I'm Getting Old

Good Evening,

So today I went to a funeral. It was not someone I knew terribly well but it was someone I had shared several happy memories with. But as I sat there, dry eyed and holding on tightly to Miss Tweedle-Dumb's hand tightly watching everyone around me fall to pieces as we all watched a silent and still coffin, I felt myself grow a little older. Gone are the days now of drinking in the park and mucking around at school. Today I think I faced the fact that whilst I am still young, I am not getting any younger. 

Growing up is tough, but I think one of the toughest things is seeing those around you slowly disappear. I once asked my Nana as a young child what the worst part of getting older is and she explained simply that as we grow older, the more often we have to go into the wardrobe and reach out for that Little Black Dress, each time getting quicker and quicker in concession. 

You see as we all progress in the journey of life we realise that faces change, as do people and their personalities. Some change for the better and some not so much. You yourself as you get older and maybe wiser will change too. And again, some change for the better and some not so much. People will come and go from life as changing as the seasons. Some of the characters you will meet along the road may break your heart and will be the ones that got away. I know Mr. Workaholic is for me. But then I look at the situation I found myself in back in Northamptonshire when I was in my happy little blissful bubble with him. I was twenty and more than happy to settle down with an itchy finger and an empty spare room I needed to fill. Looking back now, albeit through rose tinted glasses, I now know it was not where my life was designed to go and if given a second chance again to give it another shot, I am almost certain now I would decline. Since Mr. Workaholic I have had many a dating disaster including Mr. Carrots, Mr. Coffee and Mr. Sick - Although I am hardly sure you can call that one a date?! Not all of them were awful though. For example I have met wonderful people like Mr. Cheese, Mr. Coffee and even a stint with a couple of lustful lovers over Tinder. But none of them being that all-illusive 'One'.

You will have noticed that Mr. Warehouse has been excluded from the above. Now this does not mean we are getting married (Step away from the facinator!) but nor does it mean that he is another frog in my quest for a Prince Charming. It merely means that for the first time in a while I am beginning to accept that this may be 'it' - Whatever 'it' is?! And after only six-months or so into our relationship it's hard to say if Mr. Warehouse is my one and only. When you have had something so perfectly perfect before it is hard not to compare your feelings this time around to that of how you felt last time you were truly, madly,deeply in love. But I know now that it wasn't perfect as I once thought.

In the long run I honestly don't think Mr. Workaholic and I would have ever worked out. We were not wholly compatible - But then again who is? He never ate vegetables and all that graced his plate was beige this and beige that. Living on chicken dinosaurs and Carbonara flushed down with Redbull was not a healthy or sustainable diet. How was I meant to raise children around a father who ate about as much greens as a breeze block? And whilst we had a laugh and fooled around a lot with minimal arguing, there were some things in life that are just not meant to be. I am in a much better place right now than I ever was with Mr. Workaholic. I am somewhere whereby I don't have to rely on someone else or their income. I depend on me and only me. I pay my own rent, my own bills (Lets not talk about British Gas!) and afford my own things. On the other hand, Mr. Cheese in his own right was wonderfully charming, good looking and very affluent with friends and family in all the right places, but lacked basic skills in the bedroom as well as the "fun and frivolous" department. I could never really be my true self around him, only a segment of me. I knew both at the time and now that if I had continued any longer I would have definitely been settling for something, never to be completely satisfied. 

Whilst the intellectual conversation surrounding politics, literature and other current affairs was there with Mr. Workaholic and Mr. Cheese I was lacking in other areas and although I am not stating that for a second Mr. Warehouse tick's every box, he does try and that is worth more than anything I could ever ask for. Today and the past week or so has really opened my eyes to the world a little and in a way I have come to the conclusion that one day it will be my funeral, and someone will be standing up there on the pew reading out my life story. I want to know that I will have lived life to the fullest and trying not to regret or dwell on what could have been, only looking forward in anticipation for what is to come. And so I end this weeks blog post in a somewhat thoughtful and reflective mood, leaving to ponder the possibilities that tomorrow will bring. 

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

The Vagina Crusade!

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Heyy, 

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

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

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

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

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

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

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx