A Tale of Sorcery & Spooks

Hello One and All, 

So after smacking my head heavy off the corner of the ice-rink entrance last week, I was dazed a little to say the least. Whilst Mr Warehouse was pissing himself, literally nearly dying from lack of oxygen due to laughing so hard, I was starting to feel the effects of such a crash landing. I had stopped for a little, more so to give my leggies a rest more than anything, although sitting down Mr Warehouse stopped laughing and made a comment about how I didn't look well. The truth was that I didn't feel well. I felt sick. Like as if I was going to vomit. My skin felt weird, like that kind of flu-ey skin you get when you are ill. I couldn't concentrate, my eyes desperately trying to focus on anything. Something wasn't right. Reaching up to my head I felt searing hot pain spread across my skull accompanying a huge lump. At the size of an orange, I began getting irritable, shaking for no reason. 

I decided that after some painkillers, although truth be told I really could have done with going to Accident and Emergency but I didn't want to worry anyone or spoil my Nephew's birthday. Snoozing most of Sunday, I knew that things were not good when on day three you still have symptoms. Returning to work on Monday was like a whole other challenge as for the first time all weekend I had to really focus my attention on something important, like my job. Answering the phone, listening and concentrating on the screens all became harder and nausea didn't help. NHS guidelines state that it's totally normal to have symptoms such as a slight headache, feeling nauseous or dazed and these can last anywhere up to 2 weeks. Where I was normally on the ball I simply couldn't take it in, sometimes taking several attempts to read the simplest of sentences, not good for a busy and fast-paced environment. As the week progressed I felt better but realistically I should have gone to the hospital. The problem is I do not get paid for being off sick, apart from statutory sick pay from the Government (£70 a week - But when I earn more than £70 a day there isn't much point unless I am dying). 

I am glad for the feeling of "normal" to return because Friday was Bestie time! Miss Tweedle-Dee and I headed for a day out, checking into a hotel for a cheeky sleepover and hanging out in the City until nightfall! My dinner date was at The Alchemist on Bevis Mark. Describing itself as a new home for The Alchemist’s unique brand of cocktail bars & restaurants in Aldgate, Bevis Marks naturally attracted curiosity and with a unique location, it was a natural choice - Standing out as a glint of pure gold amidst the charcoal & black suits of the London’s business district. Suffice to say that The Alchemist does its business in a decidedly different way. Walking in the impressive golden bar gave way to a quieter restaurant area and a beautiful outdoor terrace, a perfect place for glorious sun and warm summer nights. However, Miss Tweedle-Dee and I had to settle with the fading winter sun to sample a selection of exquisite cocktails and stunning food, all accompanied by a theatrical experience. 

Starting our evening early I entered a world of theatre as my "Sailors Punch" Cocktail told its own story. Inspired by the spirits & flavours within, the molecular madness in an augmented reality started when Sailor Jerry Rum, Banana liquor, Pineapple & Coconut Bristol Syrup, and a dash of Citrus all turned up on a weird lined coaster. But using the App I downloaded it turned my drink into a far-flung Desert Islands where Pirates poached and Mermaids Merried. Miss Tweedle-Dee made a great decision - The Banoffee Manhattan! Espresso sloshed with a good helping of Monkey Shoulder Whisky, a few squirts of Monin Banana, tickled with Briottet Banana and brought alive by the dreamy Banoffee Foam! 

To. Die. For. 

Not feeling hungry I opted for a sharing starter platter consisting of BBQ Wings, Nachos, Pork Bon Bons, Mac ‘N’ Cheese Bites, Halloumi Sticks and Veg Sticks & Houmous. Finishing up before making a dash to our evening entertainment I chose my final cocktail of the night - The Colour Changing One! Grey Goose Vodka twisted with Briottet Apple, splashed with Soda, sparkled with Citrus and a little sprinkle of Magic. had this dry-ice drink changing colours from deep navies into vibrant pinks and mysterious purples. Watching the time we fast-walked to Aldgate Station to meet a man. Sounds creepy by we were actually about to encounter something much, much spookier as we dove into 1888. 

A Christmas present to my future Maid Of Honour, the Jack the Ripper walk offered a truly atmospheric route.  Miss Tweedle-Dee and I were guided (along with others, that would just be weird) into the old, narrow alleyways where we most certainly felt like we had been transported back to the mean streets of the Victorian East End. Along the tour, our guide, an ex-MI5 police investigator and anti-terror detective accompanied us to the murder sites and locations related to the Jack the Ripper murders. Learning more than just about the murders, I must say after doing so many different versions of the Jack The Ripper tours over my years of fascination, the guide - Who had served not only in the police force but undertaken military exercises including Afghanistan, Belfast and the Falklands - an almost exact background to my father, was incredible. Hosting several investigations into who the Ripper was and having detailed documentaries under his belt diving into the possibilities and struggles the forces had in catching him I was enthralled. By the end of the walk, not only was I exhausted and in need of my bed, but I also wanted to take this guy out for a pint and listen to all his fascinating stories and tales.

By the following morning, I was refreshed after a wonderful sleep in the hotel and after a light breakfast, Miss Tweedle-Dee and I departed, but not before commenting on how we should do something like that again. I mentioned a weekend in Edinburgh - Castles, Instgram-worthy photoshoots and Haunted tours galore. But the long journey and costly expense of it all wasn't something that was within reach at the moment, especially since Miss Tweedle-Dee is only a few months off being a fully-fledged adult like moi and having a mortgage. Maybe we will have to park that on the shelf that requires bigger bank balances along with sleepover's in deranged Liverpool mental asylums and hunting down a UK Horror Convention. 

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

London - Practically perfect in every way ...

Heyy, 

With many wedding plannings afoot, Mr Warehouse and I decided to take a break and head to London for the day, partly to celebrate Valentines Day, our last as a Fiancee and Fiance, but also as a Merry Christmas Pressie to our Beau. I had promised him that I would take him to go and see his favourite Disney film in theatres - Mary Poppins! As the website suggests Disney and Cameron Mackintosh’s have collaborated in order to create a multi-award-winning musical. Playing at the Prince Edward Theatre, this is the timeless and magical story of the world’s favourite Nanny. Being triumphantly and spectacularly brought to the stage with dazzling choreography, incredible effects and unforgettable songs. MaryPoppinsOnStage.co.uk goes into detail about the cast, starring Zizi Strallen, returning to play the title role following great acclaim on the recent sell-out international tour along with co-stars Charlie Stemp as Bert, Joseph Millson as Mr Banks, Amy Griffiths as Mrs Banks and the legendary Petula Clark as The Bird Woman. "The stage production of Mary Poppins is brilliantly adapted from the wonderful stories by PL Travers and the original film.  It is co-created by Cameron Mackintosh and has a book by Oscar-winning screenwriter and Downton Abbey creator, Julian Fellowes. With a timeless score by Richard M Sherman and Robert B Sherman including the classic songs; Jolly Holiday, Step in Time, Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious and Feed the Birds with new songs and additional music and lyrics, including Practically Perfect, by the Olivier award-winning British team of George Stiles and Anthony Drewe."

However, as we attended the third ticket office we were met with the same response, and unless we were willing to pay over £150.00 PER TICKET then we were in no way going to be able to afford such an affair. Unfortunately the combination of booking slightly last minute and more so the fact of it being half-term holidays for kids, Londoners or otherwise, it was going to be damned impossible to get any sort of supposed discounted or cheap tickets. Disappointingly I accepted that it was not meant to be, but promised Mr Warehouse I would take him to see it again soon, maybe a weekday evening, before the play shuts for good in June 2020. 

Instead, we decided to grab Costa Coffee (well I did). Indulging in the new Valentines Day inspired drink, made with Ruby cocoa that gives the drink a stunning natural rose pink colour - The new Ruby Hot Chocolate. Infused with sweet berry flavours, crowned with a swirl of cream and finished with red shimmer chocolate curls it certainly was not Slimming World friendly. 

Following our little pitstop, I decided to take my future Husband to the wondrous world of Borough Market with all its tidbits and nibbles. As its website reveals, Borough Market is rich with history, but it remains as relevant now as it has ever been. As London’s oldest food market, it has been serving the people of Southwark for 1,000 years, and that extraordinary heritage is an important part of its appeal. However, despite the array and variety of the food on offer, it was far, far too busy for Mr Warehouse to even entertain eating something overpriced and Hipster and so we left, empty-handed and slightly hungry. 

Next stop, throughout the horrendous weather storm Dennis was inflicting on us and the rest of the country was the Tower of London. Included in the ticket price (which we used a 2-for-1 offer, I ain't made of money) are captivating stories of pain and passion, treachery and torture on the Yeoman Warder tour, a chance to meet the famous ravens and discover why they are known as the guardians of the Tower and a once in a lifetime opportunity to see the breathtakingly world-famous collection of 23,578 gemstones and crowns of the state. 

The weather truth be told was horrid, that frustrating combination of spitting rain and high-speed winds that made for a pretty miserable day out in the City. And so, following our visit we headed to the tube in search of Absurd Bird in London's Soho District, something I have been begging to take Mr Warehouse to ever since I first tried in in Bath with Miss Tweedle-Dee during our trip to HMP Shepton Mallet (Haunted Happenings at Her Majesty's Pleasure). Advertising itself as "Deep South Fried Chicken, Wings, Waffles & Cocktails", Absurd Bird hit the spot, even for a weary Mr Warehouse who selected a Chicken burger and onion rings. For me, I was yet again met with disappointment as the waiter informed me that there was no deep-fried Babybel on the menu and that this was taken off several months ago, much to my dismay. Instead, I drowned my sorrows with an ABBuffalo Chicken Burger with spicy buffalo sauce, garlic mayo, lettuce, tomato, blue cheese served in a brioche bun with a tangy carrot & celery slaw. This was all washed down with a BOGOF cocktail, The Green Jubel: Vodka, melon Midori, kiwi syrup & apple juice. Shaken hard with lemon juice & fresh apples - Simply Delish! 

Heading home I was glad to be back in the 'Shire. Despite the darkness and black of the now night sky, I was glad to be out of the rat-race-mentality of the Big Smoke. Now don't get me wrong, I would never admit it, but I am glad I didn't follow my earlier dream of working in the city as a 20-something. I very much doubt it would be all Bridget Jones and Notting Hill, more likely than not I would have been stuck out along the ends of the tube, ages from the hustle and bustle. I would have grown tired of the corporate events, meetings and high-powered nature of business. Now whilst I imagine the money being good, maybe very good, I eventually would have grown frustrated with the price of everything including socialising and eating out, not to mention the fact I would have never been able to afford my own home. Granted the dating scene would have been plentiful, but I would soon have eaten through the Tinder profiles and POF dates, only adding to my city-frustrations.

Yes, certainly glad to watch from afar and enjoy city living for a few hours, maybe even a few days, but I am always glad to return to the greenery of home and the peaceful surrounds of Cranfield. Yes, I could have gone to the City, earned my money and come out again, possibly even man in toe; But I know I would have gotten far too used to the pennies and would have ended up living out the rest of my days in the smog of London, miserable and bitter not looking at people or making eye contact with whilst on the tube, all after I have raged on Instagram about having to wait 2 minutes for the next tube.

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

The Worlds Best Date!

Evening, 

Setting up the pups for a day by themselves and with the neighbours being left a key, my Mr Warehouse and I hit the road ready for the big smoke. Now, normally we would hire ourselves a cottage or a cabin for the weekend at about this time of year and head out to the countryside for a bit of rest and recuperation with a chance to reflect on another year being together. However what with the wedding and Christmas, we decided to have ourselves a day trip to London to celebrate instead. 

Starting our day with a cheeky trip to Camden Town, we hit up a chic and niche culture and even sampled some tasty delights of hipster North London. Unable to bring forward our Chocoholic Afternoon Tea in a top Paddington hotel, we stole a few moments in a greasy spoon cafe for a cuppa and to get out the chilly November air. As we sat and talked about our day, the conversation soon turned to the last few anniversaries and some of the memories we have had over the last half-decade. From trips and holidays to days mooching around our little starter flat - Most of it enjoyable and full of laughter. 

Soon it was time to head off, across the city on the London Underground in search of our Chocoholic Afternoon Tea. After walking past the scenic Hyde Park and Serpentine, we arrived early but only after Mr Warehouse had to pull me away from a posh pet store before I nearly bought the puppies presents and overpriced treats. Stepping inside the four-star hotel, we marvelled at the marble floor and high ceilings. Nestled in the idyllic corner of Queens Garden at Paddington, the Park Grand London Paddington offered the perfect calm to outside on the busy city streets and all whilst still being in the heart of all the buzz in the capital with bustling Oxford Street and the dazzling West-end only a short distance away. As Mr Warehouse and I sat after relieving ourselves from a bathroom stop, we wondered on the clientele and the rooms, although looking at the prices of £170 per person per night it would appear it was slightly out of our normal price bracket. 

Nevertheless, it was soon time to be indulged. The glorious waiter, a little Indian chap came along and offered us a choice of tea to pick from a snazzy looking box. Sitting back in the chair after he left I sighed and looked over to my Fiance. We were certainly relishing an unforgettable afternoon in London and as our decadent chocolate afternoon tea for two arrived we were perplexed when we were asked by our waiter if we would like our bubbly now or later. Confused we asked for it to be given later. 
"I thought this didn't come with Champagne?" Mr Warehouse asked to which I agreed and frantically began reading through the voucher details. Nothing. Maybe they were trying to swizz us and make us pay for an overpriced bottle of plonk? despite this, however, I accepted the seemingly free glass of Prosecco. 

Diving in and ignoring my Slimming World plan, our delightful afternoon was filled with delicious sweet and savoury treats. To start we had an array of freshly made finger sandwiches including a yellow, carrot infused bread and pink, beetroot infused bread, along with your standard brown and white. Inside was crammed with egg mayonnaise, chicken with bell peppers, tuna a la cucumber and cheese with houmous. More delights come on the second layer and whilst the website described the indulgent chocolate swiss roll, it was nowhere to be seen. Instead, we had two massive warmed chocolate scones, a smooth milk chocolate moose topped with berries and a slightly dry, chocolate and banana loaf bite. But, to top it all off was a cute little selection of petit fours consisting of chocolate brownies, macaroons and a mini key lime pie. 

Sat in our window box seat in luxury surroundings I just simply couldn't fault the utterly wonderful service. The afternoon tea had been a scrumptious treat and all the better when the waiter came to top up our prosecco and leave the bottle on the table. Returning with I asked rather baffled if the whole bottle of Prosecco was included and to mine and Mr Warehouse's surprise he said yes! Winning! I didn't think that the voucher Miss Tweedle-Dee had got us included any booze, let alone a whole stinking bottle. Over the moon, we chin-chined our way through and by the end were a bit of a mess, stumbling out onto the streets of Paddington, half-cut and still daylight.
Honestly, everything combined was the best Afternoon tea I think I have ever had and Mr Warehouse agreed. Just impeccable. 

Giggling all the way back to the tube we headed for part three, a trip to the London Dungeons. After blagging a freebie from someone in the village (all because I was too lazy to have found a two-for-the-price-of-one on the back of a cereal box somewhere) I was excited to have finally gone somewhere I have always wanted to go. Exploring the capital's most perilous past, Mr Warehouse and I were able to be fully immersed in the unique experience and able to see, hear, feel and even smell the chilling atmosphere as the characters of Ye Olde England came to life.

Starting in the year 1536 in medieval Britain, we were greeted by a gruesome Jester and taken to the basements of Parliament in the year 1605 and watched on as the actors told of Guy Fawkes and his plot to blow up the Houses where laws are passed and lives controlled (something I think many British people have thought about in recent times with Brexit looming). Onto the Torture chamber, we went to be met by a grizzly soul that informed us of certain methods used in order to obtain information. 

Wandering through the darkness into 1665, Mr Warehouse and I were met by the Plague Doctor with his long pointed beak and menacing look. Taken to the "Plague House" we were sneezed on and told of the misery that would await should we come down with such an ailment. Fast forward a year and its the 2nd of September 1666. Sparks from Thomas Farriner’s bakery in Pudding Lane have set the packed timber houses of London alight and the city has become a raging inferno with the plague rats scurrying and the helpless left to burn we experienced the sites and smells of what it may be like to be stuck inside a burning building - seventeenth-century style. 

"Now this was my era right here," I thought as my Date and I found ourselves in quaint surroundings, although this wasn't no dream but a nightmare as we noticed our surroundings were of Mrs Lovett's infamous pie shop. With Sweeney [Todd] upstairs in his barbershop, I was sure of our next fate on Fleet Street. Heading into the seats I could hear children screaming and crying as the dramatic settings and surroundings had become too much for their little heads, I however was loving every moment of it. Finishing up our hair chop cut, myself and our group headed to 1888 and Mitre Square in particular where Jack The Ripper stalked. Whitechapel was not a safe space and soon more victims would be added to the list of the dead. 

The final stop was 1783 (don't know quite where the chronology has gone but nevermind) and we were met with The Long Drop. One of the only rides that was working when we were at the Dungeons I considered not doing it, simply because  had done ride like this in the past and hated them, however not wanting to look like a pussy, I sucked it up and accompanied a pompous Mr Warehouse to the coaster where an exhilarating vertical free fall drop ride awaited us. 

Heading out of the establishment I was disappointed in the extortionate prices for photos, and, even though it was priceless now I look back on it, I couldn't have justified twenty-quid for a photo of Mr Warehouse looking like he was screaming his lungs out on the ride (which he was by the way). Hunger had yet to take ahold so we cancelled our further plans for dinner out and headed home to the fur-babies. Five years has seemed to slip by so easily and yet it already feels like a lifetime. I am so glad to have Mr Warehouse as my Fiance and cannot wait to be this time next year a Wifey!

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

The Goldilocks of Dress Shopping

Heyy!

Standing in line, I was surprised that the queue was not longer considering this was the biggest wedding show in the UK - The National Wedding Show. With everything a bride and her entourage could every dream of under the beautiful glass-domed roof of Olympia London I was in awe of the venue and looking forward to walking around sampling champagne whilst looking at all the different suppliers and vendors. Amazing wedding dresses, stunning catwalk shows, expert advice and all with free tickets in hand. 

As we entered the lobby area, I was more than ready to elbow out my fellow brides in order to get special show offers, help and advice from over 250 wedding specialists. However on walking through into the Grand Hall and after about an hour or so of walking around as well as watching the first catwalk show I have to say that I was quite disappointed. On my long list of suppliers and vendors to hunt out in order to apply for competitions or sign up for freebies were quite a few that were not present at the London Olympia National Wedding Show. Krispy Kreme doughnut stand was missing and the authentic Italian ice cream man was also lost. 

"Nevermind though I thought", walking back from a cigarette break outside "there are lots of stunning dresses at multiple stands that I am sure I can try on". I suppose part of me was correct - Yes there were lots of stands and yes there were lots of dresses however most if not all of the guns on offer to try on we're all a UK size 14 or under. And by this standard assuming that the rule still applies that for your bridal gown should be at least two if not three dress sizes bigger than what you normally are on the High Street or in normal clothes. This, in turn, would mean that I would have to be a UK size 8 or size 10 in order to try on any of the wedding dresses at what was advertised as the UK's biggest wedding show. Somehow I think not!

The more I think about this fact, both then and now, it infuriates me. People (unlike me on this occasion) pay good money and even take time off of work to travel far and wide to a wedding show where they claim to have the widest variety of suppliers including wedding dresses and bridal wear specialists and yet only choose to supply a few gowns in a few small sizes not catering for anyone else. Here in the UK, our average dress size for a woman is around about a size 16 which would roughly be equated to wearing a wedding dress or bridal gown in a size 20 to 22. Now, why is that not reflected? 

Nevertheless, Mrs Tweedle-Dumb and Miss Tweedle-Dee struggled on with me, sore feet and aching arms from all the books and leaflets we were carrying around. After an hour or two of walking around the same vendors flogging the same old stuff we were all bored and with not much more inspiration to suck from the place we decided to bounce. I would say in the experience of The National Wedding Show was mediocre at best and am pleased that I did not pay for tickets as if I had I think I would have been even more disappointed than I was. Looking back on some of the other wedding shows that I have been to both in my local area and a few miles out, I have always been able to get a lot more out of small local independent's rather than what is classed as the UK's biggest! 

That being said however that this wedding show is perfect for those that have recently got engaged or haven't a clue where to start on their wedding planning journey, but a word of wisdom to my fellow Brides or Brides-to-be out there - Make sure that you do your research and if you are not prepared to pay megabucks then maybe consider a local wedding show or fair before heading to some of the National big boys as I can almost certainly guarantee that you will be able to find exactly what you are looking for by a friendly and local supplier ready and willing to take on your business. They will be just as capable as a supplier at one of the National wedding shows and yet will probably charge a lot less for something it just as special for your big day without a massive Price Tag and will probably care a little more too!

Calling it a day Mrs Tweedle-Dumb, Miss Tweedle-Dee and I decided to head over to the Westfield shopping centre in order to grab some dinner and a spot of shopping before heading home for a sleepover - Just like the good old days! The following morning I anticipated coffee and a light breakfast before heading out with my maid and matron of honour to try on wedding dresses! I was keen to get a few visits booked in especially when I have both of my besties on hand for gentle criticism and polite judgement. 

The first Bridal Boutique we stepped into we were all offered a cup of coffee which was much needed as we had not had any of the light breakfast I had intended due to waking up late. Walking around the store cloaked in wedding dresses and feeling as though I was Mr Tumnus in Narnia, there was not much is anything at all in my size and so I grabbed a couple of dresses just to make it seem as though we have not come for a free coffee. 

The next bridal shop Mrs Tweedle-Dumb and I left Miss Tweedle-Dee in the car for a nap as I was certain that she was suffering from a lack of caffeine and a poor night's sleep on my crumby sofa-bed. This store seemed much more positive as its ethos was to help the plus size lady find her dream dress. But just as the first so had been too small, the second store was way too big catering for up to a UK size 30! I did, however, fall for a few gowns there although there are no pictures as apparently, the designers get very funny about photos being taken something I personally think is a crock of shit. 

Stepping into the final score of the day was my Goldilocks moment and with this in mind, I picked out 4 or 5 dresses that I was happy to try on and headed through to the dressing room. Each of them I tried on and each of them I loved more than the last. However despite Mrs Tweedle-Dumb, Miss Tweedle-Dee, the lady who was helping me, and her colleagues all telling me that I looked beautiful and stunning, I just wasn't feeling it. With each curtain swish to reveal the outfit, I could tell Miss Tweedle-Dee was growing impatient and that she wanted me to buy. The dress in question was Letitia. The exclusive Platinum Edition waterfall ball gown was the ultimate princess wedding dress. With long creamy folds and layers detailing the skirt and the luxurious bodice, encrusted with beaded embroidery adding the perfect sparkle I could see her point. But with the biggest expense so far I was hesitant to say yes to the dress. Mrs Tweedle-Dumb took one look at me however and said exactly what I was thinking, reading my mind like a novel. 
"You are wondering if it is too early to say yes and that if there is something else better out there. I know that you are thinking about this and that it is something you are concerned about. Let me ask you one question though - If you were to be in the same position, standing here this time next year, I know you would not be as hesitant." Mrs Tweedle-Dumb said, softly but stern. And like that, it was an arrow to my heart. Having Mrs Tweedle-Dumb and Miss Tweedle-Dee there knowing that they knew me better than I even knew myself was somewhat scary yet comforting. 

Having Mrs Tweedle-Dumb home the last couple of weeks has been incredible and having her and Miss Tweedle-Dee around more times than I think I could shake a stick at has been wonderful. But alas all good things must come to an end. By the end of this week Mrs Tweedle-Dumb will be back home in sunny L.A. It will certainly be different not to have her around but I am sure it will not be long until we are all reunited and yet in the meantime I am sure that Miss Tweedle-Dee and I will have plenty of fun - Wedding or not!

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx 

Playing with the big boys

Evening!

So I am sure that you are all very excited to hear the next instalment of my wedding planning journey accompanied with all the trials and tribulations you would expect in planning the biggest day of your life. However following some sad news a few weeks ago regarding one of Mrs Tweedle-Dumb's relatives passing away unexpectedly, my best friend and bridesmaid will be flying home within the next few hours. 

Personally, I was not really close to Mrs Tweedle-Dumb's family member but would have liked to go to the funeral in order to provide some comfort and support her family as they have for me over the last few years. Unfortunately, a combination of meetings that cannot be postponed and lack of annual leave means that I am unable to, however, that does not necessarily mean that I do not feel bad about Mrs Tweedle-Dumb having to return under these circumstances, especially on her own.

Her imminent yet unanticipated visit back to the UK is not only a chance to say goodbye to a much-loved member of her family but also to indulge in some QT with friends to maybe take her mind off other matters, if only for a short while! With this in mind, I have booked ourselves tickets to the biggest wedding show in the UK - The National Wedding Show. With everything a bride and her entourage could every dream of or need to plan the perfect wedding under the beautiful glass-domed roof of Olympia London. Amazing wedding dresses, stunning catwalk shows, expert advice and the chance to meet your potential wedding suppliers face to face I couldn't pass this chance up, especially with free tickets. I will certainly be sure not to forget to take time for a glass of bubbly in The Champagne Bar! 

Amongst some of the vendors and exhibitors at the event, my fellow Brides and I can shop hundreds of the UK’s finest wedding suppliers & bridal brands covering everything from dresses to cakes. With inspiration, help and advice from over 250 wedding specialists, thousands of dresses from all the leading designers and a showstopping catwalk to experience the latest bridal trends with groomswear, accessories, make-up, hair and more it will certainly be a long day, but worth it. 

Who knows maybe I will find the dream dress? The one. The absolute epitome of perfection that screams my name without even me wearing it! After the last visit to try on wedding dresses, I am keen to get a few more visits booked in especially when I have both of my maid-of-honour and chief bridesmaid at my disposal. Whilst finding the perfect wedding dress is essential to my big day, The National Wedding Show may be the best place to start. 

An unrivalled selection of bridal shops and designer labels brought together under one roof means me and the girls can explore hundreds of different designers, styles, colours, lengths, embellishments, accessories and more, all in one place. With something to cater for every taste, every budget and every style, fingers crossed I’ll find the one!  I can try on as many dresses as I like with no appointments necessary and I am sure that many exhibitors will be running exclusive at-show discounts and offers. The stunning catwalk show will also be a great place to hit up and take the weight off and judging from the website will be featuring dresses from David’s Bridal, Lady Bird, Halo and Wren and many more. 

Here's hoping that deep-V Morilee satin gown is in the sale for under my five-hundred quid budget. Although to be fair when I saw it at a wedding fair last weekend and a few weekends ago also the price tag was well over £3,000.00. Even if I am not able to find my dream dress in the next few weeks whilst Mrs Tweedle-Dumb is over then I will have plenty of time to have another look around and check out some sales before I need to get serious about buying my dress, although I suppose I need to wonder where the dreaming and playing in white dresses stops and the buying starts. 

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx 

Boiling Blood and Melting Hearts!

Heyy, 

Booking some much needed time away from my desk and off work was certainly what the doctor ordered. With the last few months being a bit of a whirlwind in terms of emotions and life events and as suggested by several people including Miss Hackney and Miss Sugarcoat, I decided a couple of days off for rest and recuperation to relax has been beneficial. 

I did have a few things planned and on Wednesday I booked to get my hair done, but alas a relaxing afternoon in the hairdressers chair was postponed due to the fact of my hairdresser being poorly. As frustrating as that was it was annoying even more so as it was slap bang in the middle of the day at two in the afternoon and after it was cancelled with only half an hour to spare or so there was not much else I could do with my day. I suppose if I was a little bit more organised with my time then I could have found someone that would be able to do me a new 'do however I decided not to and just rebooked for a couple of weeks time. Here's hoping that none of my colleagues have the 7th of August off fingers crossed. 

Along with a nice long lye-in and some more crap daytime TV, Thursday started with going to my usual counselling sessions and therapy, although this week was the first of the NHS Treatments. The meeting itself was quite matter-of-fact and went through the different kinds of therapies the government in the UK now offers. Everything from group therapy sessions to CBT as well as one-to-one counselling and therapy however the waiting list is extremely long. It was suggested that the group therapy sessions would be better for myself although the two hour-long sessions either in the morning or an afternoon on a weekday may not be possible with my work schedule at the moment. I also question as to whether I would reap the benefits with up to ten people in a group. I suppose that it is just one of those things I will have to try and see if it works or not, and on the plus side I get to hear about other people's sob stories which will ultimately make me feel better about myself as harsh as that sounds. 

In the afternoon I had a doctor's appointment to discuss my ongoing medication and going forward with treating my depression. As expected the doctor has suggested that I continue with my medication at least for another month or so with a a check up in a month or so. Whilst the medicine I am on has finally stopped making me feel queasy and nauseous and regardless of how I feel much better and more back to normal, I know that coupled with counselling and therapy I will need to continue my treatment with pills, at least for the short-term. 

As Friday soon rolled around, I was really looking forward mine and Mr Warehouse's to a spa day in London, courtesy in part to Nanny Pumpkin's Christmas present to us both. After using the voucher back in April when Mr. Warehouse and I went for our aweful spa day and afternoon tea (which was OK actually) hosted by the Loch-Stress Monster, I complained and the company who sold us the voucher agreed to offer a return visit to a selected spa of our choice. Booking it in last week, Mr Warehouse and I were excited to be spending some quality time together with what we expected to be a gorgeous fruit platter, welcome drinks and some relaxing treatments. Arriving at the spa in London's busy Soho District it was a bit of a palaver to try and find parking and get the tubes through to where we needed to be. By the time we arrived it was only moments before our first treatments which meant that we did not have enough time to explore the spa or indulge in some of the areas as listed on the website such as the ice cave, sauna, steam room, pool or relaxation area. In fact we didn't even have enough time to get anything to eat beforehand and since it was nearly lunchtime we were both famished. But it didn't matter too much since we had a lovely fruit platter and welcome drinks to look forward to ... Right?

Wrong! As we approached the spa reception in order to check in for our treatments, dressed only in our swimwear and flip-flops, my thoughts drifted to what sort of delights would be on our fruit platter and welcome drinks. A young woman in her mid-twenties checked us in and took our voucher code from us. On asking politely for our fruit platter and welcome drinks to be brought to us in the relaxation area, I was promptly told that the fruit platter and welcome drinks package were no longer offered and had been this way for about a year or so. This baffled me slightly as I had only booked spa day a week ago and already had a few email confirmations from another lady on site that clarified our treatments times as well as that elusive fruit platter and welcome drink. Seemingly not bothered at all the young girl called through to the top reception and spoke to the lady I had been emailing to clarify on the fruit platter and welcome drinks we were advertised when booking. In between the young girl holding the phone away from her ear and then putting it back again I thought about how I calling the customer service in this establishment is especially for Central London and what from the advertising of products and treatments did not seem to be a cheap place to spend your time. As the spa receptionist ended her phone call with the lady one floor up she explained again how the package was no longer offered and therefore would not be something if they would be able to accommodate despite priding itself on being in a central Westminster location with a prestigious postcode and a Tesco's only a moments walk away with all the fruit you could ever think of being on a fruit platter. I am almost certain that if even that was a stretch, that maybe a cup of tea or coffee would have sufficed but even this seemed to be a step too far and something that was not offered to us despite explaining the fact that we had not eaten anything in anticipation for the delicious package. 

Thus so far our spa day was shaping up to be a bit of a non-starter and considering this was a effort by the voucher company to restore faith in their products and services it certainly was not going well. Up until that moment, no one had showed us around the spa or what facilities they had so I asked if this would be possible. The young girl just simply sat behind her reception desk and added to the already lacking customer service by pointing to the different areas that we would be able to use. Walking around ourselves, Mr Warehouse and I explored the areas including the sauna, steam room, showers and relaxation area. I was extremely disappointed to learn that along with the fruit platter and welcome drinks the ice cave did not exist. There was little enjoyment to be found in the pool as there were several swimming lessons / classes going on and the rest of the pool dedicated to medium or fast swimmer lanes, something of which myself and Mr Warehouse were not told at the time of booking our spa day or indeed when we arrived. 

Frustrated and disappointed entirely we headed back to the relaxation area in order to try and unwind before our treatments. Whilst the spa was extremely clean and well kept there was a lack of facilities that were advertised on the website had been a major let down and combined with the fact that the relaxation area was centred right by the reception desk and the changing facilities made for a less than relaxing time with the constant noise of dryers, showers which wasn't ideal. Now I understand that a spa or similar type environments will need changing facilities, dryers and showers which generate noise, the presence of a cleaner hoovering and what can only be described as workmen either drilling or hammering something in an area down the corridor only disrupted us further. 

Even as Mr Warehouse and I attempted to get some peace and quiet, the clicking of the receptionist mouse could still be heard loud and clear, something which only reminded me of my own daily grind sitting behind a desk which hindered my ability to try and relax. I don't know, maybe it is just me but I simply cannot understand why you would have a "relaxation" area located somewhere that can still be polluted with noises from the daily coming and goings of what can only at this point be described more as a leisure centre than a spa facility. 

Quite frankly I just wanted to get changed and leave as what had planned to be a relaxing and enjoyable day together spending some quality time was certainly not what it cracked up to be. As I was called in for my back, neck and shoulder massage plus a full body exfoliation, I wasn't expecting much although I must admit that the treatments themselves were wonderful and helped to take my mind off of things - That was until I came out of the treatment room only to find out that my 55 minute combination of treatments had actually only taken less than 40 minutes, again leaving me deflated and upset with the level of service I have received. Mr Warehouse however did say that his treatments were lovely and that the lady had even taking extra care due to Mr warehouses skin condition, also gave him advice about his pedicure treatment and elaborating on how he can keep his feet in the best possible condition with similar and more regular treatments. 

As frustrating and disappointing as our spa day was, it was meant to be a happy time where we could relax and recuperate together, getting excited about finally getting a home of our own. I think that Mr Warehouse would join me in saying that the last few months life has been a poisonous melting pot of my mental health issues, Mr. Warehouse's own health worries mixed together with a good helping of work dilemmas, family problems and the stress of buying a house. 

Leaving thus far almost immediately after Mr Warehouse had finished his treatments, we headed to Battersea Dogs and Cats Home in order to say hello to some of the unfortunate friends of the charity. Wandering around and looking at all the doggies in their little cages made us so sad that we just wanted to take all of them home. I was quite surprised to see a good few greyhounds as I expected there to be more staffies and bull-type breed dogs. It turns out after talking to members of staff working there that the greyhounds had outlived their Racing days and therefore were cast aside due to no longer being able to compete. There were also a couple of smaller dogs which took my fancy including a German Spitz called Teddy, a cute Patterdale Jack Russell who was rather barky and a gorgeous Alaskan Malamute called Damien. Although sadly after having a conversation with one of the adoption ladies, we were told that the likelihood of getting a puppy would be slim to none as we work during the day and would need to be home in order to take care of it. I think for me at least, the fact that my puppy or new friend would be neutered is a bit of a sore subject as I would want a boy dog that I may or may not want to stud from in the future. I think that it is for this reason that I would probably more so get a dog from a registered breeder rather than a re-homing centre such as Battersea. Obviously with a few weeks left to go before we hopefully (fingers crossed) move house, getting a puppy or even a adult dog is certainly far from my priority list.

Suffice to say that I have enjoyed the time away from my desk and the constant ringing telephone with customers, however with that being said I am definitely glad to be back to work today and into the normal swing of things and a routine I am familiar with. That been said I better get a shifty on as I am due to be meeting Miss Tweedle-Dee for some sushi and a catch-up in an hour - No rest for the wicked 'eh?!

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

Terror Is What You Regret In Life!

Hallo Everyone, 

Lazing away my morning in bed I was glad of a Friday off work. Thrilling though it is, sometimes it can be nice just to have a break from it. But I couldn't lounge around all day, I had a train to catch!

Off to London I went, mini case and signature Eggnog Latte from Starbucks in toe as I boarded my train to The Big Smoke for the weekend with Mr. Warehouse whom was still hard at work and would be joining me later for dinner. I was looking forward to my weekend away with the boyfriend and even more-so to be spending Saturday evening eating German Sausages, Candy Floss and Fudge all whilst in the company of Mr. Warehouse, Miss Tweedle-Dumb, Miss Tweedle-Dee. And as if the couldn't be more exciting we were all going to be in the company of Miss Tweedle-Dee's most recent Beau. I was more than made up that my little Tweedle-Dee had found someone and was excited to meet her and experience Hyde Park's Winter Wonderland 2015 all together. I had also planned something for Mr. Warehouse that he was not expecting on Saturday which was going to also add to the magic of a relatively romantic weekend away before Christmas. Although in hindsight maybe everything from Six O'Clock on Saturday evening onwards should probably be swept under the Klusterfuck carpet and never spoken of again?!

Being pampered and getting my hair done was, as it always is (isn't it gals), a pleasurable experience and even more so when it only costs you fifteen-quid at a top London salon in the heart of Hatton Gardens - Jewellery quarter of the city. Strutting my stuff I barely had enough time to head to the hotel which was nearly an hour outside the city (hastily bought due to a discount and very heavy eyes on a Sunday evening a few weeks ago) and back into the city again before Mr. Warehouse arrived. 

Trotting down to the platform at Baker Street, transferring from one tube to the next I stood on the platform awaiting the 1704 to Farringdon on the Circle Line (Yellow), due in just under two-minutes. I couldn't wait to see my baby and have a lovely meal and maybe some cheeky cocktails before bedtime! But as I approached the platform I noticed from the corner of my eye something strange. There was a man. Standing there just behind the yellow safety line. He was white, dressed in muted tones, a Khaki coloured, large, bulky coat covered him. His eyes were wide, like a deer stuck in the headlights of an oncoming car down a country lane. He looked worried. Scared even. I looked away but something pulled my gaze back towards him. Then I noticed it. He had a rucksack on. 

I turned away not wanting to believe that I could have such horrible dark thoughts about someone. I was kind and loving and enjoyed making people laugh and smile. How could I think that of someone, especially someone I never even knew? 'He didn't look like a terrorist? Did he? But then again - What do they look like?' I thought silently to myself. Trying my hardest not to be judgemental I thought that maybe if I spoke to him he would give something away that would enable me to realise I was just being silly and that he was just a normal bugged-eyed human being like me?!

"Excuse me, Sorry but do you have the time please? My phones just died" I asked the stranger, lying through my teeth as I hide my luminous, 78% battery life-d phone in my coat pocket. 
"Yes, its coming up to Five O' clock" he replied, gentlemanly with a normal, English accented voice. 

It didn't work. I still felt uneasy in his company on the platform. Swamped with thoughts the announcement for the tube blasted out over a tannoy and I was face with what was now seeming to me to be a very real life or death situation. I had built it up so much by this point I was expecting it to happen. Watching him shuffle from foot to foot as I recalled the rest of the passengers seemingly unaware of the turmoil I faced as the tube roared onto the platform - 'If I get on this tube, I may die!' 

It was something I had never considered ever in all the times of coming to London, even when visiting Mr. Cheese every other weekend. I had never felt so vulnerable and unsafe. If I missed this tube and waited for the next one I would almost certainly be late, ensuring and argument with Mr. Warehouse after leaving him to wait in the cold darkness of Farringdon Station awaiting my arrival which he did not know well. Alternatively I could board the tube and everything would be fine, I would alight a few stops down and I would arrive on time if not early, therefore impressing Mr. Warehouse and getting the evening off to a good start. with seconds to spare and the door alarms screaming in my ears I ran to get into the carriage. 

As the doors closed I looked across to my fellow passenger. It was the same man I saw on the platform, only now under the lights of the carriage I could see clearly that there was a small, perfectly square box in his jacket pocket. I caught his gaze. A cold steely stare from those bulging eyes. Even before the tube had set off I noticed beads of sweat forming on his brow. He had not ran anywhere. And it certainly did not feel so warm that you would break out into a sweat. He took his hand from his pocket and wiped his brow. But as he placed it back in his squared pocket I noticed that he was tapping his fingers, drumming them rhythmically along the yellowed bar of the carriage. He looked nervous. Again looking around everyone was oblivious to the fixation I had with this man. Looking back towards the doors I could see they were open. I tried moving closer to them but it was no use. I was stuck. Jammed in with commuters, tourists and the like of rush hour people traffic in London on a Friday evening. 

As the doors closed I turned back around and caught my own reflection in the glass. There I was. Twenty-Four. A little on the podgey side, but better than being stuck on a constant diet of gluten-free this that and going to the gym. I had people who loved me. My father. My grandparents and family. My Mr. Warehouse. My friends; Miss Tweedle-Dumb and Miss Tweedle-Dee. My work colleagues. I never had children, or the chance to be a mother. I never got married and felt what it was like to have someone call you their wife. I would never get my white picket fence and lovely four-bed fully detached family home. I had got my hair done real nice, dark chocolate in colour and with a slight curl for my date night with Mr. Warehouse. It cost me fifteen-pounds. What a waste that would be if the only place anyone ever saw it was in a body bag, pieces of me all contained after the explosion. It may seem silly and over-reacting now, but right there in that moment it seemed so damn real I was shaking where I stood. I was scared. Scared of dying and living with regrets of never being able to get to that point in my life where happiness was every day. 

After what seemed like minutes I was jogged forward as the tube started moving and with that I instantly looked at the man in the Khaki Jacket and Backpack. What I saw next terrified me more than anything I had seen so far. The man that I barely knew, that I had lied to just so I could gauge his person, began to cry. Silent, wet tears spilled over from his bulging eyes as he looked back at me in utter despair. That was it I knew that I had to get off this tube and as the next station approached I poised myself for a click. But it never came. Instead the platform arrived and I flung myself through the crowds to the doors and to what I presumed was safety. 

As I walked down the platform and away from the tube I waited in anticipation that it might happen now. It didn't. As the tube rolled off in the direction I needed to go I waited for the next one, keeping an ear out for any loud or suspicious noises. Nothing. 

As I sat on the next tube that came along I was overtaken by a feeling of guilt and disgust with myself. I had judged someone on what they were wearing and what they had in their pockets. I had persecuted someone (albeit in my head) based on their body language and the fact they were carrying a rucksack on their back. 'He may have just had a bad day? His dog might have died? He might have had some bad news?' I tried to reason with myself and could come up with nothing more than the question that if anyone else was faced with that situation; Eyes wide, pupils dilated, sweaty palms and forehead, huge coat and a rucksack coupled with a nervous disposition and deathly silent tears rolling down his face - Would you have stayed on board to await your fate?

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

A Lazy Weekend Of Not Doing Much At All!

Hello Dears!

Last week was a very productive, very forward planning weekend and despite having spent little or no money (well ... maybe a few pennies) I felt as though Miss Tweedle-Dumb and I had a good shopping trip all round. And as I write this she is probably soaking up the warm-er weather of Rome with her boyfriend. So Jealous! 

But you would think that after finding out I had new boobs, or at least the rediscovery of boobs that were there but not cared for, I would have an equally planned out weekend including Christmas preparation and wrapping and present buying all tied up in one. and truth be told I did have that planned although after being told that I was no longer working my second job on Saturday morning I sought no need to get up early and head out the door and so therefore spent the entire day in bed. I only braved the chill of outside the duvet a handful of times, either for food or the bathroom. 

Soon enough though my alone time was over as Mr. Warehouse crashed through the door from work, soaking wet from the torrential down pour outside and chillier than a penguins freezer. And so after making mozzarella filled meatballs with spaghetti, my lovely Mr. Warehouse came and joined me in my bed. Snuggling up under my duvet watching rubbish TV made me realise that I do really care for him and as I began to get a headache I saw just how much he cared for me also as he swaddled me in a cosy blanket and made me melted chocolate buttons (which is my fave!) Such a sweetie! We finally finished watching the Fast and Furious box-set we had been lent several weeks ago and after much deliberation I had come to the conclusion that The Fast and The Furious: Tokyo Drift makes absolutely no sense and as a female, watching along with a male, I am still incredibly confused as to what exactly it's point in the saga is. I just don't get it. Some South-American Hill-billy guy goes to Tokyo, makes friends with Bow-Wow and drives a significant number of cars less than Vin Diesel, whom I might add, like the rest of the Fast and Furious cast including Paul Walker (RIP), Michelle Rodriguez and Samantha Vincent are seemingly missing in action on this film? Albeit it was an OK film, but I will be honest, the only reason I watched it was for the sequence of events that lead up to Fast and Furious 7. 

In fact, thinking about it now I would like to think that my baby brother would be proud of me for asking, if not begging for those films to be played. Sometimes I wish that it was him I was sharing a moment with, drinking a beer or two and enjoying a film we used to secretly watch as kids even if we weren't old enough. I wonder all the time what he is up to and where he is. I know roughly where him and the mother lives although I wouldn't dare try to hunt them down. Whilst I see my mother as a poisonous plant that needs to be stamped out, I know my brother should be left like a wild animal to become tame and discover himself before coming to find me, rather than me hunting for him and pushing a relationship onto him that he is not comfortable with. I hear through the grape-vine that he has passed his driving licence and whilst slightly miffed that he passed before I did, I am proud of my Little Bro' and all he has and will achieve. 

I enjoyed my relaxing weekend but this week ahead of me will be chocka to say the least. Tonight is standard Monday night blues as I mourn the weekend, remember how poor I am and rush something cardboard-y and horrible tasting for dinner. Tuesday and Thursday I am working at my second job this week if they don't decide to cancel it (the bastards). Wednesday you ask? Ahh yes. Wednesday I will be returning back to my Home-Town to visit some family coming over from Southern Ireland in which we shall share a Chinese and drink probably a few glasses in order to numb the drone of the bickering over something that doesn't wholly matter. But by the time my hangover has ended it will be weekend and after booking Friday off from work and reserving a hotel in London I will be thoroughly looking forward to my weekend away with Mr. Warehouse, especially Hyde Park's Winter Wonderland with The Tweedles and Friends!

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx