Gatecrashing With Gordon!

Hello, 

OK I get it. I am super shit at actually doing the whole weekly blog thing and all but I promise I had a genuine reason this time (Not that being violently sick with a viral infection wasn't enough of a reason). I was getting my hair done, and yes, I know it sounds like literally the lamest excuse in the book but I had the wonderful Miss Hackney practise her hairdressing skills on me by installing nearly two-hundred micro-ring hair extensions. I now have luxurious, wavey blonde hair that both Miss Tweedle-Dee and Miss Tweedle-Dumb have now nicknamed me either Stevie Nicks or Shakira, either of which I don't mind all that much. Besides they have called me worse things. But seriously I promise I will try and get better at the whole weekly write-up thing as I know you guys all miss it when I don't write and just disappear off the face of the planet. 

This past week I will be honest has been a bit crazy, and it doesn't look as though the social calender is going to be letting up any time soon, especially on the run up to Christmas. Monday I had my hair extensions fitted (taking over six-hours). On Tuesday Mr. Warehouse, Miss Tweedle-Dee and I went to see the beautifully shot and edited new film Allied starring Brad Pitt and Marion Cotillard. I wont spoil the film but for someone who is not that into history from the World Wars (Nothing against it I just kind of got bored being a guinea pig for all my Dads Army Road Trips touring different battle grounds in norther Europe growing up) I thoroughly enjoyed it and would even go as far as to say that honestly the film spoke to an inner, deeper meaningfulness inside of me that I never expected. I feel like a part of myself is rooted back there in '40s and '50s Britain. Things were simpler, no mobile phones, no social media, not even a TV unless you were very wealthy. Fun and enjoyment was made with people and communities around you not a virtual world of fluff and noise. Anyway I digress, Wednesday I had my eyelash extensions done (They are incredible by the way and I love them oh so much), Thursday was dinner and drinks with work which fell through so Mr. Warehouse and I went for some instead. And then there was Friday. Ohhh sweet Friday!

After waiting in all day at work, terrified that my precious and rather pricey (Over £100.00) BooHoo.com order would not arrive I finished work without it and very angry indeed I now had no choice but to make do and mend (Certainly not the attitude of a '40s and '50s Housewife I might add). Heading home from work I hurriedly got ready and headed out the door, glammed up to the nines and with Mr. Warehouse in toe we soon arrived at the venue. Where were we? Well it would have appeared that the Taxi-Cab dropped up at Tre Fratelli & The Cross Keys Country pub & Kitchen in Wood End, Bedfordshire. It might have just so happened to be our old works Christmas 'Do and we had turned up to gate-crash. Despite being excluded from the guest list and being told by several people in advance that I was not welcome in not so many words, I walked into the bar and ordered some drinks. Already I felt anxious and could see that all eyes were on me and my dearest boyfriend. And why shouldn't we be there. We worked for the majority of 2016 there and I even put down my choices on the set menu for the meal so if anyone deserves to gatecrash it me! 

In all fairness I think that there was a few faces that were very pleased to see me indeed. Sales reps seemed to appreciate the effort I had made with my outfit and complemented me on how "well" I looked, although the sincere comment may have been slightly tarnished with there gaze held at my chest. I didn't mind though as I could tell that they were already boarding the train to drunkville, steaming full force towards a hangover and sore head the following morning. I myself was very drunk by this point after drinking copious amounts of Gin and Lemonade and even moreso of my Night Out special - Screwdriver. Besides I wanted my dress to turn heads and drop jaws and boy I had certain done that this evening I thought to myself, pleased of the impression I would be leaving my ex-colleagues. Oh what I would have given to be a fly on the wall this morning. 

Many people I saw again I had not seen since before I left and I was thrilled to have such a warm response from most people in the room. Along with the few questions about when Mr. Warehouse and I are going to get hitched from some of his close family and friends (Yes you know who you all are!), most people were even glad to see me, relieved almost shouting out loud that the party could really begin now I had arrived. I did take a moment though on the dance floor, with the music blaring, vision slightly blurry (tears or just drunk I don't know) I genuinely questioned why I left and if I had made the right decision. I caught Mr. Warehouse looking at me and he leaned in, kissed me on the forehead and said 
"I knew you would get like this, so I want you to know that I am proud you came out here tonight and you should be to. You moved for a better life and a way forwards, so don't look back in doubt." And he was right. My bank balance certain speaks for itself when I think about if it was the right decision or not. The people I loved were all there but they were not the reason I left but the reason I stayed so long I think. Nevertheless I was pleased to return to my busy desk today in the knowledge that I would not have been so had I not taken my new job. 

Heading into Bedford Town Centre to conclude our night I spent most of the night necking back Vodka and Orange, grooving on the dance floor and within a few hours I had blew a couple of ponies and was heading to the Kebab shop for a snackette before bed. I awoke the following morning with the most stinking headache and a back pain to match. Suffice to say I will not be drinking Gin in a while. Far. Too. Drunk. I normally remember the night out I had the evening before and everything that happened in it but for some odd reason Gin for me is like a dodgy etch a sketch, erasing parts of my night-time only leaving me with confusing puzzle pieces and no glue?! The rest of the weekend was spent in the company of the besties, Miss Tweedle-Dee and Miss Tweedle-Dumb all washed down with little sleep and lots of belly-cramping laughs to be had. 

And so I pack away my eighteen-year-old party-girl in her box, only to crack her out again this weekend, but maybe in a more demure and sophisticated evening for my new work colleagues have invited me to their Christmas Party and I am looking forward to seeing what sort of banter they are when they're not at their desks being serious. 

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx