Hello one and all,
As my phone rang I was pleased my friends had made it, even if they were a couple of hours late. Answering the door and greeting them from their car Miss Tweedle-Dee and Miss Tweedle-Dumb waddled over with their stuff for our sleepover, and standing my communal porch outside my flat sparking up a cigarette before the dreaded three-flights of stairs to my loft apartment. I smiled to myself as I knew that this would probably be the last time we had to brave those steps.
"Why are all your lights off?" Miss Tweedle-Dee asked curiously.
"I don't know? Just haven't put them on since I got in from work. The TV is on though, cant you see the light?" I answered swiftly as to throw them off the scent with a cool yet panicked response. Changing the subject quickly we spoke about work and the weather and general niceties before stubbing out our fags. Welcoming them in I muttered about having to muster the courage to go up the stairs again. As my friends took to the steps I braced myself for what was to come.
"Guys. I have something to tell you!?" I said, face splitting into a smile that I quickly erased before they had a chance to look round.
"Oh my god, what is it now?" Miss Tweedle-Dee asked, shocked.
"Are you pregnant?" Miss Tweedle-Dumb asked frantic to know. No. I was not.
"Are you engaged?" She asked again desperate to discover my little lie. Nope. I am still happily a girlfriend to Mr. Warehouse. Suddenly the lights timed out as my bewildered bestie's stood wondering together in the darkness.
"OK well at least turn on the lights, I need to see your face when you tell me this." Miss Tweedle-Dee said reaching out for the switch.
"I have a confession to make and its something I have been hiding for a while" I noted, building up suspense. "I don't actually live here any-more!"
Confused I smiled mysteriously and as I was met by a barrage of abuse, questions and general foul language of confusion and non-comprehension I casually descended the stairs for the last time. Wiggling the key into the ground floor flat I turned and welcomed my best friends, Miss Tweedle-Dee and Miss Tweedle-Dumb, into my new home.
Shrieks and squeals came from both of them as they ran around, exploring and searching everywhere shouting and whooping all along. "Oh my goodness you have a garden. Oh wow a really big kitchen. Look at those twinkle lights. Amazing princess canopy bed! New wardrobe! How much more space we have for fun and games! Look at all the room!" and asking as many questions their little mouths could talk - How much is this more? Has Mr. Warehouse moved in with you? What is the bills like? Have you got a bath now rather than a car-wash of a shower? Are you getting a dog?!
After about half-hour of running round, being noisy and rambunctious, Miss Tweedle-Dee and Miss Tweedle-Dumb settled down and we talked for most the evening about my big reveal and the biggest surprise I have ever pulled on them. Laughing and giggling along I am glad that they were not mad, just overly excited and happy that I had moved into a 'big girls house'. And so that was Friday night. Soon we all headed to bed and awoke the next morning ready for some holiday shopping and coffee with cakes soon to be joined by a joyful Mr. Warehouse. But the joy was not to be had for long. Oh no ...
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Sunday I had planned a day out for Mr. Warehouse's birthday which was just last month. I had it all figured out and it would be a wonderful sparkling day with no hiccups! Sadly this was not true. Boarding the not-so-fast-train to London we struggled to find seats so settled in a walk-through-corridor with two flip-down seats. Making light of this we chose to pretend we were in our own private carriage with two entrances and windows either side. Lucky really for the 0944 to St. Pancras! Alighting at our final destination we headed to the tubes and straight to our first point of interest - Piccadilly Circus but more specifically the wondrous Ripley's Believe It Or Not! London! Entering the venue we handed over our tickets and began our walking tour of the exhibitions and museum artefacts. Coming round one corner I noticed something spectacular. A full size replica of the Titanic made out of matchsticks. Next to it was a tank. filled with the same icy cold water that would have attacked the lost victims of that fateful night in April 1912. -2 degrees. Below freezing. Fascinated by the Ship's gruesome tale and all things Titanica I took no hesitation in plunging my left hand into the tank of cold, needle-stabbing pain. After thirty-seconds or so I could no longer stand it and wiggling my fingers in an effort to keep warm just made it worse. Freeing my palm from the Chlorine water I was thankful and glad that I could get out of that situation and get warm again, unlike the hundreds and thousands of people that died, alone in deep blackness of that starry night.
"Lets have a competition to see how long we can keep our hands in?!" Mr. Warehouse said, rolling up his sleeves. "But to make it fair use your other hand as your left one has already had a dip."
And so as I took off and placed on the side my precious Alurring Brilliance ring from Pandora I bought whilst in Las Vegas in March this year and Sterling Silver and Cubic Zirconia ring, very similar to the Droplets ring by Pandora that I bought from a little boutique in Lyon, France whilst there not even a fortnight ago. Talking my way through the competition with Mr. Warehouse I was determined not to be beaten but alas I had to get out after again less than a minute. Drying off my hand and grabbing my bag I moved onto the next thing to see and eventually Mr. Warehouse and I made it back to the beginning. Taking a walk down to Buckingham Palace we walked and talked about the evenings entertainment of a Magic Show in London's West End. But as I stepped out across the red gravelly sand of The Mall I couldn't feel my rings on my right hand. Where are they?! Pockets?! Back Pockets!? Handbag?! I knew though where I had left them. Frantically I called Ripley's Believe It Or Not! London, praying to god that they had been handed in by some kind, kind person. But after what seemed like an eternity on hold the sorrow female voice returned to say that nothing had been handed in and nothing was found at the Titanic freeze tank. Mourning my beloved jewellery I spent the next hour or so moping around. I tried to blame it on Mr. Warehouse, saying that if he hadn't asked me to compete with him in a stupid game of "me verses you" then I would not have taken them off ergo not leaving them on the side for some thieving little bugger to pinch them.
Beyond sadness and only barely consolable I was taken to a posh Champagne Bar overlooking Trafalgar Square. Comforted by Macarons and milkshake I was reflective on how much of an idiot I was but also how I did not want to spoil such a lovely birthday day trip with Mr. Warehouse. Continuing with the days activities, albeit slightly subdued in happiness, we continued through some more typical tourist hotspots to the four-star, Kingsway Hall Hotel in Covent Garden for dinner. Moping still and with my phone battery dying Mr. Warehouse had a cracking idea. Lets just get pissed. And so he took me to the best bar we knew in town - Adventure Bar, Covent Garden. We had been here before on our mini-break over Valentines day earlier in the year and fell in love with the place always remembering fondly that time we went to London and went for spontaneous cocktails that got us very drunk indeed. I feel now though that it is somewhat a right of passage whereby whenever we now come to London, Adventure Bar, Covent Garden will be another tourist must-see.
Gathering ourselves together we finally came to our end stop of the day - The Leicester Square Theatre to see Tim Barnes in Something Fishy: An evening of magic and wonder. A tincy-wincy little room, blacked out and holding only around thirty people we as an audience were shown a mirage of card tricks, fire magic, rope tomfoolery and surprises left both me and Mr. Warehouse mouths wide and aghast with questionable curiosity. Soon there was an assistant to be had and like the great Debbie McGee I stepped into the limelight and provided myself for the crowd. The magician, Tim Barnes, handed me a piece of paper with a prediction of which animal would be on a card I had just selected from a bag of children's picture cards. It was a rat. Doing as he said I placed it carefully inside a tiny black box and closed shut making sure the audience saw I had locked it tight. Swanning back over I was asked a series of questions and was given some information about animals before being asked to disclose my animal card. Then I was asked if I could retrieve the prediction from the little black box. Unlocking the catch and raising the lid I pondered on how I would unveil this ending to the anticipating crowd of people. but as I lifted the door of the box out popped a little nose. Then a whisker. Then an ear. Handling him gently I held up the live and very wriggly rat named Fifi. Black and White patches covered her body with silky smooth fur and as I petted her I wanted to take her home, imagining all the fun we would have in my new home!
Unfortunately Mr. Warehouse does not care for rodents, especially the ratty variety and jumped out of his skin as I raised the little cutie for all to see. Amazed and bewildered at how Tim Barnes had done it the audience looked on as I guessed that the small seem at the bottom of the box housed this little critter until the magical moment! Enjoying the lights and enthusiasm from the room of faces I reluctantly handed back the rat named Fifi and took my seat once more.
There were up's and down's but I enjoyed myself and especially when the best bit of the whole day was only £12.00 spent which is equivalent to two Starbucks and a muffin if your lucky. All in all I suppose it was a good day, apart from leaving my rings behind. Loosing something precious and meaningful that has not much monetary value but personal value in shed loads is horrible, and especially so when you know that you are the type of person to go and hand something like that back in so as to be retrieved by its rightful owner. But at least maybe I can look forward to brightening my mood slightly this week as it is my birthday on Friday. And whilst I will be turning the ripe old age of twenty-four I will certainly be partying and drinking my way through my first forty-eight hours! Bring on Mid-twenties!
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
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