.

Once in the safety of the office I unveiled her. Riddled with a maternal protectiveness when people saw her and wanted to touch her, I had to suppress an urge to shout 'Stand BACK'.

Before I knew it, we had hit 11am and with a cup of steaming tea on my desk I caught her looking at me and she seemed to say, 'I'm ready." I peeled back the wrapping and exposed her mountainous nougatey peaks. She didn't succumb easily to my gentle pressure and demanded more force so I placed my clammy hands on her soft surface and snapped away a giant piece.

Cramming her into my mouth, I felt her soften and succumb to me, melting into a chocolaty oblivion with only the tough nutty bits remaining as proof of her existence.

I'll never forget you little piece of heaven from Geneva.

However, If I have to eat another piece of you I might be sick, so I'll let Natalie devour the rest.

You too can have a perfect life....at a cost

Well, it turned out to be quite a hectic weekend, a quick dash to the Natural History museum for the Shell Wildlife Photographer of the year exhibition- well worth a visit if you happen to find yourselves around the South Ken area, and then Gavin's 30th birthday party, which strangely enough, marked the end of any further weekend activity. Not to mention the fact that it has left me without voice, and with a nasty hacking cough.

This is the mark of great party I suppose and thanks to Sam and Gavin, for a heck of a bash. I haven't arrived at a party at midnight recently to find the carnage is already so extreme that there are several bodies in beds, and people pegging it to the toilet to empty their stomachs at regular intervals. I was well positioned in the bedroom to watch all these antics with great amusement, and it made me happy to see well, we can all still be very childish when we want.

Sunday morning I was lying in bed battling with the sleep demons and I received a call from an old work colleague. Strange, as this was someone who never calls, and whose number was really only my phone due to an occasional 'car share to work' agreement some years ago. When you get an out of the blue call like that from someone fairly distant, it always alarms me somewhat. I suppose it's out of my comfort zone.

Perhaps it was rude, but I was too hungover and pickled to consider answering a call and making small talk so I let the call go to my voicemail, and out of curiosity, listened to the message. Alarm Bells. My friend spoke of a 'great thing' she's been doing, a course in London which has 'changed her life' and she wanted me to come along on Tuesday night so 'I could experience it'. She ended the call saying she was so excited about the prospect of sharing this with me, and would phone back in a couple of hours.

I could think only of two words.

Landmark Forum.

If you're someone who's ever had any dealings with this organisation, either directly or through a third party, then you'll be familiar with my reaction. Perhaps if you have 5 minutes you could even go as far as to plug Landmark into google and see what is said. I think you'll find that it will go some way to validate what I am about to type.

The reason I'm familiar with Landmark is that one of my close friends got involved with them and enrolled in several of their courses a couple of years ago. At the time she was perhaps somewhat vulnerable, questioning what she wanted and needed from her life, questioning the way she interacted with others and basically suffering from a period of low self esteem. She discovered Landmark and she loved it. It had an alarmingly powerful impact on her, and she preached it's effectiveness to all who would listen. She was increasingly encouraged to promote the course to all her friends, to organise introduction meetings and to 'push' the ideas.

The frightening effectiveness of the thought process behind Landmark makes its success easy to understand. Once you are enlightened to their thought patterns, you then take it upon yourself to spread the word. To improve your friends lives as well. It's a lovely sentiment. I want to make my friends lives richer, happier and more content.

But is it? Is it a nice thing to make people feel that if they don't want to attend this course, it's because of fear and cowardice. That they owe it to themselves and their friends to undertake this and to spread the word and that if they don't they are somehow living a lessor life.

These are the Landmark Forum's 'seven commandments' for being an extraordinary person:

· Be Racket-Free: give up being right - even when you know you were.

· Be Powerful: be straight in your communication and take what you get.

· Be Courageous: acknowledge your fear (not necessarily get rid of it) and then act.

· Be Peaceful: give up the interpretation that there's something wrong.

· Be Charismatic: give up trying to get somewhere. Be entirely fulfilled in the present moment.

· Be Enrolling: share your new possibilities in such a way that others are touched, moved and inspired.

· Be Unreasonable: in expectations of yourself and others beyond what you would think they are capable of.

Funny how they don't mention the ability to be an effective salesperson, to be manipulative and glib and make money by trading on people's fears and vulnerabilities. This is essentially a massive commercial organisation, and they make a lot of money. People are encouraged to pyramid sell, to friends and families.

I love the idea of enlightenment, but I don't believe it should come at a financial cost, or that it should come as a result of peer pressure, guilt or self-doubt. If you make a decision to make your life happier, turn to trusted sources for ways to help you, and if you ask me, don't trust the Landmark.

By the way, the friend I mentioned who completed all of their courses, she won't have anything to do with the forum now, and certainly wouldn't recommend them to anyone.

Be wary.