Evening All,
Only a week after payday I really wondered how I was so poor. I did not have to look far though as my bank balance for our new house fund was slowly growing. Soon I hoped that I would see that little comma appear proving that I was doing the right thing by saving all my pennies but I never knew how stressful and broke it would make me feel knowing I have money but it is tied up and away. Now don't get me wrong I knew that this would not be an easy journey, saving every scrap of money that both me and Mr Warehouse have between us was certainly going to be a struggle especially when I am giving up on my summer holiday this year with Mr. Warehouse, something that makes me deeply sad and frustrated for this was going to be the year that we were going to have a blowout holiday were by the head off somewhere hot by the beach relaxing for a week or two.
Anyway enough with the same old same old, and back to the good old good old. That's right, after far far too long apart, me, Miss Hackney and Miss Sugarcoat along with her latest Beau met in a local eatery for some Mexican food and what I hoped would be a change to the normal schedule of shots, shots, shots, shots, shots, shots! It had been a long time since I saw them and it felt like I was going back to something familiar. I enjoy their company separately with Miss Hackney's laughter and down to earth approach mixed in with some gritty tales of the dating game (some more horrific and hilarious than mine I might add) and Miss Sugarcoat's intellectual conversation and ideas on life along with the added spice of strong controversial opinions (some of which I back entirely and some I try to hide from and pretend she is not with me), yet together we seem to create so much noise that it is sometimes hard to hear myself think.
Harping back to the good old times in which we used to fart around in the office not doing much work or course, we reminisced well into the evening and chatted about life as we know it now with our new relationships, friendships and jobs. I had so much to tell them as they had for me although I felt that we were all talking over each other and that the noisy restaurant did not help. Both Miss Hackney and Miss Sugarcoat seemed to have developed and carved out good careers for themselves, expanding on their talents and skills in order to obtain well paying jobs. This left me slightly questioning if I ever made the right decision moving, even though I knew in my heart that's a good decision was made. OK so I am not earning £35,000 working for a plumbing and heating company and I am also not spending my evenings and weekends attending events that I am hosting in aid of cosmetic beauty. Am I happy I jumped ship? Yes certainly and with everything that has happened in the last year and a half I think I have a fairly good deal where I am at the moment especially given the pay, ever-growing relationships both in and outside of the office as well as the fact that I now have a similar relationship with my engineers as I had before with my old ones.
As the shots kept coming I knew that my hopes of a quiet and sophisticated chat over dinner would not be the case this evening. Maybe another night I thought. Maybe a quiet evening in with a bottle or two and a comfy sofa to put the world to rights would be just what we all needed to calm down a bit for the atmosphere of a busy restaurant on a Friday night and then a loud pub with DJ were probably not the ideal places to share stories from the last eighteen months or so since I left. This was not to say that I was not enjoying myself knocking back shots of tequila whilst sipping on Prosecco, trying to keep an ounce of classy about the evening of course. As we rambled through the evening, drinking more and chatting less I was enjoying myself but in a different kind of way that I was used to and an alternative way I would if I was with my current work colleagues.
I suppose in the grand old scheme of things that this is the big difference between my old workplace and where I work now. The majority of the time that I spent with my old work colleagues was getting drunk and talking about shite. That is not to say that given a problem or issue I was experiencing I could not talk to my old work colleagues and looking back on my time there I got some brilliant advice from some amazing people who I would like to consider even now as friends despite not talking in quite some time. A night out on the tiles now consists of going round to someone else to pre-drinking in a sophisticated fashion all whilst helping each other to get dressed and gossipping as women do, then heading into town for a nice meal and some cocktails afterwards. And whilst I don't feel like I have achieved that level of conversation with anyone of my current work colleagues at this moment in time, that is not to say that if something was bugging me or I needed to talk to someone that I would have no one to talk openly to as I am sure that there would be plenty of people to offer a sympathetic ear - I hope at least.
Nevertheless my Friday evening spent with my old work colleagues or certainly a laugh and certainly something that we will make sure not to leave so long again. Isn't it funny I thought to myself and as I later tried to explain to Man-Brain Mr. Warehouse - You spend a good majority of your life working and those people you work with, if you are close, know everything about you and your life as you do about them and theirs. From Monday to Friday, Nine 'til Five you spill your guts about how your feeling and what happened at home or over the weekend. The kids, the other-half, the house, the in-laws and everything and everyone in between. You get to know their social networks and circles without ever actually meeting them and are able to provide comfort and warmth in a time of need. They know your relationships better than maybe you do yourself and can even offer advise that could change everything. With the staples and cellotape and paperclips galore they help you as much as you help them in times of joy, sorrow, support and laughter, colleagues like mine at my old job were like literal tiny flecks of gold dust, blowing into your life five-days-a-week.
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Showing posts with label Meal. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Meal. Show all posts
Monday, 5 February 2018
Monday, 21 August 2017
The Big Two-Five!
Hello,
Finally the wait is over and I can finally tell you all about the surprise plans that I have had in place for the last few weeks. No these are not to do with a holiday that myself and Mr Warehouse will be going on in less than a fortnight. Nope, these are the wonderful birthday surprises that I have been keeping secrets from Mr Warehouse for the last few months. And with my birthday falling an exact month after Mr Warehouse's, I am sure that the same amount of effort and preparation is going into my presents and surprises as did his.
It all started back in the beginning of the summer when I decided that it would be a lovely idea to celebrate Mr Warehouse's twenty-fifth year on the planet as best way I could buy throwing a surprise party / meal. I soon realised that after looking back on my 25th birthday party that Mr Warehouse would not appreciate being the centre of attention and a huge surprise. As a result it was plain to see that a nice sit down meal with the family and friends he held close would be the best idea. And so, over the coming weeks and months I researched into the different venues and restaurants that would be able to cater for what I needed. After settling on a local restaurant that specialised in Chinese with an all-you-can-eat party menu I was sold.
The fact that they had a function room was even better as the parents of any children being brought along did not have to worry about them disrupting the other customers meals. It would mean that the adults and children alike could have freedom whilst celebrating with good food and even better company. I had the idyllic idea of setting up a colouring station with lots of colouring pages and pencils in one corner of the room in order to keep the children occupied whilst their parents ate. There would be like music in the background and a table for gifts and cards. Alas though this never came to fruition and I shall tell you as to why.
After weeks of getting up just after Mr Warehouse had left for work at around 6am to bake several cakes in order to stack on top of each other in some sort of towering cake and frosting excellency, I failed and instead succumbed to the fact that I am no Mary Berry and decided to just bin it all and opt for a Waitrose "Ready-to-decorate" golden vanilla sponge cake. I will admit that yes I did indeed go to Waitrose on my lunch break and purchase a very plain cake and decorated it myself with chocolate icing and candles, all in the effort to pull off the idyllic birthday cake that I had imagined in my head. Of course though my imagination is a lot better than my ability in making and decorating cakes. Suffice to say that the cake went down better than the cheesecakes also brought for dessert. The guests even question as to whether it was homemade by myself.
But waking on Friday morning to a excited Mr Warehouse, I made myself a cup of coffee and sat down with his birthday presents. Opening the birthday cards that had come in the post first from my Grandma and Nana, Mr Warehouse was delighted that this was the first year he had been given a birthday card by them both. Ripping open his other presents, Mr Warehouse unveiled the secret I had been keeping for the last few weeks and months. A belt, a super-large, fluffy bathrobe in Navy, a bag full of 2-penny coins so that we could go to the seaside and play on the arcades all day long whenever he wanted was just a few of the many gifts I bought him. But I saved the best until last.
After a quick doctors appointment, I rushed over to the venue in order to decorate and drop off the cake and colouring pages. Making excuses to Mr Warehouse as to why I was leaving work late on a Friday, I walked into the venue only to discover that the hefty deposit that I had paid in order to secure the function room was in actual fact redundant and our guests would now be seated downstairs in the normal restaurant area. No colouring station for the kids, no designated area for presents or cards and certainly no display area for my knock-off-Nigel-cake. To say I was angry was an understatement however I did not have enough time to worry about this as I still have to get home get ready and back to the restaurant without Mr Warehouse assuming anything was wrong.
Coming home I talked through my day as normal and explained that I was thoroughly looking forward to our date night. Hoofing Mr Warehouse out of the back door in order to walk the dog before we headed out I quickly called through to my Dad and the restaurant to make sure that the people had all started to arrive. Heading out the door I was shaking with nerves and anxious that Mr Warehouse may find out what my last and final surprise for his birthday may be.
Driving down the road slightly I asked Mr Warehouse to go in my handbag to get me something. Unbeknown to the boyfriend he reached inside and picked out a small wrapped box.
"Happy Birthday!" I exclaimed as I continued round the corner of the residential streets. Shocked and speechless I asked if it was a good present. Mr Warehouse had just opened up one of his last presents, a leather bound wallet with Marvel characters on the outside. Inside however was something even more Marvel-lous! For months all I kept hearing from the boyfriend was the fact that the now infamous Richard Jones who won Britain's Got Talent 2016 performing magic alongside a career in the military, was coming to Bedford in the autumn. I played hard to get and said that I did not know who Richard Jones was, but as Mr Warehouse went into full detail about who he was and what he did, I was secretly looking all the best seats in the house in order to see him live and in action. The money that I have paid for the tickets was certainly worth having Mr Warehouse speechless in the passenger seat of Vivienne.
Still reeling from the surprise that his girlfriend had bought him pretty much front row tickets to the show that he had been looking at for the last six-months or so, I parked the car and we entered the restaurant. Shock again blessed Mr Warehouse's face as he looked around at the friends and family that had joined him to celebrate his birthday. There was maybe an inkling that someone may be up to no good when he noticed some guests walking in late as we approached the venue but other than that he was stunned. Pheeew! Finally I could breathe a sigh of relief, all in the knowledge that everything was over and I did not have to lie or sneak about anymore.
In terms of the meal itself it was OK, however the combining factor that I had paid a lot of money for a deposit and with the promise of a function room only to be then seated with everyone else in the restaurant, plus the annoying factor that the restaurant staff did not even take out orders for another hour and a half totalled to making the experience less than satisfactory for myself. Parents of some of the youngest members of the party had to leave as they were already passed their bedtime and they only had the opportunity to consume the starters. Anyone with all other children older than toddlers were asked to cough-up as despite the children not eating from the menu they were still snacking on Prawn Crackers and tit-bits from their parents plates. The colouring pens and pencils as well as the drawings were only helping the children so much and as the Borden crept in from sitting at a empty table for so long the noise of the restaurant got louder. This was not what I wanted and certainly not something that I have signed up to when I spoke to the restaurant originally to host the event.
However, that being said the food was lovely as always and freshly prepared to order, and all in all I think that everybody had a good time including the birthday boy himself Mr Warehouse. But in no uncertain terms I have been told under no circumstances I am I ever to throw a surprise birthday party or meal again, so ...
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Monday, 3 July 2017
Frappuchi-NOOO!
Hiya!
Week done I was certainly glad to be out of the office and ready for a night of partying. It had certainly been one of those weeks, you know the ones, they seemed to drag on forever and never ending stream of customers that have multiple first world problems that you are the sole and only the proprietor of. It felt as though at one point that the week would never end. Thank fuck Friday came round quick enough.
One of the girls at work was become pregnant, and being due in a few weeks Friday was her last day at work. So we did what any normal company would do and other than throwing her a lovely baby shower, decided to have a nice meal out together to celebrate her leaving. In some circumstances this may have been at the end of the night out maybe even finishing off with some cocktails or at a nice bar around the corner from the restaurant, however, this was not the case. Now by no stretch is the company that I work for anything in comparison to what a night out on the tiles was where Mr Warehouse and I met was, but this weekend certainly showed me exactly how crazy and mad it can all get when we've all had a few drinks.
Finishing a lovely meal at one of the local restaurants to the town centre, I barely have enough time to swallow the last glass of wine let alone the rest of the bottle that I had left before I was being ushered out of the restaurant ready to hit the town. Enough with the fanciful natures of having a nice dinner between work colleagues it was now time to get shit faced. I shall not go into the details of what happened on Friday night however I think that it is safe to say that we all had a thoroughly good time.
Waking Saturday morning was difficult and I did in all honesty consider just staying up and waiting to get ready to go to Miss Tweedle-Dee's in order to share the journey down to visit Miss Tweedle-Dumb one last time in her Basingstoke flat. I was certainly feeling fragile by the time I woke up at 8am Saturday morning. I suppose on a plus side I had not been sick so I was a winner already however I didn't come home with my Tolkien subway as normal, only to be found hours later by an angry Mr Warehouse waking me from my slumber with explaining why I was on the toilet and cradling a six-inch half-eaten sandwich.
Rushing around to get my bag packed, the dog walked and grab a coffee to sober up I headed out to the car and race to Miss Tweedle-Dee's house by 10am. It what certainly cutting it fine however I did get there just as the clock struck ten. Parking up I prayed to the gods that my friend needed to get some petrol and I could jump out the park to get some car snacks. I was hungry as soon as I woke up although with the copious amounts of alcohol I drank the night before, I wanted to make sure that it was definitely hunger and not just a jelly-belly. The 40-minute journey to my left definitely reassured myself that in actual fact I was just in need of food.
Filling up in more ways than one we were on our way to see our bestie whom I had heard suffered an even worse night than me. Chattering all the way down to Berkshire we had endured the M25 traffic, and now, with less than 10 minutes left in our journey we decided to pull into Fleet Services as we normally do in order to get a Starbucks. Two chocolate-chip cream Frappe's and a coffee caramel Frappuccino later we were on the road again and next stop Miss Tweedle-Dumb.
Parking the car we grabbed what we needed and headed inside. I was carrying Miss Tweedle-Dee's sandwich, my handbag and my coffee caramel Frappuccino when I approached the infamous steps of doom. Uneven and probably the shortest one being at least a foot high I was cautious in my approach. I thought o myself as I took my first tentative steps towards the stone stairs "I have managed this in the dead of winter, cold and wet and icy. I though I would have fallen either up or down them alread... " OH FUCK!
Loosing my step in beloved buckled oxblood ankle boots, I stumbled and thinking that I had found my footing I must have counteracted it, doing so had caused me to stumble even further. Shouting out to my friend letting her know that I had screwed up, Miss Tweedle-Dee turned around at just the right moment in order to see me fly into the air. Knowing in my head but there is nothing I could do to salvage myself or indeed anything I was carrying, I took off from the first of four very steep and Stone steps. Crash landing and skidding to a stop, I heard the awful sound of my cherished ice cold coffee caramel Frappuccino hitting the floor, splashing for at least a meter in front of me.
Although in most circumstances I would have made a full recovery and be back on my feet in seconds, even before someone had asked if I was OK this was not the case. With it all happening so quickly I had not a moment to think or indeed plan my comeback. As such I also had no time, or indeed spare hands to grab onto anything and as such had gone flying. You would have thought that the normal response would be drop everything and check that your best friend is OK and that they haven't broken anything or badly injured themselves. But as the pain set in, I realised that this was not the case and whilst the Two aforementioned chocolate-chip cream Frappe's had been neatly placed on the floor beside myself, it was not to check that I was still alive. Oh no, it was for my friend to reach into her bag and pull out her camera, capturing the embarrassing moment for all to see, forcing me to stay put until the picture has been captured.
Not that of course the neighbours couldn't see that is. As with many parts of the country including my hometown of Houghton Regis, this area of Basingstoke was a council estate. As search the double-storey buildings that overlooked the path leading to Miss Tweedle-Dumb's house. Not being able to see due to the fact that my sunglasses had become entangled in my hair and in front of my face, I could just feel the curtains twitching as people came to see what was happening outside. With a loud thud, the sploshing drink hitting the floor and unrelenting and never-ending fits laughter, I would have come to the window too in order to see what all the commotion was all about, only to realise that it is some silly fuck who has fallen off the ridiculously high steps again. So much were the screams and howls of giggles erupted from Miss Tweedle-Dee that I am surprised Miss Tweedle-Dumb didn't come rushing out to my help.
After picking myself up off the floor and assessing the damage done I was devastated to learn that there had been a worse casualty in all this. My Starbucks coffee caramel Frappuccino was gone and with nothing left in my little plastic cup I was close to tears. Heading in to tell of the hilarious moment I became superman and show Miss Tweedle-Dumb and her boyfriend the snap I sniffed and hobbled my way to the front room and slouched on the sofa in pain, not just of my body but also of the thirst-quenching loss.
With the rest of the weekend passing in a haze of fun, family events and even more laughter I know that in time I will heal the bruises on my pins, but wont pass so easily is the day I flew with my Frappe.
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Week done I was certainly glad to be out of the office and ready for a night of partying. It had certainly been one of those weeks, you know the ones, they seemed to drag on forever and never ending stream of customers that have multiple first world problems that you are the sole and only the proprietor of. It felt as though at one point that the week would never end. Thank fuck Friday came round quick enough.
One of the girls at work was become pregnant, and being due in a few weeks Friday was her last day at work. So we did what any normal company would do and other than throwing her a lovely baby shower, decided to have a nice meal out together to celebrate her leaving. In some circumstances this may have been at the end of the night out maybe even finishing off with some cocktails or at a nice bar around the corner from the restaurant, however, this was not the case. Now by no stretch is the company that I work for anything in comparison to what a night out on the tiles was where Mr Warehouse and I met was, but this weekend certainly showed me exactly how crazy and mad it can all get when we've all had a few drinks.
Finishing a lovely meal at one of the local restaurants to the town centre, I barely have enough time to swallow the last glass of wine let alone the rest of the bottle that I had left before I was being ushered out of the restaurant ready to hit the town. Enough with the fanciful natures of having a nice dinner between work colleagues it was now time to get shit faced. I shall not go into the details of what happened on Friday night however I think that it is safe to say that we all had a thoroughly good time.
Waking Saturday morning was difficult and I did in all honesty consider just staying up and waiting to get ready to go to Miss Tweedle-Dee's in order to share the journey down to visit Miss Tweedle-Dumb one last time in her Basingstoke flat. I was certainly feeling fragile by the time I woke up at 8am Saturday morning. I suppose on a plus side I had not been sick so I was a winner already however I didn't come home with my Tolkien subway as normal, only to be found hours later by an angry Mr Warehouse waking me from my slumber with explaining why I was on the toilet and cradling a six-inch half-eaten sandwich.
Rushing around to get my bag packed, the dog walked and grab a coffee to sober up I headed out to the car and race to Miss Tweedle-Dee's house by 10am. It what certainly cutting it fine however I did get there just as the clock struck ten. Parking up I prayed to the gods that my friend needed to get some petrol and I could jump out the park to get some car snacks. I was hungry as soon as I woke up although with the copious amounts of alcohol I drank the night before, I wanted to make sure that it was definitely hunger and not just a jelly-belly. The 40-minute journey to my left definitely reassured myself that in actual fact I was just in need of food.
Filling up in more ways than one we were on our way to see our bestie whom I had heard suffered an even worse night than me. Chattering all the way down to Berkshire we had endured the M25 traffic, and now, with less than 10 minutes left in our journey we decided to pull into Fleet Services as we normally do in order to get a Starbucks. Two chocolate-chip cream Frappe's and a coffee caramel Frappuccino later we were on the road again and next stop Miss Tweedle-Dumb.
Parking the car we grabbed what we needed and headed inside. I was carrying Miss Tweedle-Dee's sandwich, my handbag and my coffee caramel Frappuccino when I approached the infamous steps of doom. Uneven and probably the shortest one being at least a foot high I was cautious in my approach. I thought o myself as I took my first tentative steps towards the stone stairs "I have managed this in the dead of winter, cold and wet and icy. I though I would have fallen either up or down them alread... " OH FUCK!
Loosing my step in beloved buckled oxblood ankle boots, I stumbled and thinking that I had found my footing I must have counteracted it, doing so had caused me to stumble even further. Shouting out to my friend letting her know that I had screwed up, Miss Tweedle-Dee turned around at just the right moment in order to see me fly into the air. Knowing in my head but there is nothing I could do to salvage myself or indeed anything I was carrying, I took off from the first of four very steep and Stone steps. Crash landing and skidding to a stop, I heard the awful sound of my cherished ice cold coffee caramel Frappuccino hitting the floor, splashing for at least a meter in front of me.
Although in most circumstances I would have made a full recovery and be back on my feet in seconds, even before someone had asked if I was OK this was not the case. With it all happening so quickly I had not a moment to think or indeed plan my comeback. As such I also had no time, or indeed spare hands to grab onto anything and as such had gone flying. You would have thought that the normal response would be drop everything and check that your best friend is OK and that they haven't broken anything or badly injured themselves. But as the pain set in, I realised that this was not the case and whilst the Two aforementioned chocolate-chip cream Frappe's had been neatly placed on the floor beside myself, it was not to check that I was still alive. Oh no, it was for my friend to reach into her bag and pull out her camera, capturing the embarrassing moment for all to see, forcing me to stay put until the picture has been captured.
Not that of course the neighbours couldn't see that is. As with many parts of the country including my hometown of Houghton Regis, this area of Basingstoke was a council estate. As search the double-storey buildings that overlooked the path leading to Miss Tweedle-Dumb's house. Not being able to see due to the fact that my sunglasses had become entangled in my hair and in front of my face, I could just feel the curtains twitching as people came to see what was happening outside. With a loud thud, the sploshing drink hitting the floor and unrelenting and never-ending fits laughter, I would have come to the window too in order to see what all the commotion was all about, only to realise that it is some silly fuck who has fallen off the ridiculously high steps again. So much were the screams and howls of giggles erupted from Miss Tweedle-Dee that I am surprised Miss Tweedle-Dumb didn't come rushing out to my help.
After picking myself up off the floor and assessing the damage done I was devastated to learn that there had been a worse casualty in all this. My Starbucks coffee caramel Frappuccino was gone and with nothing left in my little plastic cup I was close to tears. Heading in to tell of the hilarious moment I became superman and show Miss Tweedle-Dumb and her boyfriend the snap I sniffed and hobbled my way to the front room and slouched on the sofa in pain, not just of my body but also of the thirst-quenching loss.
With the rest of the weekend passing in a haze of fun, family events and even more laughter I know that in time I will heal the bruises on my pins, but wont pass so easily is the day I flew with my Frappe.
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Tuesday, 12 November 2013
Merry Ex-Mas!
Hi,
So last week was a bit of a hilarious mess really but all in good humour as I am sure that now many of you will be wary of going to the spa for fear of Steam Room's with legs and those dreaded paper knickers. So far this week it has been quiet hard work. My partner on my account at work has recently taken ill bless him and I am now having to face some very big and very important meetings with my boss's boss to discuss our accounts in the coming days. If there is such a god, other than Google then can you please make sure that my colleague is fit an well so I don't have to flounder at the meeting tomorrow. That would be great thanks. Oh and whilst your there, going down a couple of dress sizes and up a cup size would be much appreciated! Besides stressing about my work as a financial lady I have been relatively relaxed about everything else. Since speaking to Mr. Cheese in depth about Christmas plans and being personally invited by his parents has prompted me to make a concrete plan. I plan to go with Mr. Cheese and his family up to the countryside of the North-West of England the weekend before Christmas and stay there up until the Eve whereby I shall hop on the train back home and spend the most important part of the Holidays.Christmas Eve as usual will be spent eating good food with good friends and maybe a few cheeky shots although I doubt it could beat last years escapades...
Christmas Eve 2012. This year so far I have gained a job, dealt with the difficult break-up from my beloved Prince Charming, recovered from another yet bout of Depression, gone on my first girls holiday, moved into my own place, turned twenty-one, stopped sleeping with my Ex, lost a job, moved back in with my Dad and his girlfriend, claimed benefits, got a new job and rekindled an old high-school romance. Such a busy, busy year. And yet here I am round a table in my local pub with my the Tweedles and a good friend. Miss Tweedle-Dumb has just passed her driving test and has bought a blue Vauxhall Corsa we have decided to call 'Blu Cantrell' and Miss Tweedle-Dee has got a new job working in the same company.
I felt nervous. I knew that essentially I was in his playground. His territory. You see Mr. Workaholic could be anywhere in this modern and sleek tavern. Feeling anxious I pushed the thoughts to the back of my mind. As myself and my two best friends sat and chatted waiting for the final guest to arrive they asked how I would feel if I saw him. I brushed it off coolly with a shady answer and diverted the conversation swiftly. Finally our guest arrived, Miss Tweedle-Dee's Ex-Girlfriend whom she had recently befriended again after a brief spat. As we sat down Miss Tweedle-Dumb went to to the toilet whilst Miss Tweedle-Dee and her Ex went to order food at the already buzzing bar. Coming back to the table their faces were ashen. They confirmed my worst fear. Mr. Workaholic was here with his sister in toe! After getting back from the little-girl's-room Miss Tweedle-Dumb confirmed the siting of not only my Ex and his sister, but also his mother and his mother's boyfriend. Trying not to panic I shrugged and simply said that we were at opposite ends of the pub and so it was fine. If several adults cannot be in the same room as each other after living together for nearly two years then I think that it's a little petulant. Nevertheless I stood from my chair to order my own food. After paying for my meal up front I noticed from the corner of my eye a tall, dark handsome man slouched across the sticky bar. No mistaking it. It was him. Mr. Workaholic!
Seating myself in good company talk soon turned to other things and just before dinner arrived I insisted they opened the presents I had saved so hard to buy them whilst not having a job. Although the excitement and joy were overshadowed by some bodies moving their half-eaten dinners to a table across from us. 'Much closer than the other side of the boozer' I thought to myself. Yep, that's right. All four of the Ex-Family had moved significantly closer to me and my friends. Getting agitated I added it to the things in the back of my head and ramped up the volume and actions. I opened my presents I had received and squealed in delight as I unwrapped the literature and nic-nac's from my Girls. Everyone was pleased and in a happy mood. As we ate food and drank more we chatted about the year that had gone and the year that was to come. I think it was safe to say it wasn't the best year of my life but I overcome some things I thought I would never be able to bounce back from and now I knew I could do anything. I could take over the world. Just as I was feeling invisible something Kryptonic arrived to dash my superpowers. It was the Ex-mother-in-law(ish). Everyone stopped eating. Jaws dropping open revealing half eaten potato and carrot. Shocked as was I we listened to her shpeal. Phrases like 'You look beautiful' and 'Oh how skinny you look, have you lost weight?' flew out of her mouth like pigeons and shat all over my parades.
As if the cringe-meter wasn't broken enough she then addressed my fellow dinner guests asking if they were all having a nice evening and looking forward to Christmas. Numbly they all nodded and replied quietly. As she left she said how good it was to see me and mentioned again how well I looked. Continuing our meal, myself and the girls felt very, very awkward and on-edge. Although I had a feeling that it was not the last. Finishing our meal Miss Tweedle-Dumb and I braved the fresh winter air for a cigarette and a chat about what had just happened. I felt awful for the fact that my friends had to endure my embarrassment with me and promised that we would try and make the best out of a bad situation. Walking back into the warm, bright restaurant come bar chain we soon noticed we had some new neighbours on the table adjacent to us. Yes. It had happened. Again.
As I took my seat at the head of the table so as to protect Miss Tweedle-Dumb, Miss Tweedle-Dee and her Ex from the onslaught that might follow I was approached again by said Mummy Workaholic. Again praising me for looking so good and well and loosing alot of weight since I last saw her nearly ten months ago. I felt like saying to Mr. Workaholic's interrupting mother that sometimes when people break-up with other people for no apparent reason after planning entire lives with each other and building foundations for the future sometimes you just loose your appetite for simply how sick they make you feel. After telling me of her plans to drink herself into oblivion with her cheating boyfriend, heinous son and bitchy daughter she left me and my friends to it. I don't know why she told me her plans for the night, nor the timings of these plan's either. I was never going back to her son ever again. He fucked it all up. Not me. Soon, after about an hour they all left to hit the pubs, clubs and bars of our small home-town, although I was swiftly off home to anticipate Santa's arrival on the morrow. But not before a quick death-stick and drink to settle ourselves. Whilst outside on a fag break with Miss Tweedle-Dumb we joked about when her Ex was turning up to the party. She laughed but she wasn't laughing when she returned to our table only to find the table once containing Mr. Workaholic and Company had since been replaced by her own Ex-Boyfriend and some friends I knew from college.
You honestly couldn't make it up. At first there was one awkward moment and then there were three. I don't think any of us have laughed awkwardly so much in our lives. Still I knew then as I know now ready to publish that it would one day be a good story to tell. Here's hoping that this Christmas Eve won't be quite as eventful...
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
So last week was a bit of a hilarious mess really but all in good humour as I am sure that now many of you will be wary of going to the spa for fear of Steam Room's with legs and those dreaded paper knickers. So far this week it has been quiet hard work. My partner on my account at work has recently taken ill bless him and I am now having to face some very big and very important meetings with my boss's boss to discuss our accounts in the coming days. If there is such a god, other than Google then can you please make sure that my colleague is fit an well so I don't have to flounder at the meeting tomorrow. That would be great thanks. Oh and whilst your there, going down a couple of dress sizes and up a cup size would be much appreciated! Besides stressing about my work as a financial lady I have been relatively relaxed about everything else. Since speaking to Mr. Cheese in depth about Christmas plans and being personally invited by his parents has prompted me to make a concrete plan. I plan to go with Mr. Cheese and his family up to the countryside of the North-West of England the weekend before Christmas and stay there up until the Eve whereby I shall hop on the train back home and spend the most important part of the Holidays.Christmas Eve as usual will be spent eating good food with good friends and maybe a few cheeky shots although I doubt it could beat last years escapades...
Christmas Eve 2012. This year so far I have gained a job, dealt with the difficult break-up from my beloved Prince Charming, recovered from another yet bout of Depression, gone on my first girls holiday, moved into my own place, turned twenty-one, stopped sleeping with my Ex, lost a job, moved back in with my Dad and his girlfriend, claimed benefits, got a new job and rekindled an old high-school romance. Such a busy, busy year. And yet here I am round a table in my local pub with my the Tweedles and a good friend. Miss Tweedle-Dumb has just passed her driving test and has bought a blue Vauxhall Corsa we have decided to call 'Blu Cantrell' and Miss Tweedle-Dee has got a new job working in the same company.
I felt nervous. I knew that essentially I was in his playground. His territory. You see Mr. Workaholic could be anywhere in this modern and sleek tavern. Feeling anxious I pushed the thoughts to the back of my mind. As myself and my two best friends sat and chatted waiting for the final guest to arrive they asked how I would feel if I saw him. I brushed it off coolly with a shady answer and diverted the conversation swiftly. Finally our guest arrived, Miss Tweedle-Dee's Ex-Girlfriend whom she had recently befriended again after a brief spat. As we sat down Miss Tweedle-Dumb went to to the toilet whilst Miss Tweedle-Dee and her Ex went to order food at the already buzzing bar. Coming back to the table their faces were ashen. They confirmed my worst fear. Mr. Workaholic was here with his sister in toe! After getting back from the little-girl's-room Miss Tweedle-Dumb confirmed the siting of not only my Ex and his sister, but also his mother and his mother's boyfriend. Trying not to panic I shrugged and simply said that we were at opposite ends of the pub and so it was fine. If several adults cannot be in the same room as each other after living together for nearly two years then I think that it's a little petulant. Nevertheless I stood from my chair to order my own food. After paying for my meal up front I noticed from the corner of my eye a tall, dark handsome man slouched across the sticky bar. No mistaking it. It was him. Mr. Workaholic!
Seating myself in good company talk soon turned to other things and just before dinner arrived I insisted they opened the presents I had saved so hard to buy them whilst not having a job. Although the excitement and joy were overshadowed by some bodies moving their half-eaten dinners to a table across from us. 'Much closer than the other side of the boozer' I thought to myself. Yep, that's right. All four of the Ex-Family had moved significantly closer to me and my friends. Getting agitated I added it to the things in the back of my head and ramped up the volume and actions. I opened my presents I had received and squealed in delight as I unwrapped the literature and nic-nac's from my Girls. Everyone was pleased and in a happy mood. As we ate food and drank more we chatted about the year that had gone and the year that was to come. I think it was safe to say it wasn't the best year of my life but I overcome some things I thought I would never be able to bounce back from and now I knew I could do anything. I could take over the world. Just as I was feeling invisible something Kryptonic arrived to dash my superpowers. It was the Ex-mother-in-law(ish). Everyone stopped eating. Jaws dropping open revealing half eaten potato and carrot. Shocked as was I we listened to her shpeal. Phrases like 'You look beautiful' and 'Oh how skinny you look, have you lost weight?' flew out of her mouth like pigeons and shat all over my parades.
As if the cringe-meter wasn't broken enough she then addressed my fellow dinner guests asking if they were all having a nice evening and looking forward to Christmas. Numbly they all nodded and replied quietly. As she left she said how good it was to see me and mentioned again how well I looked. Continuing our meal, myself and the girls felt very, very awkward and on-edge. Although I had a feeling that it was not the last. Finishing our meal Miss Tweedle-Dumb and I braved the fresh winter air for a cigarette and a chat about what had just happened. I felt awful for the fact that my friends had to endure my embarrassment with me and promised that we would try and make the best out of a bad situation. Walking back into the warm, bright restaurant come bar chain we soon noticed we had some new neighbours on the table adjacent to us. Yes. It had happened. Again.
As I took my seat at the head of the table so as to protect Miss Tweedle-Dumb, Miss Tweedle-Dee and her Ex from the onslaught that might follow I was approached again by said Mummy Workaholic. Again praising me for looking so good and well and loosing alot of weight since I last saw her nearly ten months ago. I felt like saying to Mr. Workaholic's interrupting mother that sometimes when people break-up with other people for no apparent reason after planning entire lives with each other and building foundations for the future sometimes you just loose your appetite for simply how sick they make you feel. After telling me of her plans to drink herself into oblivion with her cheating boyfriend, heinous son and bitchy daughter she left me and my friends to it. I don't know why she told me her plans for the night, nor the timings of these plan's either. I was never going back to her son ever again. He fucked it all up. Not me. Soon, after about an hour they all left to hit the pubs, clubs and bars of our small home-town, although I was swiftly off home to anticipate Santa's arrival on the morrow. But not before a quick death-stick and drink to settle ourselves. Whilst outside on a fag break with Miss Tweedle-Dumb we joked about when her Ex was turning up to the party. She laughed but she wasn't laughing when she returned to our table only to find the table once containing Mr. Workaholic and Company had since been replaced by her own Ex-Boyfriend and some friends I knew from college.
You honestly couldn't make it up. At first there was one awkward moment and then there were three. I don't think any of us have laughed awkwardly so much in our lives. Still I knew then as I know now ready to publish that it would one day be a good story to tell. Here's hoping that this Christmas Eve won't be quite as eventful...
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
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