Cluck, Cluck!

Morning Everyone, 

After finishing a busy day at work there wasn't enough time to hang around and chat with colleagues at the end of the week. I was off. I had a Hen weekend to get to. With my bags already packed for night number two in Milton Keynes, complete with toothbrush, Jammies, and my HURR Collective rental, the Ivory SELKIE Puff Ball Dress, I was certainly glad of getting my hair done on my lunch break. Yes a bit bouji, but when I had to get home, changed, make-up done and over to Kempston, all within an hour. Safe to say even with my hair done and outfit ready for the first night out of the weekend I was pushed for time and didn't rock up until gone 6.20pm. What is going on? I have no effing idea. All I know is that it is going to be a weekend of debauchery and naughtiness, and maybe a few willie straws thrown in for good measure!

Friday evening was started with strongly poured drinks, pic's for the gram, and a good catch-up with my old work colleagues. Being handed a huge blow-up doll (with no appendage), a sash, and a veil I was super excited. Taxi booked we soon were taking the party to a posh restaurant within a four-star hotel in Bedford. Pen & Cob, is the Swan Hotel's on-site British Brasserie, offering freshly prepared dishes throughout the day. Serving breakfast, brunch, lunch, and dinner, the selection of seasonal dishes were superb with most of them locally sourced, where possible. 

On their website, they state "We make sure our dishes are sourced from suppliers which have superb reputations for producing the highest quality meats and products. Such as working closely with Stickleback fish suppliers in Welham Green to ensure Pen & Cob has the pick of the market as soon as the boats come in." Soon enough though we headed to a few bars for cocktails and some more chatting shit about life before hitting the dancefloor's to dance the night away. 

As midnight approached a few of the girls left, dropping off as the night went on. By the time I knew it I was stood in The Standard at like 2am and I had a Jagerbomb in my hand. I knew this was wrong. I knew I shouldn't have done it. If truth be told, I felt a little pressured into it as the tubby man in a waistcoat and pocket watch (Yes I know - He claimed he was a "music producer" but seemingly the only musicians he could produce from his Instagram were a bunch of old drunks trying to relive their youth, his words not mine?!). The moment it rolled over my lips and into my mouth I regretted my decision and my lack of firmness in refusing it. 

Within seconds I looked at my old work colleague and I think she knew. I made my excuses that I needed to "make a call" and desperately tried to contain myself as I could feel the German drink slipping further down my body. I knew I only had mere moments before this bad boy was visiting my mouth for the second time. Just as I pushed my way into the ladies' bathroom, some girls congratulated me on my Hen Do but I couldn't reply. My drink had arrived. Again. Stumbling into one of the stalls it came up entirely and instantly I felt better. 

An hour or so later with just the two of us girls still standing and the blow-up man waining we decided to call it a night, although unbeknownst to me we had already made it mostly the whole night as it was 3am and kicking out time for most places. Heading to where Mr. Warehouse normally picks me up, there he was,, my knight in a shining silver car. After dropping my friend off, the future Hubby drove me over to Milton Keynes where I met a sleepy Miss Hackney at the AirBnB we had booked for my Hen weekend. Falling into bed I was shattered and within hours I would be back at it again. 

Saturday was started with Melon and Mango and a freshen up under the waterfall/rain shower. With mostly Mr. Warehouse's family turning up around 1pm we played some games to get to know one another (maybe a little too well) before heading off to our first activity. Arriving at the school setting, I must say it didn't give off immediate hen party vibes. It was still chucking it down with rain as it had been all morning and after being told that it was an adults sports day organized I was concerned as none of us had come dressed for outdoor weather. We all laughed as we joked that we couldn't possibly be doing it out in that weather, that was until we realized that the poor Uni-Student wasn't laughing. He was deadly serious. 

Marching straight up to the reception Miss Hackney nearly unleashed all her Shoreditch-Shit on this bloke, demanding he either found us somewhere inside to do the games or refund us everything. Suddenly there was a dance studio free. We all piled in and just as we did the rain had knocked out the power, leaving us in a darkened room. But this didn't dampen our spirits as we chugged down our mini bottles of rose and donned sweatbands, twerking and limbo-ing our way through the afternoon before heading back to the apartment to get ready for the night-time fun!

Unbeknownst to me, we were due to be doing cocktail making and then a nice meal before heading off to the clubs of MK but after the cocktail making and meal had fallen through as the venue had an outbreak of COVID, Miss Hackney had a job of finding something to take its place. That is when she stumbled upon Bistro Live. With the entire night taken care of and all under one legendary roof, I can see why. After a tasty meal, our night was jam-packed with fun from 7pm all the way through to the early hours, all accompanied by the attentive team looking after our every need, there was no queuing at the bar for drinks and much more time to party! And because it is the world-famous Bistro Live we were even allowed to dance on tables and chairs, grinding and groaning the night away all in the knowledge that the thighs that hurt from the Adult P.E Session earlier were going to be even worse tomorrow morning.

Waking Sunday morning and checking out of the AirBnB was hard. Not because there was no life and we had tonnes of stuff. Not because Miss Hackney was absolutely hanging out her arse. Not because we had to tidy up the place from the night before. But because I knew it was over. That was it. My Hen Do. All done. Finished. Over. No More. I was sad. I think I have Hen-Do-Blues. Is that a thing? Well, at least I can say I had an incredible weekend and all thanks to some amazing friends who pulled through for me when others hadn't. I enjoyed every moment of it and drank so much I am surprised I could remember where I was let alone who I was getting married to. All in all a great weekend with great company. At least I can still say I can hack two nights out on the Trott, and if anything I could have probably even managed a third! Roll on the wedding!

'Til next time, Love A.Lou x

Remember, if you would like to purchase anything then please feel free to check out my store at: https://www.etsy.com/uk/shop/Wooftys or visit our Instagram @WooftysDogTreats and use "TATOATS21" to get 10% off your first order over £15.00.

Hen's, Headaches and Getting Hitched!

Heyyy, 

I. Am. Tired.

After nearly 160 miles, two nights of drinking, and approx twelve hours of sleep the whole weekend I am well and truly knackered.

It was my future Sister-in-laws's Hen do / Bacholerette party this weekend and after traveling to Nottingham for a spa weekend of partying and drinking with some close friends and family. Being the land of Robin Hood I can definitely say that we were less about robbing from the rich and giving to the poor, more like we came rich and left poor ... mainly for the sake of alcohol and spa treatments! I thoroughly enjoyed myself with some incredible company and a good lot of people to while away the weekend away from husbands, kids, and responsibilities, however, if you think that this blog post is going to be spilling all the beans and providing the inside scoop, you will be sadly disappointed. I am afraid a lady never kisses and tells (not that anything like that happened at all I must say) and what happens on Hen Do', Stays on Hen Do's!

I have started the second week of my new job as Operations Coordinator in Milton Keynes at an Air Conditioning, Plumbing, and Heating company and am enjoying it so far, slowly slowly but getting there with the lingo and terminology. But with 8-weeks to go until our wedding things are getting to the point now where bills are going to need paying in the next few weeks by the end of the month and plenty of things that still need doing including tonnes of DIYs and wedding stationery that needs doing. I just hope things stay as they are and we finally make it this time to our special day.

Monday 19 July 2021 in the UK marked the ending of lockdowns and an end for all COVID restrictions including nightclubs reopening, no face masks, and big festivals and events beginning to start. Bozza Jozza's plans for the final unlocking of restrictions in England were pushed back from the 21st of June and maybe rightly so. But can Prime Minister Boris Johnson really go back on his word yet again, U-turning? Now BoJo's lifted all legal restrictions in England but he has urged the public to remain cautious, saying the pandemic is not over.

The BBC outlined today (Monday 16 August 2021) that there have been nearly 6.3 million confirmed cases of coronavirus in the UK with nearly 131,000 people have died from the deadly disease that has ruined and spoilt life for over a year now. Government figures show however that almost 90% of adults in the UK have now had their first dose of a coronavirus vaccine and nearly 77% have had their second.

Public Health England estimates that, up to 6 August, the UK vaccination program had prevented nearly 85,000 deaths and more than 23 million infections. Impressive and certainly the hope and faith we need and less of the doom and gloomy crap the news is mainly made up of. The BBC news article continues that more than 47 million people of all UK adults have had at least one vaccine with everyone over the age of 18 across the UK can now book a vaccine, so hopefully, the uptake continues and we can hear less and less about the stupid idea that you have a microchip implanted in your arm or that it makes you a magnet?! And with the most recent government figures show at least 5,894 people with coronavirus in hospitals in the UK. A week earlier that figure was 5,816. Although numbers climbed in recent weeks, they are far below the peak of nearly 40,000 people back in January. I am desperate to hang onto any piece of positivity as we break the 2-months-to-go mark! 

'Til next time, Love A.Lou x

Remember, if you would like to purchase anything then please feel free to check out my store at: https://www.etsy.com/uk/shop/Wooftys or visit our Instagram @WooftysDogTreats and use "TATOATS21" to get 10% off your first order over £15.00.

Cluck! Cluck!

Evening, 

Racing home from work I hurried to get ready. This was something I couldn't be late for. One of my new work colleagues (or not so new because lets be honest I have been working there for like six-months) is getting married in a matter of weeks and as an absolute surprise all the ladies in the office have got together to give her a right good old send off. I'm glad for it in all honesty since there was a time not so long ago that I felt a little left out on plans everyone made in the office. 

The Plan? Nice sit down meal with great food and then on for some cocktails after that. I have come to discover that this is somewhat a standard night out with my "new" work friends. Its definitely more sophisticated to what I was usually used to back when I used to work with Miss Hackney, Mr. CWG, Mr. Warehouse and Co. Usually we would start in The Rose, a Pub/Bar on the main High Street and then progress two-doors up to something not a lot classier. Same sticky floors I remembered in college gives me the comfort I need when the balls of your feet are stinging from the skyscrapers you decided were a good idea several hours ago. All of this would be topped off with some heavy flirting (And even some petting from others I as out with), dancing until the lights come on (Or we were kicked out) and a Subway for the short walk home. Oh how I missed those nights where I could pretend to be in my late teens again without a care in the world and with some f the best people on the planet I know. 

All of that seemed a world away as we sat down to our meal, Bride-to-Be surprised to the point of tears when she walked in to find us awaiting her. After the meal was finished we headed to the Cocktail Bar, loosing few faces along the way. The Auction Room is honest to god a slice of London's Soho brought to Bedford - Including the 'effing price too. I mean don't get me wrong, I love the sophisticated atmosphere and how grown up everyone is, but a little part of me knows that I will never have to sneak off for a tactical chunder whilst in there. Most of what cocktails are made of is good for you anyway right? Juices, fruit puree and fresh berries on top ... surely that has to count as one of your five-a-day?

Following an incident with some gentleman (if you can even call them that) the Hen Party and I decided to leave the pricey cocktail house. It would have appeared that when younger, sillier boys who are still in the WDK phases of nights out on the lash find a Hen Party they just can't help themselves. Tugging on our hair and yanking our sashes back that we were wearing with pride, these Dicks had no respect for women or for their last night (Or fort-night in this instance). It started I am sure, in a playful manner, not meant t annoy or offend. But it escalated quickly. After the fat chick (yes that's me I'm describing) tried to dance and flirt with them I thought it would put them off, all the other lads laughing 'cas chunky wanted a bit of the hot, young 'D'. Obviously not (Although in my head I am thinking "YES! Still got it!" when it was quite clear I never truly 'had it' in the first place)! I then tried protecting the Bride-to-Be and our Hen's with some serious awkward dancing. Nope - Still not working! And then, just as the rough play had gotten too much I decided to pull one of my last cards out of the bag ... The small willy Gag. Symbolizing the international sign for small wiener everywhere, I donned my pinkie-finger and began to action it towards what appeared to be the ring leader, again in attempt to ward off and embarrass him and his friends enough to piss off and stop harassing us like flies to shit. I wasn't to worry though for no sooner than the shocked faces and gaffaued laughter had exploded from the girls I was with it all broke down again, nearly ending with the Bride-to-Be in a punch-up of her own!

Heading for somewhere more reasonably priced it was the George & Dragon next which I kept referring to as D&G - Of which it was far from. Moments after stepping inside though I was faced with a dilemma that was all too familiar to me. After a tap on my shoulder I turned around, only to be greeted by Miss Hackney herself, along with  Miss Sugarcoat and a couple of other friends of theirs. I looked over to the bar and saw my new work colleagues, beckoning me over with the tempting liquor of a Screwdriver - A staple of my night out! Again I was face with the decision of staying with friends and good company (Not that the Hen Party was not of course) or stay loyal to my new work buddies and bid Miss Hackney and Miss Sugarcoat a farewell. 

OK making it way more emotional that it sounds right now, but at the time I had a lot to drink and I was certainly feeling it enough to make a few hastily typed messages to Miss Hackney and Miss Sugarcoat asking them where they had disappeared to and if it was even all real? Was it an epiphany that I had seen them whilst blind drunk on a Hen Do?! No it turned out it was real, just they had moved on to the next sticky-floored venue in town. Suffice to say that my Friday night was eventful and I am glad to say that I am happy to be a part of a group that enjoys a messy night out, even if it starts in a slightly classier way. 

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

Top 'O Tha Maarning T' Yas!

Hiya, 

So after last weeks entry I was very much anticipating my Gravediggers Ghost Bus Tour that evening however after a quick snack-a-roo en route to the stop in Dublin's City centre, Mr. Warehouse and I were saddened to hear the woops and roars of what appeared to be not one but two Hen Parties on board our tiny 30-something-seating double-decker bus. Now you guys know me, and after my messy Irish night out on the tiles with Mr. Warehouse I am never far from a party or two, but when your Hen Do is impacting on my ability to enjoy my last night on a romantic Ghost Bus Tour with my boyfriend who is shitting himself even before boarding said bus then we are really going to have a problem here! 

Boarding the Bus and getting to know everyone on-board, being the day after Valentine's Day we were all asked who we were and where we came from. In-between dick jokes and more slanderous comments from the obtuse Hen Parties either end of the bus, the rest of us not partaking in the tom-foolery discovered that we had a very international bus load of anxiously scared passengers ranging from Italy, Canada, USA, Finland, Brazil, Germany and not to forget the Brummy and Liverpudlian Hen's - Of course they were from the part of England with the very worst of accents! Wondering if there was any possibility murder or sudden mysterious forces would force the chants and drunken "banter" to stop we commenced what would be an OK tour made worse by such inhabitants. Oh where was the Irish famine and Plague when you needed it! 

Returning home that night and packing was nice as I knew in the morning after a glorious breakfast (of which it was) and a mooch around the shops, stopping at Pandora for the umpteenth time this trip we would be heading down to Callan, just outside Kilkenny on the borders of County Kilkenny and Tipperary in the beautiful green countryside of Ireland. 

The journey by coach was long, a little over two-hours, but certainly shorter than going back the other way. Stepping out into the cold, wet rain of the tiny village I was waved over to a car that had come to collect Mr. Warehouse and I. Realising it was my Uncle I went to load our things into the car and get out of the rain. Heading along the winding roads I worried at how Mr. Warehouse and my Uncle would get along, especially since before Christmas at their first encounter with each other they had not got off to the best start. But I need not have worried for by the time we arrived at my Aunts Cottage twenty-minutes or so later they were getting on like they had known each other for years. 

Settling in I helped with the dinner since my Auntie has never really liked cooking at the best of times, and besides, I had kind of missed it strangely. I suppose that is what eating out for Breakfast, Lunch and Dinner does to your mind - Makes you needy for mash and cooking veg! Sitting down to dinner we chatted for hours and days even, continuously loop-talking about life in general and how to make the world a better place, righting all the wrongs back home in England with family, friends and colleagues as well as some important issues like trying to explain to my drunken Aunt and Uncle what a 'Gooch' is and what 'Teabagging' was in a context outside of the arts and crafts world. 

The following days were spent mainly out of the area, visiting local points of interest and touring mainland Ireland. First outing was to Waterford, a small town renowned worldwide for its connection to Waterford Crystal alongside a fishing harbour, bordering County Kilkenny and Tipperary. I think I made the poor mistake of choosing a Latte when entering the Lily O'Brien's Chocolate Café. A mistake that right now I am regretting as Mr. Warehouse chose their luxury hot chocolate and after taking a sip I knew my coffee-infused decision, this time at least, was a bad one! 

Second outing was one I was not fully committed to in the beginning, I will be honest, but afterwards was totally blown away and so very glad I was made to visit. Cahir Castle had stood in the little village of the same name had been standing there for over eight-hundred-years and as the rain drizzled I entered the courtyards and gardens of the small stone castle I fell in love instantly. In my head it was impossibly easy to imagine hiring the whole thing out for the day to host a wedding, where in my head I was the Princess Bride and Mr. Warehouse was the brave Knight. His dog could be dressed up to look like a gallant steed and I would try to resist putting Mother of the Groom in a Jester outfit. The lawns were perfect for my dream of vintage fair games like coconut shy's, candy-floss machines and hog roasts, whilst the great hall and 18th Century barn conversion would host 'Ye Olde Wedding Ceremony' and reception afterwards. Little rooms and outhouses provided perfect escapes for guests to explore the old ruins and make-believe for a day that we were all Kings and Queens. Upon my way out I knew I would regret it if I didn't ask so collared the guide-lady to ask about holding a wedding there - Obviously not for myself of course!? But alas you shall have to await as the venue does not currently hold a marriage licence yet and is only able to accommodate a blessing so I shall have to wait for my dreamy Irish castle wedding for another day - Well that and a time where I am actually asked to be someone's Bride! 

Returning back to the cottage to help with firewood and the landscaping of a few garden areas in order to make way for oil/central heating to be put in (yes the cottage is really that old), Mr. Warehouse and I prepared to go home and back to reality and the following morning bid farewell to my Aunt and Uncles as we made the gruelling ten-hour trip back home to the 'Shire. 

Indeed I enjoyed my trip to the Green Isle and back home I am now looking forward to my next adventure with the other half ... Maybe somewhere beach-ier though?!

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

Another Bank Holiday Weekend In Style!

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Good Evening One and All, 

So after the latest drama surrounding mine and Mr. Cheese's relationship last week I have has a somewhat change of heart. I don't know what it is but maybe its a culmination of this weekend's events that have left me feeling somewhat very different than how I usually feel when writing to you all on a Monday evening after spending time with the Boyfriend. 

This weekend started off with a bang (or maybe bang-ers is the phrase?!) as it was Miss Bride's Hen Do for the wedding I am photographing at the end of the month. Knowing it was going to be a good night I donned myself in Military fancy-dress for the occasion (a brilliant idea I thought since both of our fathers were in the Army hence our friendship) and headed on down to the station. Strutting my stuff through town and revelling in the honks and beeps from car's I felt like the suspender tights, poofy tutu and leather jacket added extra to my busty camouflage top and Army beret. I felt like I could rule the world. That was until I crossed the road with my massive fat egotistical head thinking I was on America's Next Top Model only to then get a big honk and a enthusiastic wave from my new boss in his car! Hands to my face I thought 'Brilliant, The office will be fun next week!' No doubt if he had a camera I would be joining Lucy Pinder and the likes on the walls of the warehouse where the boys work downstairs from my office. But that wasn't the end of my encounters for the evening - Oh No! Skipping onto a bus go get to the ve-Hen-ue (I'm Awful!) I noticed a short-haired blonde at the back of the bus. Getting closer I nearly died. It was none other than Mr. Workaholic's little sister. I assumed that she hadn't noticed me until we locked eyes and hers grew as a smile invaded my face, grinning with contempt. Arrogance growing it gave me more faith in my skimpy outfit. 

Waltzing into the social-club where Miss Bride and her entourage were starting the evening I was greeted warmly and was prompted to the bar to make a purchase of the alcoholic variety. The first half of the evening was spent by playing games like stick the dick on the donkey and Willie hoopla of which any winners won a vibrator! A truly in-genius idea and one which I have stored in a bank of good ideas for myself later on in life. Apparently the party was so good that we had some unexpected guests. Above our area of the social club there was a 60th birthday party being held however it was obviously a bore since we had several males join us. Not the sort you would want to strip and get naked giving you a lap-dance but nevertheless good sports and even a bit of mild flirting going on to the point of which both mine, Miss Bride's and other Hen's chests were covered in drunken, Biro scribbled phone numbers and autographs. After pre-drinking enough that some of us couldn't stand and in-vainly trying to convince random men from the smoking area to come and get their kit off for what can only be described as loose change we all headed into Town. The night continued well into the night as expected and anticipated but when people started to drop I continued to party with anyone else left standing. The men that had crashed our Hen party had found us in a bar and one had even leaned in to try and kiss me to which I smashed my palm in his face and forcefully said no, reinstating the fact I have a boyfriend. 2am came and went and so did my last train back home to Bedford so I decided that I would continue to party and dance the night away. Bumping into old college friends and faces was fun as well and whilst heavy flirting was going on I was all the happier knowing I have someone at home for me. Eventually as the night continued and more party-goers dropped off like flies I realised I was the last Hen standing and left with three of the stags, one of which being Mr. DJ. 

Calling it a night, all four of us decided to get a cab and that I would be dropped closer to Bedford. Taking my seat next to a lovely gentleman and across the way from Mr. DJ I was grateful for the Cab and not a late night bus or two-hour wait on a cold platform in next to nothing. Once the first stop was made I was grateful also for the one-on-one time I had with Mr. DJ as I felt the need to clear the air after our earlier liaisons in such a vehicle. After mentioning briefly how nice it is that we can just be adults about it all and accept that I don't expect him to romance me further, Mr. DJ agreed adding that we are only humans and we all have needs. Safe to say that as Mr. DJ was dropped off home I was glad for the brush with him. Sunday morning pierced through the window and only managing less than three hours sleep after getting in at 4am I was defiantly feeling fragile. I suppose I'm lucky in the sense that I don't get hangover's but Sunday morning I was worse for wear, in need for coffee and my toothbrush. But I didn't have time to lounge about all day and recover from my escapades the previous evening. I had an event to attend. One of which I would be attending with my boyfriend. One of which I would be also in the company of Momma and Pappa Cheese as well as some of Mr. Cheese's close friends from school and the village he grew up in. Also in attendance was a face I had not met before. The Ex!

Entering the small village hall where friends, family, neighbours and others had arrived to celebrate a birthday party I scanned the building for a face I knew from photo's. I knew who I was on the hunt for and dressed in a floaty (very short) Grecian dress, nude heels and my legs of power on show I was ready for war! Standing by Mr. Cheese's side I was glad for being fashionably late and appreciative for the glass of Prosecco I was handed despite not eating anything for breakfast and still being slightly drunk still from my slutty-soldier antics. Greeting Momma and Pappa Cheese I felt more at ease although conscience that my boyfriend's Ex AKA Miss Cardboard Box was within the vicinity. Ready for action I made small talk with people I knew as the piano played in the background I thought about how out of place it is for someone like me to be at such a formal event. If it was my big six-zero I would be getting everyone on the floor to do the time-warp not sipping fizz and eating crab quiche. 

Striking up discussion with Momma Cheese and a friend of my boyfriends I noticed a figure swoop into position coolly joining us and halting conversation. As if in slow motion and waiting with bated breath I realised that Mr. Cheese was not by my side and that I would have to deal with this introduction alone. However I had my wit, charm and likability to push down the barrel of my gun, ready to fire if required. Taking note that the conversation had now been quashed by Miss Cardboard Box's arrival I looked to Momma Cheese for something to say. She returned the glance as if to ask do these two women know what bond's them. Turning to face Miss Cardboard Box again I shook an extended arm making sure I gave a good firm handshake. In hindsight I feel this is hilarious given everyone else I would hug or French kiss on greeting or departing but for this instance I feel that a good old British stiff handshake is appropriate. Nothing more and anything less. No sooner had Miss Cardboard Box introduced herself and she was gone. It was clear she came over at a point I would be most vulnerable without my man by my side but I held my head high and made sure she knew I was the upgraded, new and improved edition to his life. I was Queen and it felt fucking awesome!

The rest of the afternoon whizzed by in a flurry of speeches, idle chit-chat and awkward conversations with Mr. Cheese's parents that included grandchildren, joining in a family holiday this summer and Pappa Cheese dragging Momma Cheese by her hair like a caveman up to the bedroom after watching an episode of Countryfile. Note to self: If I am ever left in a room with Pappa Cheese and Countryfile is on - Be worried! Sadly I didn't have much more interaction with Miss Cardboard Box however when Mr. Cheese and I went to say our goodbye's I made a point of putting my arm around his waist and laughing at everything he said even if was about something unfunny. Making my territory known was key and I think that with the combination of drunkenness from the previous evening with added Prosecco, the lack of sleep and my insatiable appetite for sex the afternoon I think went better than ever planned in my head. I hope soon that I can arrange some events where by I can play my cards close to my chest and getting to know a little more about Miss Cardboard Box. What do they say about keeping friend's close?!

Speaking of friend's, after departing the most formal party I think I have ever been to in my life, Mr. Cheese and I headed back to London to meet some friends of his for the rest of the weekend and Bank Holiday. An evening with one of Mr. Cheese's old University pal's was informative since Ghana is defiantly on the table for the boyfriend later on in the year. I think it helped, especially since the old Uni-Buddie had gone out to the country a few years prior. Indulging in some Mexican food and talk of the excursion to Ghana made me feel a little pushed out of the conversation for a while, green for the fact I was not invited along on the lone trip and fearful of what it holds for our relationship together with Mr. Cheese. Awkwardness arrived though as the Uni-Friend asked if I was going to be joining Mr. Cheese on his travels even for a short time. Looking at one another I returned my gaze to my plate, pushing around Chimichanga as I waited for Mr. Cheese to answer. He did not. I don't know how to take it but I know the answer is that I wouldn't be welcomed on the African adventure. And so Ghana is still an unresolved though now slightly less scary problem. 

Today however has been a new day and with that brought me a huge epiphany of which I have never experienced before. Although that is a far cry from the following week. Last Monday as you all know, I started my new job of course and once completing my first full week's work I was glad to be finally back in work and have really enjoyed being at the desk and managing work life. I love it and I know I am looking forward to going back tomorrow after the Bank Holiday Weekend here in rather sunny England. Wednesday evening however was not so glorious as the weather. With the settling issues of my previous blog post hanging over me and with Mr. Cheese wanting to talk it out properly I was ready to chat. However after asking simply what Mr. Cheese's agenda was for the weekend and if anyone of his friends he was plotting to see had actually made any concrete plan's I was blown away when he responded by flying off the handle at me stating that 'my stressing was stressing him out'! Last straw! I quite literally went from having a brilliant day at work and enjoying life to fizzing with anger and combined with the mounting feelings from the months prior that still hadn't fully been address I was ready to have it out with Mr. Cheese once and for all. Engaging through heated text's he admitted he was in the wrong and apologised but was almost too late as it seemed a bit half-arse and wasn't fully appreciating the magnitude as to which I was upset. Promising to call me and resolve our differences, I let it stew informing him that it was quite simple and that I don't have to be part of his ever-changing life plan's this weekend. The hours passed and as I curled up into my duvet that night thinking how much of a prick my boyfriend was I heard the voices of close friends mewing the mantra that I always used - If your not happy end it! Drifting off to sleep I knew the time had come to call it a day and break it off whilst still loathing the fact that we were going to bed on a less-than-warm-argument. And so my mind was made. I was going to end it. 

The following evening my phone rang as I was sat reading a magazine. Caller ID defined it as the unapologetic douche-bag. Chirping a hello at the other end I answered coldly. And that was the beginning of what I thought would be the end. I cried and explained everything about how I felt unappreciated, unloved, unwanted and undervalued. I explained how I hadn't really been happy since March when we made it official and that the combination of everything had got too much. I wanted out! Talking it through we made a promise to each other that we would try and make it work and do everything in our power to do so. After all, there must be some reason I haven't given up already before now. Apologising properly I went to bed that night with a tear stain face but with a comment I hold close to my heart. 

Things are better now and after leaving Mr. Cheese with his friends on the Embankment in London this afternoon I feel much better than I usually do. I don't know why. Even after a brief catch-up with Miss Chocolate and Miss Tatts whereby the conversation was all about why I am still with Mr. Cheese and that ultimately I am wasting my time on someone who isn't 'Mr. Right'. You see whilst the conversation went over all the same points Miss Tweedle-Dee and Miss Tweedle-Dumb go through with me on a nearly bi-daily basis I feel good about my relationship. Yes Mr. Cheese may not be as affectionate as I am and yes Mr. Cheese may not be my future but right now I really like him and want to make this work. I know that the sex isn't that great but that's something we can work on and can be improved. I can change that though. I'll just get on top and make it feel better. I wish he would go down-south on me more and I wish that he would give me some good old hard rough-and-ready but to be honest I think after talking this weekend with Mr. Cheese and discovering more about his earlier experiences in the bedroom department, it kind of explains why maybe things aren't as passionate in the bedroom as I like. The sex isn't awful and its got better over the months we have been dating. I only look forward to the days where we can go whole days spent in bed in a cycle of love-making, inside jokes and intellectual conversations that eventually lead to another round. I like him. I like him alot. I don't care what people say. I still like him. 

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx