I Cant Breathe

Hello One and All, 

Week number 12 of lockdown in the UK. I am still furloughed or signed off sick (whichever it may be) and the time off has been helping with my mental well-being after the last few weeks being mentally taxing and exhausting. This last week has been different to the last with projects and things to do running out. 

I am still irritated with all of this Coronavirus Shit there is a reason and a need for it it and to keep the "R" number down and all that jazz, but seriously its getting boring. I just hate queueing. Queuing for this and queueing for that. I am done with it all. Gone are the days when you could just walk into a shop and buy your crap and get out. No. Now I have to stand in the rain for 40-minutes just to try and take back some wallpaper and buy a couple of lampshade which took all of about 5 minutes, if that. I suppose you could say I am at the end of my tether with it. It is all just so pointless. Figures from the BBC today have confirmed that the death toll is now in double figures after significantly dropping to just 55 (Monday 08 June 2020). With more than a half down from last week's 111 deaths from COVID-19 I am pleased and am hoping for this to become a norm. Now I know in comparison to other countries, New Zealand being one of them that has fully opened up the country due to no new cases, but it is still a drop nevertheless and as we have not yet experienced an unsettlingly high spike in deaths or new cases as yet I am hoping it continues so we can soon join New Zealand in getting things back to whatever normal looks like after a global crisis. As far as Boris Johnson and the UK government making a statement as yet or any sort of announcement of further openings, I am anticipating something soon, however I shan't hold my breath, especially considering the situation in hand. 

It has been a fortnight since the name George Floyd was catapulted into the stratosphere and made not only a household name, but one to be remembered and celebrated for all that has been acheieved in the last 14-days. On 25 May 2020, George Floyd, a 46-year-old dad was arrested after Minneapolis police officers responded to a call from a teenage grocery storeworker who alleged that Floyd had used a forged $20 note. 

As the Sun reported, there had been more reason than none to suspect him considering his criminal past and history of armed robbery in a home invasion in Houston in 2007. However life had moved on for Floyd and he had settled down with a partner and young children, who was friendly with locals where he had been working as a security guard at Latin American restaurant Conga Latin Bistro in the city. Unfortunatly the Coronavirus had affected the hospitality industry badly and Minneapolis was no exception and so George Floyd became out of work. George Floyd had been a a regular at Cup Foods. He was a friendly face with a statement from the store owner Mike Abumayyaleh, who wasn't working at the time, told NBC that "Floyd was a regular customer and never caused any trouble". 

The BBC News reported further, stating that approximatly 8.10pm Minneapolis police officers arrived to the grocery store as the young clerk working that night had called it through saying that on receipt of the fupposed forged note the teller had ask Floyd to return the cigarettes he had ust purchased to which the shop worker confirmed to 911 that "he doesn't want to do that" and that the man appeared "drunk" and "not in control of himself" according to a transcript released by authorities. Officers found Floyd in the car park with two others and on approach of the vehicle one of the officers pulled out his gun and ordered Floyd to show his hands. As the officer man-handled him out of the car it was clear that there was a struggle as George actively resisted being handcuffed. However once handcuffed, Floyd appeared to be cooperative until he was ordered into the back seat of the cop car. This is when the struggle broke out. 

Approximately 8.15pm, Floyd had "stiffened up, fell to the ground, and told the officers he was claustrophobic", according to the report from BBC News. Yet more officers were called to the scene and attemted to put Floyd in the police car to no avail. It was during this attempt, at 8.19pm that the officer in question, Officer Chauvin, pulled Floyd away from the passenger side, causing him to fall to the ground where he lay there, face down, still in handcuffs. This is when witnesses started to film something which has been shared the world over and ignited a furious conversation. Floyd, who appeared to be in a distressed state was restrained by officers, while Officer Chauvin placed his left knee between his head and neck. 

Gasping for breath, Floyd cried out "I can't breathe", repeatedly, pleading for his mother and begging "please, please, please". Begging for his life. For eight minutes and 46 seconds, Officer Chauvin kept his knee on Mr Floyd's neck, the prosecutors' report says. These moments, captured on multiple mobile phones and shared widely on social media, would prove to be George Floyd's last. The report from BBC News continued that about six-minutes into that period, Floyd became non-responsive. In videos of the incident, Floyd fell silent as bystanders urged the police to check his pulse. One of the other officers did but couldn't find a pulse, all the while the other officers did not move, including Officer Chauvin. At 8.27pm, Chauvin removed his knee from Floyd's neck, but it appears it was too late as Floyd lay there motionless. Taken to the Hennepin County Medical Center in an ambulance Floyd was pronounced dead about an hour later. A 46-year-old dad leaving behind two children. 

Now I am sure you are wondering, or maybe not, why this gained so much attention; more than most. Because George Floyd was a black man. The officer with his knee on his neck, A white man. Now I am not going to stand here (or write here as the moment suggests) I can't pretend that I understand because I don't understand! Yes I am open and honest enough to admit that in my younger years I made jokes with friends about race and colour that was in poor taste and did not sit well, but that came from a place of uneducated and lack of understanding around the struggles that those with different skin colour than to mine. 

Without me even knowing it I have been the recipiant of white privilege. Never have I ever been stopped and searched. Never had I ever been looked upon as though I am violent or agressive. Never have I ever had my car pulled over because "someone in the area was matching my description". The only time I was ever pulled over was at traffic lights when a police officer pulled up aside my car and asked me to switch on my headlights as they were off and it was dark. Hardly a terrifying experiance you might think, but for me I felt aweful and for a split second, I think I know what George and his brothers and sisters must feel on a sometimes daily basis. 

On the other hand, however, nor I am not saying it wasn't due, stopping and searching a man for a possible crime, especially when he was confirmed by the store assistant, but killing a man with brute force to this level was unnecessary and way over the top in my view. It is safe to say that looking at the statistics produced from the Governments own website confirms that in every 1,000 arrests in the England and Wales (2017-2018 respectively), only ten were white. Black people were three-and-a-half times more likely to get arrested than a white person. Truthful statistic or Media and Governmental Prejudice - You decide ... 

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

Denying The Inevitable

Hello, 

As the evening set in and the night took over the sky and shrouded us in darkness I knew it would soon be time. Last weekend when Mrs Tweedle-Dumb's parents threw a goodbye BBQ in her honor I woke up that morning not wanting to get out of bed and only wanting to curl up under my duvet, pretending as I did on the morning of my grandfather's funeral that this day did not exist. Maybe if I fell back to sleep and pretended that this all wasn't happening today then maybe I could keep the reality at bay. Ahh denial is a wonderful thing. In Great British style the bank holiday weekend was a bit of a washout, blowing away the gazebos and generally wreaking havoc on the garden. Miss Tweedle-Dee, Mrs Tweedle-Dumb and I had decided that it would be best if we spent some more quality time together just the three of us and so following a very much enjoyed sushi date together on bank holiday Monday Miss Tweedle-Dee and I endured our weeks at work and looked forward to getting up early and seeing Mrs Tweedle-Dumb for what would genuinely be the very last time. 

Arriving at a slightly later time than we had planned, me and my Tweedles sat on the front porch of Mr Tweedle-Dumb's parents home in the posh Suburbs of Basingstoke, smoking menthols and sipping on Starbucks in the sunshine. I couldn't think of any better way to start a Sunday, even if it was nearly midday. Thoughts soon turned to what we would be doing in our final few hours together, and it just so happened that we were doing the usual - Shopping excursion to the Anbill (otherwise known locally as the Festival Place Shopping Centre) was our normal go to when visiting our friend in Basingstoke and why should this time be any different. We all made jokes about the fact we could not visit Mrs Tweedle-Dumb in Basingstoke without having a trip to the Anbill. Truth be told I think we all really enjoyed going back to the roots of our friendship and simply shopping till we find a restaurant to drop into. And what made this day better was the fact that in their haste to emigrate, Mr & Mrs Tweedle-Dumb and maybe forgotten a little bit that my birthday was coming up soon, and so today was also when I would get to pick out my birthday present. 

Giddy with excitement at all the possibilities that could be we headed to the Anbill - Shopping, laughing and chatting all the way only stopping stopping for the odd cigarette and eventually ending up outside Wagamama, feasting on steamed buns and gyoza! It was starting to get dusky and I realised that time was slowly passing off by. Sat on a bench, denying the inevitable, I looked at the bestest friends I think I could have ever wished for. The last few months have been difficult to say the least, and yet, as normal, Miss Tweedle-Dee and Mrs Tweedle-Dumb have been through it all with me. They always make me feel better, giggling about our inside jokes no one else got, eating fat and naughty food and indulging in the worst kind of sinful behaviour! Unlike all the other times we kidded ourselves that this would be the last time - This really would be the last time! 

In less than a few days Mrs Tweedle-Dumb would be jetting off to start the adventure of a lifetime with her new husband, settling down on the Sunshine Coast. I still feel ashamed and guilty for selfishly thinking that I wish it was me packing my bags and fucking off, but also partly because I would not have stuck around to see who was left behind or what they were feeling - I would have been long gone. Truth be told, I want her to do the same. Miss Tweedle-Dee and I will be OK back here because we have each other and the best times ever together as a threesome can still continue over Skype or FaceTime. 

Saying goodbye for the last time was probably the most difficult things that I have done in quite some time. I know that Mr & Mrs Tweedle-Dumb will have an amazing time and make an incredible life for themselves and if, for whatever reason, nothing goes to plan and it all doesn't work out Miss Tweedle-Dee and I will be there to catch our best friend, pick her up and dust her off. Hugging it out and seeing your best friends cry their heart out was the worst thing in the entire universe because there is nothing that you or anyone else can do to make it better. Driving away, tears filled my eyes and as one of the first ever albums we obsessed over as a trio started to play through the stereo. And all the way home we played the album "Songs About Jane" by Maroon 5, belting out the hits from our youth and letting the emotions, happy, sad, everything wash over us as we tanked it down the M25. 

Honestly that album. I promise you, if you ever do anything, go and listen to that Album - It'll change your life! Hands down categorically the best album that is for any type of emotion! Break-up? Track 4: She Will Be Loved. Love Dilemma? Track 2: This Love. Guilty? Track 5: Tangled. Falling in Love? Track 8: Sunday Morning. Best friend emigrating? Track 12: Sweetest Goodbye (well if it wasn't about sexing after a break-up) 

I mean yeah sure we are a bit weird in our own special way and mine, Miss Tweedle-Dee & Mrs Tweedle-Dumb's humour is completely our own, but somehow we just get each other. For the simple fact that we could easily sit in silence, not saying a single thing to one another and yet still feel at peace and without judgement. Our years of being each others go-to for any advice, problem, issue or dilemma and sometimes not even having to utter a single word to one another just a look to crack out a smile or even better a laugh. All of it made that moment, the moment that we said goodbye one last time all the more harder to bear. And so ... 

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

Bank Holidays, BBQ's and GoodByes!

Heyy, 

After a few Hiccups along the way, I have reinstating my routine of popping my meds every morning and my mood this past week has improved, if only ever so slightly. I suppose that that is to be expected when your bestest friend in the whole wide world is leaving for America. 

The last blurry few months have been a bit of a whirlwind of life events and I am hoping that it is coming to an end, although in reality I know deep down I am just teetering on the edge of another drop. I feel, more so at the moment with the imminent departure of my best friend, that whilst I have crossed many a Ravine in the last few months emotionally, I am on the knife edge of what could potentially be another fall and just a small gust is all it would take to tip me over the edge. That scares me. I think it is slowly settling in, this weekend especially when Mrs Tweedle-Dumb's parents threw a goodbye BBQ in her honor and in Great British style the bank holiday weekend was a bit of a washout, blowing away the gazebos and generally wreaking havoc on the garden. Laughing along together and giggling about our inside jokes no one else got, I realised that this would be the last time we had together. In less than a few days I would be loosing an incredible friendship with Mrs Tweedle-Dumb and whilst I have some amazing people around me, nothing will ever replace my first ever best friend. I feel ashamed and guilty of my selfish thoughts when I think about Mrs Tweedle-Dumb moving away with her new hubby, partly because I would not have given a flying fuck about who was left behind or what they were feeling - I would have been long gone. And I want her to do the same because Miss Tweedle-Dee and I will be OK back here because the fun that we will all have trying to successfully achieve a (three-way) Skype session or FaceTime. And to think of all the fun Miss Tweedle- Dee and I will have sending parcels to remind Mrs Tweedle-Dumb of home including goodies such as tea and HobNobs. And to think of the absolute excitement in receiving a parcel all the way from Mrs Tweedle-Dumb and her all American home, filled with exotic candy and chocolate, not to mention all of the goods that are way too expensive in the UK! Reasonably price UGGs and other designer goods? Yes please! I'm having palpitations just thinking about all of the spooky decorations and goods she could send me from the home of Halloween! Atop of that the incredible holibobs and excuses to fly out to be reunited. All of this I need to keep in mind when I think about how sad I will be when she has left. 

Speaking of sadness, following my most recent appointment with the doctor, they had advised to continue also with counselling sessions and therapy as it had temporarily been put on hold as I had finished my previous sessions and now awaiting a appointment where I can be seen through the NHS however after being told it can be anywhere between eighteen months and two years, I am starting to consider if I need to go Privately to seek help. Certainly not the three-month time slot I was given when I first started. Whilst I appreciate that the NHS in England is definitely under a huge strain at the moment and that the doctors and nurses are doing their jobs to the best of their ability despite the cuts loss of funding they have experienced in the industry over the year's, I still think that it is fundamentally wrong and critically important to increase the waiting times to a better standard. Not that I am, but should I become suicidal at any point I would still potentially be waiting for treatment. The thing is, if I broke my leg on the other hand they would try to operate as soon as immediately possible, having me in and out of that specific treatment quickly and efficiently so as to move on to the next patient. And yet for mental health it appears as though there is a lack of understanding in terms of how life threatening and dangerous it is for patients to wait to seek treatment. As with a broken leg mental health can become infected very quickly and easily causing more and more damage, and yet despite all of this the waiting list in the UK, at least for England anyway, is minimum of eighteen months and two years. 

To think where I will be in eighteen months and two years is a scary thought. We should be very comfy in our new home and Mrs Tweedle-Dumb and her Hubby would have visited at least once or twice to our new abode. But with the house slowly coming to an end (I hope) we finally had the Mortgage company confirm his findings from the survey visit last week and has now handed over our damned Mortgage Offer. I am upbeat and positive but I am slowly getting itchy and frustrated with not being able to move in yet. Still no move date as yet but following the receipt of our Mortgage Offer we should hear back this week with a date for our completion and exchange. Yet with Mr and Mrs Tweedle-Dumb's big move to America approaching fast, I am ever more doubtful that Mr. Warehouse and I will be in our new home by the time they leave. Whilst I am looking forward to sending my best friend off to a whole new world and life in sunny L.A, I just sometimes feel sad about it all. 

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

Don't Count Days, Make Days Count!

Hello, 

Following my slip up last week forgetting to take my happy pills, I am pleased to say that after reinstating my routine of popping my meds every morning life this last week has felt a little brighter. Previously I had tried to not give in to the need for medication in order to treat my depression but the truth is that I still need them, even if I have been feeling a little better. After speaking with the doctor last week however, she confirmed that it would not be wise to stop medication and advised that in most circumstances it take a minimum of six-months to kick in but can take much longer. The doctor had advised to continue also with counselling sessions and therapy as it had temporarily been put on hold as I had finished my previous sessions and now awaiting a appointment where I can be seen through the NHS however after being told it can be anywhere between three months up to eighteen months I am starting to consider if I need to go Privately to seek help. 

With the house slowly progressing and the solicitors final searches now complete we are just awaiting the surveyor from the Mortgage company to confirm his findings and hand over our damned Mortgage Offer. I am still feeling positive but I am frustrated with not hitting our move in date of beginning of August. There is no move date as yet but following the survey to make sure that the house is worth the amount of money we are borrowing against it happening last week, hopefully we should hear back in the next couple of days with a date for our completion and exchange. I am almost certain after talking to different people at work and through other groups of friends that the process will speed along. 

After months of being in a bit of a whirlwind of emotions and life events, I am hoping that it is coming to an end, although I know deep down I am just teetering on the edge of another drop. I feel, more so at the moment, that whilst I have crossed many a Ravine in the last few months emotionally, I am on the knife edge of what could potentially be another fall and just a small gust is all it would take to tip me over the edge. That scares me. With Mr and Mrs Tweedle-Dee's big move to America approaching fast, I am ever more doubtful that Mr. Warehouse and I will be in our new home by the time they leave. Whilst I am looking forward to sending my best friend off to a whole new world and life in sunny L.A, I just sometimes feel sad about it all. 

I think it finally hit me (yet again) this weekend whilst celebrating Mr Warehouse's birthday on Saturday when we spent it in Southend-on-Sea together with Miss Tweedle-Dee and Mrs Tweedle-Dumb living our best lives in the arcades, indulging in a good-old British favourite, fish and chips by the seafront and watching the annual charity Parade and Carnival. Taking photos dancing and laughing along together I realised that this would probably be the last time we had together. In less than a few weeks I would be loosing an incredible friendship with Mrs Tweedle-Dumb and whilst I have some amazing people around me, nothing will ever replace my first ever best friend. I feel ashamed and guilty of my selfish thoughts when I think about Mrs Tweedle-Dumb moving away with her new hubby, partly because I would not have given a flying fuck about who was left behind or what they were feeling - I would have been long gone. And I want her to do the same because Miss Tweedle-Dee and I will be OK back here because we know that despite how hard it will be, our friendship will be OK. 

As much as it makes me feel absolutely devastated and heartbroken to think of my life here in England without her, I need to remember that it is not all bad. I will miss Mrs Tweedle-Dumb however I know the fun that we will all have trying to successfully achieve a (three-way) Skype session or FaceTime . Think of all the fun Miss Tweedle- Dumb and I will have sending parcels to remind Mrs Tweedle-Dumb of home including goodies such as tea and HobNobs. And to think of the absolute excitement in receiving a parcel all the way from Mrs Tweedle-Dumb and her all American home, filled with exotic candy and chocolate, not to mention all of the goods that are way too expensive in the UK! Reasonably price UGGs and other designer goods? Yes please! I'm having palpitations just thinking about all of the spooky decorations and goods she could send me from the home of Halloween! Atop of that the incredible holibobs and excuses to fly out to be reunited. All of this I need to keep in mind when I think about how sad I will be when she has left. I am sure that I will be Alright as long as I carry a parachute when I brave to walk along the edge ...  

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

Forgetting and Falling!

Evening All, 

With the last few weeks and maybe a month or so looking and feeling brighter, I feel as though I have been lured into a false sense of security with my medication. Today and even maybe over the weekend where I stayed with Miss Tweedle-Dee whilst she house / puppy sat for her brother, I haven't been feeling sadder than usual and in a generally low mood. Several times today during what was a trying day at work (probably made worse by my lack of concentration and focus), I had noticed that I was on the brink of tears and to think that I had only missed two days worth of tablets. I could definitely tell that my focus and concentration had shifted at my desk not to anything in particular but just simply off the task in hand. I know I need to block everything out as best I can and try harder with what matters. Previously I had tried to muddle through the cloudiness, not to not succumbing to the need for medication in order to treat my mental health issues but truth be told is that I still need them as much today as I did weeks ago. 

This evening I also had a doctor's appointment in order to discuss my ongoing medication and going forward with my diagnosis. Whilst the medicine I am on made me feel queasy and nauseous in the beginning, that has now subsided and I am now left feeling quite positive and happy in myself and my life generally. Well that was until I forgot to take my meds yesterday and today. I didn't plan to it was just a simple fact of forgetting to take them and being outside of a normal routine. 

I spoke with the doctor and she confirmed that it would not be wise to stop medication and advised that in most circumstances medication is taken for a minimum of six-months, however with everything still quite unstable in my life in terms of my housing situation as well as my issues with family members, by the time the six-month anniversary comes around in October I probably will not be cured. I know that this is something I need to continue in order to build up it's effect, regardless of how I feel much better. I know that coupled with counselling and therapy I will get better it will just maybe take a little bit longer. Speaking of which, the doctor had advised to continue also with counselling sessions and therapy as it had temporarily been put on hold as I had finished my previous sessions and now awaiting a appointment where I can be seen through the NHS. 

After months of being in a bit of a whirlwind of emotions and life events, I am hoping that it is coming to an end, although I know deep down it is not. With Mr and Mrs Tweedle-Dee's big move to America coming soon in the first week of September and hopefully our house move before then I can only imagine that things will probably get worse not better. I know that this is a happy time where we should be excited about finally getting a home of our own and looking forward to putting our own stamp on the place. With the house seemingly moving along nicely and with the solicitors now finishing up their searches and the surveyor from the Mortgage Lender going in today,, I am feeling more positive than ever. There is no move date as yet so don't grab your red cups and vodka for the house party just yet. Following the survey on the house today to make sure that the house is worth the amount of money we are borrowing against it, hopefully we should hear back in the next couple of days with our mortgage offer and fingers crossed a date for our completion and exchange. I am almost certain after talking to different people at work and through other groups of friends that the process will speed along and hopefully still be set to move in before Mr and Mrs Tweedle-Dee depart. 

Whilst I am looking forward to sending my best friend off to a whole new world and life in sunny L.A, but sometimes I just feel sad about it all. I think it finally hit me (again) this weekend that I be loosing an incredible friendship with Mrs Tweedle-Dumb and whilst I have some amazing people around me, in particular Miss Tweedle-Dee, Miss Hackney and Miss SugarCoat nothing will ever replace my first ever best friend. I feel ashamed and selfish when I think about Mrs Tweedle-Dumb moving away with her new hubby, partly because I know the fun that we will all have trying to Skype and FaceTime each other (and not to forget the incredible holibobs), but more so because I would not have given a flying fuck about who was left behind or what they were feeling - I would have been long gone! And I want her to do the same because we will be OK back here because sitting on the reclining sofa across from Miss Tweedle-Dee she and I both knew how hard it might be but that despite it all our friendship would be OK. She knows better than anyone I think that sometimes its not even saying anything at all its just sitting and being there to be extra company other than your own thoughts. Sometimes that is just enough. 

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

Friends Are Medicine for the Soul!

Hello everyone, 

Following last weeks rather abrupt and a matter of fact way of saying that I am now accepted that maybe medication for my depression is just what I need right now, I am glad to say that I have probably had one of the best weeks so far in my treatment. The funny thing really is that nothing major has really happened to improved my mood apart from my medication. With this in mind, I have questioned as to whether I am suffering a placebo effect from just simply popping some pills. 

Opening last week's blog may have been quite blunt and to the point, but I must stress that I do not take decisions like these lightly and I have tried to muddle through for the weeks of cloudiness have now turned into months. I have tried not to not succumb to the need for medication in order to treat my mental health issues but truth be told is that I needed a fairly fast result in improving my mood and therefore my performance, both at and away from my desk. I know I need therapy and counselling, but I also need to block everything out as best i can and focus on my job as this is what matters and what holds the key to my future. This time the stakes are higher. There is so much more to lose. My job. My lifestyle. Even my dream home are all on the line. I cannot mess this up. Whilst the medication I am on make me feel quite queasy and nauseous most of the time, I just need to take the edge off and make everything a little less sharper. so I can concentrate more and focus.

With the doctor practically signing me away with them so easily last week or so, all with not so much as a confirmation of my mental state, I am glad to be feeling a little bit more back to normal. This is not to say that I can stop taking them as the effects are something that are to be built up overtime and whilst for the super long term I hope not to be on them I know I need them right now just to simply get by and block everything else out so I can focus on what I need to. Counselling has been getting better and a lengthy conversation about how I feel and how I have become to feel this way ensued this week with some ideas about how I can tackle or deal with the issues that I have at present. 

I know people are probably silently judging me or maybe they already have questioned how I can be so happy and jolly when I have depression, however I would first ask them to never judge a book by its cover as you never know what someone is going through or how deep their problems lie. Whilst most of the people around me have been wonderfully supportive I feel like somehow breaking your leg and clearly having it in plaster makes it easier for people to talk about a illness or being sick, but with disorders such as anxiety, depression and other mentally debilitating conditions it is not so easy. 

I learnt this weekend that I have some amazing people around me, in particular Miss Tweedle-Dee. Sitting in her garden, hot as hell and struggling with the ridiculous thirty-something degree heat wave we in the UK have been getting I realised I had someone very special to me. She in particular know that sometimes its not even saying anything at all its just sitting and being there to be extra company other than your own thoughts. And sometimes that is just enough. That is all you need. Someone so gentle as to pat me on the leg with a sympathetic look that tells me she knows exactly what I am going through and that it really will be OK in the end. Someone to give me a big cuddle and make everything not seem so awful. She is the best! 

Combined with the firecracker that is Miss Tweedle-Dumb I think we have an unstoppable friendship that has lasted years and will carry on through the decades and even across the pond. Obviously my heart will break when Miss and Mr Tweedle-Dumb leave for America but I know they will be alright and we can always visit, eat Twinkies (God I hate Twinkies), go shopping at Target and walk along the beaches of LA. And everything will be OK because it always is when you have friends like them. 

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

Viva Las Vegas!

Evening All, 

So here I am sat back in my somewhat cosy little flat on my comfy if a little worn couch writing to you once more. Last time we spoke I was discussing all the things in which I had got up to on my holiday so far. And in between stuffing my face with dinner at The Bellagio and almost being unable to walk due to sore feet from all the walking I had done I was happy to have experienced such a place as Las Vegas. Many people I have spoken to, both before going and since being back have said that it is on their bucket list of places and things and stuff to do, and with all fairness I can't say I disagree. 

Going with my best friends on a short haul holiday to budget-budget land where real life human poo's hide on the apartment stairs not belonging to anyone and getting drunk in a Scottish bar belting out Whitney Houston (True story circa Fuerteventura holiday in 2012 - My first ever with the Tweedles) are memoirs of holidays gone by in which I will cherish. However when a long haul flight is on the cards I think maybe best if I go it alone next time. Jet-lag I have now found has a very adverse effect on the relationship between friends, bringing the majority out with a mild case of the grumps and excessive tiredness being the route cause of most arguments. I have found that the best way to deal with these irritable itches is to just ignore, accept and walk away. Unfortunately no cream has been manufactured or found for treatment of friends with Jet-lag however fun days out, food and cigarettes seem to subdue those feelings of niggly-ness. 

Suffice to say though that whilst Miss Tweedle-Dee and Miss Tweedle-Dumb were not the greatest of delights to be around twenty-four-seven (not to mention myself also ... probably) I really enjoyed the good times we did end up sharing. Like my bath I squeezed into with Miss Tweedle-Dumb only so Miss Tweedle-Dee could watch and look down on us in shame as we splashed around like Shamu at Seaworld. I also thoroughly enjoyed pretending to fall into the Grand Canyon, even if my BFF's did not find said event funny. All in all we had a good time and something to remember into our old age. Coming home though from thine bright lanterns of Las Vegas has also been very much an eye opener too. I have learnt many a thing whilst being away and through some conversations and acts I now have the knowledge to make my life a little better than before. 

Returning to work though this morning was blissful. Now you see I am one of these Work-obsessed types that enjoys all manners of my work from the Tea round to paper pushing, running errands, sorting out the post and helping reschedule works (which is actually my job as it goes). Oh as I sat in my desk at 08:54am this morning I revealed in the fact that I had missed it so much and secretly promised to my desk and chair I shall not leave them for so long next time, despite it being less than an hour before I was browsing the Internet on my phone for my next adventure; Cambodia, Bali, Vietnam, Thailand, India, China, Africa?! Where would my World Wide Web connection take me. Well not very far as I had nearly a hundred emails to catch up on but nevertheless I am looking to my next holiday soon and hopefully somewhere more exotic and further afield!

And although I am now back home in Blighty, as drizzly and as cold and as miserable as I left it I am all the better for being home on solid ground. If you would like to see all the wonderful fun things I got up to on my holiday to Sunny Las Vegas then you can check out my photo's from my trip on my Facebook profile - - - Here!

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

An All American Adventure!

Howdy Ya'll, 

OK so maybe not my normal introduction but I am feeling so spiffingly Stateside I might have to run down to Budgens and buy me some Reeses Peanut Butter Cups and have myself a Party in the USA! Yep that's right, today the ball was set in motion and the count down can now begin officially to my once in a lifetime opportunity trip with Miss Tweedle-Dee and Miss Tweedle-Dumb to fabulous Las Vegas! But this weekend wasn't all about stars and stripes, oh no, I had something bigger than Kim Kardashian's arse to contend with this weekend for it was time that said Tweedles met my thing-that's-not-a-thing ... Mr. Warehouse!

The subject came up in conversation after trying in vain all of last weekend to speak with Miss Tweedle-Dumb on the phone. After discussing a recent planned Mini-break to Berlin to visit kitsch German Christmas Markets with her boyfriend and with my envy growing at how I do not have access to such a luxury as the single life permits Bachelors to a lonely life of  misery whereby trips alone are frowned upon even by hotels - See any hotel ruling about single occupancy! Frowned upon I say! Nevertheless conversation soon lead to Mr. Warehouse and oddly I came across all coy. Now I like a good air of mystery about myself which I know for a fact I do not have as I am so god damn open about everything (I mean come on I have been spilling my life out to you every week for the last year) but strangely I quite liked Mr. Warehouse being my naughty, sordid little work-related secret. But you know since were fucking I may as well introduce him to the two people in my life that are most important to me. Ma Mama et Papa, Miss Tweedle-Dee and Miss Tweedle-Dumb!
"So. When are we going to meet him?" I was bluntly asked as I evasively avoided the questions about whether or not I was satisfied and if this satisfaction met or exceeded what I had from Mr. Cheese (Because lets be honest I don't think it would fall much beneath it?). I gave a vague idea as to sometime, maybe, possibly, if-everybody-wants-to meeting up for drinks over the weekend. With my best friend appeased and after touching on some scary gossip we ended our call. A date had been set. A time had been allocated. Four days, nineteen hours to go in counting!

Choosing a classy cocktail bar in the middle of town I thought I had picked well until that is it Saturday arrived and with it the rain. With Miss Tweedle-Dee feeling not up to it much and myself very much under the weather indeed I reluctantly but gladly changed the venue to my cosy apartment where we would sip on Rose and home-made cocktails, maybe even a cheeky Hot Chocolate with all the trimmings whilst watching the fireworks across the rooftops of Bedford from my huge skylight. Mr. Warehouse standing behind me holding my waist tightly as my best friends looked on in wonder if this was the one I had been waiting for. This however was as far from reality I think you probably could have got. I don't think even I could have predicted how entertaining and loose the evening would become and not a cocktail pineapple stick in sight!

With my girls slumped into my beloved orange couch, Miss Tweedle-Dee looking into flights to Las Vegas and Miss Tweedle-Dumb sorting out the equally important catering for the evening I suddenly got very, very nervous. Pacing the lounge I made it seem like I was nesting but I think my friends could tell I was anxious about both the arrival of Domino's and Mr. Warehouse. A few moments passed and in between British Airways hold music and discussions about meatballs (non-sexual I might add) I had a phone call. Unknown number it could only mean one thing. Pizza was here! But then I had another call - Mr. Warehouse! He was also here and as I skipped down the stairs after my Tweedles my excitement grew. Halting abruptly at the bottom of the staircase I was thrust a fist full of notes and pushed out to the poor delivery boy. 

As I opened my front door I noticed not only the bearer of feast for the evening but also a cool cucumber leaning against the Victorian brickwork of my flat's exterior. Like something straight out of 1955 dressed in denim jeans, hair a mess and a leather-esk jacket on I half imagined myself as Sandy from Grease, complete with Frenchy and Rizzo by my side. Noticing the 'Good-boy-jumper' he always wore when trying to impress me I remembered that I had guests and that since Mr. Warehouse was not my boyfriend I should not pounce on him, ravishing his lips like a horny school girl. Instead after helping Miss Tweedle-Dee for her newly acquired car keys (She recently passed her driving test last week - Well done!) I introduced him to the family. Noticing that both parties were nervous of the other ones company I proceeded to get everyone indoors and warmed up. Winter was setting in and I wasn't about to spend my Saturday Night outside when there was steaming hot takeaway on my porch table! 

With no care for dinner tables or cutlery we all dug into slices and took to establishing small talk before the conversation dried up. In a panic with what we should do or talk about Miss Tweedle-Dumb came up with a good idea of playing Cards Against Humanity to help break the ice a little. Now I don't know whether my friends were just being nice to him or if they genuinely found his answers regarding dead parents and pixalated bukkake funny but one thing is for sure and that is Mr. Warehouse has both a sickeningly good sense of humour but also a limited knowledge of all things pornographic. And so the evening ensued with a game, or five, of Cards Against Humanity whereby in-between searches on Urban Dictionary and even more glasses of wine we all ended up getting more and more comfortable with each other. And with strict instructions not to kiss me, fondle me, woo me or indeed grope me, Mr. Warehouse was doing very well considering I was now, for some odd reason, dressed in my Snow White costume (Minus the wig but with the addition of eight-inch stripper heels). I recall it was as a prize for the winner of Cards Against Humanity the person would be awarded the prize of making me do anything I asked of them. I suppose looking back on it Miss Tweedle-Dumb could have always thought outside the box with something a little more extravagantly X-rated! 

With the night slowly subduing, all four of us retired to my bedroom for a bit of a calm-down. As my friends continued in their laughter and giggles, going through weird dreams I used to have and old diary entries from a angst-ridden teenage moi, I saw in their eyes something different. Something I had never seen in them before around someone I was currently seeing. They were relaxed. At ease in Mr. Warehouse's company they thought nothing of raiding my sex-draw like crazed bears (On the hunt for what can only be described as 'My Purple Dinosaur') and stomping around my flat with the Snow White wig on like a dodgy Cher lookalike. Never before had I ever seen either of my Tweedles, My very best friends in the whole entire universe, act this way around a boy they had just met that was boning their BFF. I asked Miss Tweedle-Dumb why this was later on in the evening after Mr. Warehouse had left, enquiring as to if she liked him or not. 
"He is not a snob" Miss Tweedle-Dumb started with, adding that he "is not like all the other pompous rich arseholes you dated in the past. This one is different. He is common, and I like that".

Finally snuggled up in bed, the faint snores from Miss Tweedle-Dee in the other room as I spooned Miss Tweedle-Dumb, I thought about the evening that had just deceased. A few stolen kisses in the kitchen and when the Tweedle's were not paying attention were now not enough. I needed more. But as I reflect now on my weekend as it happened I know now what I was missing. Affection. The simplicity of having someone that wants to peck and smooch and kiss and snuggle and cuddle and nuzzle and shower you with love every waking moment until you are back in their arms asleep on their chest. I had missed that. I knew with Mr. Cheese that it was missing and for some strange reason I put up with it for so long, pretending to myself that it was OK and I would just learn to live with it. And yet I forgot how blissful it is to have it - Even if it does make you sick! 

What won't make me sick though is the amount of American food I will be consuming in Las Vegas and from now until the moment I step off that plane in the middle of the Nevada desert I shall be dreaming about eating all manner of wondrously lavish concoctions; Pancakes and Bacon, Open-All-Hours Starbucks, Captain Crunch, Donuts, Burgers, Fries and all the peanut butter flavoured shit you can think of. Book me Harley Street, I'm gonna need  gastric band when I come back!

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx