Maarning One and All,
So after the thrills and spills of New Years and with Christmas seeming like a distant memory I am slowly but surely trying to get back into the swing of things that boring day-to-day life has to bring.
With the weather cold and thick with the threat of snow and the nights darker than ever it would only be the right time to go holiday shopping. Now I'm not talking heading to Next or New Look in the hope of spotting that teeny, weeny, polka-dot bikini. Oh no! I am talking about booking a glorious sunny holiday with loved ones to somewhere lovely and exotic.
Now every summer myself and my Tweedles, Miss Tweedle-Dee and Miss Tweedle-Dumb all manage to get our mid-twenties lifestyles together for enough time that we can plan a holiday. Usually it starts off with some emails flitted back and fourth for a few weeks ending in a mass panic about booking holiday from work, booking and buying the actual holiday, not to mention saving up spending money and the like. So after a couple of weeks separately looking for what we all wanted Miss Tweedle-Dee, Miss Tweedle-Dumb and I decided it would be best to sit down al together and come to a conclusion of what we all wanted from this holiday and how much we can all afford. Normally this is all done over rushed emails in between our working days and every time I leave it down to the Tweedles to decide on where we are going, when and how much it will be. I think I am fairly easy to please with a holiday - It just needs to be sunny, by a beach, have some stuff going on in and around the hotel and be somewhere I have never been to before. Extra-Fat, Bonus-Brownie-Points to any activities where I can pretend to live a life I cant when spending my home currency whether that be Horse-back riding on the beach, shopping day trips or being on a boat at some point; I don't mind as long as my ego is happy!
The norm for booking a holiday is fairly relaxing for me and I will be honest I let the other two Tweedles do most of the leg work, leaving me only to pay up when told to. I think I speak for all holiday makers when I say that I was more than disappointed that flights to and from the popular Egyptian beach resort of Sharm el-Sheikh were on hold pending a terrorism alert and other conflicts going on in the areas surround the beaches of Sharm in the late Summer last year. After Vegas I was thoroughly looking forward to having a ride on a camel and eating strange foreign things.
But instead, this year I was firmly concentrated on finding somewhere equally gorgeous to Sharm el-Sheikh. It needed to be beautifully hot for Miss Tweedle-Dumb and with some sort of local entertainment I can embarrass myself on for Miss Tweedle-Dee. Much to the Tweedles disapproval I was avoiding at all costs places I had visited before and set my sights on somewhere in the Canaries. After visiting there a few years ago on our first girls holiday I was surprised at the heat and wonderful bliss that comes with holidaying away from parents and work. with the girls I had holidayed on the isle of Fuerteventura in the Atlantic Ocean and loved it as much as the next person, although I was inclined to spend all my holidays on the same island. Instead I looked at the other Canary Islands and what they had to offer.
Soon I had settled on Lanzarote. With flights from beloved Luton less than four hours, iconic black sand beaches, volcanic scenery and weather to fry eggs in, who could complain! And at under £300 per person, it certainly wasn't to be sniffed at. I have already planned to set aside money for horse riding and a camel ride as well as me, Miss Tweedle-Dee and Miss Tweedle-Dumb all boarding a boat at some point as we normally do on holibobs - Its a tradition now! I feel
Self-indulgence is wonderful and I reluctantly look forward to a time when this process will not be as frivolous and fun. Holidays with Miss Tweedle-Dee and Miss Tweedle-Dumb in years to come will probably consist of a triple room in South Wales or Birmingham and with the prospect of no kids or other half to care about for three-nights we will all end up getting wasted and be in bed by 10pm. I wont lie, I am looking forward to it and the excitement of holidays, weddings, babies and more to come is just the tip of the iceberg for some of the events that will be happening this year!
Roll on Summer 2016!
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Showing posts with label Bliss. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Bliss. Show all posts
Monday, 11 January 2016
Monday, 3 November 2014
Fright Night!
Bonjour!
So this week in Blighty it was Halloween - That magical time of year where, as a women, you can dress like a slut and get away with it. But horror struck much before all hallows eve for me as a shock email sent me spinning into somewhere very, very dark! Completely unprepared I was, just packing up my desk on a Thursday evening ready for another shift at my second job when something pinged in my inbox. Subject line being 'My dearest friend' and from the wonderful Miss Tweedle-Dumb and Miss Tweedle-Dee I opened it quickly, already anxious to make my connection. Reading my mouth gaped open, shivers down my spine and a chill coming over me I felt the full force of the unprepared tidal wave hit me. Mr. Cheese was home!
Adrenaline gushing I snatched my bag and left the office already dialling the Tweedle's numbers to discuss this further. Reading the email back in my head, over and over and over again. "Do not call him! Do not message him! Do not contact him!" were the grave words of warning from my closest of friends. I knew I shouldn't and in my heart I knew I wouldn't do any of those things but a part of me was knocked me over when I heard the news. Question is, how did this happen? Mr. Cheese wasn't meant to be back for at least another six weeks. Why was he home so soon? Did he hate it? Does he have Ebola? Is his family OK, are they hurt? All these pondering's whirling through my brain rushing in every direction. I couldn't make sense of it all and as I reached the bus stop I struggled to see clearly and thought I may faint. What am I going to do? I am completely unprepared for this! Am I over Mr. Cheese?! I should be, but am I? What happens if he calls me? What happens if he has changed his mind about us like I so wish he had before and wants to give us another go, because obviously lets face it I am incredible? What will I do!?
As the caller answered I spoke in hurried tones as I was abruptly told to calm the fuck down, relax and forget about it. As far as I was concerned Mr. Cheese was still on his Gaaap Yaaar to Ghana having pictures with lesbian-esk Germans. It didn't matter whether he was five-thousand miles away or five-miles away; If he wanted me and really cared about me he would have shown it by now. Besides didn't I have so many other better things in life to focus on that silly boys with heads!? Yes. Las Vegas was nearly to be paid for (Well the flights at least), I was doing well at both of my jobs and I had a good thing going with my social-life balancing act. Panic subsiding but not fully aborted I let Miss Tweedle-Dumb and Miss Tweedle-Dee get back to work. Scatting in the numbers across my keypad I called someone for the very first time. Answering the phone I was taken aback with the girlish, childlike voice. Confirming who it was I blurted it out.
"He's Back!" I spilled, continuing without as little as a breath into the blathering's in my head. I was soon halted in my tracks but an unfamiliar voice with a familiar caller ID. In agreement with my best friends I knew that Mr. Warehouse was right too about what I should do, or shouldn't do as the case may be. Suffice to say the evening ended better than it had began and after work I consoled myself in the best way a human can be consoled with a little TLC. Well that and a Peanut Butter KitKat Chunky!
And so as the weekend finally arrived and Halloween morning I woke bright-eyed and bushy-tailed I crowned my head with cat ears and painted on my nose. Today was Friday. Today was Friday the 31st October. Which only meant one thing! Dress down Friday was going fancy dress; Halloween Style! Strutting my style I hailed a bus into work with some odd looks. Arriving into work I was met with a few gasps and giggles along with a multitude of comments about pussy. I even scared one workman coming into the office out of his skin. Haha, obviously not a cat person! Unfortunately though I had forgotten both my tail and whiskers and so wasn't wholly Kitty! I did however have that Friday Feline! (Is it bad how I just laughed at my own joke!)
And so as the moon rose on Friday out came the infamous fancy dress box and I transformed into my second outfit of the evening - A Fallen Angel! Messy back-combed hair, dark lipstick and a studded dog collar I felt about fifteen again and despite resembling something like my mother I knew I was way hotter! Necking a few odd tasting cocktails and surrounded by a dead 1920's flapper girl, the zombie cheerleaders and a couple of werewolves I looked around the country pub. It was ironically dead and after taking one look around me my date and I decided to ditch this joint. So when no one was looking we snuck away into the fresh Autumnal air. Dancing all the way home with what appeared to be a very tired Mr. Warehouse chasing after me I conquered a roundabout, played hide-and-go-peek in a few bushes and even fell through the front door trying to let myself in. Suffice to say that I was a little bit drunk and that work the following day would not be welcome. Saturday sauntered by at a leisurely pace and by the sun set on what seemed to be a wonderfully sunny day I dove into my treasure chest again in search of a fairytale I had longed to be for a while. Snow White! As the partying began with work colleagues and friends I felt every bit the princess I was dressed as, but a little someone was about to show me just how much of a princess I was to them!
And so I divulge to you all a little secret I have kept. A secret that even innocent Snow White herself would have struggled to keep. Something that will probably come as no shock to those that know me. Words are failing me right now to be sweet and fluffy about this so I shall just come out and say it: Mr. Warehouse and I have slept together!
Not once or twice whilst on a drunken fumble. A few times. Nine times last weekend alone. This weekend we lost count and we weren't even in each others company that long?! Throughout the past week I don't think there is a subject of the sexual language we have not scoped. There have been toys and showers, dressing up and getting down, not to mention the multitude of positions we have got through in the very short amount of time. Hell I can't even remember the last time I had so much fun in the bedroom it physically wore me out to the point of being sore! I mean I know I was settling when with Mr. Cheese but now I know just how much I was selling myself out by! I mean good lord of the heavens above me (which actually is not true since God, Jesus Christ our Saviour and all manor of other religious celebrities do not exist - Science out-ways religion. Fact). What was I thinking even considering being with Mr. Cheese. For nearly a whole year I put up with the constant mind-games and torturous train journeys back home from London just wondering why I felt like such shit when I should have been so blissfully happy even a man with a chainsaw couldn't make me sad.
Lying there Sunday morning cradled like I was supposed to be I felt at ease. Peaceful and happier than I had been in months I started to wonder why I had been fighting this for so long. Mr. Warehouse definitely wasn't the most attractive man I have ever dated. He wasn't the most intelligent nor was he the most financially endowed. But what he lacked in simple material un-necessaries he more than made up for with wit, humour, fun, tickles, cuddles and all-round freshness which up until a few weeks ago I had lacked ever since Mr. Workaholic left. I never thought that I would find someone who would cherish me in such a way again, prioritise me above everything else and make me feel as if I was worth it. Simple things like making a cup of coffee for me and little pecks on the cheek reminded me over the course of the weekends we have spent in each others company that maybe if I just allowed myself to be happy again that it might just happen. Sex should be fun and at twenty-three that's just what it is. Fun. Not regimented. Not after four episodes of David Attenborough and a Chiswick Ice-cream. Just Fun. Tickles, that turn into kisses, that turn in to fumbles that eventually turn into happy and contented sighs as we lay spooning, in which I have missed this past year ... Alot!
Now don't get me wrong, Mr. Cheese was great and my time spent with him was absolutely blisteringly and blindingly brilliant at times with some memories I shall hold dear to me forever. But it is time to move on. And move on I shall. Move onto Mr. Warehouse? Who knows but one thing is for sure and that is I am happy when I have him around ...
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Monday, 27 October 2014
The Number Nine!
Well Hello Everybody,
I hope you have all been well. I have not unfortunately and as explained last week I have been struck down by what seemed to be a bit of a cold. Nevertheless on with the show ...
Slipping on my heeled boots and cramming my daisy print jumper for later into my Ted Baker handbag I hurriedly whizzed our the door. Eight or nine? I couldn't remember but either was I was buzzing, if slightly tired from the night before and my now subsiding cold. Fearing being late for my date I wondered how long it had actually been since our first date. Waiting in the designated spot I had done more than two-months prior I awaited my Date's arrival, soon enough though he was there. As Mr. ToyBoy and I embraced conversation immediately turned to his hangover and the fact that the night began as an 'only one drink' affair. I struggled to sympathise but found myself being cast back to a last weekend in all its messiness.
Walking along the packed out, cobbled streets of Bedford Town centre on what was a very busy Saturday afternoon I felt as if I was waiting desperately for something good to come up in conversation. "I don't remember it being this dry the first time round?" I thought to myself for the second time so far that day. However entering the West London inspired Coffee House I revelled in the fact that we would now have each others sole attention. Seating at the same table we had first encountered each other at nearly nine weeks ago I looked at an attractive face I knew would just be another one to add to the hall of infamy. Tall, dark and handsome Mr. ToyBoy encompassed all the things I looked for in a potential boyfriend - Nice set of teeth. Good shoes. Hair I can run my fingers through and maybe grab a little tuft once in a while and a beautiful set of deep brown eyes that I just want to fall into. Unfortunately conversation ebbed to a point in which he ended up checking the football scores and I wondered as to when I can let this one go. I had already been with someone that was obsessed with sports, I didn't need another.
Staring out at Mr. ToyBoy over my iced Vanilla Chai milkshake (It was sooo good) I wondered how big his dick was. I know alright, I'm a shallow, terrible person but once you have encountered something as unreliable as public transport then you will know where I am coming from. I understand that size doesn't matter and that sex is only a small part of a relationship but to me it is more than that. It has to be fun and whimsical and entertaining. For too long I have had to suffer and it's about time I got what I wanted! Needless to say as I smiled cheekily at the bubbles in my milkshake as my date twittered on about Game of Thrones my mind wandered to fantasies including classical music blaring from speakers as I reached my first orgasm. Images of him throwing me over coffee tables, my bare arse being splintered as he held me in place, taking me whilst I screamed out in a pleasure infused scream. After controlling myself and bringing my smirk back around to a more serious, grown up conversation about the Illuminati of which I still don't fully follow, understand or even to be quite frank care about, I realised that this was not going to be something I could fully invest in any way. Mr. ToyBoy, whilst older in appearance and as adorably fucking hot as he is, unfortunately won't be the one to take off my garter! At least I doubt it anyway - I mean lets not rule it out!
A combination of being too young, still in college with prospects of university as well as completely unable to be financially savvy brought me to the conclusion that this would probably never work out how I would like it. Yes he probably had a big willy and yes he was probably (And even if he wasn't I would make him) good in bed, but I need more than that? Don't I? Ascetically I could not fault the lad, I had palpation's just looking at him, but would he make me feel like a Queen, I doubted it. Uhh! But he was such a good kisser as well! As I asked the Barista for a duplicate order I cast my mind back to long, soft make-out sessions, gently nibbling each others lips with our tongues exploring the unknown under a stormy August afternoon sun. I was getting moist at the thought of it. But alas, it was never meant to be. As we parted and went our separate ways I knew we would still keep in contact. Friends maybe. Just missing the benefits part! Maybe we will pick it up sometime, but then again maybe not. But rest assured I wont be lonely for long. Somehow, leaving dearest Mr. ToyBoy at the bus stop to be a bus-wanker home, I knew that I wouldn't be too saddened for long. Hey, there is plenty more fish in the sea right? But maybe I need to stop looking in the sea and start looking a little closer to home ...
You see, as I am sure you are well aware there has been an increasing romance and somewhat tension struggle that is between myself and a fellow work colleague, Mr. Warehouse but I have started to allow history repeat itself and at present I am now in the elastic band state of mind - Constantly being stretched mentally between wanting to be in Mr. Warehouse's company all the time and also wanting to be single and having the freedom to do as I please when I please it and with who I please (Or more-so how they please me but that is by the by). Pinging between the two has been somewhat exhausting not to mention being ill also. Its complicated I know, but I almost feel as if I haven't moved very far from this time last year when I was constantly battling my head and my heart around the whole Mr. Cheese saga. And I haven't exactly made things easy for myself this week either.
These feelings however and in particular the bond I have with Mr. Warehouse is very, very different indeed to what I had and probably still have with Mr. Cheese. Up on my pedestal I sit, looking down I realise that over the past few weekends I have spent with Mr. Warehouse, I have had more laughs and giggles and simply childish fun with him than I have ever had with anyone since Mr. Workaholic. Playful tickles, cuddles and stolen moments all add up and are slowly contributing to the way I feel overall about him. I never saw his flaws and I am slowly getting my head around the things that I originally could not deal with. The fact I didn't and still to a certain extent at times don't find him attractive in the conventional sense is starting to become less of an issue. He likes me for me. Not who I want to be nor who I will become but everything I am right here and now. He doesn't like some of the things I do and say sometimes but that the same with everyone.
The thing is that Mr. Warehouse is very much like my father and as a result, in fact as far as scientific and psychological research goes (That is my Psychology and Science A-Levels speaking!), women find men resembling and embodying qualities and aesthetics of their fathers, attractive and appealing. But its more that all those things. He is the one person I can just be ridiculous with, the one person I can laugh and joke about with and the one person that will still find me attractive despite my messy morning hair, panda eyes and pale-sickly-flu-face. Scary thing is though is that there are two words that are coming up more and more often. The. One.
Could it be? Maybe? I don't know? It scares the fuck out of me to think that it might be and that this might be it, my husband for ever and ever 'until death do us part' and all that malarkey but I know deep down that I am not completely intolerant to the idea. Mr. Warehouse has the most wonderfully loud, colourful and extravagant family I can ever think I have met and one that I wouldn't wholly disapprove of entering but those two little words are a big deal, especially at just twenty-three. But after a discussion with my Father yesterday over what was an orgasmic Sunday Roast Dinner I discovered that he was only a year older than I am now when he married my mother. And it got me really thinking. What would happen if I just let go of being cautious and scared of loosing everything. What happens if I just forget all the hurt and those stupid guys in the past that quite frankly will never in the rest of this earth's life cycle meet someone as amazing, funny, brilliant, witty and spectacularly incredible as me. What happens if maybe I gave it a chance to grow?
Spookier things have happened. And with Halloween almost upon us I can only dream of what hellish and gorey scenes will poison my memory next week as I take to my fancy dress box and don a cute yet slutty outfit in preparation for the best time of year - Halloween!
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
I hope you have all been well. I have not unfortunately and as explained last week I have been struck down by what seemed to be a bit of a cold. Nevertheless on with the show ...
Slipping on my heeled boots and cramming my daisy print jumper for later into my Ted Baker handbag I hurriedly whizzed our the door. Eight or nine? I couldn't remember but either was I was buzzing, if slightly tired from the night before and my now subsiding cold. Fearing being late for my date I wondered how long it had actually been since our first date. Waiting in the designated spot I had done more than two-months prior I awaited my Date's arrival, soon enough though he was there. As Mr. ToyBoy and I embraced conversation immediately turned to his hangover and the fact that the night began as an 'only one drink' affair. I struggled to sympathise but found myself being cast back to a last weekend in all its messiness.
Walking along the packed out, cobbled streets of Bedford Town centre on what was a very busy Saturday afternoon I felt as if I was waiting desperately for something good to come up in conversation. "I don't remember it being this dry the first time round?" I thought to myself for the second time so far that day. However entering the West London inspired Coffee House I revelled in the fact that we would now have each others sole attention. Seating at the same table we had first encountered each other at nearly nine weeks ago I looked at an attractive face I knew would just be another one to add to the hall of infamy. Tall, dark and handsome Mr. ToyBoy encompassed all the things I looked for in a potential boyfriend - Nice set of teeth. Good shoes. Hair I can run my fingers through and maybe grab a little tuft once in a while and a beautiful set of deep brown eyes that I just want to fall into. Unfortunately conversation ebbed to a point in which he ended up checking the football scores and I wondered as to when I can let this one go. I had already been with someone that was obsessed with sports, I didn't need another.
Staring out at Mr. ToyBoy over my iced Vanilla Chai milkshake (It was sooo good) I wondered how big his dick was. I know alright, I'm a shallow, terrible person but once you have encountered something as unreliable as public transport then you will know where I am coming from. I understand that size doesn't matter and that sex is only a small part of a relationship but to me it is more than that. It has to be fun and whimsical and entertaining. For too long I have had to suffer and it's about time I got what I wanted! Needless to say as I smiled cheekily at the bubbles in my milkshake as my date twittered on about Game of Thrones my mind wandered to fantasies including classical music blaring from speakers as I reached my first orgasm. Images of him throwing me over coffee tables, my bare arse being splintered as he held me in place, taking me whilst I screamed out in a pleasure infused scream. After controlling myself and bringing my smirk back around to a more serious, grown up conversation about the Illuminati of which I still don't fully follow, understand or even to be quite frank care about, I realised that this was not going to be something I could fully invest in any way. Mr. ToyBoy, whilst older in appearance and as adorably fucking hot as he is, unfortunately won't be the one to take off my garter! At least I doubt it anyway - I mean lets not rule it out!
A combination of being too young, still in college with prospects of university as well as completely unable to be financially savvy brought me to the conclusion that this would probably never work out how I would like it. Yes he probably had a big willy and yes he was probably (And even if he wasn't I would make him) good in bed, but I need more than that? Don't I? Ascetically I could not fault the lad, I had palpation's just looking at him, but would he make me feel like a Queen, I doubted it. Uhh! But he was such a good kisser as well! As I asked the Barista for a duplicate order I cast my mind back to long, soft make-out sessions, gently nibbling each others lips with our tongues exploring the unknown under a stormy August afternoon sun. I was getting moist at the thought of it. But alas, it was never meant to be. As we parted and went our separate ways I knew we would still keep in contact. Friends maybe. Just missing the benefits part! Maybe we will pick it up sometime, but then again maybe not. But rest assured I wont be lonely for long. Somehow, leaving dearest Mr. ToyBoy at the bus stop to be a bus-wanker home, I knew that I wouldn't be too saddened for long. Hey, there is plenty more fish in the sea right? But maybe I need to stop looking in the sea and start looking a little closer to home ...
You see, as I am sure you are well aware there has been an increasing romance and somewhat tension struggle that is between myself and a fellow work colleague, Mr. Warehouse but I have started to allow history repeat itself and at present I am now in the elastic band state of mind - Constantly being stretched mentally between wanting to be in Mr. Warehouse's company all the time and also wanting to be single and having the freedom to do as I please when I please it and with who I please (Or more-so how they please me but that is by the by). Pinging between the two has been somewhat exhausting not to mention being ill also. Its complicated I know, but I almost feel as if I haven't moved very far from this time last year when I was constantly battling my head and my heart around the whole Mr. Cheese saga. And I haven't exactly made things easy for myself this week either.
These feelings however and in particular the bond I have with Mr. Warehouse is very, very different indeed to what I had and probably still have with Mr. Cheese. Up on my pedestal I sit, looking down I realise that over the past few weekends I have spent with Mr. Warehouse, I have had more laughs and giggles and simply childish fun with him than I have ever had with anyone since Mr. Workaholic. Playful tickles, cuddles and stolen moments all add up and are slowly contributing to the way I feel overall about him. I never saw his flaws and I am slowly getting my head around the things that I originally could not deal with. The fact I didn't and still to a certain extent at times don't find him attractive in the conventional sense is starting to become less of an issue. He likes me for me. Not who I want to be nor who I will become but everything I am right here and now. He doesn't like some of the things I do and say sometimes but that the same with everyone.
The thing is that Mr. Warehouse is very much like my father and as a result, in fact as far as scientific and psychological research goes (That is my Psychology and Science A-Levels speaking!), women find men resembling and embodying qualities and aesthetics of their fathers, attractive and appealing. But its more that all those things. He is the one person I can just be ridiculous with, the one person I can laugh and joke about with and the one person that will still find me attractive despite my messy morning hair, panda eyes and pale-sickly-flu-face. Scary thing is though is that there are two words that are coming up more and more often. The. One.
Could it be? Maybe? I don't know? It scares the fuck out of me to think that it might be and that this might be it, my husband for ever and ever 'until death do us part' and all that malarkey but I know deep down that I am not completely intolerant to the idea. Mr. Warehouse has the most wonderfully loud, colourful and extravagant family I can ever think I have met and one that I wouldn't wholly disapprove of entering but those two little words are a big deal, especially at just twenty-three. But after a discussion with my Father yesterday over what was an orgasmic Sunday Roast Dinner I discovered that he was only a year older than I am now when he married my mother. And it got me really thinking. What would happen if I just let go of being cautious and scared of loosing everything. What happens if I just forget all the hurt and those stupid guys in the past that quite frankly will never in the rest of this earth's life cycle meet someone as amazing, funny, brilliant, witty and spectacularly incredible as me. What happens if maybe I gave it a chance to grow?
Spookier things have happened. And with Halloween almost upon us I can only dream of what hellish and gorey scenes will poison my memory next week as I take to my fancy dress box and don a cute yet slutty outfit in preparation for the best time of year - Halloween!
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Monday, 1 September 2014
Age Is But A Number ...
Evening Everyone,
So I hope you have all had a good week. I know I certainly have, well at least the weekend anyhow. After finally being reunited with my office and working all week at my desk through the mountainous region of papers and fresh leads I eventually made it to the weekend. With nothing much planned other than catching up on sleep, watching trash TV, and my last supper with Mr. Cheese before he ventures into Africa. Oh yeah, and a little thing called a first date!
So I met Mr. ToyBoy on a dating website called Plenty Of Fish several weeks ago and have been chatting ever since. We swapped numbers a few weeks ago before I went to Reading Festival and arranged for our First Date once I was back. So Saturday soon rolled round and I was shit hot as I walked out into the cool and still undecided English weather. Making my way into town I didn't feel nervous at all and was at ease with yet again another First Date that could go hideously wrong. "Can you even top a date with a clown and someone who is possibly still married to a Thai prostitute?" I thought to myself as I bumbled along the bus route. Arriving at the specified destination I waited patiently. At twenty-minutes too early I was beginning to get anxious. Would he even arrive? Has he already arrived, took one look and legged it? Will he look like him? Was it really a good idea to wear a faux leather shirt to a First Date? Nerves getting the better of me I messaged him, letting him know I had arrived. Seconds later I heard a ping.
"I thought we were meeting at half-one? :) xxx" The message read. Checking my calender I felt like the biggest penis in the universe. Making up some excuse and face-palming myself I wandered into the town centre for some window-retail therapy to compose myself, laughing all the way. "How stupid of yourself. Gosh Abbey you are such a tool sometimes!" I silently scolded as I looked at Blanket Capes of the new Autumn/Winter 2014 collections in the high street stores. Returning to the meeting spot I anticipated the arrival of my date. At just twenty I was sceptical on his idea of what this encounter may lead to and at nearly three-years his senior (God I am so old) I worried about the compatibility. As his waltzed round the corner I swooned as his arms pulled me into his tall frame. A quick cuddle was quickly followed by a brisk walk in hunt of the coffee shop I had already picked out on my walk to work the morning before. Conversation was electric right from the get go and he was more attractive than he was on his dating profiles or his social media pages. A good and proper TDH - Tall, Dark and Handsome.
Seating ourselves in the middle of the coffee house we sipped on hot chocolates topped with marshmallows and cream. I couldn't help but notice flecks of amber in his already deep brown eyes. "Best put on my water-wings I might fall in" I chuckled to myself. Giddy with excitement we chatted away about all manner of things from usual things like films and music to festivals and holidays. No subject I think was left untouched as we skipped from tale to tale involving everyone from family members and friends to the latest headlines. Before we knew it I felt as though I had known Mr. ToyBoy for years and with my initial concerns that my young date was not what I was looking for in this whole world of dating I soon noticed that I was having more laughs with him than I think I had in a long, long time. He was young and fresh and new and exciting. Something my life had been lacking for a few months now. Parts of my date intrigued me. Like why would he want to go on a date with me first of all? Although I may party like I was born in 1994 sometimes I am still a respectable twenty-something with a fast approaching birthday which will then leave myself and my date exactly three years, eleven months and several days difference in age. The fact that in conversation Mr. ToyBoy explained that I was only a few months younger than one of his sisters made me question why I had even said yes. But then I realised that there was a massive grin splitting my face in two and I was having the time of my life. Ahh yes, that's why!
As the Date continued I thought that it might be a good idea to take a walk along the river and since Mr. ToyBoy had not really been to Bedford before I thought I would highlight the good bits of the City. Walking along the edge of the river bank we stopped at the foot of a familiar bridge. Pushing aside memoirs of Mr. Cheese and butterflies I was ushered to take the first steps onto it. Almost as a right of passage I did so knowing that barely twelve months ago I was doing the same thing with a different face. Upon reaching the other side we continued our conversations, well, that was until we saw the cutest little ball of fur bundling along the gravel path winding round the river. Simultaneously we whispered about how sweet it looked and our fury at not having a puppy like that. I turned and looked at my date as he did to me. A mutual love for dogs! Bliss. As we unintentionally followed the canine and its owners we kept brushing hands. As wonderful as it was I wondered about when the first move would be made if ever. Just then as we overtook the fluff-pup and after giving it a little pat on its soft head, Mr. ToyBoy gently and sweetly took ahold of my hand. Heart skipping slightly I felt my face crack once more. Trying to hide my excitement, head-thoughts turned to Mr. Cheese and how much effort and courage it took for me to build up and ask him to hold my had as we waltzed the hot streets of Kensington and Chelsea back in the summer of last year.
Settling down on a bench I could tell what was coming next. Nervousness racked his Rugby-playing body as he obviously pondered on how to approach my lips. Secretly knowing what my Date was planning I pouted and made my face look as cute as I could. More chatter took over though and before long we were deep in conversation about my inability as a graduated Media Studies student to have gone through my course not watching classics like Lord of The Rings and Disney's Frozen. I think I may have even had a solo performance of Let It Go?! Laughing along he asked if I was cold. I said yes. Without another word I was forced into a cuddle. Snuggling into his chest I mentioned about my furnace-like heat that I seemed to give off. Mr. ToyBoy agreed and followed up with a comment that made me think that maybe age didn't matter so much.
"I wish I had met you sooner Abbey. You make me feel really at ease and have made getting better easier." (He was poorly with a case of probable man-flu earlier in the week) Mr. ToyBoy said in a deep whisper. Turning my head up to face him I saw his brown eyes gaze into mine. As the curtains fell over our peepers and our heads turned I knew it wouldn't be long before I got to know just how mature he was. Locking lips I could feel the delightfully light but intense pressure on the nape of my neck as we kissed passionately in the increasingly chillier weather. Gently teasing each other we got into a rhythm and continued for what was only mere seconds but in which I wished could never end. Breaking from the lustful make-out sesh I returned my head to Mr. ToyBoy's shoulder and looked out to the still water of the river. I smiled at the tactical positioning of where we had chose to indulge in our first kiss. On the left was the wrong bridge. On the right was the right bridge. Somehow I felt at ease with my decision to move on from Monsieur Cheese. I was happy and smiling and potentially had someone here with me holding me in his arms that wanted me. Just as I took reflection on how at ease I was and to the last person I shared with part of the world with I felt a little peck on my hairline. Sweet as it was I think I knew then that I really liked my Date.
After getting caught in a rain storm and nearly catching Hypothermia we called it a day and headed back to town so we could make our own ways home. Unfortunately due to the rain (and not the fact that we were stopping every few steps to have a cheeky kiss in said rain) Mr. ToyBoy had missed his connection home. So before calling a cab we headed into a Caffe to get warm and dry as well as indulge in a little sweetness in the form of two more hot chocolates and a white-chocolate Blondie to share. "He can share this Blondie any day!" I pondered arrogantly to myself as I took a lady-like gulp from my creamy concoction. Sharing out the treats of yet more marshmallows, crumbly chocolate and nutty brownies conversation ebbed. I didn't really know what to say, although I knew the Date itself would have to end at some point. Rising from the table we stepped into the fresh outside and dialled for a driver. As we said our goodbyes we both agreed on having a wonderful afternoon in each other's company. Another smooch before I dragged myself away, struggling not to skip all the way home.
Mr. ToyBoy. The one to bring about the question of age-difference. The one who makes me feel like I am fifteen again. The one who makes me quander what I am really looking for in 2014. In all honesty I don't know. But I know one thing for certain and that is that if the first Date is anything to go by, the second Date will be just as electric. Date number two - Bring it on Mr. ToyBoy!
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
So I hope you have all had a good week. I know I certainly have, well at least the weekend anyhow. After finally being reunited with my office and working all week at my desk through the mountainous region of papers and fresh leads I eventually made it to the weekend. With nothing much planned other than catching up on sleep, watching trash TV, and my last supper with Mr. Cheese before he ventures into Africa. Oh yeah, and a little thing called a first date!
So I met Mr. ToyBoy on a dating website called Plenty Of Fish several weeks ago and have been chatting ever since. We swapped numbers a few weeks ago before I went to Reading Festival and arranged for our First Date once I was back. So Saturday soon rolled round and I was shit hot as I walked out into the cool and still undecided English weather. Making my way into town I didn't feel nervous at all and was at ease with yet again another First Date that could go hideously wrong. "Can you even top a date with a clown and someone who is possibly still married to a Thai prostitute?" I thought to myself as I bumbled along the bus route. Arriving at the specified destination I waited patiently. At twenty-minutes too early I was beginning to get anxious. Would he even arrive? Has he already arrived, took one look and legged it? Will he look like him? Was it really a good idea to wear a faux leather shirt to a First Date? Nerves getting the better of me I messaged him, letting him know I had arrived. Seconds later I heard a ping.
"I thought we were meeting at half-one? :) xxx" The message read. Checking my calender I felt like the biggest penis in the universe. Making up some excuse and face-palming myself I wandered into the town centre for some window-retail therapy to compose myself, laughing all the way. "How stupid of yourself. Gosh Abbey you are such a tool sometimes!" I silently scolded as I looked at Blanket Capes of the new Autumn/Winter 2014 collections in the high street stores. Returning to the meeting spot I anticipated the arrival of my date. At just twenty I was sceptical on his idea of what this encounter may lead to and at nearly three-years his senior (God I am so old) I worried about the compatibility. As his waltzed round the corner I swooned as his arms pulled me into his tall frame. A quick cuddle was quickly followed by a brisk walk in hunt of the coffee shop I had already picked out on my walk to work the morning before. Conversation was electric right from the get go and he was more attractive than he was on his dating profiles or his social media pages. A good and proper TDH - Tall, Dark and Handsome.
Seating ourselves in the middle of the coffee house we sipped on hot chocolates topped with marshmallows and cream. I couldn't help but notice flecks of amber in his already deep brown eyes. "Best put on my water-wings I might fall in" I chuckled to myself. Giddy with excitement we chatted away about all manner of things from usual things like films and music to festivals and holidays. No subject I think was left untouched as we skipped from tale to tale involving everyone from family members and friends to the latest headlines. Before we knew it I felt as though I had known Mr. ToyBoy for years and with my initial concerns that my young date was not what I was looking for in this whole world of dating I soon noticed that I was having more laughs with him than I think I had in a long, long time. He was young and fresh and new and exciting. Something my life had been lacking for a few months now. Parts of my date intrigued me. Like why would he want to go on a date with me first of all? Although I may party like I was born in 1994 sometimes I am still a respectable twenty-something with a fast approaching birthday which will then leave myself and my date exactly three years, eleven months and several days difference in age. The fact that in conversation Mr. ToyBoy explained that I was only a few months younger than one of his sisters made me question why I had even said yes. But then I realised that there was a massive grin splitting my face in two and I was having the time of my life. Ahh yes, that's why!
As the Date continued I thought that it might be a good idea to take a walk along the river and since Mr. ToyBoy had not really been to Bedford before I thought I would highlight the good bits of the City. Walking along the edge of the river bank we stopped at the foot of a familiar bridge. Pushing aside memoirs of Mr. Cheese and butterflies I was ushered to take the first steps onto it. Almost as a right of passage I did so knowing that barely twelve months ago I was doing the same thing with a different face. Upon reaching the other side we continued our conversations, well, that was until we saw the cutest little ball of fur bundling along the gravel path winding round the river. Simultaneously we whispered about how sweet it looked and our fury at not having a puppy like that. I turned and looked at my date as he did to me. A mutual love for dogs! Bliss. As we unintentionally followed the canine and its owners we kept brushing hands. As wonderful as it was I wondered about when the first move would be made if ever. Just then as we overtook the fluff-pup and after giving it a little pat on its soft head, Mr. ToyBoy gently and sweetly took ahold of my hand. Heart skipping slightly I felt my face crack once more. Trying to hide my excitement, head-thoughts turned to Mr. Cheese and how much effort and courage it took for me to build up and ask him to hold my had as we waltzed the hot streets of Kensington and Chelsea back in the summer of last year.
Settling down on a bench I could tell what was coming next. Nervousness racked his Rugby-playing body as he obviously pondered on how to approach my lips. Secretly knowing what my Date was planning I pouted and made my face look as cute as I could. More chatter took over though and before long we were deep in conversation about my inability as a graduated Media Studies student to have gone through my course not watching classics like Lord of The Rings and Disney's Frozen. I think I may have even had a solo performance of Let It Go?! Laughing along he asked if I was cold. I said yes. Without another word I was forced into a cuddle. Snuggling into his chest I mentioned about my furnace-like heat that I seemed to give off. Mr. ToyBoy agreed and followed up with a comment that made me think that maybe age didn't matter so much.
"I wish I had met you sooner Abbey. You make me feel really at ease and have made getting better easier." (He was poorly with a case of probable man-flu earlier in the week) Mr. ToyBoy said in a deep whisper. Turning my head up to face him I saw his brown eyes gaze into mine. As the curtains fell over our peepers and our heads turned I knew it wouldn't be long before I got to know just how mature he was. Locking lips I could feel the delightfully light but intense pressure on the nape of my neck as we kissed passionately in the increasingly chillier weather. Gently teasing each other we got into a rhythm and continued for what was only mere seconds but in which I wished could never end. Breaking from the lustful make-out sesh I returned my head to Mr. ToyBoy's shoulder and looked out to the still water of the river. I smiled at the tactical positioning of where we had chose to indulge in our first kiss. On the left was the wrong bridge. On the right was the right bridge. Somehow I felt at ease with my decision to move on from Monsieur Cheese. I was happy and smiling and potentially had someone here with me holding me in his arms that wanted me. Just as I took reflection on how at ease I was and to the last person I shared with part of the world with I felt a little peck on my hairline. Sweet as it was I think I knew then that I really liked my Date.
After getting caught in a rain storm and nearly catching Hypothermia we called it a day and headed back to town so we could make our own ways home. Unfortunately due to the rain (and not the fact that we were stopping every few steps to have a cheeky kiss in said rain) Mr. ToyBoy had missed his connection home. So before calling a cab we headed into a Caffe to get warm and dry as well as indulge in a little sweetness in the form of two more hot chocolates and a white-chocolate Blondie to share. "He can share this Blondie any day!" I pondered arrogantly to myself as I took a lady-like gulp from my creamy concoction. Sharing out the treats of yet more marshmallows, crumbly chocolate and nutty brownies conversation ebbed. I didn't really know what to say, although I knew the Date itself would have to end at some point. Rising from the table we stepped into the fresh outside and dialled for a driver. As we said our goodbyes we both agreed on having a wonderful afternoon in each other's company. Another smooch before I dragged myself away, struggling not to skip all the way home.
Mr. ToyBoy. The one to bring about the question of age-difference. The one who makes me feel like I am fifteen again. The one who makes me quander what I am really looking for in 2014. In all honesty I don't know. But I know one thing for certain and that is that if the first Date is anything to go by, the second Date will be just as electric. Date number two - Bring it on Mr. ToyBoy!
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Monday, 19 May 2014
Toilet Terrors and Fishy Frights!
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
Hello There,
And so after ten long months waiting and many, many times of myself fighting back the high of endorphins and dopamine after a bedroom workout I was thrilled to hear that Mr. Cheese loves me! And yes I was not false in my hopes or wrong in my hearing of the phrase for Mr. Cheese said it again over the weekend after a wonderful sunny Saturday as we lay on the trampoline in his huge garden at his families home in the country. As we lay underneath the fading sky, watching bats skit across our focus my dearest Mr. Cheese informed me for the second time that it was not a mistake and that for the first time since Miss Cardboard Box he loved someone else. Me. Little old me. The same old me that has been doubting our relationship from the very beginning. The very same person that blurted out the same phrase on the platform of Victoria Underground all those many moons ago last year. Yes. I think it is safe to say that life is somewhat better now that we have found bliss.
Speaking of blissful moments stolen together it was some of the shared moments with Mr. Cheese's family that made me ponder my future with them and him. Now obviously you are not all to rush out and buy your hat's just yet, although I feel that things could be a lot more simpler now I'm looking at the relationship in a new light. I suppose if there is one thing that Mr. Workaholic taught me it was that life is unpredictable and that you can spend years building the foundations to your future only to have someone torch them before your very eyes with the only thing you can do is to sit back and watch all your hopes and dreams burn to the ground. I like Mr. Cheese although sitting in the adults lounge at the front of the fully detached cottage, snuggled into my darling watching the nail-biting cup final between Arsenal and Hull sipping on wine I glanced over to the rest of his perfect family imagining how I could fit right in here. Pappa Cheese in just his underpants (Not joking!), Momma Cheese tending to her boys making sure they were well taken care of, Mr. Cheese and his brothers fooling around and acting like the kids they are. It made me yearn for something as idealistic as that in years to come. Looking back on my weekend, what with its glorious weather and idyllic snatched moments its hard to think that this was all amongst yet another raging argument with the Tweedles.
On the other hand though I thought about the family I have. Or had. Whatever way you look at it family is important. Probably one of the most important things in life. No. The Most important thing in life. Without family you are nothing. Without family there is no you. Although reflecting on my own is hard given the separation of my parents and breakdown of said family unit I think only makes me want one of my own that is better and stronger than ever. As the sun shone in through the roof light in the large kitchen of Mr. Cheese's family home I helped chop and prepare the salad. Conversation with Momma Cheese alone turned to my own maternal connection (or the lack of one) and the question was finally asked. When answering the question of why I never speak of my own mother arises I always have to be careful and slightly coy about how I tell the person asking the question. I knew that with four boisterous lads on the loose in and out of the kitchen I didn't have much time and so the extended edition was spared. I could tell that whilst Momma Cheese was itching to know the answer why, she was also very sweetly anxious as to not upset me. I explained simply as I had a million times before that whilst coming into constant conflict with her for my entire life, after my parents divorce my mother simply couldn't stand the fact that I wanted to see my father and so as a result threw me out. It was harder this time seeing the shock on Momma Cheese's face as I could tell it is something that even in her worst night terrors she could never dream of doing the same to her four boys. And almost as if right on cue the youngest of the Cheese brothers appeared with a question about dinner and my passed was soon just floating words soon to evaporate and be replaced by love and laughter.
All was not plain sailing this weekend though as I almost got caught up stream without a paddle - Don't worry these jokes will soon make sense! Seeing two silvery fish wrapped up in a plastic bag on the kitchen counter, I boasted about how my own father had taught me how to gut and prepare fish for cooking and since the Cheese's were having a BBQ I decided to gloat a little more than usual in anticipation that the sea creatures contained in the freezer bag were already fully ready for the Barbie. On closer inspection to the deceased critters I realised that whilst they were very much dead, (I washed them and whilst no one was watching played with them pretending I was Ariel the little mermaid and that these were my companions! Yes I know I'm sad!) They were fully in-tacked biologically. Not wanting to look like a tit and trying desperately to show how amazing I am in the kitchen I chopped off the heads of my underwater friends, cut off their tails and fins, and finally ripped out their insides! Giving them a after-life massage with some lemon, salt and pepper I wrapped them in a towel of tin foil and stuck them in the fire pit for all of about five minutes. Its OK though they had three skewers of prawn-y pal's to keep them company whilst they steamed away. I was very impressed with myself and they tasted wonderful.
And goodness me the faux pas didn't begin their either as Friday night we all congregated at a posh local restaurant with the whole Cheese family out to celebrate Pappa Cheese's birthday. Apparently he is near to sixty but I myself cannot see how this is possible since both Momma and Pappa Cheese look so young. Very confusing. Nevertheless the moment come when I had to break the seal. choosing y moment carefully I politely excused myself from the table and made my way across the tinie-weenie restaurant floor to a door in which I thought would lead to a entrance and lavatories. I was taken aback however after entering through said door and noticing that it was an extension of the establishment and tonight was hosting a meeting. Obviously very important and not wanting to disturb such pressing matters I asked shyly where the toilets were. They looked at me with utter disgrace and contempt. The faces stared at me. I stared back. It was a tense battle of wills and I was literally shitting myself. After what seemed like an eternity of angry looks one spokesperson pointed to a door across the room and motioned me to go and inform me that I should not call them toilets I should call them lavatories. Not wanting to upset or disturb the committee any further I hurried along passed the glares. Only as I turned my back to leave I heard a little voice within the group of obvious villagers piped up and whisp-squeeked (Across between squeaking and whispering) "She called them toilets!" To which nearly made me wet myself right there and then. As I sat on said throne I took a moment to realise what had actually in real-life, really happen. Not only had I used the incorrect phrase to describe such an act of nature but I had also just walked in and through what can only be seen as a regular meeting held by the Federation of Fouling. Other witty names I came up with at the table included 'The Toilet Committee' and the 'Poo Police' - All of which gave at least a chuckle when I explained what was on the other side of the rightly coloured, brown door. Although on later reflection I realise now that they were all involved with SHITT - the Society Held In Toilet Terminology.
Laughs and giggles aside now though as I have a hectic week ahead of me! Tomorrow I am meeting up with Miss Chocolate to hear all about her life and liaisons. then on Friday is the first wedding of a friend - The marriage of Miss Bride and her fiancé whom I have both known for years and are a wonderful couple. Sunday I have the joy of spending it with my favourite ladies, Miss Tweedle-Dee, Miss Tweedle-Dumb and Miss Stuu for a lovely, hopefully sunny day out in Brighton for Miss Tweedle-Dumb's Birthday! A busy weekend jam-packed with family, friends and fun. Finally though after what seems like forever I have a normal social life again. And this time it even includes some regular exercise.
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Hello There,
And so after ten long months waiting and many, many times of myself fighting back the high of endorphins and dopamine after a bedroom workout I was thrilled to hear that Mr. Cheese loves me! And yes I was not false in my hopes or wrong in my hearing of the phrase for Mr. Cheese said it again over the weekend after a wonderful sunny Saturday as we lay on the trampoline in his huge garden at his families home in the country. As we lay underneath the fading sky, watching bats skit across our focus my dearest Mr. Cheese informed me for the second time that it was not a mistake and that for the first time since Miss Cardboard Box he loved someone else. Me. Little old me. The same old me that has been doubting our relationship from the very beginning. The very same person that blurted out the same phrase on the platform of Victoria Underground all those many moons ago last year. Yes. I think it is safe to say that life is somewhat better now that we have found bliss.
Speaking of blissful moments stolen together it was some of the shared moments with Mr. Cheese's family that made me ponder my future with them and him. Now obviously you are not all to rush out and buy your hat's just yet, although I feel that things could be a lot more simpler now I'm looking at the relationship in a new light. I suppose if there is one thing that Mr. Workaholic taught me it was that life is unpredictable and that you can spend years building the foundations to your future only to have someone torch them before your very eyes with the only thing you can do is to sit back and watch all your hopes and dreams burn to the ground. I like Mr. Cheese although sitting in the adults lounge at the front of the fully detached cottage, snuggled into my darling watching the nail-biting cup final between Arsenal and Hull sipping on wine I glanced over to the rest of his perfect family imagining how I could fit right in here. Pappa Cheese in just his underpants (Not joking!), Momma Cheese tending to her boys making sure they were well taken care of, Mr. Cheese and his brothers fooling around and acting like the kids they are. It made me yearn for something as idealistic as that in years to come. Looking back on my weekend, what with its glorious weather and idyllic snatched moments its hard to think that this was all amongst yet another raging argument with the Tweedles.
On the other hand though I thought about the family I have. Or had. Whatever way you look at it family is important. Probably one of the most important things in life. No. The Most important thing in life. Without family you are nothing. Without family there is no you. Although reflecting on my own is hard given the separation of my parents and breakdown of said family unit I think only makes me want one of my own that is better and stronger than ever. As the sun shone in through the roof light in the large kitchen of Mr. Cheese's family home I helped chop and prepare the salad. Conversation with Momma Cheese alone turned to my own maternal connection (or the lack of one) and the question was finally asked. When answering the question of why I never speak of my own mother arises I always have to be careful and slightly coy about how I tell the person asking the question. I knew that with four boisterous lads on the loose in and out of the kitchen I didn't have much time and so the extended edition was spared. I could tell that whilst Momma Cheese was itching to know the answer why, she was also very sweetly anxious as to not upset me. I explained simply as I had a million times before that whilst coming into constant conflict with her for my entire life, after my parents divorce my mother simply couldn't stand the fact that I wanted to see my father and so as a result threw me out. It was harder this time seeing the shock on Momma Cheese's face as I could tell it is something that even in her worst night terrors she could never dream of doing the same to her four boys. And almost as if right on cue the youngest of the Cheese brothers appeared with a question about dinner and my passed was soon just floating words soon to evaporate and be replaced by love and laughter.
All was not plain sailing this weekend though as I almost got caught up stream without a paddle - Don't worry these jokes will soon make sense! Seeing two silvery fish wrapped up in a plastic bag on the kitchen counter, I boasted about how my own father had taught me how to gut and prepare fish for cooking and since the Cheese's were having a BBQ I decided to gloat a little more than usual in anticipation that the sea creatures contained in the freezer bag were already fully ready for the Barbie. On closer inspection to the deceased critters I realised that whilst they were very much dead, (I washed them and whilst no one was watching played with them pretending I was Ariel the little mermaid and that these were my companions! Yes I know I'm sad!) They were fully in-tacked biologically. Not wanting to look like a tit and trying desperately to show how amazing I am in the kitchen I chopped off the heads of my underwater friends, cut off their tails and fins, and finally ripped out their insides! Giving them a after-life massage with some lemon, salt and pepper I wrapped them in a towel of tin foil and stuck them in the fire pit for all of about five minutes. Its OK though they had three skewers of prawn-y pal's to keep them company whilst they steamed away. I was very impressed with myself and they tasted wonderful.
And goodness me the faux pas didn't begin their either as Friday night we all congregated at a posh local restaurant with the whole Cheese family out to celebrate Pappa Cheese's birthday. Apparently he is near to sixty but I myself cannot see how this is possible since both Momma and Pappa Cheese look so young. Very confusing. Nevertheless the moment come when I had to break the seal. choosing y moment carefully I politely excused myself from the table and made my way across the tinie-weenie restaurant floor to a door in which I thought would lead to a entrance and lavatories. I was taken aback however after entering through said door and noticing that it was an extension of the establishment and tonight was hosting a meeting. Obviously very important and not wanting to disturb such pressing matters I asked shyly where the toilets were. They looked at me with utter disgrace and contempt. The faces stared at me. I stared back. It was a tense battle of wills and I was literally shitting myself. After what seemed like an eternity of angry looks one spokesperson pointed to a door across the room and motioned me to go and inform me that I should not call them toilets I should call them lavatories. Not wanting to upset or disturb the committee any further I hurried along passed the glares. Only as I turned my back to leave I heard a little voice within the group of obvious villagers piped up and whisp-squeeked (Across between squeaking and whispering) "She called them toilets!" To which nearly made me wet myself right there and then. As I sat on said throne I took a moment to realise what had actually in real-life, really happen. Not only had I used the incorrect phrase to describe such an act of nature but I had also just walked in and through what can only be seen as a regular meeting held by the Federation of Fouling. Other witty names I came up with at the table included 'The Toilet Committee' and the 'Poo Police' - All of which gave at least a chuckle when I explained what was on the other side of the rightly coloured, brown door. Although on later reflection I realise now that they were all involved with SHITT - the Society Held In Toilet Terminology.
Laughs and giggles aside now though as I have a hectic week ahead of me! Tomorrow I am meeting up with Miss Chocolate to hear all about her life and liaisons. then on Friday is the first wedding of a friend - The marriage of Miss Bride and her fiancé whom I have both known for years and are a wonderful couple. Sunday I have the joy of spending it with my favourite ladies, Miss Tweedle-Dee, Miss Tweedle-Dumb and Miss Stuu for a lovely, hopefully sunny day out in Brighton for Miss Tweedle-Dumb's Birthday! A busy weekend jam-packed with family, friends and fun. Finally though after what seems like forever I have a normal social life again. And this time it even includes some regular exercise.
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
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