Love is infectious ... but so is Coronavirus!

Heyy, 

Pressing send I knew it was official. There was no coming back from it or pretending this wasn't happening. Certainly, no going back the idea, I was positive that the next few days and weeks, explaining the story over and over again would get tiring, however no more tiring than what Mr Warehouse and I were going through. 

Coming back from Newquay and our Cornwall adventures had not been easy and with Boris' new announcement released last week which finally included some information on the hundreds of thousands of couples due to be getting married this year, still hadn't helped us muddle through the mess of trying to wed in 2020.

Drafted on the basis of the all-important and rather elusive scientific evidence, since 4 July in England weddings can now take place with up to 30 guests and from 1 August, "small wedding receptions will be able to take place" the UK Government announced. For us however crunching the numbers it, in short, meant no singing, no choir (namely in our circumstances due to age and health issues which would consider them in a COVID-vulnerable category, not to mention being unable to learn 2 new songs by the time our day rolled around). It also means for us that it would not even be 30 people as we need to include in that group our photographer, videographer, Reverand and at least 2 witnesses. It gets even worse when you start to think about the "reception" (if you can even call it that more like a glorified dinner out) and again we would need to include photographer, videographer, bar staff & waiting staff, taking our total down to even less. We calculated just 19 people could come to our special day.  

Arriving at the church Mr Warehouse and I was excited to see the Reverand again and chat wedding stuff. However, on walking in we instantly noticed the socially distanced chairs, podded up in pairs. There was no aisle. There were no flowers. There was just a coldness to it all. Seating ourselves we caught up on small talk before heading into the nitty-gritty of it all. Discussing through the options available to us it very quickly dawned on me that our conversations would not be based on flowers and readings. 

"I know this is a shock to see the church this way," the Reverand started, "however I wanted you to see it as it stands now, with no more restrictions being lifted what the absolute worst-case scenario looks like." I felt panicked. I now had to be a big girl and face what I had been dreading for months. Along with Mr Warehouse I agreed and admitted that for far too long maybe now I have been burying my head in the sand and pretending it will all blow over, all whilst in the double knowledge that within the next few weeks we would need to be having this chat anyway. 

As Mr Warehouse spoke of guests and the meaning of the wedding to him he touched on a point that had nearly set me off crying. I was close but held it back as my future husband asked openly if I would have been OK with the photos and wedding film of our special day just including twenty pairs of eyes, masks and a socially distanced congregation. Holding it together (just about) I thought about what that would look like and for the hundreds of pounds we were spending on capturing our day I didn't like the idea of looking back on them and watching the footage crying sad tears over happy ones because of the circumstances. 

"May I say a prayer for you both?" the Reverand asked. Again agreeing (because what else are you meant to do we were asking to get married in this ladies office, God's house - And to be fair, we needed every damned prayer we could get) we bowed our heads and Mr Warehouse even put his hands together. 

As the Reverand started I could hear in her voice the searching for positive words and something to envoke encouragement and some sort of solace. But as she began to talk of strength through difficult times I knew I couldn't hold it in no more. Silently the tears started to fall from my cheeks, rolling down into my double-chin crease. "Pull yourself together women, there are many other reasons to cry in church; Weddings, Funerals, Christingal when you get an orange and all raisins - This is not one of them," I thought to myself, knowing any moment she would stop talking and I would have to look up and then everyone would know I had been crying. And when that happened it was like a biblical flood all by itself. 

Fetching a box of tissues, I was consoled by both the Reverand and Mr Warehouse as the waves of emotions drowned me. My fiance and I had to really start adulting and make some tough choices. 

"Now if this is what you are both happy with then I am happy but I would hate for you to wake up the morning after and think that you could have done it differently" the Reverand kindly finished with as she waved us out of the grounds with the suggestion of a bottle of the good stuff (I know a godly woman suggesting we drink?!) but with the next few days filled with more normal social activities and things to do that conversation would have to be put on ice. Driving home we both agreed to wait until Sunday and we could talk properly then with no disruptions or distractions. 

Sunday soon rolled around and after much deliberation (and nearly two-bottles of Rose in the local pub beer garden) we agreed that what we were asking for was too much for the government to lift restrictions too. For us to be happy to go ahead with our October 2020 wedding we would need the guest count goes up to above 80/80 (up to 80 for the ceremony and the same for a wedding breakfast) plus being allowed to have sing in church as well as an evening reception with DJ and disco. With this, we could have continued with the plans as they are, albeit on a reduced number of guests for our semi-normal COVID wedding. 

If we were to wait as we wanted to until the end of August to make our decision there was going to be no hen or stag do, and to be honest no real guarantee of the wedding we wanted and planned for. On further reflection of schools reopening, pubs and restaurants reopening, shops reopening and the dreaded face mask/covering debacle (hold out for another blog post on this one) all having their announcements pretty much 14-days before the due date it was something we just couldn't hold out that long for. 

And so it was with a heavy (and rather sozzled heart) that we took the decision to reach out to suppliers and vendors in anticipation of the foreboding announcement to ascertain the costs involved in postponing and what availability there was so Mr Warehouse and I could become more accustomed to a back-up date so as to not seem so catastrophically heartbreaking when we did have to make the ultimate decision. With most of our suppliers offering a range of dates, all of them pretty much had confirmed our suspicions that they would move us free of charge. In fact, many of them were honest enough to say that since we were one of the last bookings in their calendar for weddings this year, they had sadly been awaiting a call like this from us. With only our photographer able to do accommodate one date between March and September 2021 it made the choice easy to whittle down as there was little selection. 

And so the email has been sent, updates given, paperwork amended and contract redrafted. Postponement announcements in the post (as of tomorrow) wedding guests will be informed that my east favourite C-Word ruined our plans and that whilst shit happens ... Our new wedding date is June 2021!

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

Getting Hitched!

Hi everyone, 

Sitting there in the darkened corner of the dancefloor I watched as the bride and groom skitted across the parquet flooring watched by all their family and friends I thought about how that would be me one day. As Mr Warehouse sat beside me I could tell he too was getting emotional as their children joined them in their union to become a family once again and that was it. Hearts stopped! As my fiance and I joined the happy newlyweds on the dance floor surrounded by twinkling lights and disco music we thought about how our day would be. With less than eighteen months ago it was certainly whizzing by in a flash. 

What with Vivienne being a right off and getting a new car, as well as work and social life, planning our special day, was put slightly on the backburner and it had been some weeks since I had checked our emails. Having a little peak in the inbox I realised that we had yet to try and secure our caterer and after a meeting with him at the Stagsden Village Hall where we will have our reception and our wedding breakfast, we have yet to hear back from him. 

Mr Warehouse and I had indulged in wedding planning and had booked the bar, the ceremony and the reception venue. I had researched into the perfect dress and been to try quite a few on too. My fiance had looked into suits and I think we have a colour scheme in mind. The flower-girl has met her dress and demanded her shoes to match ( as it should) and the mother of the groom outfit has already been chosen. 

But there is still so much more left to plan. The wedding planning website "Hitched.co.uk" says that when it comes to wedding planning there’s no right or wrong way to do it. However, there is a simple way to organise your wedding planning tasks that’ll reduce your stress levels and ensure you actually enjoy this exciting time!

One of the websites top tips is to create a budget - And stick to it! Like most couples, we sat down together and had an open discussion about finances and realistically after buying a house and managing debts, how much we could both afford and how to save over the coming years and months. Unlike some newly engaged couples, we are not fortunate enough for our parents or other family members to help pay for the wedding, and I think to be fair I wouldn't want them getting involved financially as it becomes a bit too messy in terms of who is paying for what and when and how much. This is our special day and we will finance this on our own. 

When it comes to wedding inspo, "Hitched.co.uk" has got you covered with their helpful website and suggests making mood boards to gain a theme or style. There are so many sources of inspiration out there which can make everything a bit overwhelming sometimes, so I choose one medium and have stuck with it. You can’t beat Pinterest – it’s a great way to gather ideas and create boards for each aspect of your wedding. The great thing I love about Pinterest is that you can collect all of the table décor, dress, cake, photo ideas all in one place that takes your fancy, and I can share them with friends and family, although Mr Warehouse doesn't love it as much as I do. The social media platform comes into its own when getting closer to the big day as I can ping across ideas and thoughts to suppliers when the time comes for a better understanding of what I want and how I want it!

Another tip from the wedding planning website is that before the hunt for the venue begins, the Bride and Groom should sit down together and talk about what wanted from the wedding venue and this is certainly something we chose to do very early on in our wedding planning process. Nothing else could ah[[en until we found it. And so we searched and searched but nothing was perfect enough. Mr. Warehouse and I knew we needed somewhere fairly sizable as our wedding party would be at least seventy. We ideally wanted some outside space to enjoy the hopefully warm setting sun and space for the kids to exhaust themselves. A bonus would have been a separate area for dinner and dancing but not essential. A bar would have been nice as well as some additional space for a quiet moment whereas parking and accommodation nearby was a must. Luckily we found most of it all in the Stagsden Village Hall. 

Some more helpful advice from "Hitched.co.uk"  was about the wedding party and choosing well. Now I instantly knew who my bridesmaids would be and wanted to ask Mr. Warehouse Neice, the only little girl in both our families if she would like to be my flower girl. However, Mr Warehouse had a bit of a harder time choosing between his brothers as who would be Best Man and so just settled and chose both. My advice would be if you’re not sure then don’t feel rushed into your decision. Think carefully about who will be the best people to support you and your fiance on your special day and in the run-up to it.  You may also want to consider the cost as your bridal party will need outfits, bouquets, buttonholes and thank you gifts, so the more people you have, the more this could impact your budget.  They will be in your photo's on your mantlepiece forever so be sure to make a wise choice. 

There are so many more decisions to make, most of the ones I talked about both Mr. Warehouse and I have already done, and more. Here's hoping that the next few weeks I can get the catering sorted and maybe even onto some more exciting things!

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx 

New Year, New Me and All That Bollocks!

Hello Dears!

Happy New Year 2016! I hope that your New Years was as manic and amazing as mine, although maybe some of you would prefer the Non-Alcoholic-Mocktail version since I have pretty much drank enough beer, wine and spirits to sink the Titanic. 

Suffice to say though that I have had a very relaxing Christmas and New Year. Crazy and very busy at times but more often than not I found myself smiling and laughing with everyone around me. Most of the days I have had off from work on my shut-down, I am not proud to say, I spent in front of the Telly chowing down on the mountain of chocolate I got rather than visiting friends and family. But that is something I need to work on next year: Seeing more friends and family in those lazy days between Christmas and New coming year. Hopefully though I will be in my very own little car and be on the road by then, although I feel this is an incredibly optimistic stance on what is shaping up to already be a very busy year. 

Although before I commenced 2016 I was found spending the last few days of 2015 hanging out in the Bedfordshire Countryside with Mr. Warehouse and his doggy, going for walkies (even if they were just down to the local shops for yet more food!) as well as that one, somewhat productive day, when Mr. Warehouse and I went shopping and yet spent no money at all after having a wonderful time catching up with my family at a local Costa Coffee (yes, I know I betrayed Starbs but it was the families choice not mine!). 

But as New Years Eve rolled around I still had no set plans. So when head of Mr. Warehouse's family called for everyone to come down to the local social club for a few then who was I to say no, especially when there is a DJ and the potential to sneak in your own alcohol! Which I might add that Myself nor Momma Warehouse had any involvement in doing - Those miniatures were there already! 

Sat at the kitchen table, workstations (designated areas of a room to get ready for a night out in AKA drinking/refill stations, make-up stations, hair stations, ect) inadvertently already set up in every corner of the room we had finished the fun of dolling up ourselves and with half hour to spare Mr. Warehouse, Momma Warehouse and I thought it would be a good idea to play a drinking game. Unfortunately I forgot to bring my Cards Against Humanity game and so we got by with drinking our overly boozed beverages every time we heard the title to any song. First on the list? The aptly named 'Shots' by LMFAO. This was a disaster! around 70 times that bloody song has the word 'Shots' in it! Wasted by the time our lift arrived, queue Momma Warehouse and I falling into the local shop to get some cash out and buy cigarettes and then diving back into the car before anyone could see how pissed we were already! 

Walking into the venue we realised whilst we were not the only ones seated around the dance-floor, we were certainly all related in one way or another. It was like a family/work reunion with some family faces from both the office, warehouse and Mr. Warehouse's family. Near enough downing a few Screwdrivers (Orange Juice and Vodka) I hit the wooden floor, covered by this point in lazers, strobes and fog. Although it wasn't long before a few little faces made it into my personal space and started trying to play a god awful game of 'Tag - Your It'. I soon quietened their pre-pubescent selves with a little Macarena and Cha-Cha-Slide therapy and a strict "No! I'm drinking and getting wasted now - Go away children!" and that seemed to do the just the trick. 

Count down beginning I thought back to last New Years 2014/2015 and realised that at this precise moment I was either in the toilet or in a muddle puddle at the bottom of a children's slide missing the countdown. This year however I was in the middle of the dance floor, dancing with my dearest Mr. Warehouse, his family and our friends surrounding us and as we began to count backwards I suddenly became scared and anxious about what the next year would bring me and my life. Over the next year I plan to learn to drive, buy a car, go on a few more nice holidays and even maybe a few other surprises! As the DJ stopped to ring out the bells of Big Ben in London I felt overwhelmed and as I was pulled in for a loving hug by my boyfriend I felt more excited and happy than I think I ever felt. Squeezing each other tight we didn't let go. But eventually we were prised apart by Momma Warehouse yelling at her son to "Get down to one fucking knee and propose to the poor girl already!" Ahh yes, she was slightly sozzled bless her little miniature bottles ... I mean heart! Laughing it off as normal we went around everyone in the pub that night wishing them and their friends and families to come a very Happy and healthy New year and to make 2016 an even better one! 

Waking up the next morning with a fuzzy mouth and an achey head I took some time at breakfast with Mr. Warehouse and Momma Warehouse to look back on the previous evenings activities. Starting the evening with selfies and cute close-ups, I had ended my evening sitting in the living room, legs a kimbo, Labrador on my lap and my fake eyelashes now off and stuck underneath my nose in a very unorthodox salute to a tyrannical leader of 1940's Germany! 

So it seems that my new years is off to a good start and I mean to carry it on well with the coming months churning out a trip to Dublin and southern Ireland as well as a Christening in a few weeks. Spring will bring me birthdays galore and all the engagements that come with such celebrations. Summer will hopefully see me off on another rumbustious holiday with Miss Tweedle-Dee and Miss Tweedle-Dumb as well as a wedding with Mr. Warehouse and his family down in Newquay and a new baby will be arriving sometime in the summer, making Mr. Warehouse an Uncle for the fourth time. September will bring about yours-truely and her special day and then into the winter months I plan to spend some time travelling cold, snowy Europe before passing my test and buy a car so that Christmas and New Years 2016 can be just that little easier logistically. 

So my New Years Resolutions are as follows I am hoping you have a successful time as me:
1. Get up off the couch, put down the Cadburys and Cheetos and get to a more happier size. Whilst I realise that every year I say "get into a size 12 by Christmas" I actually want to do it. Well at least I want to think about it anyway?!
2. Save enough money by working unsociable and unhappy hours at the call-centre so I can learn to drive and buy a car ergo ensuing many more adventures, places to see and things to do. 
3. Finally face up to the fact that I am, at some point, going to have to let Mr. Warehouse move in with me. 
4. Try and go on more holidays and work out where else in the world I can go that isn't going to cost me an entire years salary. 
5. And on the subject of money ... Get more of it!

A Happy and Safe New Year 2016! 

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

Royalty, Romance and Relationships

Hello, 

Well firstly thank you to everyone who made my birthday so special. Weather it was birthday messages or spending quality time with the Queen herself (Me!) and I would just like to tell you all how appreciated it was to have you share my day. So much better than last year. Now all that soppiness is over and done with there is pressing matters to be dealt with and much gossip that must be told so on with the show!

As the sun set on the evening of my twenty-second year on this planet and with Miss Tweedle-Dumb, Miss Tweeedle-Dee and Miss Stuu close behind I strut my stuff down the wobbly pavements of town . I could see him. Fluffy, Beatles hair cut, jeans and a smart blazer. Mr. Cheese was waiting for me and my entourage. Just as I finished the introductions Miss Chocolate arrived from parking the car and again the meet and greet began. Nausea taking a hold of me, we made our way into the restaurant and sat down. Softly touching my thigh Mr. Cheese lent over as everyone was busy reading their menu's and shuffled a envelope towards my pile of presents and cards my friends had bestowed upon me. Whispering in my ear he told me that I would have my presents on Sunday when he planned to take me on a surprise day out somewhere special. Lightly and swiftly kissing me on the cheek he turned to his menu too. Think he had got away with a cheeky peck in front of my friends I smiled to myself, but everyone had seen I was sure. After ordering food came the presents. Cards first and I saved Mr. Cheese's for last. Not expecting anything at all I opened the card and read some sweet verse and then the sign off. Love! Mr. Cheese signed my card with love. Yeah, I totally didn't read into that too much! Not ...


Once the presents were unwrapped and I discovered the Tweedle's had bought me some make-up and an Ice-Cream Maker and Miss Chocolate a muffin stand the conversation swiftly moved to deeper waters. As the girls interacted with him he seemed at ease discussing with them anecdotes of school life and sharing stories of when we were all younger. In between conversing about topical subjects I would catch Mr. Cheese looking at me so fondly I started to melt. Glancing over I could see in his eyes that maybe. No, defiantly this was the start of something special and romantic. Talk continued but I could tell with the looks that everyone else was giving me around the table, I wasn't the only one to notice Mr. Cheese's admiring stares. So much fun was had it was soon realised that we had spent nearly three hours in the restaurant. As it was midweek I suggested that we all made a move.

After waving goodbye to Miss Chocolate we all bundled into Miss Tweedle-Dumb's new car called Christian and headed back to my place. Trundling upstairs with all my presents I was glad to be home and whilst Mr. Cheese, Miss Stuu and I giggling at photo's on my wall I heard singing coming from the hallway when all of a sudden I was presented with a massive chocolate cake (think along the lines of the film 'Matilda' and you'll be on the right tracks) with two candles in the middle saying twenty-two. It was all too much. Mr. Cheese, the Girls, the nice meal, the presents and the memoirs of just twelve months ago was all so emotional that I nearly cried. I didn't but I welled up alot. After that episode everyone left me and Mr. Cheese, on the homeward bound after a long night I could understand why they wanted their beds. I did too. But for other reasons ...

After a few quiet and very tiring days in my new job I was looking forward to the weekend although I knew it would be busy. Finally Saturday arrived and it was time to get my party on! Miss Tweedle-Dumb, Miss Tweedle-Dee, Miss Pea (a friend of the Tweedle's and mine) and Miss Stuu all arrived and as the sun went down the bottle came up. Playing drinking games with a pack of 1970's style porn cards and taking shots in between doing hair, make-up and getting dressed was what a standard night out began with. 

Arriving at the Town Centre we headed straight for a local bar and then onto a Club. The atmosphere was hot and sticky but I was already a little bit drunk and so was looking forward to more drinks with my posse. Grabbing some drinks from the bar we headed to the dance floor where me and the others broke out the moves. On the man scale, Bedford wasn't awful, but it wasn't no cock-celebration either. Although Me and Miss Stuu didn't seem to mind when we were standing on the platform in the middle of the floor surrounded by men just jumping and dancing to club anthems whilst holding onto each other for dear life in case one of us got swept away by the sea of testosterone. Everything was going so well. There was dancing and singing and Miss Tweedle-Dee even had some stick-on moustaches to make our night extra memorable. That was until the Disc-Jockey reminded me of how different it could have all been. 

A song. But not just any old song. It was mine and Mr. Workaholic's song. The one we first danced to. The one we promised to slow dance at our wedding to. The one we said we would sing lullabies to our children with. Our song. So there I was as the first few strum's of the guitar rang out across the club I looked up to the ceiling. I felt someone grab my hand and squeeze it hard as hot, painful tears spilled out over my cheeks. I looked down to see the concerned faces of my best friends. shouting at me not to cry I wiped my tears and sang along as my heart began splinter. In those few minutes that seemed like a lifetime I was reminded just how far I had come since then and how much better and stronger I am for it. Fuck him! Yeah! Fuck you Mr. Workaholic! Go eat a rattle-snake!

Falling into bed at 4.30am after a heavy night of partying and drinking with friends I drifted off to sleep between the Tweedles in my king-size bed knowing that in a matter of hours I would be in the company of Mr. Cheese. Although waking in the morning was another thing. It looked as though someone had thrown a grenade into my flat and shut the door! Safe to say that the clean up operation took sometime, but with many hands making light work it was soon spick and span. Once I had confirmation that Mr. Cheese was en-route to mine everyone scarpered except Miss Tweedle-Dumb who stopped to collect her things at a more leisurely pace which I liked. Secretly I think she wanted to see what I had got from Mr. Cheese for my birthday. Well she didn't have long to wait as I had barely put the washing on before the doorbell rang. Answering it I was thrust a massive bunch of blue, white and red flowers including roses and my favorite - Gerbera's! Shocked I took him and the flowers straight upstairs and let him meet Miss Tweedle-Dumb again before she left for her own Boyfriend's. 

After waffling for a couple of hours I opened the rest of my presents from Mr. Cheese - A beautiful Butterfly necklace (Ironically picked because of the connotations surrounding our first date) and some trinkets for my house including a romantic candle. We decided to head out into the blisteringly hot weather and have a picnic. And boy does this one know how to do picnic's. Reducing my attempts at a picnic a few weeks ago in London, Mr. Cheese pulls from the boot of his car a proper woollen blanket, fully embroidered with sheep and a Fortnum and Mason picnic hamper basket complete with cutlery and plates. Refreshments consisted of fruit, handmade sandwiches, homegrown salad, cake, juice, crisps, scotch eggs and sausage rolls. To wash it all down he provided me with a special bottle of bubbly. Romance level: Expert!

Once we had nearly died from heat-stroke we headed back to his car and made our way to my secret day out. Where too? A local Safari Park where we basically drove around looking at endangered and rare wild animals thinking out loud and discussing what they would taste like. We established that Rhino would taste nice and Ostriches would make me a nice handbag. By the time we got to the monkey's we were full on kitting ourselves our a whole wardrobe and as one primate placed himself in prime position on the windshield of the car we agreed that it would make at least one pair of slippers - Finished off with a Monkey bobble head for the toes. And before all you PETA and RSPCA guys jump on your band-wagon, don't get anal about it, we were having fun. I would never hurt a fly let alone a furry thing! Although just as a discretionary note; I have eaten Ostrich and Kangaroo. Both were very tasty!

The rest of Sunday was spent walking around the small foot-zoo making animal noises and gazing into each others eyes with only admiration. The evening was not an early one as hoped for but was laid back and as romantic as one could wish for. Finally though it seems after having a blissful week and somewhat talking to Mr, Cheese about how many questions I had, I feel that although not all of them are fully satisfied, I know that the majority of them are answered fully and can now be put to bed. Although a few questions still remain I know that in time they will be solved. 

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

And So The Battle Commences ...

Morning All,

So I am writing this earlier than usually. Quite simply two reasons. One - I am convinced that my neighbours are having sex which depresses me in so many ways as I feel that I have been now celibate for at least eight months now and that I could practically join a nunnery and become god's 'Lady in Waiting'. And number two is a dilemma which I can only see getting more and more difficult as time progresses. Firstly though before I go on I should probably start from the beginning. Yes. That would help ...

So last week was all about getting settled in and preparing for the enormous weekend ahead. Unfortunately Miss Chocolate was ill so all Friday frolics were postponed until further notice. I did however end up spending the night with Miss Tweedle-Dee and Miss Tweedle-Dumb in her room watching an old comedy film. It was suggested that after we would play a game of 'gay chicken' although I am still unsure fully of what it is all about I am pretty adamant I would win! Saturday afternoon was spent trawling round  a shopping mall darting from store to store praying that Miss Tweedle-Dumb and I would find something suitable and in our size for the Wrap Party in London later on in the evening. It had been decided early on in the week that we would just get the train home after the party. I mean its not like anything fun would happen right? Wrong ...

After frantically spending more time than originally thought getting ready and as usual I was running late, both me and Miss Tweedle-Dumb made it to the station just in time to catch the fast train. Sipping on cocktails on the way down I knew that it was going to be good night. I was looking forward to seeing all the fresh faces and enjoying the atmosphere of a high-end City bar. Upon arrival, Me and the lone Tweedle wandered to the starting Piccadilly nightclub swishing past all the people queued up and stating that my name was on the guest list I felt like a star - Even if it was for lemons, milk and mould! Shyly climbing the stairs in my sparkly golden heels I reached the top and saw it was packed out. I noticed a few faces at the bar and after having to take out a mortgage and three loans to pay for my one singular drink of the evening there I headed to find the host.

A special area had been made up specifically for the shows wrap party and I began to clock more and more faces, a few in particular I took a liking too. Soon I was mingling with the best of them and some real gems as far as people go. Then the chaos began and we headed for the next club up the road in posh Mayfair, London. Off the heels came and on went the flats to make the ten-minute commute to the next venue of choice, headed up by me and only a mapping application on my phone. Once in the chic, cosmopolitan bar I wondered where the men I had my eyes on had got too. Turning my attention back to conversation with Miss Tweedle-Dumb I could tell that whilst the night was barely getting started for me, it would very shortly be over before it had even started properly.

Descending the stairs to a smokey, seedy dance floor I was excited and enthralled by the atmosphere. granted I did feel that a sardine would have more room to move than I did at that time, but I was caught in the moment and loving every moment of it; Especially since I knew we would have to leave soon, being the last trains and all. Just before I went home though something spectacular happened! So on the dance floor was I and so was the rest of the cast and plus-ones, and after being force-fed expensive Vodka by a fetching man I headed for the exit, already well aware that Miss Tweedle-Dumb would not approve of us missing our train home, nor at the fact I had left her by herself whilst I said goodbye. But as I stepped down from the stage, and before I waded through the crowd an arm stretched out in front of me. Taking the mysterious hand although knowing whom it belonged to I fell into his arms. Now I shall not kiss and tell (and you can all take that comment on complete face value as it is true, we did have a cheeky one) but what a wonderful man I met. Now, you guys all know how I feel about accent's and this one is stunning. They are so important! Enough said although I refuse to reveal anymore as this might be en-route to somewhere since we have been in contact since.

Sunday was a lazy day. The morning was spent sleeping since me and Miss Tweedle-Dumb didn't arrive back home until four-in-the-morning. Another rushed Get-out-of-bed routine though as I realized I had less than an hour to prepare for my date with the now known Mr. Cheese. The afternoon itself was laid-back and relaxed. As planned we bought some vintage cheese and ate this in a quiet beer garden with cider and conversation as fuel for our fire. We had been chatting most evenings in the week and had finally decided to meet each other at two O'clock on Sunday afternoon, although this is where I had made a slight mistake in terms of location. You see in Bedford there is a river and on this river there are many bridges one of which they call - The Butterfly Bridge. A romantic symbol some may say, especially for a man. Something that makes you wonder why would a man choose that to be the location for meeting a date. Regardless of the philosophy behind the statement that was in itself perfectly unscripted, it does still not undermine the fact that I still managed to go to the wrong bridge. In typical 'Moi' fashion I had gone to the wrong bridge. So as ten past two arrived I came to realise that not only did I research into what the romanticised Butterfly Bridge looked like, but I also had my back to it the entire time. An omen maybe for me and Mr. Cheese?

Sunday afternoon ended as my Saturday night had as well - with a kiss. So impromptu and uninhibited Mr.Cheese swooped in whilst I was explaining something probably mundane and kissed me soft on the lips. Nothing special and no full on make-out sesh here. Just simple, sweet, innocent kisses. So very awkward as this isn't something I would usually consent to on a first date but when the arm slinks around you and there isn't anyone around to see the PDA (a Public Display of Affection - not and actual PDA; That would be weird) you feel inclined to just say yes. It was the same when we departed a sweet kiss goodbye, but not before confirming next Sunday as our second 'Date'!

Oh but yes. Here I am in the reality of my now rush-hour love life. Mr. Cheese and my Mystery man. I like both.  But I also like being single. But I also would like to have something more in terms of a relationship. But I want a life outside of one too. I never do make things easy for myself. And I always did say that there will come a time when you wait and wait and wait and then suddenly your numbers are up. But which chips do I cash in? Which one should I gamble on? I know which one I want because I cant stop thinking about it and wondering -but is it the winning ticket?

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

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

Friday Night In Frodsham ...

Evening All,

Finally in the UK we have some sunny weather and it is putting me in a better mood everyday. Waking up to the sun creeping through the window right till the moment I walk out of work into the warm breeze. Summer is defiantly not far away. But I am almost certain you don't want this edition to be about the weather, you want to know about my week; Including my weekend away with Miss Chocolate, don't you? Best not keep you waiting then ...

After a busy week and a gossipping Wednesday spent with Miss Chocolate and an old friend of ours, I reluctantly spent Thursday night in, praying that my night out with my hotel-buddy in the small village of near where we were staying wouldn't be a train crash. Instead of partying into the small hours and seeing some familiar faces I opted for a quiet night in from of the telly, regardless that I was up way past my bedtime. Friday morning, after booking the day off, I rolled over and snuggled in bed whilst I watched the sun through my window. Drifting in and out of sleep I awoke wondering what time it was and why my alarm hadn't woken me. Stumbling out of bed I went to my charging phone only to realise it was off. Shit! Have I slept in? Panicking I raced to the front bedroom where my parents had already left for work. No sign of Miss Chocolate's Car. 'She must have had some issues herself this morning' I thought. As I returned to my bedroom I realised that it was 9.30am and we should have left over an hour-and-a-half hours ago. Knowing that Miss Chocolate would be here any second I went into overdrive. Hearing my phone ring I answered. It was Miss Chocolate. She was outside. 'Ill be there in a sec' I fibbed. I wasn't even dressed yet. Throwing  on some clothes, putting my hair up and brushed my teeth furiously I got ready in a matter of minutes and was downstairs with all my stuff. After piling it all into the car and punching in the directions to the hotel we were off along the motorway which for the time of day was pretty clear. Since I had turned my dying phone on I had received a number of nasty calls and messages from Miss Tweedle-Dee and Miss Tweedle-Dumb after a pathetic argument the previous evening. The argument has still yet to be resolved, regardless of me apologising, but with my phone on a limited battery I decided to let the girls cool off over the weekend before I spoke to them. Plus it wasn't worth the effort and I wasn't going to ruin my weekend (or theirs) for the sake of some petty problem. 
 
A few hours in and the journey was getting boring listening to the same songs on the mixed-tape CD I had made especially for the journey. I noticed a convoy of military trucks along side us on the busy motorway and so I took it upon myself to have a little fun. What with my Father being ex-military himself I know a little bit about what 'squaddies' are like. As we past the first truck I blew a kiss. Stunned looks and cheeky smiles replaced bored faces in both vehicles. The second was the same. A kiss and a smirk. The third I sent a wink and again was rewarded my a coy grin. getting excited I ramped up the tempo and on the last lorry full of combat's I blew a big kiss. However I was disappointed not to receive a reaction. The flirty mood had been damped. But not for long. Seconds later a beep. I looked out the passengers window to see the boys in green pull along side us in the car to blow me a saucy kiss and a wink back! As if our weekend couldn't get better, that had just made my day. After singing and seat-dancing our way across the country we arrived at the hotel and checked in with all our luggage. Miss Chocolate and I were allowed to go up to our room straight away and instantly flopped onto our beds as soon as we were there. Relaxing after our long journey we decided to plan the rest of our day. Miss Chocolate suggested a trip to a local supermarket to collect some munchies and alcohol for the night ahead. Once we had stocked up, Miss Chocolate instructed me to get changed into some gym kit so that she could but me through my paces at the onsite gym in the hotel. Following a near death experience with something called exercise in the gym I headed to the Spa. Sauna, Steam Room and then the Jacuzzi before splashing into an empty pool with Miss Chocolate.
 
Sauntering up to mine and Miss Chocolate's room in just a towel, we began to get ready and before we had time to start pre-drinking it was time to go. Doubting the legitimacy of this so-called nightclub we were going to I clambered into the car whilst Miss Chocolate took the wheel - She wasn't drinking and so thought it best to save money and drive there. But driving past the venue slowly, looking for parking I noticed that all the lights were off and only the restraunt next-door seemed to have anything going on. Worried I expressed my concerns to Miss Chocolate but she shrugged them off and said it was going to be a good night regardless of where we were. Walking through the glass doors of the nightclub I noticed a few people already there and having a good time. There was even a few on the light-up dance-floor. As Miss Chocolate and I headed for the bar I was stolen by a well-built Northerner in a red jumper. Clearly already out of his tree I decided to humour him and went for a boogie and when he went in for a sneaky snog I graciously declined the offer! We later found out he was on his stag-do and getting married in less than three-weeks ... Defiantly a keeper.  Returning to a single Miss Chocolate at a nearby table I sat down and took the already mounting pressure of my feet. Heels might not have been the best idea tonight. As we chatted, Miss Chocolate and I realised that we were attracting some attention. I gathered it was that we were new to the 'scene' and Southerner's which made us very popular for the evening. It wasn't long before we were approached by a gentleman in a blue and white polka-dot jumper. Over the bass he explained how his friend over the other side of the dance-floor had noticed me! After clarifying with the strawberry blonde man that it was me that his friend was talking about, Mr. Dot asked me if I would allow his friend to buy me a drink. Taken aback a bit as to why someone would want t buy me a drink I agreed and being a friendly girl, and not one willing to turn down a freebie for nothing I went to meet this mystery drink-provider. To say that I was glad it was dark is an understatement but regardless it was nice to meet the guy whom I shall name as Mr. Vee. Why the alias Mr. Vee? Well, throughout the coming hours that I felt obliged to talk to him as he bought me a drink, Miss Chocolate and I realised that he was in fact a virgin. His friends, including Mr Dot started taking photos of me talking to him and texting each other saying that he had pulled. This was defiantly not the case.
 
After accepting another drink from Mr. Vee, he suggested we went outside to talk. 'If I'm not back in five minutes, start putting my face on milk cartons' I said in hushed tones to Miss Chocolate as Mr. Vee dragged me outside into the fresh night's air. Struggling to make small talk he resorted to fidgeting, obviously nervous about something. 'Can I kiss you' he suddenly blurted out. Thankfully before I got a chance to reply Mr. Dot and company arrived, chanting and hugging us both. Mr. Dot whispered something in my would-be kisser's ear and then swiftly departed. Taking my chance when I had it I went in search for Miss Chocolate back inside the warm nightclub. I found her where I had left her and we began to realise this might be a more interesting evening that I first thought. Miss Chocolate ad I were one of only a handful of women in the venue that night which made for alcohol-fuelled tension between men who were also there. Glad that I was back Miss Chocolate and I headed for the dance-floor to show these Northerners how its done. And boy did we show them! A few songs in and some outrageous dance moves later Mr. Dot reappears and begins to pester me to again allow his mate to buy me my third drink. Shouting over the music, I tried to explain that I just wasn't into him or Mr. Vee and that they needed to leave us alone. Clearly not taking the hint and desperate to get his friend laid, Mr. Dot approached and Miss Chocolate who told him right where to stick the offer. Giving in we approved the request and were left in peace for the rest of the evening by Mr. Vee and his generous ways. That is not to be said for Mr. Dot however and as the evening progressed I could see that Miss Chocolate was into him. Leaving them be I set off to find my own kill for the night.
 
Nicknamed 'The Sexy Southerners' by locals, Miss Chocolate and I danced and partied into the night. Whilst getting down to most of the song's on my home-made CD a fight suddenly broke out and as to be expected the police were called. Looking sadly at Miss Chocolate we knew that this was the end of the night as we had witnessed it a few times before back home. A fight breaks out, the police are called, the club shuts and everyone goes home sad. Well, apparently up north they do it differently and with a bloody and broken face the victim and the perpetrator were escorted away in a cop car. The music started up again and everyone trundled back inside the warmth. It didn't take us all long to get up to our old tricks again and sooner that expected Miss Chocolate and Mr.Dot were mouthing lyrics to anthems whilst I returned to my prowl. Spotting a new group to the dance foor I shuffled over smoothly and before I got a chance to 'accidently' bump into them a tall, handsome quiffed-Blondie tapped me on my shoulder and began to introduce me to his friends: A very tall male wearing a blue checked shirt and a very nice, broad gentleman with typical traits I look for in a potential catch. He had everything from the light stubble to the brown hair, the chocolate eyes, deep husky yet friendly voice and a gorgeous smile. Target Acquired!
 
Although Mr. Quiff had other ideas and tried to set me up with the last member of the group, Mr. Podge - Although Miss Chocolate likes to refer to him as Mr. Fat. Not liking the look of where this was going I steadily introduced Mr. Podge to Miss Chocolate and they hit it off immediately. Miss Chocolate could see where I was going with this and graciously took one for the team whilst I closed in on the others. Since I could locate Mr. Stubble I decided to try my luck with Mr. Quiff and after we got talking I learnt that he visits friends in Bedfordshire and is studying for a degree of some kind. The bar called however and alas, Mr. Quiff was gone. Not to worry I thought as cleverly Mr. Stubble was in charge of looking after me whilst Mr. Quiff was at the bar. Making conversation, Mr. Stubble asked me what I did as a career. First boob moment of the evening. Wanting to say my actual career path as a admin assistant, alcohol and the free-drinks of the evening took hold of my tongue. Apparently I now work as a 'Director of Distribution'. Not quiet the response both him or I thought we were getting. Ignoring my faux pas, we flowed to the thumping tunes but I started to wonder where Miss Chocolate was as I hadn't seen her in a while. Not wanting to leave my beloved Mr. Stubble but panicking that she had been abducted by Mr. Dot or worse, Mr. Podge! Grudgingly I left to go in search of my roommate. After searching outside, the bar, toilets, entrance and everywhere in between I finally found Miss Chocolate, safe and sound although dying from some boring story that Mr. Podge was telling her.
 
Hitting the dance floor for the last time we realised that it was nearly time to go. But not before I made a complete tit of myself. Glancing at Mr. Stubble and his wallet protruding from his jeans pocket and thinking it would be a good idea to have a last ditch attempt I said this. 'Is that your wallet or are you just pleased to see me?' Feeling myself burn red with embarrassment and not quiet believing what I had said, Mr. Stubble asked what I had said as he couldn't hear over the music. As if the first time was bad enough, I tried three more times before giving up. Note to self: Trying to woo the love of your life right next to the DJ booth is not a good idea. Miss Chocolate had a confession. Mr. Podge was planning to make-out with her at the end of the night and as with Mr. Vee hours earlier, he too had strangely asked her for a kiss. Even after returning home on Sunday, both Miss Chocolate and I are still left not understanding why all men up north had to ask for a kiss whilst men back home just dive right in and hope for the best. Maybe chivalry isn't dead after all? Together we hatched a plan that we would escape from Mr. Podge and his smooching, fleeing into the night when the lights came on. And that's what we did. When the lights went out and the music dyed down we grabbed each other by the hand and skipped towards the exit nearly getting caught up between the police and yet more young men fighting. Together we ran all the way to the car and back to our room where we continued our weekend in style.
 
In the days following our night out Miss Chocolate has longed for her Mr. Dot but has recently re-kindled an old flame to keep her happy. So, Shopping, Spa and relaxing were all part of our weekend but I think that both Miss Chocolate and I will struggle to forget our Friday night in Frodsham in a hurry! 
 
'Til next time, Love A.Lou :) xx