X-cellent Christmas

Ho Ho Ho - Merry Christmas, 

Waking on Christmas morning as I normally do in my old room at my Dad's Girlfriend's House. Cold winter sun peeking through the window I awoke with the sound of Mr. Warehouse's pooch running up the stairs and wagging her tail furiously against the door. Letting her in we had a cuddle before I realised just what day it was ... IIITS CHRIIIISTMAAAS!!!

Heading down stairs I was greeted, not by the Santa ambush I had always anticipated as a child, but by the mountain of presents sat in a pile all for me. Sitting on the floor yet more doggy cuddles ensued and Mr. Warehouse and I took some time before my Dad and his Girlfriend came down to join us. I soon realised that our Kanine's stocking had more presents in it that some of the gift bags for close, human family members. Nevertheless our Pup seemed to enjoy her biscuits, treats, dog chocolate, toys, squeaky things and tit-bit's. Even the Christmas jumper was a hit and she stayed in it all day comfortably. 

Seeing the gifts my Dad, his partner and Mr. Warehouse had bought me I was more than happy to get started. After settling down with the "adults" and a cup of coffee, I started to unwrap the beautifully glittered and shiny paper. Hair accessories, beauty gifts, make-up, nail varnish and pamper treats I was certainly in no way going to run out of things and ways to pretty myself. Mr. Warehouse's car smellies (AKA air fresheners), sewing kit, clothes and my main pressie was a beautiful, new Lenovo Tablet/Laptop. I can hardly believe how spoilt I was by everyone as well as my Dad and other family members. More gifts included gift vouchers for different restaurants so Mr. Warehouse and I can have dinner somewhere nice, Candles ... Yankee of course, copious amounts of chocolate and biscuits. 

Now was the big time though, for it was Mr. Warehouse's time to unwrap his final few gifts. He started with some flat box shaped presents. Unwrapping them I apologised for the format, knowing full well what was to come. 
"I thought it was for Xbox 360 love, sorry. I will have to take them back to the store next week and get the right ones. So sorry Hunny." I said sympathetically. Looking at Mr. Warehouse's little face though I was just buzzing for the next few minutes to pass by. This had been over a year in the making. I had wanted to buy Mr. Warehouse an Xbox One (The new Microsoft game console) last Christmas in 2015, although by the time it came out I had already purchased the flight tickets to Dublin, and although I had really given it some serious thought into selling them and buying the console I decided against it. We obviously had a fantastic time, and I pondered that it would probably be cheaper come his birthday in August. The difference being is that in April, Mr. Warehouse left his job and had a few of his fingers in different pies for a while, some of which never worked out and as a result finances were very, very tight as I kept our little family afloat throughout the summer. As Autumn came and the leaves began to fall I started to pay more attention to the prices of the consoles and games, even more-so than I had before. But passing my driving test, buying a car and a career move I thought would have taken a toll on my bank balance but in fact has had the slight opposite effect. In spite of this, come Black Friday I awoke earlier than Christmas morning and logged online to see the deals that were about. Finding a corker I nailed it down, purchasing a Xbox One S with Fifa 17. In the following weeks I bought some bits here and bobs there as well as two further games. 

But now came the moment that my loving boyfriend was sat in PJ's with a furrowed brow wondering if I am just that stupid to buy the wrong formatted games or if I have been playing him for months. Opening the large box found down the side of the arm chair he was sat in, his face sunk. 
"This is a cruel joke. This is horrible. You haven't?! You couldn't have!?" Mr. Warehouse exclaimed, excited yet dubious. Opening the box, still not sure if it was just something heavy weighing it down rather than the actual real-deal. However after disguarding the remaining packaging there was nothing left but a white Xbox One S and Fifa 17. There was no hiding now. It was true and the dream had come true. 

Still in shock throughout the rest of the day we muddled through Christmas Dinner, more presents, visits to friends and family, wine, arguments and unimaginable amounts of food. Even now as we sit in Momma Warehouse's Boyfriends house in the Cambridgeshire countryside I don't think he really believes it, that is until we get home tomorrow and have a good play on all our toys. Jokingly I said I wouldn't see him until June 2017, but now I am not so sure that it is wrong. 

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

Another Week, Another Christmas Party ...

Hello, 

Saturday night I rolled up late (as usual) to my new work's Christmas do, dressed to the nines and looking hopefully like a sparkly black and red Christmas cracker. Don't worry I was actually invited to this one. Eating my meal and mingling I wondered how it compared to the last Christmas party I attended less than a week earlier. But that was an unfair comparison. I had only been in my new role a few weeks really and knew few by name let alone face yet. And whilst I had a wonderful time I couldnt help think that next year will be better once I have established myself in the group of colleagues I have now and learn my place. I am loud and brash and sometimes can be quite drunk so will need to learn how best to mold myself to this new environment of sophisticated and seriously adulting individuals. I have come to realise that most of my work colleagues that are the same age as me are very grown up and have their shit seriously together - Buying houses, travelling and getting married and here I have a fucking FOMO when I can't get my eyeliner "on fleek" in the morning. I think if my new colleagues and job have an any influential change on me in the past few weeks it will have taught me that now it the time to hand back the bottle of Vodka, hang up the heels and become someone a little less full on. The new year will hopefully bring about some changes and see me starting to act my age and not the Gin-Princess I was last weekend. OK well the thought was there at least ...

But as the hours melt away and the big day fast approaches I am getting increasingly more excited about Christmas. And just when I thought I had peeked too early by singing Christmas songs before I turned twenty-five. Suffice to say that even before people started asking the questions of  "Are you ready for it?" and "Have you finished the shopping yet?" both Mr. Warehouse and I were more than ready, even as far to say that for both of us and our extended list of loved ones to buy for, we were done before we went to York in mid-November. I think I like it that way. I can get a feel for what I want to buy people towards the end of summer, and after my birthday is over and done with (not that it should sound like such a chore of course) I start buying the items that have been sat in my online baskets. 

Now I'll admit it that this year, I have spent less but have bought from many, many different retailers I would have never thought about going to before I had Vivienne (my car). I have been to Hobby Craft, The Works, Tesco and Argos all in the hope that what was in my bags from the high street and arriving in the post from Amazon were going to be something they loved. I am glad of the presents I have picked up for friends and family as whilst they are well thought out, creative and something they will enjoy, they are also well priced and if anything a bargain. And all because I plan in advance. 

My best advice to people is that funnily enough, Christmas is on the twenty-fifth of December next year. And it may sound crazy but its the same the following year, and the year after that and the year after that. It shouldn't be a big surprise that as soon as the leaves start turning brown you panic buy socks and Milk Trays in bulk. Plan ahead. Hit the sales in January and pick up the knock off Christmas Deck's, baubles and lights. Find the wrapping paper you loved and the cards that made you chuckle all at rock bottom prices. Become a chipmunk and squirrel stuff away in a Christmas box. Presents, gift wrap, and ornaments. Everything either you or someone else would want that year. Our Harry Potter AKA the cupboard under the stairs is a great place to start and hosting a boot sale to clear out the crap is the best way forward. Out with the old crap and in with the new crap. That's what Mr. Warehouse says. 

But as it gets closer to the end of summer, start thinking about people and their personalities and what they would want but don't they want. I have a spreadsheet and honestly I live my life on it. Colour-coded, key-enabled organised chaos is how I manage everything and most of all Christmas. I keep track of what I have bought people for Christmas the past two years, so as not to buy them the same wonderful gift again and work out financially what I have and what I can get for it. Its all about knowing the value not only of stuff generally and where to buy it cheap, but also that you have to work with what you've got. Everyone would love to give their husband, wife, mom, dad, nan, best friend or dog an eight-bedroom yacht called "Rosie" with enough petrol (or whatever boats drink) in it to head off to the Bahamas for a turkey dinner on the beach. But reality is we all have budgets for a paper boat made out of yesterdays Daily Star. 

Whatever your budgets though and whatever you have brought people this year, as well as whatever you have got for yourself; Just remember where you are. You are protected by four walls and a roof, in a warm home, surrounded by people who love you (probably), eating and drinking and being merry. Some people across the world don't have any of that. Some people that are right in your town, maybe even only a few moments from where you are now that have nothing. Just remember that you are extremely luck and all of us should remember that its about being grateful and thankful for what we all have and not being consumed by the consumerism and gumpf that Christmas pretends to be about. Christmas is family and love and warmth. So spend it with your loved ones and have a very Merry Christmas. 

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

The Infectious Zombie Disease That Became A Reality!

Hello-Hello, 

So I know what you are all thinking. Am I dead? No?! Well Not quite. I certainly was last week though and as Monday's are normally my night to self-consume myself with Blog writing, however last week I was barely in a position to hold a conversation or eat, let alone write something. Now I am proclaiming that it all started I suppose on Saturday night where myself and Mr. Warehouse transformed ourselves from young sweethearts in love to a flesh-eating, disease-ridden Zombie Medical Team. Mr. Warehouse was my lead Consultant Doctor and I was a nurse. Nurse Price - Hmmm?!

It was a Halloween Party and rather unlike myself I had left everything till last minute and subsequently our plans to go as the Mad Hatter, fully complete with real china tea-cup impaled on face, and Mr. Warehouse as the March Hare from Alice in Wonderland (The original, not that crap Tim Burton churned out for his dwindling bank balance). So as the weekend approached faster than I anticipated Mr. Warehouse and I gave up on the hope of a warped Disney fantasy and opted for a fancy-dress shop bought costume. Nevertheless we spent most of the afternoon making fake blood, Halloween inspired cake pops and flinging a red concoction of pantry cupboard ingredient's at each other, making the whole of our little courtyard look like we had actually killed something. Good thing the Dog was still running around. Hanging up our outfits to dry, Mr. Warehouse and I took to the warmth of the inside in order to "glam" up for the party. 

The annual bash is something that is hosted by Mr. Warehouse's Cousin and his wife, a lovely couple who enjoy Halloween as much as Jack and Sally, celebrating it bigger than some people do Christmas. They decorate the whole house; Bathroom, Reception Rooms, Hallways, Landings, Kitchens and Back Yard - All in hauntingly beautiful arrays of cobwebs, black and creeped out dec's. I cannot wait for the moment in my life that it is appropriate enough to have my own Halloween Party, although I am almost certain it will take many years, weeks and pennies to achieve the levels Mr. Warehouse's Cousin and his wife have achieved. 

A successful few hours later, our costumes more intact than last year (Whereby Mr. Warehouse's overalls were quite literally ripped off his back when we dressed as the Big Bad Wolf and Little 'Dead' Riding Hood) we headed off home, and I was impressed that I had gone out of a night time and enjoyed myself at a Party whilst not drinking a single drop of Alcohol. 

But it would appear that the effects of the Zombie Apocalypse did not wear off as fast as I had hoped, for as Monday afternoon approached I started to feel queasy. "Food might help" I thought. So I had my lunch, albeit late. It made the stomach cramps and nausea worse. "A glass of milk might make it better" I continued.
But again, it made everything worse. Dashing to the bathroom in order to vomit I knew I had to go to the doctors. I couldn't believe that yet again had the same symptoms I had a few weeks ago had returned and it would appear I again had a horrendous viral infection. Only this time I needed to be at work. Not just for the fact that it was a new job and I wanted to be there to learn and show I was willing, but also the simple fact they no matter how long you are with the company they do not pay sickness. 

Shockingly poorly I went to the doctors and struggled driving home, vomiting not only in the doctors surgery but also outside the local Pharmacy whilst waiting for my prescription. I knew it was Halloween it was scary how sick I was feeling. Getting home I desperately tried to manager some bolognese but that came up as quick as it went down. Water and juice was unable to stay put also and by the time I had even thought about writing last week I was bent over double throwing up or curled up on Mr. Warehouse's lap, shivering under several blankets and layers of clothes. Having enough, my beautifully caring other-half put me to bed and left the bucket now used for such occasions and a glass of water to sip on, wrapping me up in the duvet and promising to check on me every hour, which he did but if only to make sure I hadn't choked on my own stomach acid. 

Two days later I returned to work, still not feeling great but with limiting options since I wasn't getting paid for the pleasure of sitting at home in my pyjamas under a duvet with a sick bowl to hand. I am feeling much better today and throughout the last couple of days, I am just hoping it doesn't attack me again with another bout of The Zombie Sickness Bug. 

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

Jet Setting And The Joys of Being Twenty-Something!

Maarning One and All,

So after the thrills and spills of New Years and with Christmas seeming like a distant memory I am slowly but surely trying to get back into the swing of things that boring day-to-day life has to bring. 

With the weather cold and thick with the threat of snow and the nights darker than ever it would only be the right time to go holiday shopping. Now I'm not talking heading to Next or New Look in the hope of spotting that teeny, weeny, polka-dot bikini. Oh no! I am talking about booking a glorious sunny holiday with loved ones to somewhere lovely and exotic. 

Now every summer myself and my Tweedles, Miss Tweedle-Dee and Miss Tweedle-Dumb all manage to get our mid-twenties lifestyles together for enough time that we can plan a holiday. Usually it starts off with some emails flitted back and fourth for a few weeks ending in a mass panic about booking holiday from work, booking and buying the actual holiday, not to mention saving up spending money and the like. So after a couple of weeks separately looking for what we all wanted Miss Tweedle-Dee, Miss Tweedle-Dumb and I decided it would be best to sit down al together and come to a conclusion of what we all wanted from this holiday and how much we can all afford. Normally this is all done over rushed emails in between our working days and every time I leave it down to the Tweedles to decide on where we are going, when and how much it will be. I think I am fairly easy to please with a holiday - It just needs to be sunny, by a beach, have some stuff going on in and around the hotel and be somewhere I have never been to before. Extra-Fat, Bonus-Brownie-Points to any activities where I can pretend to live a life I cant when spending my home currency whether that be Horse-back riding on the beach, shopping day trips or being on a boat at some point; I don't mind as long as my ego is happy!

The norm for booking a holiday is fairly relaxing for me and I will be honest I let the other two Tweedles do most of the leg work, leaving me only to pay up when told to. I think I speak for all holiday makers when I say that I was more than disappointed that flights to and from the popular Egyptian beach resort of Sharm el-Sheikh were on hold pending a terrorism alert and other conflicts going on in the areas surround the beaches of Sharm in the late Summer last year. After Vegas I was thoroughly looking forward to having a ride on a camel and eating strange foreign things. 

But instead, this year I was firmly concentrated on finding somewhere equally gorgeous to Sharm el-Sheikh. It needed to be beautifully hot for Miss Tweedle-Dumb and with some sort of local entertainment I can embarrass myself on for Miss Tweedle-Dee. Much to the Tweedles disapproval I was avoiding at all costs places I had visited before and set my sights on somewhere in the Canaries. After visiting there a few years ago on our first girls holiday I was surprised at the heat and wonderful bliss that comes with holidaying away from parents and work. with the girls I had holidayed on the isle of Fuerteventura in the Atlantic Ocean and loved it as much as the next person, although I was inclined to spend all my holidays on the same island. Instead I looked at the other Canary Islands and what they had to offer. 

Soon I had settled on Lanzarote. With flights from beloved Luton less than four hours, iconic black sand beaches, volcanic scenery and weather to fry eggs in, who could complain! And at under £300 per person, it certainly wasn't to be sniffed at. I have already planned to set aside money for horse riding and a camel ride as well as me, Miss Tweedle-Dee and Miss Tweedle-Dumb all boarding a boat at some point as we normally do on holibobs - Its a tradition now! I feel

Self-indulgence is wonderful and I reluctantly look forward to a time when this process will not be as frivolous and fun. Holidays with Miss Tweedle-Dee and Miss Tweedle-Dumb in years to come will probably consist of a triple room in South Wales or Birmingham and with the prospect of no kids or other half to care about for three-nights we will all end up getting wasted and be in bed by 10pm. I wont lie, I am looking forward to it and the excitement of holidays, weddings, babies and more to come is just the tip of the iceberg for some of the events that will be happening this year!

Roll on Summer 2016!

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

A Bibbidi Bobbidi Boo!

Morning there one and all, 

Still the saga continues with my energy company, British Gas (See post - 'An Electrifying Discovery'), but after a very much exhausting but mildly luxurious mini-break and wedding weekend away in Wisbech, it was time to leave behind the peace and tranquillity of the green and rather flat countryside of Cambridgeshire for it was finally time for the Annual Awards Ceremony with work ... And boy was it about to get messy!

Dressed in a long gown, lace gloves and perspex shoes in tacked and with my hair primped and preened within an inch of its life I was finally ready for the ball and ready to make my entrance as Cinderella . But as I approached the venue, noticing poodle skirt after poodle skirt with the odd tuxedo mixed in for good measure too I wondered to myself secretly, as I always do when I make a big effort in my outfit, as to whether this was A - Appropriate and B - If it was wholly relevant to the 1950's theme we had been tasked with. Asking myself these questions my cocky-self butted in and said to stop being ridiculous I looked fabulous and should not care for others opinions. Cinderella was created and born in the 1950's by Walt Disney himself and so I should be thrilled to be one of the most memorable characters from that decade. 

I certainly looked the part and as I sashed past the vintage bright pink cars and Teddy Boys I was greeted by my fellow colleagues, consisting of two Woody Woodpeckers, A Bowling Alley Guy, Cat in the Hat, a Geek, a Prep and some sort of Elvis. Ahh yes we were all ready to get funky and down to some Rat Pack beats, but not before we sat down to our three course meal and sat through the awards ceremony. As I chopped and changed between whether to continue drinking the god awful White wine that was on the table or the nicer bottle of Red I caught the rambling of my Big-Big Boss. 

Scheduler? Significant impact to the company? Help in the start up and running of the business over the past year? Suddenly my name was called out. I had won an award. Me! Abbey Louise in receipt of an acknowledgement for hard work! An award! I was chuffed and as I made my way through the crowded tables; cheers, whoops and holla's all the way and high-fiving my sales rep on the way passed I knew that I had finally found somewhere to belong. A company that treasured its employees and rewarded hard work and growth. I was also awarded with a substantial sum of high street vouchers and look forward to utilising them very, very soon. 

Making my way back to my table, slightly bewildered and a little shocked I had won something after only being with the company just over a year I saw some familiar faces that I would speak to regularly but never saw face to face. They all congratulated me on my award and cooed over my dress, although I think one women got confused as she kept singing "Let it go" to me from Disneys Frozen. Elsa. Cinderella . Well I suppose they both wore a blue dress and were somewhere along the line princesses so I can see the correlation, especially for the drunken sole that she was. 

As the night continued Mr. Warehouse and company joined me on the dance-floor where some serious shapes were being thrown, especially from that nice, award-giving man, my Big-Big Boss. And when it all got a little too hot and steamy, which for some guests it obviously did, there was the patio areas in the surrounding grounds that we were able to smoke and catch our breath. In between mingling, dancing, spilling red wine down everyone I was impressed that there was so many attractive young men in the company, many of whom seemed single and up for more than a mingle. A couple of sweet lads in particular I had a chat with and they had complimented my outfit of choice as I did theirs (a smashingly dashing suit to be visual to you all). Tall, dark and handsome I soon was at ease with the attractive man, although I knew that eyes were burning at me from across the room so tamed my flirting and took it down a notch or two from my usual. 

But that didn't stop a second bachelorette trying his luck. Slightly shorter than I was, probably would have been equal if I had taken off my two-inch jelly shoes, he approached me from across the floor and as we said our initial greetings I revelled in the fact that there was a common ground already in the sense that we were all from the same company just different sections of the UK. I could see now why there was such an appeal at these kinds of events just to cop=off with someone and know that certainly for a year at least you wont have to see them or even speak to them, by which point they might forget what a horrible snorer you are and sleep with you a second time. Nevertheless we chatted for a bit before I went in search for more Red wine, which for those that know me personally, know I most certainly never, ever drink Red but for some odd reason, maybe it was free I don't know, it tasted much better than the White and so down the hatch it went! 

As the night drew to a close and the party goers slipped off to their bedrooms, some revellers still going headed to the second hotel bar but instead I decided to call it a night, put the glass of Merlot down and hit the sack, Mr Warehouse not far behind me. 

Abruptly awoken the next morning by the fucking bin lorries for the wanking rubbish I finally knew a little bit what everyone kept saying about a wine headache! Yes I think I had a slight hangover and as my phone bleeped full from messages from drunken colleague the night before and requests to meet downstairs for breakfast I rolled over and prodded my very, very grumpy boyfriend. With a few grunts and grumbles we finally made it to reception where we found a few stragglers from the night before, but from under my sunglasses I could see they were still just as pissed as I was. Like a bear with a sore head Mr. Warehouse and I made our way to breakfast and after stomaching a few items and a whole lot of juice we awaited our car-sharers to drive us all back home. 

Pulling out the Sofa-bed it didn't take me long to fall asleep and in the comfort of my own home dreamt of the next Annual Awards Ceremony with work in 2016 - Bring. It. On!

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx