Hello one and all,
As my phone rang I was pleased my friends had made it, even if they were a couple of hours late. Answering the door and greeting them from their car Miss Tweedle-Dee and Miss Tweedle-Dumb waddled over with their stuff for our sleepover, and standing my communal porch outside my flat sparking up a cigarette before the dreaded three-flights of stairs to my loft apartment. I smiled to myself as I knew that this would probably be the last time we had to brave those steps.
"Why are all your lights off?" Miss Tweedle-Dee asked curiously.
"I don't know? Just haven't put them on since I got in from work. The TV is on though, cant you see the light?" I answered swiftly as to throw them off the scent with a cool yet panicked response. Changing the subject quickly we spoke about work and the weather and general niceties before stubbing out our fags. Welcoming them in I muttered about having to muster the courage to go up the stairs again. As my friends took to the steps I braced myself for what was to come.
"Guys. I have something to tell you!?" I said, face splitting into a smile that I quickly erased before they had a chance to look round.
"Oh my god, what is it now?" Miss Tweedle-Dee asked, shocked.
"Are you pregnant?" Miss Tweedle-Dumb asked frantic to know. No. I was not.
"Are you engaged?" She asked again desperate to discover my little lie. Nope. I am still happily a girlfriend to Mr. Warehouse. Suddenly the lights timed out as my bewildered bestie's stood wondering together in the darkness.
"OK well at least turn on the lights, I need to see your face when you tell me this." Miss Tweedle-Dee said reaching out for the switch.
"I have a confession to make and its something I have been hiding for a while" I noted, building up suspense. "I don't actually live here any-more!"
Confused I smiled mysteriously and as I was met by a barrage of abuse, questions and general foul language of confusion and non-comprehension I casually descended the stairs for the last time. Wiggling the key into the ground floor flat I turned and welcomed my best friends, Miss Tweedle-Dee and Miss Tweedle-Dumb, into my new home.
Shrieks and squeals came from both of them as they ran around, exploring and searching everywhere shouting and whooping all along. "Oh my goodness you have a garden. Oh wow a really big kitchen. Look at those twinkle lights. Amazing princess canopy bed! New wardrobe! How much more space we have for fun and games! Look at all the room!" and asking as many questions their little mouths could talk - How much is this more? Has Mr. Warehouse moved in with you? What is the bills like? Have you got a bath now rather than a car-wash of a shower? Are you getting a dog?!
After about half-hour of running round, being noisy and rambunctious, Miss Tweedle-Dee and Miss Tweedle-Dumb settled down and we talked for most the evening about my big reveal and the biggest surprise I have ever pulled on them. Laughing and giggling along I am glad that they were not mad, just overly excited and happy that I had moved into a 'big girls house'. And so that was Friday night. Soon we all headed to bed and awoke the next morning ready for some holiday shopping and coffee with cakes soon to be joined by a joyful Mr. Warehouse. But the joy was not to be had for long. Oh no ...
---
Sunday I had planned a day out for Mr. Warehouse's birthday which was just last month. I had it all figured out and it would be a wonderful sparkling day with no hiccups! Sadly this was not true. Boarding the not-so-fast-train to London we struggled to find seats so settled in a walk-through-corridor with two flip-down seats. Making light of this we chose to pretend we were in our own private carriage with two entrances and windows either side. Lucky really for the 0944 to St. Pancras! Alighting at our final destination we headed to the tubes and straight to our first point of interest - Piccadilly Circus but more specifically the wondrous Ripley's Believe It Or Not! London! Entering the venue we handed over our tickets and began our walking tour of the exhibitions and museum artefacts. Coming round one corner I noticed something spectacular. A full size replica of the Titanic made out of matchsticks. Next to it was a tank. filled with the same icy cold water that would have attacked the lost victims of that fateful night in April 1912. -2 degrees. Below freezing. Fascinated by the Ship's gruesome tale and all things Titanica I took no hesitation in plunging my left hand into the tank of cold, needle-stabbing pain. After thirty-seconds or so I could no longer stand it and wiggling my fingers in an effort to keep warm just made it worse. Freeing my palm from the Chlorine water I was thankful and glad that I could get out of that situation and get warm again, unlike the hundreds and thousands of people that died, alone in deep blackness of that starry night.
"Lets have a competition to see how long we can keep our hands in?!" Mr. Warehouse said, rolling up his sleeves. "But to make it fair use your other hand as your left one has already had a dip."
And so as I took off and placed on the side my precious Alurring Brilliance ring from Pandora I bought whilst in Las Vegas in March this year and Sterling Silver and Cubic Zirconia ring, very similar to the Droplets ring by Pandora that I bought from a little boutique in Lyon, France whilst there not even a fortnight ago. Talking my way through the competition with Mr. Warehouse I was determined not to be beaten but alas I had to get out after again less than a minute. Drying off my hand and grabbing my bag I moved onto the next thing to see and eventually Mr. Warehouse and I made it back to the beginning. Taking a walk down to Buckingham Palace we walked and talked about the evenings entertainment of a Magic Show in London's West End. But as I stepped out across the red gravelly sand of The Mall I couldn't feel my rings on my right hand. Where are they?! Pockets?! Back Pockets!? Handbag?! I knew though where I had left them. Frantically I called Ripley's Believe It Or Not! London, praying to god that they had been handed in by some kind, kind person. But after what seemed like an eternity on hold the sorrow female voice returned to say that nothing had been handed in and nothing was found at the Titanic freeze tank. Mourning my beloved jewellery I spent the next hour or so moping around. I tried to blame it on Mr. Warehouse, saying that if he hadn't asked me to compete with him in a stupid game of "me verses you" then I would not have taken them off ergo not leaving them on the side for some thieving little bugger to pinch them.
Beyond sadness and only barely consolable I was taken to a posh Champagne Bar overlooking Trafalgar Square. Comforted by Macarons and milkshake I was reflective on how much of an idiot I was but also how I did not want to spoil such a lovely birthday day trip with Mr. Warehouse. Continuing with the days activities, albeit slightly subdued in happiness, we continued through some more typical tourist hotspots to the four-star, Kingsway Hall Hotel in Covent Garden for dinner. Moping still and with my phone battery dying Mr. Warehouse had a cracking idea. Lets just get pissed. And so he took me to the best bar we knew in town - Adventure Bar, Covent Garden. We had been here before on our mini-break over Valentines day earlier in the year and fell in love with the place always remembering fondly that time we went to London and went for spontaneous cocktails that got us very drunk indeed. I feel now though that it is somewhat a right of passage whereby whenever we now come to London, Adventure Bar, Covent Garden will be another tourist must-see.
Gathering ourselves together we finally came to our end stop of the day - The Leicester Square Theatre to see Tim Barnes in Something Fishy: An evening of magic and wonder. A tincy-wincy little room, blacked out and holding only around thirty people we as an audience were shown a mirage of card tricks, fire magic, rope tomfoolery and surprises left both me and Mr. Warehouse mouths wide and aghast with questionable curiosity. Soon there was an assistant to be had and like the great Debbie McGee I stepped into the limelight and provided myself for the crowd. The magician, Tim Barnes, handed me a piece of paper with a prediction of which animal would be on a card I had just selected from a bag of children's picture cards. It was a rat. Doing as he said I placed it carefully inside a tiny black box and closed shut making sure the audience saw I had locked it tight. Swanning back over I was asked a series of questions and was given some information about animals before being asked to disclose my animal card. Then I was asked if I could retrieve the prediction from the little black box. Unlocking the catch and raising the lid I pondered on how I would unveil this ending to the anticipating crowd of people. but as I lifted the door of the box out popped a little nose. Then a whisker. Then an ear. Handling him gently I held up the live and very wriggly rat named Fifi. Black and White patches covered her body with silky smooth fur and as I petted her I wanted to take her home, imagining all the fun we would have in my new home!
Unfortunately Mr. Warehouse does not care for rodents, especially the ratty variety and jumped out of his skin as I raised the little cutie for all to see. Amazed and bewildered at how Tim Barnes had done it the audience looked on as I guessed that the small seem at the bottom of the box housed this little critter until the magical moment! Enjoying the lights and enthusiasm from the room of faces I reluctantly handed back the rat named Fifi and took my seat once more.
There were up's and down's but I enjoyed myself and especially when the best bit of the whole day was only £12.00 spent which is equivalent to two Starbucks and a muffin if your lucky. All in all I suppose it was a good day, apart from leaving my rings behind. Loosing something precious and meaningful that has not much monetary value but personal value in shed loads is horrible, and especially so when you know that you are the type of person to go and hand something like that back in so as to be retrieved by its rightful owner. But at least maybe I can look forward to brightening my mood slightly this week as it is my birthday on Friday. And whilst I will be turning the ripe old age of twenty-four I will certainly be partying and drinking my way through my first forty-eight hours! Bring on Mid-twenties!
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Showing posts with label Lost. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Lost. Show all posts
Monday, 14 September 2015
Monday, 1 December 2014
Christmas Is Coming!
Evening One and All,
And so as today is the first of December, most of you I am assuming will be opening up your Spiderman or Peppa Pig chocolate advent calenders with the wonder of what will be finally waiting for you when you have no more doors to open. Looking at my flat adorned with bunting and yule-tide decorations I am pleased with how perfect it all looks. Even my tree looks like its from posh department store (Photos can be found here) and topping it an angel no you can't buy from John Lewis. I think that I have near enough as to perfection here as I one can get to at aged twenty-three. And this weekend has been just as filled with merriment.
Finishing work on Friday Mr. Warehouse and his older brother, another work colleague of mine, picked me up and we headed over to Elstow, Bedfordshire for a poker night with the other lads from work. Suffice to say that this would be one of hopefully many joint engagements myself and the newly acquired Boyfriend would be attending. You see I think that is one of the things I love and somewhat miss most about being in a relationship. The joining together of two diaries makes for much more fun and as a complete self-confessed control freak myself I love being both the centre of attention and one of the first people to be invited somewhere. Pulling into a huge, newly built housing estate on an aptly named road after yours truly I arrived at a very expensive looking five-bed home I had been Google-mapping only hours before. Stepping into the home I longed for myself I gazed around at the bright lights, rooms full of colour and the long statement staircase that ruled the entrance hall. Gradually overcoming my awe I congratulated the home-owner on their taste and as food was ordered and we sat down to eat I was I think probably the first, and possibly the only person ever to ask for a knife when eating a kebab. It was still in it's polythene box for crying out loud. If there was ever an award for being commonly classy I think I would win it hands down!
Clearing down after dinner and helping out with the laying down of chips we proceeded into a very interesting and laddish game of Poker. A long game but one with intense stares and lying eyes. I thought that I might be fairly alright at Poker given the fact that I can lie easily and I knew most of the people I was playing with well since I worked with them most days. I was surprised to say that Mr. Warehouse stunned a few people with his ability to play his cards close to his chest and on a few occasions won a few rounds himself. But alas his luck was only as good as a three-leaved-clover, suffice to say that it all ended when Mr. Warehouse went all in and hedged all his bets in the hope of a straight flush. As first one out I felt determined not to be second to last and came a somewhat respectable third when I came to the conclusion enough was enough and that I wasn't going to win as easily as I hoped. With my other half twittering on in my ear hole I decided to take his advise and hedge all my bets in at once. falling flat when his brother wiped the floor with me and my silly ace and spades.
Upon finishing the game and before heading home we had a relaxing wind-down in the second lounge I might add, whereby the cat eating McDonald's fries was the last topic of conversation. I had a few drinks whilst playing Poker and Spoons so when it came to the downtime I certainly was not all there. With Alcohol flowing through my veins I tipsily made an error with the the home-owner and her pal and thought they might have referred to themselves as Herill and Cheryl. As a result the room was filled with pant-wetting laughter and snigger's at my mishearing but as I went to correct myself I realised I had been accepted somewhat into a new family and one I felt very, very at home with. Deepening conversation though, it seemed that whilst the ice was broken the water was too hot to dive into fully just yet. Questions that seem normal to most people but rather strange to me began to arise once again. They asked about my mother and why I never speak of her. They asked of my own family and of my background. Nevertheless though I was more than happy to tell all and whilst it would never be as in-depth as it should really be I spared the gory details of mine and my mother's background, not wanting to dampen the evenings mood. We all ended the evening on a high and after a few anecdotes to lighten the mood it was time to call it a night. And with that Mr.Warehouse and I left but not before Herill and Cheryl asked me to join them the next time they went out for dinner. Whilst I am sure this was just a throw-away comment it really made me feel happy and appreciated by not only a man, but his friends and family too. Sinking into Bed on Saturday and after a cheeky game of spoons ourselves, Mr. Warehouse and I dozed off without a care in the world. Even as I recall my moments with him I can smell the heady concoction of hand-cream and aftershave filling up my lungs.
"Finally!" I thought, as the car pulled up to the huge bright yellow supermarket in a town that looked familiar. It was Miss Tweedle-Dumb and Miss Tweedle-Dee, here to pick me up so we can hit up the sights and sound of Bicester Shopping Village in all its Xmas glory. Fixing my seat-belt I could tell the atmosphere was frosty but I knew that would be the case since it had taken me nearly two-hours to travel twenty-five from Bedford arriving as usual - Late. In the attempt to thaw out the atmosphere we hit the Christmas tunes big bringing out all the classics that were just as big when our parents were the same age. Harmonising together in the little blue Renault we felt as if we were in Destiny's Child. Whizzing through the lanes of Oxfordshire we arrived at our destination in good time all things considered and after a free park and ride on an old school double decker bus we were there. A quick toilet break followed by a much needed Starbucks and safe to say that the Eggnog Latte is still a winner in my books.
Eyes widening at the sights and smells of such a place as we walked and talked about all things festive. Staring through glass at beautiful things and watching as the queues lengthened for the biggest designer brands. Following a lazy lunch and a cigarette break we chose to start browsing. Myself and my Tweedles knew than none of us would buy anything but it didn't stop me falling in love. As Miss Tweedle-Dumb and Miss Tweedle-Dee tried on funny hats and giggled about the silly styles of clothes I pawed through rails upon rails of catwalk worthy gowns encrusted with sparkles and hand-crafted lace. I was in heaven, until I saw the sizes. And the prices. In Temperley of London I held in my deft fingers the closest thing to my ideal wedding dress I think I have ever found, seen or could even have imagined. Calling over the girls after a good ten minutes of jaw dropping admiration staring I couldn't believe how stunning it was.
Paper-thin silky straps held up a smooth, white bodice carefully lined with rows of diamonds and crystals glistening under the stores lights. An asymmetric hemline billowed with silky, cloud-like chiffon which shined. I was in love. My Temperley of London Bridal Gown. But at over £1,500.00 I unfortunately would not be calling it mine permanently and as the girls grew restless of my daydreaming we headed to Prada for some sneakers. Mourning my future bridal attire I found solace in Valentino. There it was. Hung on a railing taller than me I stared up at yet another china-white piece of artwork from the fashion world. This time my fingertips ran over slowly the soft, fluffy, angelic fur you have ever had the pleasure of touching. As I yet again entranced myself to the A/W'14 collection of Mr. Valentino Garavani's I couldn't help but notice my friends were not as enthralled by the fur coats. As I begged the gods to give me the money to buy a coat like this one, splashed with flecks of ebony black pellets across an otherwise whitewash of bleached Mink fur I realised that no amount of money would ever make it acceptable to buy. Not for me anyway. Searching for the price tag and hoping my friends might hang around long enough for me to try it on I nearly died when I saw the numerous digits. £12,000.00. Not only was that alot of money but as I left the shop and consequently discussed my sorrowful goodbye to my Mink fur winter jacket with the others I discovered that if I indeed did have the money I could afford to buy such an item I would also be able to pay for not one, not two, not three but four trips to Las Vegas with my girls. Or maybe a wedding itself including the Temperley frock. Or even as a deposit on a nice little starter home with my Husband-to-be. Or I could have had the coat!
As the night drew in Miss Tweedle-Dumb, Miss Tweedle-Dee and I all headed for the car hands empty and my heart ready to burst. An exhausting day down I headed home ready to hit my head onto that cold pillow of mine fresh for the shops of Bedford again on Sunday. But as manic as the shops were on the last day of the Black Friday Weekend I was able to do two good deeds in the form of buying some specialist chocolate advent calenders for a lady at work whose children seem to have allergies to everything and anything as well as return a lost handbag to a little old lady otherwise known as Mrs. Burridge of Bedford. So all's well that ends well and after an eventful weekend I am not stopping as the run-up to the big day begins I have little or no time to spare between working, working and socialising. Pheww! I don't know how I do it sometimes ...
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
And so as today is the first of December, most of you I am assuming will be opening up your Spiderman or Peppa Pig chocolate advent calenders with the wonder of what will be finally waiting for you when you have no more doors to open. Looking at my flat adorned with bunting and yule-tide decorations I am pleased with how perfect it all looks. Even my tree looks like its from posh department store (Photos can be found here) and topping it an angel no you can't buy from John Lewis. I think that I have near enough as to perfection here as I one can get to at aged twenty-three. And this weekend has been just as filled with merriment.
Finishing work on Friday Mr. Warehouse and his older brother, another work colleague of mine, picked me up and we headed over to Elstow, Bedfordshire for a poker night with the other lads from work. Suffice to say that this would be one of hopefully many joint engagements myself and the newly acquired Boyfriend would be attending. You see I think that is one of the things I love and somewhat miss most about being in a relationship. The joining together of two diaries makes for much more fun and as a complete self-confessed control freak myself I love being both the centre of attention and one of the first people to be invited somewhere. Pulling into a huge, newly built housing estate on an aptly named road after yours truly I arrived at a very expensive looking five-bed home I had been Google-mapping only hours before. Stepping into the home I longed for myself I gazed around at the bright lights, rooms full of colour and the long statement staircase that ruled the entrance hall. Gradually overcoming my awe I congratulated the home-owner on their taste and as food was ordered and we sat down to eat I was I think probably the first, and possibly the only person ever to ask for a knife when eating a kebab. It was still in it's polythene box for crying out loud. If there was ever an award for being commonly classy I think I would win it hands down!
Clearing down after dinner and helping out with the laying down of chips we proceeded into a very interesting and laddish game of Poker. A long game but one with intense stares and lying eyes. I thought that I might be fairly alright at Poker given the fact that I can lie easily and I knew most of the people I was playing with well since I worked with them most days. I was surprised to say that Mr. Warehouse stunned a few people with his ability to play his cards close to his chest and on a few occasions won a few rounds himself. But alas his luck was only as good as a three-leaved-clover, suffice to say that it all ended when Mr. Warehouse went all in and hedged all his bets in the hope of a straight flush. As first one out I felt determined not to be second to last and came a somewhat respectable third when I came to the conclusion enough was enough and that I wasn't going to win as easily as I hoped. With my other half twittering on in my ear hole I decided to take his advise and hedge all my bets in at once. falling flat when his brother wiped the floor with me and my silly ace and spades.
Upon finishing the game and before heading home we had a relaxing wind-down in the second lounge I might add, whereby the cat eating McDonald's fries was the last topic of conversation. I had a few drinks whilst playing Poker and Spoons so when it came to the downtime I certainly was not all there. With Alcohol flowing through my veins I tipsily made an error with the the home-owner and her pal and thought they might have referred to themselves as Herill and Cheryl. As a result the room was filled with pant-wetting laughter and snigger's at my mishearing but as I went to correct myself I realised I had been accepted somewhat into a new family and one I felt very, very at home with. Deepening conversation though, it seemed that whilst the ice was broken the water was too hot to dive into fully just yet. Questions that seem normal to most people but rather strange to me began to arise once again. They asked about my mother and why I never speak of her. They asked of my own family and of my background. Nevertheless though I was more than happy to tell all and whilst it would never be as in-depth as it should really be I spared the gory details of mine and my mother's background, not wanting to dampen the evenings mood. We all ended the evening on a high and after a few anecdotes to lighten the mood it was time to call it a night. And with that Mr.Warehouse and I left but not before Herill and Cheryl asked me to join them the next time they went out for dinner. Whilst I am sure this was just a throw-away comment it really made me feel happy and appreciated by not only a man, but his friends and family too. Sinking into Bed on Saturday and after a cheeky game of spoons ourselves, Mr. Warehouse and I dozed off without a care in the world. Even as I recall my moments with him I can smell the heady concoction of hand-cream and aftershave filling up my lungs.
"Finally!" I thought, as the car pulled up to the huge bright yellow supermarket in a town that looked familiar. It was Miss Tweedle-Dumb and Miss Tweedle-Dee, here to pick me up so we can hit up the sights and sound of Bicester Shopping Village in all its Xmas glory. Fixing my seat-belt I could tell the atmosphere was frosty but I knew that would be the case since it had taken me nearly two-hours to travel twenty-five from Bedford arriving as usual - Late. In the attempt to thaw out the atmosphere we hit the Christmas tunes big bringing out all the classics that were just as big when our parents were the same age. Harmonising together in the little blue Renault we felt as if we were in Destiny's Child. Whizzing through the lanes of Oxfordshire we arrived at our destination in good time all things considered and after a free park and ride on an old school double decker bus we were there. A quick toilet break followed by a much needed Starbucks and safe to say that the Eggnog Latte is still a winner in my books.
Eyes widening at the sights and smells of such a place as we walked and talked about all things festive. Staring through glass at beautiful things and watching as the queues lengthened for the biggest designer brands. Following a lazy lunch and a cigarette break we chose to start browsing. Myself and my Tweedles knew than none of us would buy anything but it didn't stop me falling in love. As Miss Tweedle-Dumb and Miss Tweedle-Dee tried on funny hats and giggled about the silly styles of clothes I pawed through rails upon rails of catwalk worthy gowns encrusted with sparkles and hand-crafted lace. I was in heaven, until I saw the sizes. And the prices. In Temperley of London I held in my deft fingers the closest thing to my ideal wedding dress I think I have ever found, seen or could even have imagined. Calling over the girls after a good ten minutes of jaw dropping admiration staring I couldn't believe how stunning it was.
Paper-thin silky straps held up a smooth, white bodice carefully lined with rows of diamonds and crystals glistening under the stores lights. An asymmetric hemline billowed with silky, cloud-like chiffon which shined. I was in love. My Temperley of London Bridal Gown. But at over £1,500.00 I unfortunately would not be calling it mine permanently and as the girls grew restless of my daydreaming we headed to Prada for some sneakers. Mourning my future bridal attire I found solace in Valentino. There it was. Hung on a railing taller than me I stared up at yet another china-white piece of artwork from the fashion world. This time my fingertips ran over slowly the soft, fluffy, angelic fur you have ever had the pleasure of touching. As I yet again entranced myself to the A/W'14 collection of Mr. Valentino Garavani's I couldn't help but notice my friends were not as enthralled by the fur coats. As I begged the gods to give me the money to buy a coat like this one, splashed with flecks of ebony black pellets across an otherwise whitewash of bleached Mink fur I realised that no amount of money would ever make it acceptable to buy. Not for me anyway. Searching for the price tag and hoping my friends might hang around long enough for me to try it on I nearly died when I saw the numerous digits. £12,000.00. Not only was that alot of money but as I left the shop and consequently discussed my sorrowful goodbye to my Mink fur winter jacket with the others I discovered that if I indeed did have the money I could afford to buy such an item I would also be able to pay for not one, not two, not three but four trips to Las Vegas with my girls. Or maybe a wedding itself including the Temperley frock. Or even as a deposit on a nice little starter home with my Husband-to-be. Or I could have had the coat!
As the night drew in Miss Tweedle-Dumb, Miss Tweedle-Dee and I all headed for the car hands empty and my heart ready to burst. An exhausting day down I headed home ready to hit my head onto that cold pillow of mine fresh for the shops of Bedford again on Sunday. But as manic as the shops were on the last day of the Black Friday Weekend I was able to do two good deeds in the form of buying some specialist chocolate advent calenders for a lady at work whose children seem to have allergies to everything and anything as well as return a lost handbag to a little old lady otherwise known as Mrs. Burridge of Bedford. So all's well that ends well and after an eventful weekend I am not stopping as the run-up to the big day begins I have little or no time to spare between working, working and socialising. Pheww! I don't know how I do it sometimes ...
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Tuesday, 16 July 2013
We Lost the Sheep ...
Good evening,
And what a good evening it is. Nearly a fortnight of beautiful weather here in the UK and hopefully it stays like that. I love how even though I love being British, somehow talking about the weather make me feel much more worthy of such a title. Over the weekend it got up to over thirty-degrees which is hotter than it was on holiday in Majorca. Anyway, enough about the weather, more about my week!
As with most week's I slogged it out at work just so I could make it to the weekend. And what a weekend it was. Reminded me of the good old days when your still paying for your drunken mistakes and dodgy dancing come Tuesday - Of which 'yes' I am still recovering. Now it was just meant to be some casual drinks round Miss Tweedle-Dee's house to celebrate her father's birthday but before we knew what had hit us gone was the relaxing cider on the patio sofa's and there we were on the lawn's doing shots of vodka. How on earth I was able to drink that stuff neat when I was fourteen in the park with the younger Tweedle's beats me. Its almost like drinking bleach, even when it is the premium brands. As the night progressed and the sun began to go to bed the night really started to come alive. Laughing and sharing stories began and before we knew it we had all booked a cab into the local town to hit up some pubs and clubs. As the taxi arrived outside the pub Miss Tweedle-Dee, Miss Tweedle-Dumb and I hopped out followed by the girlfriends of Miss Tweedle-Dee's brothers. A proper girls night out. Heading straight to the bar we all got some drinks in and started to dance with me acting as main cock-blocker of the night I knew it was going to be good fun.
After a couple of songs and once our bottles were empty we headed to the next bar along the High Street and again, up to the bar we went. Only as we walked in I made eye contact with Mr. Coffee's brother! Bit awkward given the last time we spoke he had just found out that Mr. Coffee and I had christened his bed for him. Not thinking any more of it I hit the dance floor with the girls whilst the Tweedle's grabbed some drinks. Sweating like a fat kid in a cake shop I knew I needed to use the little girls room and so made my way through the crowds to the bathrooms. A few minute later Miss Tweedle-Dee walks in and with a grin on her face says I have to come with her. Panicking that maybe she had found Mr. Coffee and was hoping I was going to have it out with him on the dance floor I obliged. She seemed happy though. Maybe it wasn't so bad. But as she lead me by the hand we came to the warm, muggy air outside the front of the pub. It was only now that I saw the two skinny ladies perched onto a wall, holding onto each other as they tried not to fall into the flower beds behind the wall. They had been chucked out and as a result Miss Tweedle-Dee, Miss Tweedle-Dumb and I were also out. Sighing we put our heads together to see what we would do next, but before we even had a chance to think properly we were told by the paralytic-drunkards that we should continue our night of mayhem. And so we headed back to the first pub we went into carry-on with the night.
A few hours in and I fancied some air and a cigarette so went outside. I could still see the rest of them, partying away without a care in the world. Even Miss Tweedle-Dee seemed to be enjoying herself, the one person who disagreed with our impromptu night on the tiles. Moments later I was joined by Miss Tweedle-Dee and Miss Tweedle-Dumb who also sparked up. I mentioned that someone should go back to the girlfriends and keep an eye on them, but we could see them from where we were sitting outside so it would be fine for the time being. That was until I went back in to find them. They were no-where to be found. The bar, toilets, smoking area, even the dance floor was free from their presence. Worried I went back to Miss Tweedle-Dee and Miss Tweedle-Dumb to see if they were there. The girls weren't there. Worried the Tweedles and I split up doing a wrecky one last time but still nothing. We had all there identification and money as well as their mobiles so they cant have gone far. Eventually after an hour of looking round the town we decided to head home and tell Miss Tweedle-Dee's brothers that we had lost their beloved girlfriends. Thankfully though by the time we reached Miss Tweedle-Dee's house the girlfriend's had been found to have made their own ways home. Realising it was too late to get a train home, Miss Tweedle-Dumb offered me her bedroom floor, and whilst cramped it was gratefully appreciated more than an three-hour wait on a cold bench at the station waiting for a train that may never come.
Also this week, after searching for both an abode and affection, I seemed to have stumbled across both. Wait around for ages and then two come along at the same time, eh? Now I know your dying to know about the 'Mr.' but its super earlier days so I shall not disclose anything yet. In terms of my new bachelor pad, I sent off my application forms and paperwork today and so should hear back pretty soon as to when I can move in, hopefully before the month is out.
It is a gorgeous, old Victorian property that is huge. It used to be an old boarding house for kids from the local towns and villages attending school in the town centre of Bedford so has buckets of character and maybe even a sneaky ghost or two? My flat is on the top floor and has a slanted roof, big sash windows that look out onto the back of the property, and enough room to park a plane. My own little home sweet home. I am so excited to move in I struggle sometimes to stay in one place at a time without buzzing about the place. I cant explain it. The feeling that I get when I know something is forthcoming as big as this just fills me with joy. I can tell I am going to be very happy there! I can finally do what I like, when I like and how I like it because I wont have to answer to anyone. I can eat chocolate and crisps for dinner. I can roll out of bed when I want to on a Sunday. Hell, I can even drink milk from the carton again and run around naked - Although I wouldn't want to make the neighbours sick, so maybe I shall keep my clothes on.
So fingers crossed that Miss Tweedle-Dee and Miss Tweedle-Dumb will come visit me in my new home, maybe then we can have a crazy night out on the town ...
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
And what a good evening it is. Nearly a fortnight of beautiful weather here in the UK and hopefully it stays like that. I love how even though I love being British, somehow talking about the weather make me feel much more worthy of such a title. Over the weekend it got up to over thirty-degrees which is hotter than it was on holiday in Majorca. Anyway, enough about the weather, more about my week!
As with most week's I slogged it out at work just so I could make it to the weekend. And what a weekend it was. Reminded me of the good old days when your still paying for your drunken mistakes and dodgy dancing come Tuesday - Of which 'yes' I am still recovering. Now it was just meant to be some casual drinks round Miss Tweedle-Dee's house to celebrate her father's birthday but before we knew what had hit us gone was the relaxing cider on the patio sofa's and there we were on the lawn's doing shots of vodka. How on earth I was able to drink that stuff neat when I was fourteen in the park with the younger Tweedle's beats me. Its almost like drinking bleach, even when it is the premium brands. As the night progressed and the sun began to go to bed the night really started to come alive. Laughing and sharing stories began and before we knew it we had all booked a cab into the local town to hit up some pubs and clubs. As the taxi arrived outside the pub Miss Tweedle-Dee, Miss Tweedle-Dumb and I hopped out followed by the girlfriends of Miss Tweedle-Dee's brothers. A proper girls night out. Heading straight to the bar we all got some drinks in and started to dance with me acting as main cock-blocker of the night I knew it was going to be good fun.
After a couple of songs and once our bottles were empty we headed to the next bar along the High Street and again, up to the bar we went. Only as we walked in I made eye contact with Mr. Coffee's brother! Bit awkward given the last time we spoke he had just found out that Mr. Coffee and I had christened his bed for him. Not thinking any more of it I hit the dance floor with the girls whilst the Tweedle's grabbed some drinks. Sweating like a fat kid in a cake shop I knew I needed to use the little girls room and so made my way through the crowds to the bathrooms. A few minute later Miss Tweedle-Dee walks in and with a grin on her face says I have to come with her. Panicking that maybe she had found Mr. Coffee and was hoping I was going to have it out with him on the dance floor I obliged. She seemed happy though. Maybe it wasn't so bad. But as she lead me by the hand we came to the warm, muggy air outside the front of the pub. It was only now that I saw the two skinny ladies perched onto a wall, holding onto each other as they tried not to fall into the flower beds behind the wall. They had been chucked out and as a result Miss Tweedle-Dee, Miss Tweedle-Dumb and I were also out. Sighing we put our heads together to see what we would do next, but before we even had a chance to think properly we were told by the paralytic-drunkards that we should continue our night of mayhem. And so we headed back to the first pub we went into carry-on with the night.
A few hours in and I fancied some air and a cigarette so went outside. I could still see the rest of them, partying away without a care in the world. Even Miss Tweedle-Dee seemed to be enjoying herself, the one person who disagreed with our impromptu night on the tiles. Moments later I was joined by Miss Tweedle-Dee and Miss Tweedle-Dumb who also sparked up. I mentioned that someone should go back to the girlfriends and keep an eye on them, but we could see them from where we were sitting outside so it would be fine for the time being. That was until I went back in to find them. They were no-where to be found. The bar, toilets, smoking area, even the dance floor was free from their presence. Worried I went back to Miss Tweedle-Dee and Miss Tweedle-Dumb to see if they were there. The girls weren't there. Worried the Tweedles and I split up doing a wrecky one last time but still nothing. We had all there identification and money as well as their mobiles so they cant have gone far. Eventually after an hour of looking round the town we decided to head home and tell Miss Tweedle-Dee's brothers that we had lost their beloved girlfriends. Thankfully though by the time we reached Miss Tweedle-Dee's house the girlfriend's had been found to have made their own ways home. Realising it was too late to get a train home, Miss Tweedle-Dumb offered me her bedroom floor, and whilst cramped it was gratefully appreciated more than an three-hour wait on a cold bench at the station waiting for a train that may never come.
Also this week, after searching for both an abode and affection, I seemed to have stumbled across both. Wait around for ages and then two come along at the same time, eh? Now I know your dying to know about the 'Mr.' but its super earlier days so I shall not disclose anything yet. In terms of my new bachelor pad, I sent off my application forms and paperwork today and so should hear back pretty soon as to when I can move in, hopefully before the month is out.
It is a gorgeous, old Victorian property that is huge. It used to be an old boarding house for kids from the local towns and villages attending school in the town centre of Bedford so has buckets of character and maybe even a sneaky ghost or two? My flat is on the top floor and has a slanted roof, big sash windows that look out onto the back of the property, and enough room to park a plane. My own little home sweet home. I am so excited to move in I struggle sometimes to stay in one place at a time without buzzing about the place. I cant explain it. The feeling that I get when I know something is forthcoming as big as this just fills me with joy. I can tell I am going to be very happy there! I can finally do what I like, when I like and how I like it because I wont have to answer to anyone. I can eat chocolate and crisps for dinner. I can roll out of bed when I want to on a Sunday. Hell, I can even drink milk from the carton again and run around naked - Although I wouldn't want to make the neighbours sick, so maybe I shall keep my clothes on.
So fingers crossed that Miss Tweedle-Dee and Miss Tweedle-Dumb will come visit me in my new home, maybe then we can have a crazy night out on the town ...
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
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