Beware - The Stagsden Hag!

Evening All, 

Standing in the freezing cold and blustery wind that I thought was going to take me off like Mary Poppins, my frustration and anger was growing minute by minute that we sat in the car park of our future wedding venue, Stagsden Village Hall. For weeks I had been trying to arrange an appointment whereby I could view the building again with a fresh pair of eyes and alongside my fiance Mr Warehouse after we had booked it for our special day. Finally, after some communication issues, I was told that the original lady though we had met on site the first time that we viewed The Village Hall that she has now moved on and how work commitments meant she could not dedicate enough time to the running and upkeep of the village hall and its users. 

With this in mind, I had been put in touch with another lady who assured me that she would be here. The difference was that we were not alone and accompanied also by a potential caterer who had met us on site in order to see the facilities that he would be working with in order to give us some scope for a menu. 
"This was getting ridiculous" I raged to Mr. Warehouse and the caterer as the wind howled and I stormed around the property. It was now nearly half an hour later than planned and after getting up at the crack of dawn in order to make it for my 9:30am appointment, I was seriously vexed at being seemingly stood up. All things considered, the delay would not have been a huge problem had I been alone and had not consumed 4 bottles of wine the previous evening along with Miss Hackney who had come round for gossip and to offload on the week she had. 

Fragile to say the least I had been up until about midnight drinking only to then get up early the next morning in order to drive Mr Warehouse to work at approximately 5:30am. So yes, I am sure that my patience was quite thin anyway and my temper was wearing by each minute that slipped by. 
"I could have been in bed asleep, or binge-watching craft and life hacks on YouTube, or maybe even hitting the road for a morning run?!" I fumed to my entourage. So many more things that I could be doing better than standing around waiting for someone to turn up if at all. I was constantly calling the numbers that I had for the village hall which were only one or two. When no one answered I decided to email an urgent request to the contacts I had, and again to no avail. 

Just as we had discussed with the caterer that there was to become a time where none of us could wait around all day, a large red people carrier came bungling into the gravel car park and out stepped a woman in her mid-thirties and a gentleman about ten-years-older. She asked for my name and said that she was here to set up for a party the following day. I jokingly said with a little bit of annoyance in my voice that I hoped she had a number and had prearranged an appointment since no one had actually turned up for ours. The lady and gentleman explained that they had booked the whole the following day for a party and that they were there today to set up in preparation and to collect the keys. 

It was at this point that I started to get angrier and started to wonder if something sinister had happened. Just as the caterer had come to say he was unable to stay any longer a silver sports car come whizzing into the gravel car park, nearly missing some of us standing around and pulled up to a halt outside the front door. Out popped a chirpy retiree who had mentioned "good morning". Barely being able to hold back after waiting around for nearly an hour I marched over and asked what had happened which made her late for our appointment. She scowled back at me the caterer and Mr Warehouse and proceeded to explain that our meeting was at 10:30am and she was not late. 

Taking a deep breath and mustering all I could by not wanting to smack a bitch in the face, I allowed her to open up the village hall as I explained that I was not the 10:30am appointment and that this was the poor woman and her gentleman friend behind me that had arrived on time to set up the venue. 
"Oh yes well there must have been a mistake and I do apologise but it is of course run by volunteers don't you know" was her response, to which I could handle no more. I made the gestures that we should probably rearrange a better and more suitable time that would be convenient for both of us since there was already someone setting up the hall to which the retired old hag just ushered us in and said to look around. I didn't feel comfortable and explained that the lady and gentleman in the car park had hired the hall and were clearly setting up for an event that they did not need anyone wondering around taking photos or getting in the way when they have hired and paid good money. On hearing this, however, the lady who was setting up the hall with her friend was quite sweet and had said they did not mind us walking around and taking photos if necessary as it was clear there had been a major misunderstanding. So nice! 

Accepting I walked off with my caterer in toe, dashing for the kitchen, Mr Warehouse following and maybe throwing a tut or sigh about the place as he went. However last Stagsden Village Hall is large in comparison to its other contenders we had on the list, it was no stately home and on many occasion, I kept bumping into either the lady and her gentleman friend setting up or the old bag herself. At some point, a group of two or three workmen came in to assess the state of the foyer to lay down some new flooring and then a few moments later another elderly gentleman joined the "Stagsden Hag", tinkering about with the Gas and Electric metres in the middle of the corridor. 

Frustrated beyond belief I think the woman figured that I wasn't best pleased that her and tried to stay out of my way. When it came time to leave I asked her for her mobile number so that this incident would not happen again. Yet again she ran off the bullshit spiel that this is "run by volunteers and there must have been a mistake", that was until I pulled up the email which clearly stated the date and time of which our appointment was. Now I acknowledge that as a side note I was probably a little ratty that day. A combination of very little sleep, lack of food and my bloodstream being made up of at least 30% Rose I was in a foul mood. Add in the fact that it was incredibly windy and very cold as well, all whilst I was on time (which anyone who knows me knows this is a rarity in itself) and someone else was late. I suppose in a way that I have blown this a little out of proportion but the way I see it is that I am sure I will laugh about this in years to come however at the moment I am still narked. Mr Warehouse and I left there Saturday morning, hoping against all hopes, that the "Stagsden Hag" would not be the one handing over our keys the day before our wedding next year. 

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx 

Three More Days!!!

Hiya, 

With less than 72-hours until myself and Mr Warehouse will be on our holiday in Tenerife, suffice to say that we are very excited. The question is do have we got everything ready and are we fully prepared to board the plane? No. The answer would be no. Have I packed? No. Has Mr. Warehouse packed? No. Has anyone done anything besides from getting their hair and nails booked in at the salon been done - Well that stuff is booked, but everything else is being left till last minute as per usual. 

But there has been a valid excuse for this weekend it was a bank holiday in the UK, our last one for a while as the next time that we have a day off from work legitimately will be for Christmas. Normally I will try and plan to go away to somewhere with the dog and Mr Warehouse however we were very busy this weekend with social events and also a bit of overtime we were certainly stack to our eyeballs. Friday was an easy day in terms of both work and evening, but after a hard and long week at work I was more than happy for the extended weekend, all in the knowledge that the next time I see my desk I will be less than two days away from my holiday. 

Saturday started early with Mr Warehouse going to work overtime for the morning, and being the only driver in the household I had drawn the short straw by taking him to work. At 5.30am. But after an extended lay-in and a chill out on the sofa with the dog I was more than ready to start my day, again. Although there wasn't much left of the day to start giving the fact that I collected Mr Warehouse and went into town for a mooch and some last minute holiday shopping. Heading home in order to bake the remaining cakes for the christening the next day we were going to, we had little time to catch a breath before we were around to Mr Warehouses Brothers in order to look after their children. It wasn't until 3am we got home on Sunday and shattered, in our haste to get into bed and some sleep before morning we forgot to put our alarms on. As a result we woke up at the time that we were due to be leaving for the church in order to arrive in time for the christening. It was not going to be possible to make it to the church in time and so therefore we decided that we would wait in a car park of the reception venue so that we could await the new arrival. 

Unfortunately due to the gloriously sunny weather it was getting rather warm in my car and as a result the icing had a split. They looked like a four-year-old had done them and to hand them over to the mother of the child would have been an absolute embarrassment. Feeling depressed and at an absolute low-ebb due to the fact of my cupcakes were melting I said that I didn't want paying for them in the state they were. The disappointing thing is that I had been working on these cupcakes from the moment that she had asked me to do them, trying to work out the different ways that I would be able to carve out a centre and fill it with a rainbow. Hours has spent the last several weeks stuck in the kitchen slaving away trying to make the cupcakes look as beautiful as possible. And to top it all off we ended up arriving at the venue and realising we had forgotten the christening present. So safe to say that Sunday was far from perfect, for me at least. 

Today was far more relaxed with a cheeky Nando's lunch and mooch around town for some bits for the house / dog sitter (AKA Miss Tweedle-Dee) whilst we are away. Seeing family this afternoon, Mr. Warehouse and I are now relaxing in preparation for going back to work, but only for a few hours. Next time we talk I might be writing to you from a beach or beside the pool with a cocktail or two ... 

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

Frisky Frolic's and Festival Fiasco's!

Good Afternoon All, 

So as many of you will know from last week's post I have had a bit of a busy week and an even more manic weekend. After arriving home Monday evening and writing to you all I was up at the crack of dawn next morning to go into work to sign some papers and inevitably I couldn't help myself but to get stuck in for a couple of hours. What can I say though I am a self-confessed control freak who hates to leave her desk knowing that, like most things, no one else can quiet to it better than little old me. Nevertheless I thought I would use my time wisely and head to town afterwards to run some errands. Whilst shopping and collecting things for the weekend ahead I decided to catch up with Mr. Cheese whom was in town himself having coffee with his cousin. 

Obviously feeling the awkwardness she left pretty quickly leaving Mr. Cheese and I to talk about what we have been up to and how life was now we were separated. Not dwelling on it too much Mr. Cheese suggested lunch. Tucking into a bagel I felt awkward still as the fact that this was not a romantic lunch date with a boyfriend played on my mind. Shoving it to the broom cupboard of my head we ate lunch and as the afternoon progressed we eventually found ourselves on my sofa back at my flat. Flirting had commenced as soon as we met and being alone on the sofa that seemed to start all of our sexual encounters did not seem to hinder the situation. leaning in for a cuddle I stayed strong and held my ground telling myself not to give in. I knew that Miss Tweedle-Dee and Miss Tweedle-Dumb would have a field day if they knew my Ex was even within two-metres of my sofa let alone pinning me down on it with snuggles. Slowly I felt a hand on my arse. 

"Are you trying to seduce me Mr. Cheese?" I asked in a deep, coyly sexy voice reserved for only special occasions. I was greeted with an equally deep and husky answer. Being told that it was false of habit only made the resisting that much harder and after some more breathy, wanting phrases we were naked and having the most passionate, hot afternoon sex that I can ever remember having. Taking it to the bedroom for a little nap I curled up in his arms like we used to do. Just before I drifted off into a relaxed and tension-less slumber I heard a whisper. 

"You know when you left mine last Sunday. Well when I went to bed that night I could smell you in the bedsheets. It made me think of you. I've missed you." Said my Ex quietly. Thinking about what he had said and all the wonderful things we had made me question yet again why I was calling him and Ex. Snoozing most of what was left of the day away Mr. Cheese made damn well sure I didn't forget the last time as he brought me as close to an orgasm as I think I have ever had. Shaking and trembling I could tell that he was breathing in as much enjoyment as I was giving out. Shuddering to a climax I couldn't help but take him again as I climbed on top to go once more! 

As the evening set in I prepared for the weekend festival-ing and packed my bags with minimal effort compared to my friends whom I was in constant contact with right up until the early hours. In between cramming in extra pants and the odd hopeful condom I chatted away about what I was taking and how I was packing it all. Panicking we called it a night and headed to bed, my best friends, Miss Tweedle-Dee and Miss Tweedle-Dumb in the hope that the festival fairy would come along in the middle of the night and pack their rucksacks. After waking the following morning the hours seemed to just melted away and before long it was time to set sail for Reading Festival 2014!

At four-am I was up. Curling my freshly dyed hair would take time. Sleeping at Miss Tweedle-Dee's house the night before was a god send and having the bathroom space and areas to get all three of us ready was bliss. As I tip-toed around the family home I had hung out in as a teenager I made sure I looked as festival ready as I could. Crowning my head with an over-the-top flower garland I joined my girls out in the cold dawn to pack the car and head out on the open road. Whizzing down the motorway and bumbling along the roads into the outskirts of London we followed the signs for the festival camps. As stewards showed us where to park and unload we braced ourselves for the trek of a lifetime to where we would eventually call home for the next five days. In doing so we joined the longest line that there ever was in living history but thanked ourselves we had made the effort to get up early to land ourselves a great spot. 

Pitching the tent towards the back of the White camp we noticed that it just so happened to be a prime area for boys to urinate and so we dubbed any lone male with his trousers a little bit slacked towards the waste as being on Willie Watch. Even Miss Tweedle-Dee got involved once or twice. Finally relaxing after a very, very long trip to the local Tesco to pick up beer and other food supplies such as Snickers and Chewee's, we took time to reflect on the important things in life. Like which one of us would we Fuck, Marry or Kill and of which one of my ex-boyfriends I would rather my best friend marries or sleeps with. As lad-like as the conversation was it would have never topped some of our neighbours, of which one of them was called Tuggy. We never found out why he was given this unfortunate nick-name but we all had our suspicions as to what may have caused it. 

As tired as we were we still managed to make it to the man arena area where we collected our wristbands and checked out some of the stalls and huts offering over-priced festival tat which I would probably given half a chance bought all of. Returning to our camp the Girls stopped off at a eatery for some food whilst I perched on a wooden bench. Yawning wide as I looked at my watch realising it was still mildly early a young women walked up to me and ordered me to stop yawning telling me it was a festival and to 'get on it'. Out of no-where a ginger gentleman also sat down next to her and we began talking about who we were most looking forward to seeing out of the acts to headline and where we were all from. A few moments later Miss Tweedle-Dee and Miss Tweedle-Dumb walked passed and I agreed to meet them back at the tent after my conversation with my new friends. Accent confirming that they were from the South Coast I probed further into their location. After explaining that they were from a little village outside of Exeter I felt a twinge of sadness as my mind harped back to days of Mr. Cheese and plans to visit Exeter with him. Changing the subject I asked their names. The guy offered up his name first and I struggled to contain a smirk as he shared the same Christian name as my ex Mr. Workaholic and another guy I went on a date with once (The date in question was awful and was something to never bring up again. Ever.). As the night closed in we partied in the bar and I threw myself into the festival spirit ending up dancing with strangers and adding people on Facebook I will never see again. Turning in for the night I felt that my new ginger friend was asking me back to his tent in a very forward yet round about way. Knowing that he was younger than my brother I declined and headed to my canvass home, stumbling in and rousing everyone in doing so. 

The rest of the weekend seemed to speed right pasted us all in a blur of drinking games, cider and music. Going to the arena everyday I saw some amazing acts including Arctic Monkeys, Paramore, Sigma, AndyC, Don Broco, Enter Shikari, You Me At Six, Twin Atlantic, Tonight Alive, Duke Dumont, Blink 182, Macklemore and Ryan Lewis, Jake Bugg and so many brilliant others. And whilst Jake Bugg was emotional to watch and hear, given the connotations and memories of Mr. Cheese it brought me but all in all, such a cracker of a weekend and all spent with my best friends. Its funny they did try to monitor (As they always do) the content of my writing in the Blog but I told them that the memories we share are the best any human could wish for from friends. 

Admittedly there are things I wouldn't share with you guys, like stories of human defecation and tales of falling in country potholes but I wouldn't have my friends any other way. As a few artists rocked out on the huge stages that swamped the fields of Berkshire I gazed on at them with pride. I was proud to have two best friends that were so diverse in opinion, honesty, humour, sexual preference, personality, judgement and individuality that I don't think that even the Queen herself (Whom Miss Tweedle-Dee has innate fear of) could have chosen a better network of friendship as my two Girls. Over the pasted decade I have not listened to them on many occasions although I hope they know that throughout everything they are the best thing I have in my life and all that is worth sharing is better when it is shared with them. 

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

Those Three Little Words ...

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

Afternoon One and All, 

So this weekend was an inciting one with much to do and see. Also something unexpected and so out-of-the-blue even I didn't see it coming. But maybe that is how it was planned. Unplanned! Well whatever planning or un-planning went into the act it certainly gave me a skip in my step this morning and made my commute back home to my job in Bedford all the more better and as I write to you from the train hurtling through the English countryside I am smiling, conscience that this may not be anything of huge magnitude, but to me it is. Early morning Starbucks did help though! 

Friday night I had my favourite people round, Miss Tweedle-Dumb and Miss Tweedle-Dee and amongst idle chit-chat we discussed the more important things in life like having banana's for hands and indeed spelling the word banana, which at nearly quarter-to-midnight I was failing to do without the help of my academic side-kicks! After ordering pizza delivery from Domino's we decided to escape for a cheeky cigarette. Whilst we awaited the man with our order we took to talks of weddings and other such girlie stuff. Using the pavement as a aisle we joked about what we would do and how hilarious it would all be. As Miss Bride's wedding approaches in the coming weeks, I look forward to a time whereby my friends and I shall also join the club of marriage and leave behind Singlesville with all its meals-for-one and empty beds. Yes, instead we shall swap lives so that we can bicker about directions and only have sex once a week. Oh Joy! The part of my evening with Miss Tweedle-Dumb and Miss Tweedle-Dee that I enjoyed the most was the prospective speeches that were to be projected at my celebration as a Missus. Stories of years gone by including the time I got so sun-burnt I threw up every time I looked at myself, the time I decided to go blonde and ended up looking like 'Big Bird' from Sesame Street and that time where I threw a tantrum in a Spanish shopping mall because no one would come and look at the bag I wanted to buy. Incidentally in that case Miss Tweedle-Dee did come and look at the handbag with me but resulting in no purchase - I was too pissed off. And so I look forward to the day whereby I don't only become someones wife and forever, but I also am blessed with friend's like these whom share in my every moment, no matter how awkward or embarrassing. Thanks Guys!

After a potter round town on Saturday afternoon I hopped on the train to meet Mr. Cheese from his volunteer placement at The Brixton Windmill. As it started to rain heavy I went in search of the preoccupied boyfriend wandering around Brixton Market aimlessly to kill time whilst I arrived. After a soggy hug I was described as 'Wet, Cute and Sexy' by that wonderful man, although I'm not sure how I can do all three at the same time. Go me I suppose! After dinner we boarded the Tube home with the promise of looking at hotels and things to do for our up and coming first Mini-Break to Bristol together. Our trip is planned for a few weeks time, just after Miss Bride's wedding and just before the World Cup 2014 in which like any women with a football mad other half I shall mourn their loss to the great game until July sometime. I however would class myself as a conventional girlfriend where by I am happy to sit in a pub be fed cider and pork scratchings whilst watching moderately attractive men run around in little more than hot pants, occasionally groping each other. Yes, a great game indeed! Although not as good as Rugby! I digress though, and a proper holiday, albeit the Christmas Getaway last year with the family will be much deserved and much fun for us both. Although it was not to be as an unlikely haze took hold of Mr. Cheese and struck him with an arrow of lust and unspent energy. 

Starting off unconventionally on the Tube home from dinner at Honest Burger in Brixton, I shared with my boyfriend a kiss that would make anyone knees give way. Good thing I was sitting down. Passionately kissing me as we begged for the Tube to be empty of the only other occupant in the carriage to leave I embraced his passion and added to it myself, entwining ourselves in each other in a haze of young lust. Walking home from the station we could hardly contain ourselves, knowing that a flat free from house-mates and a neighbour with a heightened sense of sound to piss off I felt more excited than I had done in months. 'This was what I was missing' I thought. With promises of looking into a break to Bristol in June, we unlocked the door to the three-bed West London pad with a new agenda that didn't include taking off our pants. That failed and before I knew it I was lying on the Greek flag, being Falafel-ed! I think Mr. Cheese put it right when he said to me drifting off into a cuddly slumber that nothing would have got done that night anyway. 

As my boyfriend kissed me on the lips Sunday morning I smiled although conscience of my apparently putrid morning breath. Hiding it as usual I snuggle back into his chest like a woodland animal not wanting to rise from the bed until wholly necessary. Unfortunately this was to come too soon as Boyfriend and I had the company of a good friend Mr. Cheese knew from school and university for the afternoon. Slipping on some heels and making myself look presentable I hoped I would be somewhat a talking point of lad-banter when I tottered to the bathroom or the bar to refresh our table with snacks and drinks. Although following the afternoon of football, cups and goals I decided to go back home with my boyfriend and snuggle for a bit before heading home. Secretly I didn't want to go home and wanted to try my luck at the bedroom-game but with the ill look on his face setting in I knew what my Mr. Cheese needed was for me to wrap him up and tuck him in bed with a nice cup of hot, loose-leafed tea and cuddles. This was not the case yet again. 

Eyes squinting, I peeked out from behind the fluffy animal-print throw. Light blistered my peepers making me not want to get out of the cosiness I had found myself. I was naked and not alone. Yes, the person that stared back at me was my sleepy boyfriend. Sickness prevailed and I could tell he was unwell. Snuggling under the sheets he pulled me in close as I realised I was naked again and the implications this may have for the near future of my nether-regions. Poor Mr. Cheese. He was sick, so I probably shouldn't have come on to him, but nevertheless I did. A back massage later and craving something more than just rubbing, I straddled him, soon discovering I would not be getting what I wanted. I suppose I shouldn't be greedy as the following evening had been spent (quite literally) in a whirlwind of pleasure. I am hesitant to use the word ecstasy as that word is commonly used to describe orgasm, to which I still have yet to find at twenty-two but that is neither here nor there. As we spooned in the harsh glow of the bedroom light I recalled in fondness the way Mr. Cheese pandered to my every desire the previous evening. My arched back. The shivers down my spine. The eruption of pleased squeals from my lungs as I cried out his name in the moment. Ahh yes, the satisfying evening prior! 

Napping until just gone nine at night though after a passionate encounter was the norm with us. And I enjoyed it. It made me feel young and throw-away and reckless, not caring for the hours knowing that I had so many left ahead of me. Realising that the massage had done the opposite affect that I wanted I decided to turn my head to cake instead (as one does when one is not ravaged on the spot). The lemon tart Miss Tweedle-Dee had bought me Friday night had made the long journey from Bedford to Chiswick and was about to be sampled! Serving up a warmed slice accompanied with tea and coffee I entered the lounge and joined Mr. Cheese on the couch to watch some traditional wildlife TV before bedtime properly. Again Bristol Mini-Break didn't get a look in but the thought was there. As we positioned ourselves facing one another again, noses barely touching, I suppressed the compulsion to say the 'L' word, unaware that it was only hanging off the other persons tongue. 

Waking naturally I wondered to the time. Looking at my phone I noted that I still had a few moments I could steal away between the sheets before I had to dash back to my job in Bedford. Due to the ill-health of the Boyfriend I decided to stay last night in Chiswick to care for him and make sure he was OK. He seemed worse when I woke this morning, clammy and tired. I worried for him and really tried hard to think of ways I could stay, knowing that I couldn't, not when I was only a few weeks into my new role. And so as I prised myself from Mr. Cheese's weak grip I asked if he wanted tea or breakfast. The reply was a short and sweet declination. I offered him anything else he wanted and he reached out for a cuddle. How could I deny him that. Of all the simple pleasures in life this was one of them. Getting dressed I tried not to rouse the sickly Boyfriend too much although he did say how wonderful it felt to be feeling so terrible but able to wake in the night and just reach out to someone just across the pillows. And as if that didn't touch me enough I was bowled over by what was to come next. 

Pulling on my coat and borrowed scarf from Mr. Cheese I knew that the 6am London air would be chilly and unpleasant compared to the warmth of the flat. Nevertheless I knew I had to go and that if I didn't go soon I would be making a convincing phone-call to my boss explaining why I wasn't coming in. Asking once more if there was anything I could do for him I bent down to kiss him goodbye. Flashes of role-reversal invaded my mind as I saw myself being kissed by Mr. Workaholic before he left for work, leaving me too in bed. Casting those thoughts aside I rose to my feet, only to be tugged back down for another smooch. This time it was for real - I had to leave. And maybe it was the conscience illness talking or maybe it was straight from the heart I had listened to beat only a matter of hours ago snuggled up on his chest, but one thing is for certain and that is that this morning, I heard clear as day; Mr. Cheese said 'I Love You'!

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

All But Dream's ...

Hello All,

So last week I spoke of my misfortune with Mr. Suicide and the fact that my job had come to an end. I also said that maybe, just maybe things would change by the next time we spoke. And it has. Sort of ...

Yesterday I bagged myself a job. So it was a bit out the way and would mean a long journey to and from work, but I was up for a challenge and ready for a fight - Especially when they refused to let me have the job simply because I didn't drive (In which the job did not state was a requirement so HA!). After an hour and a half journey to work this morning and waking up whilst the sun was still yawning I arrived bright and early ready to start my first day's work, and I loved every second of it. Calling customers and sorting out cavity wall and loft insulation's was a breeze and I picked up everything they taught me super fast.

But when the clock struck five-o'clock and I headed out the door, that's when it all changed. After slogging it up a steady hill on a bicycle which I now hate, I watched the bus sail on past. After then realising that there were no bus stops for another few miles I puffed it out again on my wretched cycle. Arriving at a local pub and knowing that the bus would eventually stop there I sat sown on a bench, only to check the timetable and realise that buses now run every hour. I had a fifty-nine minute wait by the time the bus arrived, which it did. Late. The fugly female driver then had the audacity to say that my bike was not allowed. By this point I have had enough and hoofed it on before she could drive off. Three hours it took me to get home. Three hours. Plus the hour and a half getting to work. A grand sum of four and a half hours commute. That's more than some people's shifts. The worst part about it. For forty-five pounds for a shitty commute and long arse hours, its just not worth it. Safe to say I wont be doing that tomorrow I can tell you that!

And so here I am again. Back at square one. Still searching for that all elusive clerical role. On the plus side though I decided to throw it all away this weekend with a bit of a party! Well it started out as Miss Tweedle-Dumb and I washing her car and pretending to be sexy whilst doing so on a muggy Saturday afternoon in denim hot-pants and tight white t-shirts which became see through when we ended up having a water-fight including soap-suds all being topped off by a make out sesh. Haha I'm joking. You would never see us in hot pants. Or the rest of that stuff - But a girl can dream cant she? But the fun didn't stop there - Oh No!

Feeling sad, single and under-sexed Miss Tweedle-Dumb and I came round to the subject of weddings. You would think that two young, youthful women would get excited about such an event, understandably ... But when you and your best friend are in platforms wearing nothing but a white bed sheet as a make-shift wedding dress, a net curtain as a veil and a tiara walking around the house together taking it in turn it be the bride, then maybe things have gone too far. Regardless, we laughed and giggled no amounts and she made me feel much better about myself and my situation. I cant wait until someone now gets married ... Hurry up friends! Or Prince Charming, you know, I don't mind. Either one. Which ever comes first. Ohh, did you hear that? I think I just heard all the men running away from me in horror of commitment and the freaky lady dressed in a bed-sheet wedding gown. Oh Dear! Forever alone.

This did not stop us though as Miss Tweedle-Dumb and I continued the party (Carrying on the wedding themed afternoon well into the night labelling our night on the town as our 'Wedding Reception'). However when Miss Tweedle-Dee and Miss Tweedle-Dumb got wind that I was supposed to be going out with Miss Chocolate to celebrate her moving in later on that night they decided to make a proper night of it and join us in going all out, all together. But this wasn't before copious amount of shots and nearly being sick before we even left! Upon arrival at our nightclub of choice Miss Chocolate and I made the most of the empty dance floor whilst we could as by the end of the night, as usual, I was being 'grinded' on by a black man and being mentally undressed and seduced by someone else.

All in all though a better week than previously. Hopefully things will pick up and maybe a new job. I would say Prince Charming too but maybe that's asking for too much since I only started online dating this week. Aha a girl can only but hope!

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

Time For A Little Sunshine...

Hey everyone, 

So I am currently writing to you from the very sunny and beautiful island of Majorca in Spain. Slightly chilly out but still, the sun is shining and I don't have work. 

The past week has been fun although not much has happened in the way of anything, apart from having to comfort a very glum and self-destructive Mr. Mot after I had a phone all at one in the morning. I attempted to pamper his ego as much as possible and make him feel better about himself especially what with his current situation, but it was all in vain as he still carried on in the same self-loathing he had started the conversation with. After an hour and a bit of trying to make him feel better I gave up and ended the call. Nevertheless the following day he was as right as rain and back to his cheery, if a little crude and flirtatious self.  Mostly this week though has been preparing for this week. Miss Tweedle-Dee and Miss Tweedle-Dumb have been stressing about packing and departure times and such like all week, where as I have been as cool as a cucumber and have been relaxed, that is up until the wax...

So after my appointment at my local college being booked in on the half-term holidays in the south of England and so therefore being unavailable I found myself a little salon near where I work. Reasonably priced and with the schedule open I booked without hesitation. Upon arriving to said venue some minutes late due to the train being cancelled I was ready to be de-fluffed! Little did I know that walking over hot coals would have been a more pleasurable experience. If you are thinking about it ladies and gentleboys; DON'T - It hurts! Thinking it would be a good idea for holiday is one thing but then carrying it out with a women who you don't even know is another. I mean firstly there was the fact that I had bought new jeans previously and that the dye had rubbed off onto my legs so I looked like an overgrown Smurf. Secondly, less than ten minutes in and because my legs are made of 99.9% cellulite, she spilled hot wax all over me as the roller machine that she was using got trapped in one of my fat pockets. And then there was the sheer fact that she had a looked and touched something that a guy only gets to after he's taken me for dinner. Bareing (no pun intended) this in mind, my legs are still smooth ... ish. Definitely not worth it for the money, the pain or the bite marks on the back of my hands as a result. 

Miss Tweedle-Dee, Miss Tweedle-Dumb and I arrived mid morning after a long morning spent traipsing round the airport looking for a coffee shop so that all three of us could function properly as it was like three in the morning. The flight itself was pretty straight forward, but as we were taxing down the runway, for some odd reason I felt an overwhelming urge to kiss someone. To be honest I felt a bit emotional going on holiday again. I always do though. I suppose it doesn't help that I feel this way every time I go away because it was the last time I went on holiday with Mr. Workaholic that he decided to make his own mind up about our relationship. Regardless of that though, I am having a splendid time already. Miss Tweedle-Dumb is having a nap before we head out to dinner. So far there have been no arguments although I have had to seclude myself onto the balcony as Miss Tweedle-Dee is making so much random chitter chatter by talking to herself that I can barely hear myself think. 

And so after a fun and vibrant day in Majorca, Spain it's time to clock off as I am starving and Miss Tweedle-Dee, Miss Tweedle-Dumb and I still have to hunt out dinner. Need to wake them up first which shall be a task and a half as Miss Tweedle-Dumb is already snoring. Uhh, she also just farted, how classy of her slumbering self. This will be an interesting few days to watch out for next week. 

'Til next time, Love A.Lou :) xx