Evening one and all,
Following on from the festivities I have quite some to share with you all. Apologies for the absent nature, unfortunately with writing once a week, there would have come a time when the dates would have lay on a Christmas and New Years eve, both of which were spent drinking alcohol and eating copious amounts of chocolate and calorific foods that will probably lead me to death sooner or later. Nevertheless I have had a wonderful new years and Christmas, hope that yours also was pleasant? Mine was eventful, as it always is, lots of presents and gifts, family and friends to see and mingle with. Oh and my Dad got engaged to his girlfriend of eight years. How I feel about it? Lets just say I am taking a rain check and will be back with you soon ...
The first few days of the New Year and my Christmas break from work have been heavily occupied with Wedding Planning (and not of my Dads'). Finally we have booked a venue, a beautiful 'T-shaped' converted old school
in a small village (smaller than the one I live in now) near to the Church we plan to marry, Mr. Warehouse's family church that everyone in his family all bar a handful have declared they're vows. In all fairness it would have been nice to have it in my family church, you know since I am the one christened and all, however with Mr. Warehouse referring to it as "The Asylum" and its less than perfect track record of my parents divorce, I struggled to find its importance to have it there, especially with the 1970's styled outside - See here!
Now we have booked the venue the most important things come next. The Bar - Booked and we have even been able to book a free drink for everyone on arrival and even better; No charge for hiring! I suppose Mr. Warehouse and I now need to clothe ourselves, feed our guests and give them something to dance too!
With still so much left to plan and organise, Mr. Warehouse thought we would kick off the New Year in style and after meeting with old family friend Miss Bride about her hopefully securing us a beautiful and tasty wedding cake, my fiance and I hopped in the car and headed for a wedding fair we were given free tickets too at the very grand and beautiful Knebworth House. However with the invites and tickets being about as clear as mud (we'll get onto that later) Mr. Warehouse and I drove around for ages trying to look for this place. Gate after gate after gate after frigging access gate we got too was all shut up and closed off. Searching in vain for an alternative route just lead us to another closed off access through road and with one final go of it I was determined to find this fucking place!
However what I did not realised was that the postal code Mr. Warehouse had taken down from a sign nearby to the venue was literally in the middle of fucking no-where! going from a tarmac road with markings to a concrete with potholes for days. Following this and our "trusted" technology lead us to a a gravelly farm track with lumps and digs I thought the car would fall into. Poor Viv had more to contend with though as soon dirt lanes turned to barely-able-to-squeeze-through boggy tracks. With the middle of the road (if you can even call it that at this stage) high enough for me to feel the car scrapping its insides as we slowly pushed through the grassy mud, I could feel the car slipping and sliding, barely able to keep a grip on the boggy track. I thought at one stage we will be sat in the car, middle of feckin' no-where, teetering on a tractor made verge in the middle of the road.
After making a forty-point turn and scratching the paintwork no end, we ignored the blasted GoogleMaps Shite and headed towards civilisation, not before passing walkers with strange looks as we continued and squeezed down lumpy mud tracks with dips and ducks aplenty.
Arriving at the posh concreted road, winding through the beautiful countryside estate we had just been fucking around in for the last two hours we were certainly glad to arrive and was looking forward to the free champagne and cake tasting on offer. However on arrival there was barely enough time to even look at suppliers let alone get some much needed information from them before the fashion show started.
Sitting down and enjoying the show was lovely and with a Fanta in hand and Mr. Warehouse by my side I couldn't be happier and realised that this would soon just turn into another anecdote about that time we nearly got stuck in a field. Lots of white dresses and formal wear later we left the show to be greeted by most of the suppliers shutting up shop or stall and going home. Ha Ha gutted and disappointed were not even the words. And because of all of the fiasco earlier both Mr. Warehouse and my phones had died and so we had to try and navigate our way home and cancel the plans to pick up some much needed wedding essentials. Oh the drama, but maybe something to add to the grooms speech.
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Showing posts with label Countryside. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Countryside. Show all posts
Monday, 7 January 2019
Monday, 19 November 2018
Country-Bumpkin Here I am!
Bonjour Mon Ami!
We. Are. In. And apologies for last weeks missing post as I am sure you were all gripped onto your screens just waiting to here when and what was happening - Unfortunately Country Bumpkin life means signal is poor and Internet is poorer!
Ahh Yes - The moment has come when Mr. Warehouse and I are now fully moved into our new home! I am officially broke and terrified of Adulting! Shit just got real! After multiple handover's and changes and problems galore, including a whole mess up with our housing plans, dimensions and specifications, we are finally in. Nevertheless, after receiving the devastating news that our entire property had been mis-sold, Mr Warehouse and I received an email from the Housing Association detailing that nearly a week earlier than planned, they had taken handover of the property and after consulting our solicitor we finally agreed upon a date! Five days on from then we would be picking up the keys and becoming home owners for the very first time!
Now I am hardly going to lie to you and say that the move or dismantling and remaking of furniture was difficult and fraught with arguments aplenty. I am sure that IKEA has been cited as a cause on many a divorce paper for failure to evoke pleasantries between loved ones! Mr Warehouse has continued to stress out throughout the entire process of moving home and is not making it any easier for himself when it comes to finding an item in particular. Buried under boxes and boxes of furniture and worldly possessions for the last few months I was certainly glad as I thought that this day would never come but I am so I am incredibly happy to be in my nice new, clean home with straight walls and no nooks or cranny's to try and keep clean. No pot smoking neighbours upstairs with their scatty ratty dog and barking at all hours of the day and night. No more living on one level with only a few steps between the whole property. No more patio or grubby garden. Thank the heavens for heard work and determination for I was laughed at the beginning of the year when I said to Mr Warehouse that I would buy a property in 2018. And you know what. I fucking did it.
We have been in the house now for a week or so officially and still have yet to put up a few more shelves and lots of pictures to make it feel more homely. I am positive that this will happen within the coming days as I am in preparation for mine and my Husband-To-Be to host our very first party. The first of many I hope - Although don't tell him that, he'll have a shit-fit. Ever since Mr Warehouse proposed to me on a cold autumn afternoon walk with Pooch in a wooded car-park I simply couldn't wait to tell everyone so they can share in the news and celebration of our engagement together. But on top of that we have just moved into our first home and would like to also show this off too. The Babe said that I was not allowed to have either party let alone two of them so I have combined them together to give us an Engagement Warming - Half Engagement Party, Half House Warming.
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
We. Are. In. And apologies for last weeks missing post as I am sure you were all gripped onto your screens just waiting to here when and what was happening - Unfortunately Country Bumpkin life means signal is poor and Internet is poorer!
Ahh Yes - The moment has come when Mr. Warehouse and I are now fully moved into our new home! I am officially broke and terrified of Adulting! Shit just got real! After multiple handover's and changes and problems galore, including a whole mess up with our housing plans, dimensions and specifications, we are finally in. Nevertheless, after receiving the devastating news that our entire property had been mis-sold, Mr Warehouse and I received an email from the Housing Association detailing that nearly a week earlier than planned, they had taken handover of the property and after consulting our solicitor we finally agreed upon a date! Five days on from then we would be picking up the keys and becoming home owners for the very first time!
Now I am hardly going to lie to you and say that the move or dismantling and remaking of furniture was difficult and fraught with arguments aplenty. I am sure that IKEA has been cited as a cause on many a divorce paper for failure to evoke pleasantries between loved ones! Mr Warehouse has continued to stress out throughout the entire process of moving home and is not making it any easier for himself when it comes to finding an item in particular. Buried under boxes and boxes of furniture and worldly possessions for the last few months I was certainly glad as I thought that this day would never come but I am so I am incredibly happy to be in my nice new, clean home with straight walls and no nooks or cranny's to try and keep clean. No pot smoking neighbours upstairs with their scatty ratty dog and barking at all hours of the day and night. No more living on one level with only a few steps between the whole property. No more patio or grubby garden. Thank the heavens for heard work and determination for I was laughed at the beginning of the year when I said to Mr Warehouse that I would buy a property in 2018. And you know what. I fucking did it.
We have been in the house now for a week or so officially and still have yet to put up a few more shelves and lots of pictures to make it feel more homely. I am positive that this will happen within the coming days as I am in preparation for mine and my Husband-To-Be to host our very first party. The first of many I hope - Although don't tell him that, he'll have a shit-fit. Ever since Mr Warehouse proposed to me on a cold autumn afternoon walk with Pooch in a wooded car-park I simply couldn't wait to tell everyone so they can share in the news and celebration of our engagement together. But on top of that we have just moved into our first home and would like to also show this off too. The Babe said that I was not allowed to have either party let alone two of them so I have combined them together to give us an Engagement Warming - Half Engagement Party, Half House Warming.
And so here we are. All settled into the idyllic countryside estates of Cranfield! Just dress me in Wellies or Tweed and call me a Country-Bumpkin!
Monday, 5 June 2017
Rub-A-Dub-Dub in my little Hot-Tub!
Hiya,
So it would seem that with less than 100-days to go until myself and Mr. Warehouse Jet off on holiday to Sunny Tenerife I am thoroughly looking forward to the fact that I can lay on the beach drinking cocktails and eat out for every meal. Anyone who knows me will know that holidays are exactly what I want to do in my spare time and with any spare cash, and whilst I have switched jobs in the last year it would appear that money is still an issue when it comes to holidaying.
Normally it would happen that Miss Tweedle-Dee, Miss Tweedle-Dumb and I organise a holiday during the summer months and Mr. Warehouse and I just have to make do in trying to get away at some other point throughout the year. But this year is different, for I am not really able to afford more than one holiday this year especially a big one. With my living expenses increasing after passing my test and getting a car, even with the change in career and more money coming in, I am envious and a tad jealous of my work colleagues that are able to Jet off to far away countries like the Caribbean and Mexico for annual holidays more than just once a year. But I suppose in retrospect if I was still living at home and had little outgoings then I also would be travelling the world. Who knows maybe I would be one of those pretentious posh kids from a middle class military background family that would swan off to Africa or somewhere out in Asia on some sort of gap Year from university in order to "find myself",
Anyway, for some odd reason this year it seems like much more of a struggle to save the money for spending on Mr Warehouse and my first beach holiday abroad. if I'm honest with myself I slightly regret the fact that we did not book somewhere a little bit more upper class. For Mr Warehouse I am sure that it will be amazing even if we were living in a Mud Hut for a week since his last holiday abroad to a beach resort was his brother's stag do a few years ago. They have been married for over 4-years I think and have a little boy who this weekend, just turned three, I honestly don't know what I would do if I couldn't go on holiday every year - I think I would go insane! Mind you I always class a holiday as something outside of your normal environment. A breakaway to an English seaside resort - Holiday! Visiting family in Southern Ireland - Holiday! Going to see your best friend in Basingstoke for the weekend - OK certainly not a holiday but definitely a break away from the norm.
Looking back on it now, I am slightly regretful at the fact that Miss Tweedle-Dee, Miss Tweedle-Dumb and I never booked anywhere to go away abroad just me and them. But it was their decision that this year we would scrap the summer holiday all in aid of a hot tub weekend, with champagne on ice and lots of giggles and laughter to be had all of it set in the beauty that is the old English country-side. Set in woodland slap-bang in between Bury St Edmunds, Ipswich and Lowestoft; Laxfield Lodges with a hot tub and Scenic outdoor views is certainly going to take the edge off not being able to be on a beach with the besties!
I shouldn't say too much as this time next week I will have a lot to say about what my weekend entailed and look forward to telling you all about one of the last and final time we will all be together.
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
So it would seem that with less than 100-days to go until myself and Mr. Warehouse Jet off on holiday to Sunny Tenerife I am thoroughly looking forward to the fact that I can lay on the beach drinking cocktails and eat out for every meal. Anyone who knows me will know that holidays are exactly what I want to do in my spare time and with any spare cash, and whilst I have switched jobs in the last year it would appear that money is still an issue when it comes to holidaying.
Normally it would happen that Miss Tweedle-Dee, Miss Tweedle-Dumb and I organise a holiday during the summer months and Mr. Warehouse and I just have to make do in trying to get away at some other point throughout the year. But this year is different, for I am not really able to afford more than one holiday this year especially a big one. With my living expenses increasing after passing my test and getting a car, even with the change in career and more money coming in, I am envious and a tad jealous of my work colleagues that are able to Jet off to far away countries like the Caribbean and Mexico for annual holidays more than just once a year. But I suppose in retrospect if I was still living at home and had little outgoings then I also would be travelling the world. Who knows maybe I would be one of those pretentious posh kids from a middle class military background family that would swan off to Africa or somewhere out in Asia on some sort of gap Year from university in order to "find myself",
Anyway, for some odd reason this year it seems like much more of a struggle to save the money for spending on Mr Warehouse and my first beach holiday abroad. if I'm honest with myself I slightly regret the fact that we did not book somewhere a little bit more upper class. For Mr Warehouse I am sure that it will be amazing even if we were living in a Mud Hut for a week since his last holiday abroad to a beach resort was his brother's stag do a few years ago. They have been married for over 4-years I think and have a little boy who this weekend, just turned three, I honestly don't know what I would do if I couldn't go on holiday every year - I think I would go insane! Mind you I always class a holiday as something outside of your normal environment. A breakaway to an English seaside resort - Holiday! Visiting family in Southern Ireland - Holiday! Going to see your best friend in Basingstoke for the weekend - OK certainly not a holiday but definitely a break away from the norm.
Looking back on it now, I am slightly regretful at the fact that Miss Tweedle-Dee, Miss Tweedle-Dumb and I never booked anywhere to go away abroad just me and them. But it was their decision that this year we would scrap the summer holiday all in aid of a hot tub weekend, with champagne on ice and lots of giggles and laughter to be had all of it set in the beauty that is the old English country-side. Set in woodland slap-bang in between Bury St Edmunds, Ipswich and Lowestoft; Laxfield Lodges with a hot tub and Scenic outdoor views is certainly going to take the edge off not being able to be on a beach with the besties!
I shouldn't say too much as this time next week I will have a lot to say about what my weekend entailed and look forward to telling you all about one of the last and final time we will all be together.
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Monday, 15 February 2016
Having a Whale of a Time!
Hello there one and all from a strangely sunny Dublin?!
Now, I say strangely as they don't call it "The Green Isle" for nothing you know and every time I have ever visited it has always been dreary and raining. However my holiday so far with Mr. Warehouse has been brilliant. Obviously last week there was talk of getting my Ta-Ta's out, although I think that was slightly optimistic given the fact that the weather out here is about the same temperature as back home in Blighty, not very warm indeed - ergo, no Ta-Ta's out this holiday!
Lets start from the beginning shall we? So finishing work on Thursday at half day was as blissful as all half days usually are, although this one was manic as I had been up since 6am and had not stopped to sit down until I was either at work, the nail salon or the hairdressers! It was go-go-go from the moment I got up and after finishing my working (half) day it did not stop there as I continued my day collecting medication for Mr. Warehouse, posting parcels, sending letters, buying some last holiday bits, collecting some clothes and packing my case and that was not including the pampering disasters I had on the way. I arrived at the nail salon I went to just before Christmas to get my nails did which incidentally made no difference what-so-ever as they were chipped by the time I finished packing Thursday night in turn putting me in a foul mood to start with. And the foul mood didn't stop when I woke up on Friday morning ready for our afternoon flight from Birmingham International as the hair cut I had the previous day that looked lovely, if a little on the short side, I now discovered that in actual fact I had been given what can only be described as a wonky graduated bob resulting in me loosing more than double what I asked her to trim. Royally fucked off now I had no choice but to don my rat-tail extensions in the hope they looked relatively real. Sipping on a Caramel Latte from my beloved Tassimo I went through the days travel plans to get us to the airport, before getting dressed and ready to leave.
Getting to the airport I thought would not be as faffy as it was, however with a journey time of around three-hours from door to airport check-in I was exhausted already. The slow train was very, very slow and with a connection time of seven-minutes I was anxious to get there in good haste. Sitting in Birmingham International Airport I was excited to be finally a little closer to our holiday away, although regretful slightly that it wasn't somewhere more adventurous on the departure board.
Several hours and an uneventful flight later we touched down in what appeared to be a very grey and overcast Dublin. My hopes were not high and whilst I knew we were not going to be sweltering in forty-degree heat I so wanted Ireland to be the place where Mr. Warehouse fell in love with it as much as I have in my years of coming here. Whizzing through airport security as usual with only a glance at who we all were, Mr. Warehouse and I headed to the exit only to be told that since the bus had to leave on time we would have to wait for the next one which was only an 'Irish' five-minutes away. I say 'Irish' as Irish people seem to be on a different time-scale, something which I am more than accustomed to. An 'Irish' five minutes is more like twenty, very similar to the commonly used phrases 'I am on my way' and 'I just need to do my make-up'.
After waiting around for more than twenty 'Irish' minutes, we had arrived at our final destination, our hotel! Discovering our room was 202 in the heady heights of a five-storey Georgian town-house with no lift access Mr. Warehouse reluctantly grabbed the bags and headed for the stairwell. Our room was tiny, smaller than Mr. Warehouse's bedroom at his mothers house back home it was nicely decorated and was situated only a few moments from the hub of Dublin's City centre including shops, restaurants and tourist-y things! Our first evening in the city we had agreed would be a slow one, so we headed to the Tourist Information and paid upfront for a Gravediggers Ghost Bus Tour, which is happening tonight - SO excited!
For dinner we had settled on a teeny-tiny burger joint called BoBos Burgers! Now everyone knows how much I love a good burger and believe me nothing could top my favourite place for burgers - London's Honest Burger! Last years first holiday to Lyon with Mr. Warehouse nearly toppled it with King Marcel, again feeding us on our first night to the French Foodie City! After reading on-line about how good this place was I knew I would have to try it out, and boy am I glad I did. I cannot recall the burger I had but in it was sweet red-onion chutney, a medium-rare Irish beef burger, yummy cheese, and other gorgeous ingredients! I opted for chips as well although after finishing my burger, I could only stomach a few fries. Feeling bad and after passing more than a handful of homeless people on our travels, I got the restaurant to bag them up ready for someone else's dinner tonight. Only a few metres down the street from the restaurant and outside a posh delicatessen, Mr. Warehouse and I spotted a homeless man who appeared to be asking for food and money. I bent down and explained that we were tourists and that after our meal just now we had not been able to eat all our chips (two buckets worth I might say adding up to over seven-euros). They were still warm and as I handed the grubby man the bag he continued to thank us, explaining that we were angels and that this was his dinner tonight. It was freezing out, not much more than one or two degrees so the fries in all fairness were probably nearly cold but for him we had possibly made his day and that is something money cant buy.
Saturday we travelled round on the tourist buses all day, attending the site of the Guinness Factory and walked past the Guinness hospital, set up by the Guinness family for the employees of the factory. The top two conditions doctors would see - Alcohol poisoning and sclerosis of the liver?! Enjoying our bus ride we headed back to the hotel to get ready for our all-Irish night out on the tiles in Dublin. The Temple Bar District of Dublin seemed to be the place to be and after heading into several pubs, having one drink at each we found ourselves at the end of the night in the same bar as we started at with the same Irish musicians as before. Drunk as Irish Husbands we headed for home collecting a McDonald's en-route (which tasted incredible I might add as my burger has crispy fried onions in it was amazing, although that might have been the umpteen ciders I had been drinking that evening) before we hailed a man with a bicycle-took-took to take us the ten minutes back to the hotel.
Waking up yesterday morning, Mr. Warehouse and I felt like the back-end of a Donkey with breath smelling much worse. Happy Valentines Day! Not being able to remember much that wasn't fuzzy or blurred, Dublin had well and truly fucked us in the bum. Hanging, I drank some water and took some paracetamol and got on with it whilst Mr. Warehouse groaned for about twenty minutes and then got over his hangover too. Boarding the bus we headed to Europe's third largest Zoo after London and Paris - Dublin Zoo of course! Walking around we saw babies such as Lion cubs, Elephants and Giraffes as well as their mommies and daddies too. Enjoying every bit of the day we ended it in the gift shop of all places where Mr. Warehouse bought me an adorable cuddly toy Lion - A romantic gesture I have always wanted a lover to buy me from the Zoo, something Mr. Warehouse probably won't know until reading this the sweetheart!
So my holiday so far has been wonderful and very romantic given it Valentines weekend. Walking around Dublin with my other half is lovely but I am also looking forward to the next part of our trip which commences tomorrow, where Mr. Warehouse and I will head down to Southern Ireland near Kilkenny and visit my Aunt and Uncle and their farmyard animals in the thickness of the Irish countryside.
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Now, I say strangely as they don't call it "The Green Isle" for nothing you know and every time I have ever visited it has always been dreary and raining. However my holiday so far with Mr. Warehouse has been brilliant. Obviously last week there was talk of getting my Ta-Ta's out, although I think that was slightly optimistic given the fact that the weather out here is about the same temperature as back home in Blighty, not very warm indeed - ergo, no Ta-Ta's out this holiday!
Lets start from the beginning shall we? So finishing work on Thursday at half day was as blissful as all half days usually are, although this one was manic as I had been up since 6am and had not stopped to sit down until I was either at work, the nail salon or the hairdressers! It was go-go-go from the moment I got up and after finishing my working (half) day it did not stop there as I continued my day collecting medication for Mr. Warehouse, posting parcels, sending letters, buying some last holiday bits, collecting some clothes and packing my case and that was not including the pampering disasters I had on the way. I arrived at the nail salon I went to just before Christmas to get my nails did which incidentally made no difference what-so-ever as they were chipped by the time I finished packing Thursday night in turn putting me in a foul mood to start with. And the foul mood didn't stop when I woke up on Friday morning ready for our afternoon flight from Birmingham International as the hair cut I had the previous day that looked lovely, if a little on the short side, I now discovered that in actual fact I had been given what can only be described as a wonky graduated bob resulting in me loosing more than double what I asked her to trim. Royally fucked off now I had no choice but to don my rat-tail extensions in the hope they looked relatively real. Sipping on a Caramel Latte from my beloved Tassimo I went through the days travel plans to get us to the airport, before getting dressed and ready to leave.
Getting to the airport I thought would not be as faffy as it was, however with a journey time of around three-hours from door to airport check-in I was exhausted already. The slow train was very, very slow and with a connection time of seven-minutes I was anxious to get there in good haste. Sitting in Birmingham International Airport I was excited to be finally a little closer to our holiday away, although regretful slightly that it wasn't somewhere more adventurous on the departure board.
Several hours and an uneventful flight later we touched down in what appeared to be a very grey and overcast Dublin. My hopes were not high and whilst I knew we were not going to be sweltering in forty-degree heat I so wanted Ireland to be the place where Mr. Warehouse fell in love with it as much as I have in my years of coming here. Whizzing through airport security as usual with only a glance at who we all were, Mr. Warehouse and I headed to the exit only to be told that since the bus had to leave on time we would have to wait for the next one which was only an 'Irish' five-minutes away. I say 'Irish' as Irish people seem to be on a different time-scale, something which I am more than accustomed to. An 'Irish' five minutes is more like twenty, very similar to the commonly used phrases 'I am on my way' and 'I just need to do my make-up'.
After waiting around for more than twenty 'Irish' minutes, we had arrived at our final destination, our hotel! Discovering our room was 202 in the heady heights of a five-storey Georgian town-house with no lift access Mr. Warehouse reluctantly grabbed the bags and headed for the stairwell. Our room was tiny, smaller than Mr. Warehouse's bedroom at his mothers house back home it was nicely decorated and was situated only a few moments from the hub of Dublin's City centre including shops, restaurants and tourist-y things! Our first evening in the city we had agreed would be a slow one, so we headed to the Tourist Information and paid upfront for a Gravediggers Ghost Bus Tour, which is happening tonight - SO excited!
For dinner we had settled on a teeny-tiny burger joint called BoBos Burgers! Now everyone knows how much I love a good burger and believe me nothing could top my favourite place for burgers - London's Honest Burger! Last years first holiday to Lyon with Mr. Warehouse nearly toppled it with King Marcel, again feeding us on our first night to the French Foodie City! After reading on-line about how good this place was I knew I would have to try it out, and boy am I glad I did. I cannot recall the burger I had but in it was sweet red-onion chutney, a medium-rare Irish beef burger, yummy cheese, and other gorgeous ingredients! I opted for chips as well although after finishing my burger, I could only stomach a few fries. Feeling bad and after passing more than a handful of homeless people on our travels, I got the restaurant to bag them up ready for someone else's dinner tonight. Only a few metres down the street from the restaurant and outside a posh delicatessen, Mr. Warehouse and I spotted a homeless man who appeared to be asking for food and money. I bent down and explained that we were tourists and that after our meal just now we had not been able to eat all our chips (two buckets worth I might say adding up to over seven-euros). They were still warm and as I handed the grubby man the bag he continued to thank us, explaining that we were angels and that this was his dinner tonight. It was freezing out, not much more than one or two degrees so the fries in all fairness were probably nearly cold but for him we had possibly made his day and that is something money cant buy.
Saturday we travelled round on the tourist buses all day, attending the site of the Guinness Factory and walked past the Guinness hospital, set up by the Guinness family for the employees of the factory. The top two conditions doctors would see - Alcohol poisoning and sclerosis of the liver?! Enjoying our bus ride we headed back to the hotel to get ready for our all-Irish night out on the tiles in Dublin. The Temple Bar District of Dublin seemed to be the place to be and after heading into several pubs, having one drink at each we found ourselves at the end of the night in the same bar as we started at with the same Irish musicians as before. Drunk as Irish Husbands we headed for home collecting a McDonald's en-route (which tasted incredible I might add as my burger has crispy fried onions in it was amazing, although that might have been the umpteen ciders I had been drinking that evening) before we hailed a man with a bicycle-took-took to take us the ten minutes back to the hotel.
Waking up yesterday morning, Mr. Warehouse and I felt like the back-end of a Donkey with breath smelling much worse. Happy Valentines Day! Not being able to remember much that wasn't fuzzy or blurred, Dublin had well and truly fucked us in the bum. Hanging, I drank some water and took some paracetamol and got on with it whilst Mr. Warehouse groaned for about twenty minutes and then got over his hangover too. Boarding the bus we headed to Europe's third largest Zoo after London and Paris - Dublin Zoo of course! Walking around we saw babies such as Lion cubs, Elephants and Giraffes as well as their mommies and daddies too. Enjoying every bit of the day we ended it in the gift shop of all places where Mr. Warehouse bought me an adorable cuddly toy Lion - A romantic gesture I have always wanted a lover to buy me from the Zoo, something Mr. Warehouse probably won't know until reading this the sweetheart!
So my holiday so far has been wonderful and very romantic given it Valentines weekend. Walking around Dublin with my other half is lovely but I am also looking forward to the next part of our trip which commences tomorrow, where Mr. Warehouse and I will head down to Southern Ireland near Kilkenny and visit my Aunt and Uncle and their farmyard animals in the thickness of the Irish countryside.
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Tuesday, 17 September 2013
Bombarded With Questions!
Morning All,
Hard to believe that this time last year I was still in the gloomy rainclouds of my break-up with Mr. Workaholic. A year on, with the sunshine and rainbows of last week still lingering I couldn't think of a time where I have been happier in a long while. The pestering questions are still there from last week, constantly nagging and reminding me that at some point a decision has to be made - But after the weekend I have had, I think that a special someone has already made that decision for me ...
So after a few days off work from my old job at the windscreen company I began to prepare for a lazy weekend with Mr. Cheese as well as my fast approaching first day in the new role as an office junior in the finance sector. The Tweedles and I had planned a night out on the tiles at a gay bar but unfortunately Miss Tweedle-Dumb was involved in a car accident on the way home from work. Thankfully everyone was OK but sadly the car was not and as a result was a write off. Rest in peace 'Blu Cantrell' the Corsa. Nevertheless I was glad to have the Friday evening to prepare myself for a day (and even more so an evening) with Mr. Cheese. And so the pampering, preening and all-round de-fuzz was to commence!
At just gone eleven in the morning I was greeted with a wide smile, a hug and an unexpected kiss from Mr. Cheese as he rocked up in his cute blue car and away we went. First on the agenda for the day was a walk around the countryside just outside of Bedford in his home village. Trundling down the country back road's I could hear his nerves showing in the way he drove and I tried my best to be as still and as silent so as not to make his disposition worse. As we approached his village he went on to explain his younger brother's eighteenth the previous evening and how all the family had arrived to celebrate. I didn't really need an answer to the next question I was about to ask because as Mr. Cheese pulled the tiny car into the farm lane on which he lived outside the balloon adorned house was several cars. Not only this but the vehicle's were also accompanied by their owners and passengers. The Family! They hadn't left as early as Mr. Cheese had hoped and now I was about to meet the potential in-laws! There was Grandma's and Uncle's and Aunt's and Cousin's. Alot to take in but as the engine was switched off and the driver's door was opened I knew I had to make an impression; And a good one at that.
Stepping out of the car onto the wet gravel I walked toward Mr. Cheese, slightly nervous and anxious about being thrust into the limelight. I enjoyed knowing that this was maybe the start of something a little more serious than a couple of dates and secret nights spent in each others arms. I was introduced as 'Abbey' and before Mr. Cheese even had the chance to give me a dreaded label I said hello and politely waved. Seconds later everyone left and I could breath easy. Until that is I took not of the abode we were at. A beautiful family home set in wild countryside and with modern extensions but still keeping a oldy-worldy vibe. Staring at the front door and the scenery surrounding it I couldn't have though of a more idealistic and perfect family home. Shushing my own thoughts of future family and pushing them aside Mr. Cheese apologised and swiftly welcomed me in. The inside was just as mind-blowing as the exterior. I wouldn't have been able to imagine such perfection and quaintness if I tried. Several reception rooms, a large beautiful garden adorned with flowers and a secret vegetable patch as well as a glorious kitchen and lounge for entertaining. I couldn't have dreamt it any nicer.
After once again fighting the urge to flap about his parents house we decided to have a warm cuppa before heading out on our walk. After finishing up and popping everything in the sink we went to out our shoes on. But what was that. I heard foot steps on the landing. Youngest of all four brothers was up and like Batman himself hoofed down the stairs only to be greeted by a strange lady with purple-hair and wearing a dungaree dress. I said hello. It was only polite. After making very, very small talk with the teenager Mr. Cheese and I held hands as we walked the country lanes and farm land surrounding his majestic home. Carefully manoeuvring our way across muddy fields I felt like I was a kid again; Laughing and giggling without a care in the world. Just me and my Mr.Cheese!
Once we had reached a beauty spot we turned to look out over the hills towards Bedford itself watching it rise in the chilly weekend sunshine. Turning to me we began to cuddle and it wasn't long before we started to make idle chit-chat. Now after my awfully embarrassing stint on the box with regards to the dating show I went on in May/June I have since been blessed with the pet name 'Lemon Lady'. I think it's cute and says alot about both our personalities. All of a sudden though, as if I hadn't had enough shock for the day so far I think I heard some frightening but very romantically sweet words escape from Mr. Cheese's soft and kissable lips.After pulling me into his torso for a snuggle he made what seemed to me to be a passing comment. A simple gesture of appreciation. "I love you Lemon Lady" Mr. Cheese said through hushed tones. I heard it though. We both did. Or did we? Did I? Did he just say the 'L' word in a round about way? Oh goodness! A little speechless I lay against his warm body as he stroked my hair. As the silence set in I knew that there would be more questions to add to the growing list!
Arriving back at Mr. Cheese's family home I was greeted by his other older brother and again sat down for some more tea before once again heading off out for a potter around some local shops and coffee shops. Returning to the house simply to drop off the car we had a brief chat with the brothers about football and I stood there pretending to know what they were on about. But then the door went and in walks the king and queen of the palace! Mother and Father. Shortly followed by the birthday boy himself after visiting a university together. Smiling and wide-eyed I tried my hardest not to be terrified of meeting the people who probably meant the most to Mr. Cheese. They seemed wonderful, loving and warm people and as I left that afternoon I was hoped to been seen again from Mumma Cheese. I took it with a pinch of salt and tried not to think about the future in too much detail. Best not to get your hopes up in these situations unless they come tumbling down.
Then it was back to mine for what was meant to be a relaxing film before dinner out at a fancy restaurant. Safe to say that the film was never shown but I had starters before we even left my flat. Cheeky I know but that is the one thing that I enjoy doing to a lover. Going down on someone can be hard for alot of girls and women out there, hell I was once one of them - Terrified of the 'S or S' situation as well as the taste and the whole issue of fellatio. But for Mr. Cheese it's much more than just 'giving head'. The trembles and quivers make it all worth it, not to mention the way it send shivers down my own spine. Besides compared to the rest of my previous Don Juan's, Mr. Cheese is by far the tastiest of all my meals!
After dinner I went to the bathroom only to discover something horrifying! I wont mention what but it was scary and could well have ruined the evenings entertainment but I am glad to say that it was just a blip (no pun intended) and all is well. Just to be on the safe side, it was done with the lights off just in case Aunt Urma did make an unwelcome appearance between the sheets. Returning to the table Mr. Cheese continued conversation and somehow we got around to the subject of Christmas, especially what with being less than a hundred days to go! Once more the shock train hit me, but this time at a much higher speed and one that has left me pondering and stressing about this since it was first bairn. Through hushed voices and nervous mumbles Mr. Cheese asked me to join him and his family for Christmas away visiting more family in a snowy picturesque part of the North-East England. As romantically beautiful as it is the idea of being away from my own family at such an important time of year brings about a bunch more of questions. I could tell that Mr. Cheese meant well and really wanted me to be there but I just don't know if I could live up to the ex-girlfriend. I'm not a Cambridge Anthropology student and I don't have a high flying career or even anything that exciting about me I don't think so I don't know how his family will see me when compared to her. Besides you can't just invite a 'new friend' to spend Christmas with the possible in-laws. There has to be a title - Another thing that scares me shitless! Something to be pondered upon and thought about at a later date though ...
After the meal it was yet again another Saturday evening spent in a blissful and heated passion with Mr. Cheese. Much better than our first time last week but still some more positions to test run! As a larger lady I didn't think I would approve of being on-top as a first choice of positioning but as it goes it seems like this is the best way for me to get off and Mr. Cheese doesn't seem to mind much either! It even ended with us panting into the warm atmosphere as we climaxed together and exhausted it ended with snuggles and pillow talk. After a few hours though I discovered Mr. Cheese's tickle spots and this then progressed into further sexual delight and it was at some point during this pure ecstasy that the phrase "I am a machine!" was born. Think of "I am Sparta" and your along the same sort of lines as I was thinking when I said it. Although on this occasion I was wearing a fluffy, mauve jumper and continued to wear this throughout our escapades as Mr. Cheese playfully pinned me down and continued to send me into dizzying heights. For all you that are asking ... Yes Mr. Cheese did manage the big 'O'. I think. I don't really know what one feels like so I think that's what it was. It felt good anyhow!
Upon waking early Sunday morning I realised as I faced a cool magnolia wall that I was unable to turn around for fear of melting his face off with my god-awful morning breath. In my sleepy slumber yet another great line blessed my lips. I also had to contend with the fact that I had Panda eyes due to not taking off my make-up the night before. Should have just worn a paper bag to bed really. Sexy! It was also at this point that I realized I was starkers and exclaimed "Oh dear lord I'm Naked!" to which my bed-buddies reply was a simple, breathy "So am I" whispered softly in my ear. This line still makes him chuckle. Although after much attempting to make him stay in bed and fuck once more I realised it was all in vain as he left early to meet some old Uni friends in Oxford.
So after such a manic weekend I am now left with a whole host of questions that need answering but essentially I think they have been answered already for me. In fact, I know they have! I just need to let my head know that and accept that maybe a relationship is on the cards in the future? But for now this coming week consists of celebration as I turn Twenty-Two tomorrow. Olright, don't all rush forward with your presents ...
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Hard to believe that this time last year I was still in the gloomy rainclouds of my break-up with Mr. Workaholic. A year on, with the sunshine and rainbows of last week still lingering I couldn't think of a time where I have been happier in a long while. The pestering questions are still there from last week, constantly nagging and reminding me that at some point a decision has to be made - But after the weekend I have had, I think that a special someone has already made that decision for me ...
So after a few days off work from my old job at the windscreen company I began to prepare for a lazy weekend with Mr. Cheese as well as my fast approaching first day in the new role as an office junior in the finance sector. The Tweedles and I had planned a night out on the tiles at a gay bar but unfortunately Miss Tweedle-Dumb was involved in a car accident on the way home from work. Thankfully everyone was OK but sadly the car was not and as a result was a write off. Rest in peace 'Blu Cantrell' the Corsa. Nevertheless I was glad to have the Friday evening to prepare myself for a day (and even more so an evening) with Mr. Cheese. And so the pampering, preening and all-round de-fuzz was to commence!
At just gone eleven in the morning I was greeted with a wide smile, a hug and an unexpected kiss from Mr. Cheese as he rocked up in his cute blue car and away we went. First on the agenda for the day was a walk around the countryside just outside of Bedford in his home village. Trundling down the country back road's I could hear his nerves showing in the way he drove and I tried my best to be as still and as silent so as not to make his disposition worse. As we approached his village he went on to explain his younger brother's eighteenth the previous evening and how all the family had arrived to celebrate. I didn't really need an answer to the next question I was about to ask because as Mr. Cheese pulled the tiny car into the farm lane on which he lived outside the balloon adorned house was several cars. Not only this but the vehicle's were also accompanied by their owners and passengers. The Family! They hadn't left as early as Mr. Cheese had hoped and now I was about to meet the potential in-laws! There was Grandma's and Uncle's and Aunt's and Cousin's. Alot to take in but as the engine was switched off and the driver's door was opened I knew I had to make an impression; And a good one at that.
Stepping out of the car onto the wet gravel I walked toward Mr. Cheese, slightly nervous and anxious about being thrust into the limelight. I enjoyed knowing that this was maybe the start of something a little more serious than a couple of dates and secret nights spent in each others arms. I was introduced as 'Abbey' and before Mr. Cheese even had the chance to give me a dreaded label I said hello and politely waved. Seconds later everyone left and I could breath easy. Until that is I took not of the abode we were at. A beautiful family home set in wild countryside and with modern extensions but still keeping a oldy-worldy vibe. Staring at the front door and the scenery surrounding it I couldn't have though of a more idealistic and perfect family home. Shushing my own thoughts of future family and pushing them aside Mr. Cheese apologised and swiftly welcomed me in. The inside was just as mind-blowing as the exterior. I wouldn't have been able to imagine such perfection and quaintness if I tried. Several reception rooms, a large beautiful garden adorned with flowers and a secret vegetable patch as well as a glorious kitchen and lounge for entertaining. I couldn't have dreamt it any nicer.
After once again fighting the urge to flap about his parents house we decided to have a warm cuppa before heading out on our walk. After finishing up and popping everything in the sink we went to out our shoes on. But what was that. I heard foot steps on the landing. Youngest of all four brothers was up and like Batman himself hoofed down the stairs only to be greeted by a strange lady with purple-hair and wearing a dungaree dress. I said hello. It was only polite. After making very, very small talk with the teenager Mr. Cheese and I held hands as we walked the country lanes and farm land surrounding his majestic home. Carefully manoeuvring our way across muddy fields I felt like I was a kid again; Laughing and giggling without a care in the world. Just me and my Mr.Cheese!
Once we had reached a beauty spot we turned to look out over the hills towards Bedford itself watching it rise in the chilly weekend sunshine. Turning to me we began to cuddle and it wasn't long before we started to make idle chit-chat. Now after my awfully embarrassing stint on the box with regards to the dating show I went on in May/June I have since been blessed with the pet name 'Lemon Lady'. I think it's cute and says alot about both our personalities. All of a sudden though, as if I hadn't had enough shock for the day so far I think I heard some frightening but very romantically sweet words escape from Mr. Cheese's soft and kissable lips.After pulling me into his torso for a snuggle he made what seemed to me to be a passing comment. A simple gesture of appreciation. "I love you Lemon Lady" Mr. Cheese said through hushed tones. I heard it though. We both did. Or did we? Did I? Did he just say the 'L' word in a round about way? Oh goodness! A little speechless I lay against his warm body as he stroked my hair. As the silence set in I knew that there would be more questions to add to the growing list!
Arriving back at Mr. Cheese's family home I was greeted by his other older brother and again sat down for some more tea before once again heading off out for a potter around some local shops and coffee shops. Returning to the house simply to drop off the car we had a brief chat with the brothers about football and I stood there pretending to know what they were on about. But then the door went and in walks the king and queen of the palace! Mother and Father. Shortly followed by the birthday boy himself after visiting a university together. Smiling and wide-eyed I tried my hardest not to be terrified of meeting the people who probably meant the most to Mr. Cheese. They seemed wonderful, loving and warm people and as I left that afternoon I was hoped to been seen again from Mumma Cheese. I took it with a pinch of salt and tried not to think about the future in too much detail. Best not to get your hopes up in these situations unless they come tumbling down.
Then it was back to mine for what was meant to be a relaxing film before dinner out at a fancy restaurant. Safe to say that the film was never shown but I had starters before we even left my flat. Cheeky I know but that is the one thing that I enjoy doing to a lover. Going down on someone can be hard for alot of girls and women out there, hell I was once one of them - Terrified of the 'S or S' situation as well as the taste and the whole issue of fellatio. But for Mr. Cheese it's much more than just 'giving head'. The trembles and quivers make it all worth it, not to mention the way it send shivers down my own spine. Besides compared to the rest of my previous Don Juan's, Mr. Cheese is by far the tastiest of all my meals!
After dinner I went to the bathroom only to discover something horrifying! I wont mention what but it was scary and could well have ruined the evenings entertainment but I am glad to say that it was just a blip (no pun intended) and all is well. Just to be on the safe side, it was done with the lights off just in case Aunt Urma did make an unwelcome appearance between the sheets. Returning to the table Mr. Cheese continued conversation and somehow we got around to the subject of Christmas, especially what with being less than a hundred days to go! Once more the shock train hit me, but this time at a much higher speed and one that has left me pondering and stressing about this since it was first bairn. Through hushed voices and nervous mumbles Mr. Cheese asked me to join him and his family for Christmas away visiting more family in a snowy picturesque part of the North-East England. As romantically beautiful as it is the idea of being away from my own family at such an important time of year brings about a bunch more of questions. I could tell that Mr. Cheese meant well and really wanted me to be there but I just don't know if I could live up to the ex-girlfriend. I'm not a Cambridge Anthropology student and I don't have a high flying career or even anything that exciting about me I don't think so I don't know how his family will see me when compared to her. Besides you can't just invite a 'new friend' to spend Christmas with the possible in-laws. There has to be a title - Another thing that scares me shitless! Something to be pondered upon and thought about at a later date though ...
After the meal it was yet again another Saturday evening spent in a blissful and heated passion with Mr. Cheese. Much better than our first time last week but still some more positions to test run! As a larger lady I didn't think I would approve of being on-top as a first choice of positioning but as it goes it seems like this is the best way for me to get off and Mr. Cheese doesn't seem to mind much either! It even ended with us panting into the warm atmosphere as we climaxed together and exhausted it ended with snuggles and pillow talk. After a few hours though I discovered Mr. Cheese's tickle spots and this then progressed into further sexual delight and it was at some point during this pure ecstasy that the phrase "I am a machine!" was born. Think of "I am Sparta" and your along the same sort of lines as I was thinking when I said it. Although on this occasion I was wearing a fluffy, mauve jumper and continued to wear this throughout our escapades as Mr. Cheese playfully pinned me down and continued to send me into dizzying heights. For all you that are asking ... Yes Mr. Cheese did manage the big 'O'. I think. I don't really know what one feels like so I think that's what it was. It felt good anyhow!
Upon waking early Sunday morning I realised as I faced a cool magnolia wall that I was unable to turn around for fear of melting his face off with my god-awful morning breath. In my sleepy slumber yet another great line blessed my lips. I also had to contend with the fact that I had Panda eyes due to not taking off my make-up the night before. Should have just worn a paper bag to bed really. Sexy! It was also at this point that I realized I was starkers and exclaimed "Oh dear lord I'm Naked!" to which my bed-buddies reply was a simple, breathy "So am I" whispered softly in my ear. This line still makes him chuckle. Although after much attempting to make him stay in bed and fuck once more I realised it was all in vain as he left early to meet some old Uni friends in Oxford.
So after such a manic weekend I am now left with a whole host of questions that need answering but essentially I think they have been answered already for me. In fact, I know they have! I just need to let my head know that and accept that maybe a relationship is on the cards in the future? But for now this coming week consists of celebration as I turn Twenty-Two tomorrow. Olright, don't all rush forward with your presents ...
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Tuesday, 28 May 2013
Another Bank Holiday Survived ...
Hi,
Another week and another Bank Holiday has been lived through yet again. To think that the next one wont be until August! This fact makes me sad. I have however been a very busy bunny and have got lots to tell you so I shall crack on.
So just after last week's 'episode' I got a text from the lovely Mr. Accent pampering my ego by saying how much he enjoyed reading. To be honest I am a little shocked he actually could be bothered to read it, I'm still trying to get over the fact that you guys find my life so interesting to tune in every week as well, but thanks nevertheless. Talking about how I had made Mr. Accent feel better about himself and boosted his confidence put a smile on my face and made my own head double in size.
Friday soon rolled round and after I had bid a farewell to the parents I knew it was time to party. Before I I knew it though, I was working with Miss Tweedle-Dumb behind the bar at a local bar for a party hosted in aid of a children's charity. Less than two hours in and already there was a fight. I should have seen it coming to be fair; more guys than girls, access to alcohol and pheromones bouncing left, right and centre - It was bound to happen. But as I watched safely from behind the bar while the fists were flying, Miss Tweedle-Dumb got stuck in there trying to break it all up. After giving the host a second chance to redeem both the event and her guests Miss Tweedle-Dumb and I reopened the bar and proceeded on with the evening. Until that is when, twenty minute later, the same thug made another surprise appearance. On entering the room he walked up to the bar, his footsteps getting faster as he started to make a run-up. Jumping onto the bar he looked dead into my eyes, his steely glaze frozen me to the spot and I knew that I wasn't to get in the way of him and his violent intentions. Grabbing a glass from underneath the bar he jumped down and calmly quick-paced back the way he had come separating the crowds of party-goers. As the lights came on and the music stopped once more the tinkle of glass could be heard as the trouble-maker smashed the stolen glass off the edge of a sideboard. Yells, screams and shouts were to follow as well as lots of tears and unhappy faces. The party was over. On the plus side though Miss Tweedle-Dumb and I got an earlier night and were back home drinking Hot Chocolate and gossipping by midnight.
Rising early on Saturday I decided to join Miss Chocolate for some retail therapy and spent more than I probably would like to admit. Soon though I realised that I had run out of time and with my bags full to bursting and my purse lightening I raced to the station to catch the train back home. Arriving home I flopped onto the sofa, bags and all. I knew that the girls would be here any moment and so I rushed around the house hanging up banners, sticking up decorations and planning party games like pin the tail on the donkey and pass the parcel, even spray painting the cake gold and sticking a unicorn on top. Anyone would have thought it was a kids birthday party but no, this was Miss Tweedle-Dumb's 21st birthday celebration and I was the host. I wanted everything to be perfect and it was. Everyone ended up having a brilliant time and the night ended with Miss Tweedle-Dumb receiving a lap-dance from none other than yours truly - The things you do for the ones you love, eh?
Following a calming and relaxing lunch with the gang on Sunday and meeting Miss Tweedle-Dumb's boyfriend for the second time in their nearly three year relationship, we all went back to my parent's house for cocktails in the late afternoon sun. After coming to no resolutions in regards to what we should all do on the last day of the bank holiday, everyone left and once again I rushed around like a headless chicken getting ready for a night out on the tiles with Miss Chocolate - And what a night that was! Slurping down the rest of the cocktail I had concocted, Little old me made my way to the station and boarded the next train into town. Meeting Miss Chocolate, we made our way towards the smells, sounds and lights of the town I used to call 'Home'. Once we had paid the unreasonable fee to enter the nightclub we realised that this was not going to be as fun as our Friday night in Frodsham (See Friday Night In Frodsham). Although at one point during the evening I became terrified when a young, black male approached me from behind and started to 'Bump and Grind' on me as Miss Chocolate put it, but I see it as a violation of my derriere. Later on in the evening whilst switching DJ's, I was happily minding my own business until a song came blasting from the speakers, and, for no apparent reason I started to cry. Other than the fact that the lyrics and song itself cast me back to happier times with my once perfect, Mr. Workaholic, I couldn't see any reason as to why I was standing in the middle of the dance floor surrounded by mildly attractive men and sobbing hard into Miss Chocolates shoulders whilst she comforted me. Upon coming up for air, a very nice girl stopped and gave me a hug. Whilst wiping away my tears she said to be happy and not to cry as he wasn't worth it. It is at that moment I promised myself I shall never shed a tear over the dud that is Mr. Workaholic. Pushing these facts aside we partied well into the early hours and I returned home whilst the sun was coming up.
With less than three-hours sleep though I was woken by Miss Tweedle-Dee proclaiming that we were going to do something with the day and that I need to get out of bed and be ready as soon as possible. Soon after that, Miss Tweedle-Dumb called and said that she was coming to pick me up so we could begin our day out. And so the weekend was finished with a walk in the local countryside topped off with the afternoon sitting in a small cafe by a canal lock not far from where Mr. Workaholic and I used to live. Whilst indulging ourselves in a very British tea and cake session, Miss Tweedle-Dee, Miss Tweedle-Dumb and I planned for what we would need to take on our holiday.
With the rainy days that have followed the bank holiday and with less than a week to go, I find myself writing this post thinking that this time next week I shall hopefully be writing to you from a warmer climate somewhere on the island of Majorca.
'Til next time, Love A.Lou :) xx
Another week and another Bank Holiday has been lived through yet again. To think that the next one wont be until August! This fact makes me sad. I have however been a very busy bunny and have got lots to tell you so I shall crack on.
So just after last week's 'episode' I got a text from the lovely Mr. Accent pampering my ego by saying how much he enjoyed reading. To be honest I am a little shocked he actually could be bothered to read it, I'm still trying to get over the fact that you guys find my life so interesting to tune in every week as well, but thanks nevertheless. Talking about how I had made Mr. Accent feel better about himself and boosted his confidence put a smile on my face and made my own head double in size.
Friday soon rolled round and after I had bid a farewell to the parents I knew it was time to party. Before I I knew it though, I was working with Miss Tweedle-Dumb behind the bar at a local bar for a party hosted in aid of a children's charity. Less than two hours in and already there was a fight. I should have seen it coming to be fair; more guys than girls, access to alcohol and pheromones bouncing left, right and centre - It was bound to happen. But as I watched safely from behind the bar while the fists were flying, Miss Tweedle-Dumb got stuck in there trying to break it all up. After giving the host a second chance to redeem both the event and her guests Miss Tweedle-Dumb and I reopened the bar and proceeded on with the evening. Until that is when, twenty minute later, the same thug made another surprise appearance. On entering the room he walked up to the bar, his footsteps getting faster as he started to make a run-up. Jumping onto the bar he looked dead into my eyes, his steely glaze frozen me to the spot and I knew that I wasn't to get in the way of him and his violent intentions. Grabbing a glass from underneath the bar he jumped down and calmly quick-paced back the way he had come separating the crowds of party-goers. As the lights came on and the music stopped once more the tinkle of glass could be heard as the trouble-maker smashed the stolen glass off the edge of a sideboard. Yells, screams and shouts were to follow as well as lots of tears and unhappy faces. The party was over. On the plus side though Miss Tweedle-Dumb and I got an earlier night and were back home drinking Hot Chocolate and gossipping by midnight.
Rising early on Saturday I decided to join Miss Chocolate for some retail therapy and spent more than I probably would like to admit. Soon though I realised that I had run out of time and with my bags full to bursting and my purse lightening I raced to the station to catch the train back home. Arriving home I flopped onto the sofa, bags and all. I knew that the girls would be here any moment and so I rushed around the house hanging up banners, sticking up decorations and planning party games like pin the tail on the donkey and pass the parcel, even spray painting the cake gold and sticking a unicorn on top. Anyone would have thought it was a kids birthday party but no, this was Miss Tweedle-Dumb's 21st birthday celebration and I was the host. I wanted everything to be perfect and it was. Everyone ended up having a brilliant time and the night ended with Miss Tweedle-Dumb receiving a lap-dance from none other than yours truly - The things you do for the ones you love, eh?
Following a calming and relaxing lunch with the gang on Sunday and meeting Miss Tweedle-Dumb's boyfriend for the second time in their nearly three year relationship, we all went back to my parent's house for cocktails in the late afternoon sun. After coming to no resolutions in regards to what we should all do on the last day of the bank holiday, everyone left and once again I rushed around like a headless chicken getting ready for a night out on the tiles with Miss Chocolate - And what a night that was! Slurping down the rest of the cocktail I had concocted, Little old me made my way to the station and boarded the next train into town. Meeting Miss Chocolate, we made our way towards the smells, sounds and lights of the town I used to call 'Home'. Once we had paid the unreasonable fee to enter the nightclub we realised that this was not going to be as fun as our Friday night in Frodsham (See Friday Night In Frodsham). Although at one point during the evening I became terrified when a young, black male approached me from behind and started to 'Bump and Grind' on me as Miss Chocolate put it, but I see it as a violation of my derriere. Later on in the evening whilst switching DJ's, I was happily minding my own business until a song came blasting from the speakers, and, for no apparent reason I started to cry. Other than the fact that the lyrics and song itself cast me back to happier times with my once perfect, Mr. Workaholic, I couldn't see any reason as to why I was standing in the middle of the dance floor surrounded by mildly attractive men and sobbing hard into Miss Chocolates shoulders whilst she comforted me. Upon coming up for air, a very nice girl stopped and gave me a hug. Whilst wiping away my tears she said to be happy and not to cry as he wasn't worth it. It is at that moment I promised myself I shall never shed a tear over the dud that is Mr. Workaholic. Pushing these facts aside we partied well into the early hours and I returned home whilst the sun was coming up.
With less than three-hours sleep though I was woken by Miss Tweedle-Dee proclaiming that we were going to do something with the day and that I need to get out of bed and be ready as soon as possible. Soon after that, Miss Tweedle-Dumb called and said that she was coming to pick me up so we could begin our day out. And so the weekend was finished with a walk in the local countryside topped off with the afternoon sitting in a small cafe by a canal lock not far from where Mr. Workaholic and I used to live. Whilst indulging ourselves in a very British tea and cake session, Miss Tweedle-Dee, Miss Tweedle-Dumb and I planned for what we would need to take on our holiday.
With the rainy days that have followed the bank holiday and with less than a week to go, I find myself writing this post thinking that this time next week I shall hopefully be writing to you from a warmer climate somewhere on the island of Majorca.
'Til next time, Love A.Lou :) xx
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