The best day of my life: Part II

Afternoon, 

Continued ...

It was already dark when I left my nail appointment. At nearly 7pm I was already an hour late for meeting the florist at the church and I still had to go and grab something for breakfast the following morning, pick up Miss Hackney and get back home to finish off Mr. Warehouse's final wedding gift, which I shan't disclose here as it is now going to be a Christmas present and by the time I got home at 8pm I thought fuck it I can't be arsed to finish it off and if I start it I won't stop until it's finished and I wanted a fairly early night. So when we arrived home back to the house I shared with Mr. Warehouse and our Doggo's the last thing I had in mind was eating or sharing a bottle of champers as Miss Hackney had suggested as she tucked into her pie and chips from the local chippy. It was coming up to nine and I was ready for bed. 

And so for once I declined the Friday night Prosecco and headed to the sheets. Showing Miss Hackney the bathroom and making sure she had everything she needed (although I did end up forgetting to get her a duvet for her night on the sofa) I settled down with the pooches in my marital bed, watched some murderous true-crime YouTube videos, and was asleep by about 10pm. Waking the following morning I couldn't sleep. Unlike normal, I awoke at 6am and couldn't get back to sleep. I was wide awake. I stayed like that for a good couple of hours, maybe drifting in and out of sleep, but mainly awake and thinking about what the day will bring before I am back with my head on a pillow, only next time it will be in a plush central Bedford hotel suite overlooking the River Ouse. But oh there was so much to come before then. Soon after waking, I could hear my phone buzzing. Zzz, Zzzz, Zzzzz. I knew it was Mrs. Tweedle Dumb. 

"You should be asleep," I messaged her, to which her reply was "Well so should you but I can't sleep, and neither can you for the excitement". It was true. More than anything I was just excited. Excited to see my fiance. Excited to see everyone. Excited to finally be able to enjoy all of my hard work with spreadsheets and payments and GoogleDocs from the last three years. I couldn't wait anymore. At 7am I messaged Miss Hackney from upstairs wanting to not disturb her if she was still sleeping. By 8am I could wait no longer and so headed down as quietly as possible. By the time I reached the couch, our little dog had already pounced on my Maid of Honour, probably forcing her from any sleep she was enjoying. 

Within an hour I was in hair and make-up, sat in my bridal pyjamas, having my hair curled and put up as we had planned. I had feebly attempted to eat some spiced Christmas jam on toast and only really managed a few bites, maybe half a slice at most. My mug of coffee too was still half drunk by the time the Make-up Artist arrived too. Soon enough the door was going every couple of minutes. In time, my mother-in-law and her boyfriend turned up with their dog (Frankenstein's sister). Confirming the details of the day she seemed confused and panic set in. 

"So you are to come to the church with our dogs for the family photos, yeah?" I confirmed with the boyfriend one last time "because I have cancelled the other people and companies that we had quotes from because you said several weeks ago you could do it". He nodded and agreed it would be no problem, bidding us farewell as he made himself scarce for a few hours before the ceremony. "OK see you in a few hours with our gorgeous fur babies," I said as I waved him off. The final few hours of Bridal Prep were leisurely paced as I flitted from MUA to the door and back again. Photographers, Videographers, Florist, Visitors and well-wishers. It was a busy morning, but we still had plenty of time to cram in a couple of bottles of Prosecco. 

Soon enough though it was time to get ready. For real this time. Stepping into my dress and with the help of my Mother-In-Law and Miss Hackney as my Maid of Honour, I became a bride. As I dialled Mrs Tweedle Dumb's number in Los Angeles I was nervous for her to get the first look. She was the first person ever to see me in all my get-up. All morning I prayed that she would be my next knock at the door. Alas it was only to be via WhatsApp video call but at least this was better than nothing at all. But then in a flash, the car was outside and it was time to step out into the fresh Autumnal sunshine. Walking out I saw my Dad turn and shed a tear with an accompanying smile. I was pleased that after everything we had been through that he was here, now, to take me to my Groom. As my Maid of Honour, Mother-In-Law and my Dad's Wife left for the church I headed indoors one last time to lock up and say one last see you soon to the dogs. I would only be seeing them again in an hour or so, but it still felt like something I should say goodbye for. Stepping into the wedding car I was excited and couldn't wait for my life to finally begin. I had expected the talk of "Are you sure you want to do this because it really isn't too late you know," to come from my Dad, but there wasn't, probably because he knew as well as I did that this was right for me. 

Standing at the church, blue skies and white fluffy clouds I had everything I could possibly want or need. Everything was just right. Perfect you might even say. As my father took my arm and we listened intently to what the reverend said I was excited to know that in just a few moments I would be seeing my husband. In just a few seconds I would be walking down the aisle, the one thing that has kept me going in my darkest of moments. In just a few minutes I would officially be changing my name and committing myself into marriage for the rest of my days. In just a few hours I would be leaving one family and joining another. 

"Are you ready to do this?" My father turned and asked me as Miss Hackney straightened me out and adjusted my veil over my face. Excitedly I quietly squeaked - Yes!

Walking into the church, organ starting to play my Dad and I walked through the huge archway and to the top of the aisle. As Dad went to step forward, I pulled him sharply back into alignment with me. I wanted to take it all in. I wanted to watch, look out and see all the faces and people who had joined us. I wanted to bask in this glory forever. I had thought of this moment at every difficult turn and twist in my life. Every evening on the bus home from college after I was kicked out of my family home, losing everything; I thought about that moment. Every time I broke down after yet another mean and hurtful phone call from my mother; I thought about that moment. Every night I cried myself to sleep from heartache following the break-down in my relationship with Mr. Workaholic; I thought about that moment. I thought about that moment and how sweet it would taste; How glorious it would feel knowing that all is right with the world. I made it. And there was my Husband, waiting, waiting for me. 

As the sun shone in through the medieval windows stained with biblical scenes and angels, tears began to fall from my cheeks as I became overwhelmed with emotion. It was then that I said out loud; "Ready" Stepping forward as I did so. It was second's really, maybe even milliseconds but it was something I am honestly so SO glad I did. Descending down the aisle I was slow and methodically stepping, as I had pretended to do so as a child with Mrs Tweedle Dumb and Miss Tweedle Dee. Fat tears were now rolling down my face as I desperately tried to compose myself. Soon enough I was there, standing next to my groom and noticing that he too had been and was now in fits of tears, although he will claim it was hayfever. 

The ceremony went beautifully, far more emotional and special and magical and personal than I could have ever hoped for or dreamt in my head. My new husband and I had to pause a few times throughout just to take it all in. This was especially so as we took a moment and stopped singing in our last song/hymn to listen, surrounded by the choir and hearing the backing vocals of our family and friends we simply took in the emotion behind the words we had chosen from Disney's Tangled OST, I See The Light:

And at last I see the light

And it's like the fog has lifted

And at last I see the light

And it's like the sky is new

And it's warm and real and bright

And the world has somehow shifted

All at once everything is different

Now that I see you ... 

Exiting the church as the bells rang out I looked up to the clear daylight. Searching the grounds of the church, however, I soon fixed my eyes on something that was not so perfect. There was my Mother-in-Laws Boyfriend standing a distance away so as to keep separate from the wedding guests due to his health complaints and risk of COVID, but with him was one dog, and it wasn't mine. It was his. He had failed to bring our fur-babies, our own little family, to greet us at the church. I was heartbroken. I felt so sad, knowing that in all of our wedding pictures there would be none of them. When they have both crossed over the rainbow bridge, it will be like they never even existed on our wedding day. Nothing. Admittedly he apologized at the time, but by then the damage was done. I was stood there in my dress and Mr Warehouse in his suit, I could hardly have kicked off. We can never get them back. We can never recreate that moment or what those images would have been. Never. I was, still am, devastated. 

We carried on with the day, enjoying a long and leisurely drive from the church to our reception venue at Stagsden Village hall where we were met by all of our wonderful friends and family. Petting and cuddling the farm animals we had hired as guest entertainment I was satisfied that people would be talking about our wedding for years to come. Goats, bunnies, Chicken's and a Pony, I bet you couldn't find another wedding like mine. Sitting to eat we roared with laughter and sometimes welled up as we listened to the lovely words and cracking jokes in the speeches. But as the night began to darken, and the daylight gave way to the moon I was sad that it was nearly over. Within moments we were cutting the cake and what feels like seconds later I was rick-rolling my Dad during the father-daughter dance (which came after my first dance with my new husband to which I yet again cried mostly throughout it all). 

All in a blink of an eye Mr Warehouse and I had swapped out doing shots of Tequila Rose, Cha-Cha-Sliding on the dancefloor and having sentimental moments outside with the likes of Mr CWG (basically thanking him since he was the whole reason we were all here today) and we were in the back f our white London Taxi Cab waving goodbye to our guests, off to Bedford's Mercure Hotel for our mini-moon and a few nights of wedded bliss before heading back to reality. Well at least until next week when we can submerse ourselves in newly-wedded bliss again as we head off on honeymoon! Egypt here we come!

'Til next time, Love A.Lou x

Remember, if you would like to purchase anything then please feel free to check out my store at: https://www.etsy.com/uk/shop/Wooftys or visit our Instagram @WooftysDogTreats and use "TATOATS21" to get 10% off your first order over £15.00.

The best day of my life: Part I

Good evening, 

Did you miss me? Sorry for not posting last week, unfortunately I had come down with a terrible cold and was feeling super ill. I am almost certain that this time last week I was in bed by the time I am writing this now. 

So I will start from the beginning. The days following my Hen Do / Bachelorette weekend were agony and sore. Full of aches and pains I was still recovering as the sun shone down I arrived for my bridal shower, excited and looking forward to seeing everyone. The day went wonderfully with everyone looking beautiful and enjoying a lovely afternoon of crafts and creative fun with flower arranging and afternoon tea. I was sad that Mrs Tweedle-Dumb couldn't be there and I probably should have bought some more prosecco as it disappeared waaay too quickly (I have no idea as to why?!) but alas we had a lovely time and everyone's arrangements came out looking slightly different from the last but all looking beautiful. I think I may have even convinced some people to join me and my Nanny Pumpkin for what I hope may even be a yearly traditional Christmas wreath making. 

In the final few days before the wedding Mr Warehouse and I felt a wave of calm wash over me, that and maybe the flu-meds were kicking in. I had the perfect run up to our big day as I had hoped. Early in the week me and the now husband watched telly, curled up on the sofa with the dogs, cosy and under the warmth of blankets with an Autumnal candle burning in the background. A scene far from what my father had predicated and pictured following his own wedding. in 2019  But I prided myself on my planning skills and because I had been so organised and prepped, we had time for what was important to us, even if that was EastEnders and some cheeky choccies. 

Wednesday I finished work at midday, heading off for my afternoon errands, although not before I was stopped leaving the office and instead handed a bottle of fizz and a wedding card from the guys and gals in the office. A sweet thank you for inviting them and congratulations on finally getting hitched. It's strange, I sort of always imagined myself leaving one of my other office jobs to go off and get married but no, it was this one. My colleagues were lovely and I was looking forward to seeing them on Saturday night, and for them to probably not have me in their earholes every five-minutes about wedding stuff blah blah blah. 

Pulling up for my eyelash appointment I was surprised when not only did she tell me she didn't have me in for a full set (I had been incorrectly booked in for an infill) but I was also told that they cant d it due to needing a patch test 24-hours beforehand. Great! So after shuffling a few things around I was able to secure an appointment the following day. But oh but the following day was not going to be easy or slow at all. 

Thursday saw us 48-hours out from our wedding day and so we started early. We had a lot to do. First on the agenda was travelling up to Peterborough, approx an hour and a bit journey to drop off all our passport information. We had an 8am appointment so it was an early start, earlier than we normally get up for work. But it had to be done and if we wanted that Honeymoon in the Caribbean then we needed to get them renewed. Short stop off at Momma Warehouse's in the Cambridgeshire countryside to drop off her dress for the wedding and then back to Bedford for Mr Warehouse's barber's appointment, a spot of shopping and some lunch. Picking up the cast iron post box on the way home and swapping cars I headed off for my newly arranged eyelash appointment. Whizzing home afterwards I had just about enough time to pack up the cars ready for setting up the hall the following day before popping across the road to a lady who tidied up my eyebrows. 

At 6pm we arrived at church ready for the rehearsal. I was shattered. Truth be told the eyelash lady said I had fallen asleep during my appointment several times so it looks like I won't be going back there again. I was flustered and flapping. It was now just over a day left and we still hadn't arranged or organised the live feed from the church for my American friends and Mr Warehouse's eldest brother and his family who were still self-isolating due to fucking COVID. Rehearsal over and done with I was excited and a lot clearer and happier with how things were going to roll. 

Waking Friday morning and making the bed, I realised the next time I crept into there I would be spending my last night sleeping as a Miss. We had still so much left to do. Balloons to fill with helium, flowers to pick up for the cake and my god a whole effing hall to decorate. The day was long and after having to cancel my massage appointment and pushing back my nail lady by an hour we were done. Standing outside the hall I was excited and nervous and a little scared all at the same time as I said farewell to my fiance. The last time I would ever call him that for the next time I saw him I would be at the top of our aisle with all of our friends and families around us. Waving out of the window of our cars, we split, driving in separate directions but within a few short hours we would be reunited, this time as Husband and Wife. To be continued ...

'Til next time, Love A.Lou x

Remember, if you would like to purchase anything then please feel free to check out my store at: https://www.etsy.com/uk/shop/Wooftys or visit our Instagram @WooftysDogTreats and use "TATOATS21" to get 10% off your first order over £15.00.

Cluck, Cluck!

Morning Everyone, 

After finishing a busy day at work there wasn't enough time to hang around and chat with colleagues at the end of the week. I was off. I had a Hen weekend to get to. With my bags already packed for night number two in Milton Keynes, complete with toothbrush, Jammies, and my HURR Collective rental, the Ivory SELKIE Puff Ball Dress, I was certainly glad of getting my hair done on my lunch break. Yes a bit bouji, but when I had to get home, changed, make-up done and over to Kempston, all within an hour. Safe to say even with my hair done and outfit ready for the first night out of the weekend I was pushed for time and didn't rock up until gone 6.20pm. What is going on? I have no effing idea. All I know is that it is going to be a weekend of debauchery and naughtiness, and maybe a few willie straws thrown in for good measure!

Friday evening was started with strongly poured drinks, pic's for the gram, and a good catch-up with my old work colleagues. Being handed a huge blow-up doll (with no appendage), a sash, and a veil I was super excited. Taxi booked we soon were taking the party to a posh restaurant within a four-star hotel in Bedford. Pen & Cob, is the Swan Hotel's on-site British Brasserie, offering freshly prepared dishes throughout the day. Serving breakfast, brunch, lunch, and dinner, the selection of seasonal dishes were superb with most of them locally sourced, where possible. 

On their website, they state "We make sure our dishes are sourced from suppliers which have superb reputations for producing the highest quality meats and products. Such as working closely with Stickleback fish suppliers in Welham Green to ensure Pen & Cob has the pick of the market as soon as the boats come in." Soon enough though we headed to a few bars for cocktails and some more chatting shit about life before hitting the dancefloor's to dance the night away. 

As midnight approached a few of the girls left, dropping off as the night went on. By the time I knew it I was stood in The Standard at like 2am and I had a Jagerbomb in my hand. I knew this was wrong. I knew I shouldn't have done it. If truth be told, I felt a little pressured into it as the tubby man in a waistcoat and pocket watch (Yes I know - He claimed he was a "music producer" but seemingly the only musicians he could produce from his Instagram were a bunch of old drunks trying to relive their youth, his words not mine?!). The moment it rolled over my lips and into my mouth I regretted my decision and my lack of firmness in refusing it. 

Within seconds I looked at my old work colleague and I think she knew. I made my excuses that I needed to "make a call" and desperately tried to contain myself as I could feel the German drink slipping further down my body. I knew I only had mere moments before this bad boy was visiting my mouth for the second time. Just as I pushed my way into the ladies' bathroom, some girls congratulated me on my Hen Do but I couldn't reply. My drink had arrived. Again. Stumbling into one of the stalls it came up entirely and instantly I felt better. 

An hour or so later with just the two of us girls still standing and the blow-up man waining we decided to call it a night, although unbeknownst to me we had already made it mostly the whole night as it was 3am and kicking out time for most places. Heading to where Mr. Warehouse normally picks me up, there he was,, my knight in a shining silver car. After dropping my friend off, the future Hubby drove me over to Milton Keynes where I met a sleepy Miss Hackney at the AirBnB we had booked for my Hen weekend. Falling into bed I was shattered and within hours I would be back at it again. 

Saturday was started with Melon and Mango and a freshen up under the waterfall/rain shower. With mostly Mr. Warehouse's family turning up around 1pm we played some games to get to know one another (maybe a little too well) before heading off to our first activity. Arriving at the school setting, I must say it didn't give off immediate hen party vibes. It was still chucking it down with rain as it had been all morning and after being told that it was an adults sports day organized I was concerned as none of us had come dressed for outdoor weather. We all laughed as we joked that we couldn't possibly be doing it out in that weather, that was until we realized that the poor Uni-Student wasn't laughing. He was deadly serious. 

Marching straight up to the reception Miss Hackney nearly unleashed all her Shoreditch-Shit on this bloke, demanding he either found us somewhere inside to do the games or refund us everything. Suddenly there was a dance studio free. We all piled in and just as we did the rain had knocked out the power, leaving us in a darkened room. But this didn't dampen our spirits as we chugged down our mini bottles of rose and donned sweatbands, twerking and limbo-ing our way through the afternoon before heading back to the apartment to get ready for the night-time fun!

Unbeknownst to me, we were due to be doing cocktail making and then a nice meal before heading off to the clubs of MK but after the cocktail making and meal had fallen through as the venue had an outbreak of COVID, Miss Hackney had a job of finding something to take its place. That is when she stumbled upon Bistro Live. With the entire night taken care of and all under one legendary roof, I can see why. After a tasty meal, our night was jam-packed with fun from 7pm all the way through to the early hours, all accompanied by the attentive team looking after our every need, there was no queuing at the bar for drinks and much more time to party! And because it is the world-famous Bistro Live we were even allowed to dance on tables and chairs, grinding and groaning the night away all in the knowledge that the thighs that hurt from the Adult P.E Session earlier were going to be even worse tomorrow morning.

Waking Sunday morning and checking out of the AirBnB was hard. Not because there was no life and we had tonnes of stuff. Not because Miss Hackney was absolutely hanging out her arse. Not because we had to tidy up the place from the night before. But because I knew it was over. That was it. My Hen Do. All done. Finished. Over. No More. I was sad. I think I have Hen-Do-Blues. Is that a thing? Well, at least I can say I had an incredible weekend and all thanks to some amazing friends who pulled through for me when others hadn't. I enjoyed every moment of it and drank so much I am surprised I could remember where I was let alone who I was getting married to. All in all a great weekend with great company. At least I can still say I can hack two nights out on the Trott, and if anything I could have probably even managed a third! Roll on the wedding!

'Til next time, Love A.Lou x

Remember, if you would like to purchase anything then please feel free to check out my store at: https://www.etsy.com/uk/shop/Wooftys or visit our Instagram @WooftysDogTreats and use "TATOATS21" to get 10% off your first order over £15.00.

Hen's, Headaches and Getting Hitched!

Heyyy, 

I. Am. Tired.

After nearly 160 miles, two nights of drinking, and approx twelve hours of sleep the whole weekend I am well and truly knackered.

It was my future Sister-in-laws's Hen do / Bacholerette party this weekend and after traveling to Nottingham for a spa weekend of partying and drinking with some close friends and family. Being the land of Robin Hood I can definitely say that we were less about robbing from the rich and giving to the poor, more like we came rich and left poor ... mainly for the sake of alcohol and spa treatments! I thoroughly enjoyed myself with some incredible company and a good lot of people to while away the weekend away from husbands, kids, and responsibilities, however, if you think that this blog post is going to be spilling all the beans and providing the inside scoop, you will be sadly disappointed. I am afraid a lady never kisses and tells (not that anything like that happened at all I must say) and what happens on Hen Do', Stays on Hen Do's!

I have started the second week of my new job as Operations Coordinator in Milton Keynes at an Air Conditioning, Plumbing, and Heating company and am enjoying it so far, slowly slowly but getting there with the lingo and terminology. But with 8-weeks to go until our wedding things are getting to the point now where bills are going to need paying in the next few weeks by the end of the month and plenty of things that still need doing including tonnes of DIYs and wedding stationery that needs doing. I just hope things stay as they are and we finally make it this time to our special day.

Monday 19 July 2021 in the UK marked the ending of lockdowns and an end for all COVID restrictions including nightclubs reopening, no face masks, and big festivals and events beginning to start. Bozza Jozza's plans for the final unlocking of restrictions in England were pushed back from the 21st of June and maybe rightly so. But can Prime Minister Boris Johnson really go back on his word yet again, U-turning? Now BoJo's lifted all legal restrictions in England but he has urged the public to remain cautious, saying the pandemic is not over.

The BBC outlined today (Monday 16 August 2021) that there have been nearly 6.3 million confirmed cases of coronavirus in the UK with nearly 131,000 people have died from the deadly disease that has ruined and spoilt life for over a year now. Government figures show however that almost 90% of adults in the UK have now had their first dose of a coronavirus vaccine and nearly 77% have had their second.

Public Health England estimates that, up to 6 August, the UK vaccination program had prevented nearly 85,000 deaths and more than 23 million infections. Impressive and certainly the hope and faith we need and less of the doom and gloomy crap the news is mainly made up of. The BBC news article continues that more than 47 million people of all UK adults have had at least one vaccine with everyone over the age of 18 across the UK can now book a vaccine, so hopefully, the uptake continues and we can hear less and less about the stupid idea that you have a microchip implanted in your arm or that it makes you a magnet?! And with the most recent government figures show at least 5,894 people with coronavirus in hospitals in the UK. A week earlier that figure was 5,816. Although numbers climbed in recent weeks, they are far below the peak of nearly 40,000 people back in January. I am desperate to hang onto any piece of positivity as we break the 2-months-to-go mark! 

'Til next time, Love A.Lou x

Remember, if you would like to purchase anything then please feel free to check out my store at: https://www.etsy.com/uk/shop/Wooftys or visit our Instagram @WooftysDogTreats and use "TATOATS21" to get 10% off your first order over £15.00.

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

The Passed and the Present ...

Hey You, 

Hope you are well and that life is treating you a tad better than it has this week. Safe to say I am beginning to think that this time of year is always when something usually goes wrong. Last year it was Mr. Suicide and everything coupled in 'A Week From Satan Himself ... ' and this year it seems that there is something wrong with old people. With a Great Auntie buried this week, my grandfather in hospital, Nanny Tweedle-Dee poorly and Miss Tweedle-Dumb in mourning for a close elderly relatives passing I am beginning to think that I shouldn't be drinking the water around here!

Now I understand that some people find my sense of humour a little dry at times and on the odd occasion darker than most, but I sometimes struggle to explain how I feel or my emotions surrounding death. And god forbid if I was to ever give advice about death or the woes that supposedly go with it. Fact is that luckily, or unluckily, at the ripe old age of twenty-two and ten months I have not had anyone particularly close to me kick the bucket so as to speak. 

I have had a few distant relatives or old family friends funerals that I have had to attend, hell, I have even cried at a few but suffice to say that my grandparents all bar one are all still alive and kicking and I still have most of my family left, or at least the ones that have not disowned me yet. It is always awkward when someone speaks to me about death as from such a young age I have been aware of it and its permanent lifestyle mark it makes. When you are a part of a military family like I have been it is easy to learn that one day, sooner or later, that person that brought you up and gave you all they ever could will die. They won't always be there to catch you and I think that is maybe a thesis I carry to this very day. Watching my father cry a few years ago at a close funeral ripped through me, knowing that anything I say or do just isn't enough to take his pain away. Seeing my father fall apart as he croaked out words of happiness as he was so sorrowful made my own heart physically ache at his mourning. It seems the closer they are to you and the ones you know, the deeper and more stinging the wound. Nothing puts life into perspective more than watching grown men shed a tear for the loss of someone great and that was represented no better place than a funeral I attended this week. And those that know me and regularly read will know that the fact of it being on my mothers side of the family just knots my stomach ever more so. 

My Great-Aunt had always been in the background of our family portrait but as I got older and became more wiser about the dynamics of my family set up I could somewhat understand why. With her own life, family, grandchildren and up until a few years ago her husband life as usual took over for everyone but my Great-Auntie still remained the backbone of my mothers side of the family until her health started to deteriorate a couple of years ago after her husbands passing. Sitting at my desk a few weeks ago I was shocked and stunned to hear that she had left the living world as we knew it but nevertheless knew she would be at peace with her husband and late daughter. Wanting to pay my respects I asked the family if I could come and pay my respects quietly before the funeral as my attendance to such event may not be likened given the guest list which was to include my own god-forsaken mother. I was welcomed with hugs and kisses, handshakes and pats on the back as I arrived at the small church in Luton. Whilst never happy affairs I seemed to lift spirits slightly with my presence and the ability to tell a good few jokes seemed to be warmly received. Spending most of Tuesday night talking with close family members, my youngest uncle mainly, I was told that I would be welcomed on the day of the funeral and totally kept a watch over in case a certain someone decided to swoop in and cause trouble. 

Feeling positive I left to meet Miss Tweedle-Dee and Miss Tweedle-Dumb for some drinks and more talk of Vegas and Reading Festival. To cheer me up after saying goodbye to Auntie Chrissie they presented me with a value range Iron that I am chuffed to bits about and some chocolate to make me smile. Over the moon with my gifts I departed that evening in the knowledge that within the next twenty-four hours I will be within touching distance of the women I should call Mommy. Donning a black ensemble I came into work early to catch up on what had up until that point been a manic few days. Multiple comments were passed in the few hours I was in the office about how good I looked. According to my colleagues a black and a melancholy attitude suit me. Feeling positive about the whole thing initially I set off for the church not knowing really what to expect or anticipate on arrival. As usual though I was late, although I did bear in mind that its a funeral and she isn't actually going anywhere so it would be OK. And it is OK to say this as I know that my dearest Great-Auntie would have find that hilarious. Stumbling into the church I quietly sat at the back, sang to hymns I didn't believe in and wondered why at such a time as a funeral it all seems to be god this and Jesus that. A little selfish I think given the fact that their not the one lying in a beech effect box at the end of the aisle. Nevertheless I went along with it knowing that this is what Auntie would have wanted. As the funeral came to an end I knew the big guns were soon to be raised and I should prepare for a battle against the vehicle that bore me. 

As the coffin was carried out by a mixture of children, grandchildren and nephews I couldn't help the tears rolling down my cheek. A part of me for a few moments had wished that Mr. Cheese could have been there to simply support me but I knew that some day I would have to face things like this alone. Unfortunately no matter how much I wanted Mr. Cheese to hold me, cuddle me and to tell me it was going to be all OK I knew he would be preparing for a holiday with his family I should have been joining him on. Following the coffin out of the church was the family that seemed so distant too me sometimes. My Aunty, Nana and Uncles all passed as did my not-so baby brother, our wailing mother in toe. Thinking I had got away with it I wiped away more hot tears from my cheeks and smiled as I thought of the memories I had with the deceased some of which have inspired me to write now. Only I hadn't got away with it and it had seemed that I had been rumbled. Feeling a hard tap on my shoulder I could see the steadily moving procession had stopped so my mother could face me. Reluctantly turning to face her I stood strong and powerful as she crumbled. 

"Come with us Abbey," She blubbed as she tried to usher me in front of her and to join the queue of mourners. I declined, turning away from her as I had done so many times before. Pulling and grabbing at my arm she tried to pull me to the front of the now growing and line of spectators. Feeling as though time was dragging on I declined a second time as she brokenly croaked how I was family and should join the following. A million thoughts and phrases ran through my head as she tugged at me again. Feeling that I was blushing with embarrassment and anger I turned and barked at her that I was not under her spell any more and that I would pay my respects when I'm ready and come out when I am done. Feeling stronger and prouder of myself than ever before I watched as she was pushed along by the crowds wanting to get out into the happiness of the sunshine. Letting out a sigh of relief I could tell that there was more to come. 

As the funeral, burial and wake continued well into the late evening I kept my distance from my mother for fear of being lured from family and into a blazing row. The stifling heat drew many of us to the bar and to mingle at other tables which was helpful given the company at my initial table was not of profound quality I would wish to indulge. I spent many hours spilling my tales of life since the events surrounding my parents divorce and other such events and was even able to give a few good jokes making the occasion of a funeral a little less morbid. Noticing that my mother was due to leave I threw myself outside into the afternoon sun to speak with Miss Tweedle-Dumb hoping that I would distract Mother enough so that she could leave without approaching me although I knew that phone call or not if she wanted a fight, she wanted a fight. Thankfully she stayed respectful and upon my return the broomstick and it's owner had left. Soon enough it was time for me to leave and with promises of seeing my everyone soon in better circumstances I revelled in the fact that yet again I came off the better person in all of this and all within the knowledge that maybe cracks were beginning to appear in what my mother had told her family. Leaving the church hall I had been to so many times before I felt good about myself, which is unusual, especially after a run in with one half of my gene-pool. 

I couldn't help notice in hindsight people engrossed in deep conversation with close family members of mine whilst gazing at me in wonderment and joy. I later found out that it wasn't just me who was telling people of my pent house apartment in Bedford and my managerial position or my world-wide blog, it was also the family I rarely saw. Singing my praises and constantly telling me I had done well for myself made me feel like despite everything that had happened, this year and beyond, that I was doing alright for myself. As well as being constantly on a proper 'big-up' from my family I was also being poked by familiar faces as to when my wedding day will arise. After telling all prospective enquirers that I have yet to find Mr. Right they assured me that he will be lurking somewhere and that I wont be single before long. Somehow I can't see that either, but going on my first few dates as a single-girl, I'm asking people not to start buying up hats and facinators just yet as this girl has plenty of living left to do. And when the market is as large as is it why settle at twenty-two! 

'Til Next Time, Love A.Lou xx

Let The Dating Game Commence!

Evening everyone, 

Slowly drifting I peeked through my eyelashes into the bright sunshine. Mmm, the heat was wonderful and I had forgotten how I had missed snuggling up after a long, tiring day at work. With a low hum in the background I closed my eyes again as we swayed together, the heat between us making me evermore happier. And whilst it was a comforting bus journey home this evening, cuddled up at the back of the bus, being driven home by the warmth of the engine and hugging onto the inner wheel arches, it was another thing I had tried in order to replace a man in my life. Note to self: Buses whilst are able to get me to work and back are unreliable, unappreciative and most of all I can't hug them without looking like a lunatic. Nevertheless this week has been a success after the feminist movement of last week the 'Vagina Crusade' is still on and the hunt for a mate continues. 

After talking with several gentlemen on a little known dating application called Tinder I was asked out on a date. After speaking for a few days and swapping all social media platforms we agreed to meet for a drink in a local bar. Something casual with not much behind it will be perfect for a first date, nothing to hard or effort educing. A few days later I was on my journey home from work and messaged him about meeting. Cancelled! Apparently work had called him in to do a shift early the next day somewhere in Hertfordshire and so date night was postponed until the following evening. Friday rolled around and not making much effort with the outfit to work I had a funny feeling something would go Pete Tong tonight too. And what an intuition I have. After trying to message my potential date all evening he replied with the lame excuse that his friend had been moved to Singlesville too and needed cheering up. Suggesting a later time to meet was met with no response at all and with twenty minutes to go until we were due to meet I called it off assuming that nothing was going to come to fruition. As it turns out I got blow off for a lads night in drinking and popping moves like they think they're Jason Derulo. Sorry boys but your not. Your just not!

Feeling deflated after being stood-up I needed some comfort and a confidence boost. Since there was no chocolate to be had in my flat other than on a digestive I decided to look elsewhere. Knowing in my heart I shouldn't seek comfort in the shallowness of swiping left or right I ignored all that and did it anyway, continuing to Tinder for the rest of the night, humming and harrahing as to whether or not a first date round a guys 'free house' is such a good idea. I have always said to myself that I will never venture into dangerous waters such as that until at least the third or fourth date. Some of the lads I have spoken to have been dicks and some have seemed quite genuine. I just hope that maybe I can get my head around not looking at everyone of them in comparison to Mr. Cheese. On which note, I had a message from him the other day. Quite unexpected. 

After hearing the sad news on Thursday that an elderly family friend whom I haven't seen in year had passed away I was shocked. Stunned into my office chair. At first I got ready to breath a sigh of relief thinking it was something much less morbid in nature, but as it turned out I was really affected. I had to steal a moment to myself in the kitchen under the pretence of making tea just to let my brain process the fact that not only had someone close to me passed away, but that within the next fortnight perhaps I shall be forced to share the same personal space as the very women I despise - My Mother. Sounds awful but I honestly don't know which one is worse. The family friend was what I referred to as an Auntie in my younger years and whilst part of the family she was a strong women whom held her ground and stood up and by what she believed in, including me. I was only seventeen but she knew that I was telling her the truth when I told her the tale of being thrown out by my mother. Shocked and appalled like most she offered me sympathy and a ear when I needed it most and for that I am grateful. A few days later I received a personal message from Mr. Cheese offering support and a shoulder to cry on. It was sweet what he had said and nice to know that he was thinking about me, but all I really wanted wasn't just a shoulder to cry on. 

I wasn't to be sad for too long as midday on Saturday soon arrived and as the warm summer called my Nan and I outside we sat in a quaint little cafe sipping on tea and coffee chatting about all life's problems although mainly boys and how I should deal with life now as a bachelorette. Much advice was given and it was needed for I had already lined myself up another date with a new man for Sunday afternoon. But before all of that could happen I had an even more important date to keep to. Reading Festival Run-Thru - Mark Two!

Discussions took place between myself and the Tweedles via email about the pro's and con's of having a camp out in Miss Tweedle-Dumb's garden when there was due to be a torrential down pour that evening. My case was a valid one and that no matter what the weather come the Bank Holiday Weekend at the end of August we would have to put up and sleep in a tent for several nights. I feel that whilst my friends would much rather snuggle with the dogs on the sofa, they couldn't deny that as normal, I was right! And setting up this time was not nearly half as bad or strenuous as first thought. The tent was up within half hour and by the time we had pumped up our air-beds and secured the guide-ropes Miss Tweedle-Dumb and I were being egged on by a mischievous Miss Tweedle-Dee to have a dance off on the patio. Suffice to say that after several cocktails and a cider I was very much a drunken mess. Attempts to play swing-ball was next on our list of fun things to do whilst drunk. Between pants and gasps I felt as if I was either in the finals of Wimbledon or doing the voice over for a OTT porno, although by that point in the evening it was most likely to be the latter one. And so the night was rounded off once and for all with being chased by imaginary scary noises whilst trying to Alfresco Pee and having potatoes thrown at our tent by Miss Tweedle-Dumb's sister. 

Bleary eyed we awoke the next morning, my tent pals had slept better than I had but only for fear of being rained on. Nevertheless a morning brew and ashtray were brought to our makeshift bedsides by an attentive Miss Tweedle-Dumb and thus commenced our Sunday. Packing the tent away was not hard either, and within the space of fifteen minutes out pop-up home had been wiped down from the rain drops and packaged away inside its little bag until the next time we need him. Changing and having a quick wash we all headed back to our own homes, but for me it was home to prepare for my first date of the year. And so, strolling down the street I definitely had my swag on. I felt amazing and with my new found favourite band (5SOS) playing in my ears I knew I was shit hot. Or at least I would have liked to think so anyway. As I turned into the street and saw the signed swinging in the cool afternoon air I told myself that I could still turn around and go home if I didn't want too. Grappling with nerves I approached the coffee house. I knew it well. It was the last stop on mine and Mr. Cheese's journey before heading to Darlington over Christmas and more recently the place I had purchased ground coffee for Pappa Cheese's birthday present, much to his delight. Indeed this little coffee shop on the High Street held very fond but bitter memories for me. I wished they could be different but they are not, and that is why I am here. Walking into Caffe Crema to meet a man I barely know. Strutting to the back of the establishment in no less than a pair of heels, pleated PVC skirt and sweatshirt I felt the nerves subside as I greeted my date; The ironically named - Mr. Moustache. 

Mr. Moustache was a tall and stocky blonde with blue eyes, not quite what I expected but then can you ever trust Internet dating? As soon as I walked in I stole his attention from his phone, a luxury Mr. Cheese rarely paid me. As I approached the little table I glanced to where ghosts of days gone by had excitedly chattered amongst wrapped up presents and about the coming days of yule-tide festivities that were to come. Shaking them off I was greeted and then seated. Parched I offered to buy Mr. Moustache another drink, despite seeing that he had only just arrived himself. Declining, I went to the counter to order a coffee frappachino. Starbucks it was not but better than something hot. Seating myself once more, Mr. Moustache commented on how surreal it all was. Was I that fabulous? Is it now an honour to be in my company? Apparently so! Quick someone call the Queen I need to be knighted!

Conversation flowing we questioned each others lives and hobbies. I found out that he works in health care and lives alone too which was a relief as you tend to go a bit nuts when you live alone as a Singleton! We posed questions about our favourite biscuits and what we like to watch on TV. He seemed to be on same shelf as me but I'm not so sure about the same book or page however. Desperately trying not to judge or compare, Mr. Moustache had the long run-your-fingers-through hair I always want. Teeth were fairly good too and his eyes were wide and full of wonder at our conversions. Noticing the sandals I was immediately turned off anything romantic, although oddly in a way the slogan Tee and bright Hawaiian shirt may have made up in part for one of the Big Four being let down. Mr. Moustache was funny and made me laugh with hilarious stories from his travels around the world. He had ventured to Asia on a gap year from life and whilst there had experienced nude bathing with friends and lots of Chinese Mafia, being asked to have his photo taken just because he was a tall white male from the West and even accidentally marrying a Japanese prostitute. And to think that I would never meet my match in terms of being a raconteur! I too pulled out all my best stories - That time Miss Tweedle-Dumb made a Aloe Vera butter angel on the floor of our holiday apartment whilst very drunk from an evening at a Scottish bar in Fuerteventura, Miss Tweedle-Dee and her blister bags as a result of getting badly sun burnt, also in Fuerteventura; And who can forget that ever-lasting tale of Mr. Workaholic and his 'bearded' experience.  

As the afternoon turned into early evening I decided to call it a day and head home - Alone! The exit was odd as we ended up walking the same way and when we did come to the departure I felt an uneasy as Mr. Moustache leaned in for a hug goodbye and maybe something more. Unfortunately it was a first date and I didn't really fancy him that much. I mean he was attractive don't get me wrong, but I was still airing on the side of caution. I wasn't sure about this one yet and didn't want to jump before I knew what into. Mr. Moustache was lovely though and despite us not talking since I feel that as far as first dates go, it went well. With a few more lined up for the coming weeks I am sure we I will have plenty more tales to tell you all, I just need to be sure that I don't fall as hard as I did last time ... 

'Til Next Time, Love A.Lou xx

The Vagina Crusade!

Bloggers Note: I have recently decided to start a thing going whereby if you yourself have a 'Trial or Tribulation' that I can help with then feel free to drop me a free and fully confidential message by popping it on a mini form in the right-hand sidebar or email me at: Abbbey4@gmail.com. Also If you have any ideas on how to make me sound or look more interesting then just do the same! :) xx

Heyy, 

I don't know quite what I expected from life as a newly singleton. Lonely nights in front of the TV. Declining invites to events for fear of loved-up couples making me barff. Rekindling a love affair with my bedsheets, penguin pyjamas and re-run's of Attenborough whilst crying into tissues thinking about the times I used to spend cuddled up to what was after having great sex which is now impossible since I don't have a boyfriend! All things and many more sad traits I expected life in Loosersville to be like. Life has almost been quite the opposite I must say and I can only see it getting better as Summer rolls on. So roll on Thursday this week and pin a notice on your board of Abbey-Awesomeness because I have a date this week! 

Impromptu nights out in rainy beer gardens, tank-top etiquette and waxing were all on my unplanned and spontaneous weekend agenda. It started with Friday night whereby after finishing early from work I decided to hit up the local off-licence for a bottle of rose wine and chocolate with the plan to spend the evening hoping work colleagues would invite me to the pub whilst watching yet another chick-flick only to end Friday night in either tears or women-empowerment. Neither of those happened. Instead after getting home to my flat, ignoring the washing up and cooking dinner I was questioned by my dear old friend Miss Chocolate why I was single. It suddenly dawned on me as I sat watching my social network conversation take a-hold that I hadn't spoken to her in over a month, and in that time things between Mr. Cheese and I had gone from butterflies to breadcrumbs (and not the posh kind you find in Waitrose). I thought that an explanation was due in person and so I donned some mascara and red lippy and headed to a pub down the road for some drinks and a natter. 

Several hours later and in the small hours of Saturday morning I was returning from my unanticipated pub excursion however I failed to get into bed until gone 3am. Why? I was talking to a boy. Yes. A real one. Well I hope anyway. I shall not divulge any more as I don't want to ruin anything before it is even started but he is lovely and cute and sweet and funny and clever and fun and entertaining in every way I could wish for! We have been in contact for a few weeks now but still have yet to meet in person but I am sure that when we do there will be a tale to tell! Waking up Saturday I had high hopes for tackling that monstrosity in the kitchen sink, doing some banking and maybe even the shopping. Unfortunately that was all planned with the idealism that I would not wake at three in the afternoon. Yes, I had indeed slept for nearly twelve-hours. As I peered through bleary eyes I noticed through my notifications that Miss Tweedle-Dee had tried calling. Phoning her back we arranged for a girlie sleepover that evening. Wine, Cake and snack shall all be laid on with the accompaniment of a film to pass the time. However after recent events, Hollywood drama was replaced by the real life drama's of two girls in their early twenties discussing everything from stupid boys to new boys, surrogacy, marriage and even politics at one point! After swigging down a few bottles we decided to head out for a cigarette. 

Entering the blackness of my quiet street in a Bedford suburb we heard nothing but a cat meowing and maybe the distant hum of a car engine. Laughing and giggling about our up coming Summer venture to Reading Festival  2014 we puffed away on menthol's in between getting deep in conversation about who will sleep with who in our luxurious tent. The from out of no where came a blood-curdling noise. Ripping through the night air like a beast. Looking up to the window that occupied the flat beneath mine we both took turns to peer round the wild hedgerow to seek out where the ghastly noise was coming from. Miss Tweedle-Dee looked concerned and asked if maybe the noise was a man nearing the finishing line. Silence was broken as I broke into laughter. I knew that my best friend was into girls, but was it really that long since she knew what a man experiencing orgasm sounded like. Watching her face crack too we laughed uneasily as the groans, grunts and heavy breathing continued. What was that? Was he choking? Dying even? Was my neighbour dying as my best friend and I guffawed about the male climax? No. It was fine we told ourselves, returning to my flat upstairs only to hope that the elderly gentleman had not cum and died within the space of our four-minute cigarette break. Current update is that all is well and good and only just this evening as I returned from a hard day at work I saw him trundle up the stairs with his trusted bottle of White Ace and a beard to match. 

Sunday morning was a welcome surprise when I entered my living room to find Miss Tweedle-Dee already awake and scrolling through her Tumblr, a usual morning ritual for her. After discussing plans for the day we decided to head into the town centre for some procrastination and bargain hunting, but not before wandering round a shit car boot on the way. Same old things sold at boot-sales isn't it; Old baby clothes and dodgy ornaments even your Nan wouldn't tolerate! After some deep and meaningful conversing over breakfast and oddly cake and ice-cream at just gone 11am we took a stroll round some shops and picked up some stuff I was looking for to spruce up my flat. I am thinking shabby chic. I suppose you could call it Sh-Abbey Chic! Sunday afternoon ended with both us girls lounging on the couch watching VegTV (AKA only the kind of TV you watch when your Hungover, Tired or just plain simple) following some serious shopping. Then came a wonderful idea to wax however I declined for fear that my double-chin, whilst not hairy in the slightest, would not only be ripped off by molten lava but that dearest Miss Tweedle-Dee would put me on YouTube for all to see and for entertaining herself greatly. 

Waving goodbye to Miss Tweedle-Dee a few hours later, double-chin still fully intact, I pottered around my flat for what I had left of the weekend, chatting in between to my new found male friend! You see part of me still wonders, and I know its silly, weather I am the problem in all this? Am I the one who actually has something wrong with them? Is that why this is happening? And then I think 'No'! I am a wonderful human being who whilst only being established in 1991 has experienced more than most and has impacted on many peoples lives for the greater good! I make people weep and wheeze with laughter until they can't take no more. I bring a brightness and colourfulness to the people around like a sun to a Winter's day. I hope that one day I can be someones sunshine. There very existence and being. And whilst every day a little voice inside my head reminds me of all that is wrong with my love life, the arrogance of me speaks out louder, telling me of how beautiful I am of a person, my witty banter, my laugh and my personality that shines through, even when my confidence fails. Men of my past, you may have bruised me, but I am coming back bigger and better than before! Female empowerment level: 100!

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx