Shitty Stick!

Afternoon All, 

So after last weeks slight rant over religion and the tales of God and his holy tales of Easter, this week has been slightly more back to norm. Settling fully back into work and life after returning from Las Vegas and the Easter break I decided to get back in contact with some old Pals from my crazy days as a student in college. 

Dropping a few texts, a couple of WhatsApp messages and a few short hours later I was not only on time, but early to meet my dear friend Miss Chocolate. As I sipped on a Martini Espresso topped with some sort of creamy loveliness I noted all my office and life stresses melting away, thinking about how much my friend had changed in the months that we had not spoken. 

Flicking through a magazine, noting all the different trends for Spring/Summer'15 and wondering where I shall be holidaying this year I was tapped on the shoulder by a familiar face, that of Miss Chocolate's. Miss Tatt's was meant to be joining us but I think had to work late so send her best wishes and recommended the menu. As we were seated for our table at TGI Friday's we both couldn't contain our excitement, twittering on about life as we both knew it and of all the things that had happened over the past year or so. First of all there was the explanation about how fabulous Vegas was and secondly was the long, interesting and the somewhat repeated tale of my latest boyfriend, Mr. Warehouse. 

You see it's not that I don't like telling people how Mr. Warehouse and I met, I do (Besides "met at work" sounds a lot better than "met on Tinder") its just sometimes I wonder, and I am sure that Miss Chocolate and the Tweedles will vouch for me when I say this - I have never really been single. Not properly anyhow. All I seem to do is skip from one relationship to another. I mean it went from being in school where I had nobody interested in dating me to suddenly not being able to shake them off. It all started with the lovely and sweet Mr. Ginge in Sixth Form. Within a year, then along came along the heartbreakingly perfect Mr. Workaholic. After a couple of months it was the intermediate episode with Mr. Coffee. Six-months later, along came the tragically lost Mr. Cheese and exactly forty-eight hours after ending things with Mr. Cheese I finally came up to speed with the wonderfully simple Mr. Warehouse. Yes, I can safely say I don't think I have been single for more than a few months. What can I say, beating them off with a shitty stick! I think I am very bi-polar in my relationships with men and how I acted at school has pretty much replicated itself in life as a fully fledged adult, falling in love easily and getting my heart broken even easier. 

But as I sat talking away to Miss Chocolate about my new-ish addition to my life as a twenty-something I watched as she tried to twist the story making smiles and asking questions about whether he is the one or not? Babies? Or not? Four-bed detached house in Surrey somewhere with white picket fencing, a red Volvo and a Labrador called Fifi? Or not? this round of question and answer always is the same from Miss Chocolate, maybe because she knows how important it is, or maybe because she has not had a one-hundred-percent definitive answer from me since 2010 when she asked me the same interview-esk questions about Mr. Workaholic. My reaction however is always the same since then too. I have never been true to myself in saying that this probably wont work out. There is always a maybe or a hopefully. Never a certified "Yes". 

I think that Miss Chocolate is much like me, in anticipation for the day again where we will both have that conversation and once more I will be safe in the knowledge that there is a good chance my current boyfriend is going to be my husband. Maybe my search stops with Mr. Warehouse, or maybe it carries on and he becomes another Mister in a long parade of failed relationships. Who knows?

As our conversation progressed we chatted about work, friends, family, college days and future crazy nights out to come. And as I boarded the night bus back home I hoped that the night out we had planned for a few weeks time would come about as I was, and still am in a severe need for a good old messy night out with some banging banter, popping tunes and a dance-floor that has been freshly polished. Oh and a pole - Always need a pole!

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

The Vagina Crusade!

Bloggers Note: I have recently decided to start a thing going whereby if you yourself have a 'Trial or Tribulation' that I can help with then feel free to drop me a free and fully confidential message by popping it on a mini form in the right-hand sidebar or email me at: Abbbey4@gmail.com. Also If you have any ideas on how to make me sound or look more interesting then just do the same! :) xx

Heyy, 

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

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

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

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

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

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

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

A Wayward Wedding and Some Birthday Banter!

Bloggers Note: I have recently decided to start a thing going whereby if you yourself have a 'Trial or Tribulation' that I can help with then feel free to drop me a free and fully confidential message by popping it on a mini form in the right-hand sidebar or email me at: Abbbey4@gmail.com. Also If you have any ideas on how to make me sound or look more interesting then just do the same! :) xx

Evening One and All, 

Following last weeks commencement of the blog and with exercise aside, I have been trying to eat healthily so lets just try to ignore my weekend of binging on junk food and all things calorific. I feel I may need to join some of my new work colleagues on their diets - The 5:2 being one of them! Nevertheless I feel a lot better for indulging in some extra fitness stuffs over the past week and I feel that some of the tension, anger and aggravation has helped in keeping me motivated and powered me through the waters of local swimming pools. This last week though has been a tad of a busy one indeed for me. What with swimming and catch-ups with Miss Chocolate I am glad that I have somewhat of a twenty-something's social life again, although financing it may be another thing to contend with. Nando's don't come cheap you know! A manic first half of the week meant that I was incredible tired and whilst I tried my best to catch up with the zed's pending the late night of the wedding on Friday it was much in vain as there was and still is something or someone to do or speak to. Thankfully though I have been able to battle on through this Bank Holiday weekend with little sleep, although I think coffee and a relaxing vegging-Saturday helped. 

So indeed the wedding. My first wedding. Not mine obviously. Haha, need to find a groom first (Don't even think about it! I have already had thoughts entailing the current Beau and wedding bells and I am certainly not in a position at twenty-two to be in-sickness-and-in-health-ing anyone!). Following a much needed and pleasant lie-in I fry-curled my hair within an inch of its already dead life and fixed myself into a floor-length navy dress. It was a halter neck, only bought with the intention of showing boobs and not legs as at present I felt these were my better of the two assets, not that I was trying to impress anyone of course. Although it was a busty little number I didn't think that it was too much until Pappa-bear had mentioned it upon me getting into his car en-route to the ceremony. Taken aback by my fathers comments I had to agree that maybe it wasn't the best choice of wear I had ever made. Arriving at the parent's of the bride's house we were greeted by the bridal party as well as Miss Bride herself. Swishing down the stairs and with camera's flashing in every direction my thoughts enviously turned to when it will be my turn. She looked beautiful. A stunning white full, A-line ball gown neatly hugged Miss Bride's already curvaceous figure and with a sheer shrug to cover her shoulders she looked a picture. Handing everyone champagne, my father took it as his duty to congratulate the party and toasted to Miss Bride and her entourage. Tapping our plastic glasses together we all hurried round fixing button holes and taking photos. Getting shoes on and retouching hair and make up there was still so much to do before the car arrived. A few moments later the busy street outside came to a halt as Miss Bride and her maids stepped out into the less-than-wonderful British weather. Drizzling slightly I grabbed some bit's and bobs from the bridesmaid's and with My father, his girlfriend and a family friend of the Bride's we made our way to the ceremony.

The music started playing. The guests rose from their seats. Everyone hushed. The doors were flung open and as the gasps subsided, Miss Bride and her proud father entered the room. Whispers echoed about the dress and the bridesmaid's, camera's already snapping as was I. As photographer number one I grabbed prime position at the front of the hall. Such photo's have yet to be broadcast on social media and even gone through by myself so as to had back to Miss Bride and her now Husband, but I am pleased to say that I got some memorable shots. Finishing her last walk of freedom, Miss Bride turned to face her fiancé and spoke of the same vows I had heard only a matter of weeks ago. Beautiful verses from the both of them explaining how much they care and love each other and how they plan to spend their many days, months and years making each other happy. With tears welling up in the audience's eyes, I took some more photograph's, making sure I captured every moment of the pair's special day. After pronouncing them Husband and Wife the crowded room erupted into a joyous boom of cheers and claps. Swaying down the aisle hand in hand, their smiles were infectious. 

After spending a fair while doing what I was meant to be doing - taking photo's, we all headed over to the reception venue which turned out to be my prom venue too. Memories of that night flooded back to me as a sixteen-year-old emo-kid with long blonde hair and a figure I would die to get back. Entering the venue and grabbing a bite to eat we all sat to listen to the speeches. I shan't go into too much detail as I feel that these are personal and should be kept as such, much like the ceremony itself. However whilst they were entertaining and witty, they were also heartfelt and emotional with the Father of the Bride talking fondly of how his little baby girl got to where she is today. It moved me thinking about what my own father might say about me on my wedding day with all my friends and family surrounding me and my new Husband by my side. Pending the talky bits another toast was pre-empted and yet again we all raised our glasses to the bride and groom. Partying away the night it was a fine affair and it even entailed an encounter with Mr. DJ but the less said about that one the better. Dancing to all the cheesy hits that are typically played at weddings we had several dance-off's, a circle-pit and even a hoe-down at one point. An enjoyable evening all round and something I am sure we will all remember for a very long while! 

Saturday I awoke with a heavy head. In need of paracetamol and coffee I soon found some and made my way to the couch where I engaged in a day long affair with it until I returned to my own bed. Waking on Sunday morning however I was up bright and early to make my way to the station to meet with Miss Tweedle-Dee, Miss Tweedle-Dumb, Miss Stuu and Miss Tweedle-Dumb's little sister for a day out in sunny Brighton. And what a day that was! After finally arriving in Brighton nearly three hours after I initially set off, we pottered round the boutique stores, having a quick pop in Choccy Wocky Doo Dah and ogling at the sparkly engagement rings in the millions of jewellers (Yes, were girls that's what we do!) we finally made our way to the beach. Positioning ourselves in between the black burnt out carcass of the old pier and the newer although noticeably dated, famous white Brighton pier. As the sun beat down on us I revelled in the sunshine, soaking up the warm weather like a sponge knowing that come Tuesday morning at my desk I shall be craving a summer holiday yet again and with a Boyfriend that has expensive taste's such as the Maldives, Fiji and Costa Rica I doubt that a holiday with him would be as low budget as a holiday with the Tweedles. Disregarding my thoughts of a much-needed holiday I sat and thought about my weekend and how much I had done already. Knackered I laid out on the pebbles and proceeded to get tanned. Well, burnt mainly but it will turn brown soon enough!

Taking a walk along the wooden pier I mentioned how we should do this again before the end of summer, maybe making it a proper weekend and maybe even a night out. With Brighton being the capital of Britain's gay scene I can imagine a night out here would be miles better than back home in the Shire. Pipe dreams aside it was time for some dinner. Fish and chips were decided and the beach was to be our choice of restaurant once more. Only this time I had to make a bathroom stop prior to us leaving the extended arm into the English Channel. Why I hear you ask? This is why ... 

Minding my own business and watching an up market photo-shoot take place beneath the pier I waited for the others to finish on slot machines and their own toilet fiasco's. As the others arrived and we all motioned to leave I felt a warm wet splash hit my shoulder. At first I thought maybe some kids had thrown something at me, but in my heart I knew it had come from many metres above my head. Airspace. Airspace that is shared not by maleficent children but by birds. Seagull. Yes. For the second time in my life I had been shat on by a sea bird. Squealing and turning my shoulder to my friends I asked them to point it out. Squawking themselves they refused to shift the shit off my body. Instead, as they had the first time it happened back in Middle School, they took to laughing at me. Finding the funny side of the situation I grabbed some tissues from my bag, pulled off my cardigan and cleaned the area. By this point it is now in my hair and much to my dismay had started to dry. Taking myself off to the bathroom, ready to argue with anyone who shouted at me for skipping the long queue for the ladies I washed myself and the shit from myself and then made my way back to the Girls who were now standing their literally wetting themselves. As we walked off the pier I shouted at every web-footed mammal with wings I saw, cursing it for using me for a toilet. I had my own toilet troubles last week, I did not need them again this week! Sitting here now I can actually smell the poo but suffice to say I am now doubly lucky in terms of being crapped on and should now be hailed as Queen of the Gulls! *Insert bird noise here*

All in all the weekend was a success and as a result I have not only had a blinder of a Friday night with loved ones and family, but I have also spent it with friends. So as a thanks and congratulations I would like to dedicate this blog post not only to Miss Tweedle-Dumb for reaching the ripe old age of twenty-two today, but also the beautiful Miss Bride and her Groom. I hope you all had as wonderful time as I did. 

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

Toilet Terrors and Fishy Frights!

Bloggers Note: I have recently decided to start a thing going whereby if you yourself have a 'Trial or Tribulation' that I can help with then feel free to drop me a free and fully confidential message by popping it on a mini form in the right-hand sidebar or email me at: Abbbey4@gmail.com. Also If you have any ideas on how to make me sound or look more interesting then just do the same! :) xx

Hello There, 

And so after ten long months waiting and many, many times of myself fighting back the high of endorphins and dopamine after a bedroom workout I was thrilled to hear that Mr. Cheese loves me! And yes I was not false in my hopes or wrong in my hearing of the phrase for Mr. Cheese said it again over the weekend after a wonderful sunny Saturday as we lay on the trampoline in his huge garden at his families home in the country. As we lay underneath the fading sky, watching bats skit across our focus my dearest Mr. Cheese informed me for the second time that it was not a mistake and that for the first time since Miss Cardboard Box he loved someone else. Me. Little old me. The same old me that has been doubting our relationship from the very beginning. The very same person that blurted out the same phrase on the platform of Victoria Underground all those many moons ago last year. Yes. I think it is safe to say that life is somewhat better now that we have found bliss. 

Speaking of blissful moments stolen together it was some of the shared moments with Mr. Cheese's family that made me ponder my future with them and him. Now obviously you are not all to rush out and buy your hat's just yet, although I feel that things could be a lot more simpler now I'm looking at the relationship in a new light. I suppose if there is one thing that Mr. Workaholic taught me it was that life is unpredictable and that you can spend years building the foundations to your future only to have someone torch them before your very eyes with the only thing you can do is to sit back and watch all your hopes and dreams burn to the ground. I like Mr. Cheese although sitting in the adults lounge at the front of the fully detached cottage, snuggled into my darling watching the nail-biting cup final between Arsenal and Hull sipping on wine I glanced over to the rest of his perfect family imagining how I could fit right in here. Pappa Cheese in just his underpants (Not joking!), Momma Cheese tending to her boys making sure they were well taken care of, Mr. Cheese and his brothers fooling around and acting like the kids they are. It made me yearn for something as idealistic as that in years to come. Looking back on my weekend, what with its glorious weather and idyllic snatched moments its hard to think that this was all amongst yet another raging argument with the Tweedles. 

On the other hand though I thought about the family I have. Or had. Whatever way you look at it family is important. Probably one of the most important things in life. No. The Most important thing in life. Without family you are nothing. Without family there is no you. Although reflecting on my own is hard given the separation of my parents and breakdown of said family unit I think only makes me want one of my own that is better and stronger than ever. As the sun shone in through the roof light in the large kitchen of Mr. Cheese's family home I helped chop and prepare the salad. Conversation with Momma Cheese alone turned to my own maternal connection (or the lack of one) and the question was finally asked. When answering the question of why I never speak of my own mother arises I always have to be careful and slightly coy about how I tell the person asking the question. I knew that with four boisterous lads on the loose in and out of the kitchen I didn't have much time and so the extended edition was spared. I could tell that whilst Momma Cheese was itching to know the answer why, she was also very sweetly anxious as to not upset me. I explained simply as I had a million times before that whilst coming into constant conflict with her for my entire life, after my parents divorce my mother simply couldn't stand the fact that I wanted to see my father and so as a result threw me out. It was harder this time seeing the shock on Momma Cheese's face as I could tell it is something that even in her worst night terrors she could never dream of doing the same to her four boys. And almost as if right on cue the youngest of the Cheese brothers appeared with a question about dinner and my passed was soon just floating words soon to evaporate and be replaced by love and laughter. 

All was not plain sailing this weekend though as I almost got caught up stream without a paddle - Don't worry these jokes will soon make sense! Seeing two silvery fish wrapped up in a plastic bag on the kitchen counter, I boasted about how my own father had taught me how to gut and prepare fish for cooking and since the Cheese's were having a BBQ I decided to gloat a little more than usual in anticipation that the sea creatures contained in the freezer bag were already fully ready for the Barbie. On closer inspection to the deceased critters I realised that whilst they were very much dead, (I washed them and whilst no one was watching played with them pretending I was Ariel the little mermaid and that these were my companions! Yes I know I'm sad!) They were fully in-tacked biologically. Not wanting to look like a tit and trying desperately to show how amazing I am in the kitchen I chopped off the heads of my underwater friends, cut off their tails and fins, and finally ripped out their insides! Giving them a after-life massage with some lemon, salt and pepper I wrapped them in a towel of tin foil and stuck them in the fire pit for all of about five minutes. Its OK though they had three skewers of prawn-y pal's to keep them company whilst they steamed away. I was very impressed with myself and they tasted wonderful. 

And goodness me the faux pas didn't begin their either as Friday night we all congregated at a posh local restaurant with the whole Cheese family out to celebrate Pappa Cheese's birthday. Apparently he is near to sixty but I myself cannot see how this is possible since both Momma and Pappa Cheese look so young. Very confusing. Nevertheless the moment come when I had to break the seal. choosing y moment carefully I politely excused myself from the table and made my way across the tinie-weenie restaurant floor to a door in which I thought would lead to a entrance and lavatories. I was taken aback however after entering through said door and noticing that it was an extension of the establishment and tonight was hosting a meeting. Obviously very important and not wanting to disturb such pressing matters I asked shyly where the toilets were. They looked at me with utter disgrace and contempt. The faces stared at me. I stared back. It was a tense battle of wills and I was literally shitting myself. After what seemed like an eternity of angry looks one spokesperson pointed to a door across the room and motioned me to go and inform me that I should not call them toilets I should call them lavatories. Not wanting to upset or disturb the committee any further I hurried along passed the glares. Only as I turned my back to leave I heard a little voice within the group of obvious villagers piped up and whisp-squeeked (Across between squeaking and whispering) "She called them toilets!" To which nearly made me wet myself right there and then. As I sat on said throne I took a moment to realise what had actually in real-life, really happen. Not only had I used the incorrect phrase to describe such an act of nature but I had also just walked in and through what can only be seen as a regular meeting held by the Federation of Fouling. Other witty names I came up with at the table included 'The Toilet Committee' and the 'Poo Police' - All of which gave at least a chuckle when I explained what was on the other side of the rightly coloured, brown door. Although on later reflection I realise now that they were all involved with SHITT - the Society Held In Toilet Terminology. 

Laughs and giggles aside now though as I have a hectic week ahead of me! Tomorrow I am meeting up with Miss Chocolate to hear all about her life and liaisons. then on Friday is the first wedding of a friend - The marriage of Miss Bride and her fiancé whom I have both known for years and are a wonderful couple. Sunday I have the joy of spending it with my favourite ladies, Miss Tweedle-Dee, Miss Tweedle-Dumb and Miss Stuu for a lovely, hopefully sunny day out in Brighton for Miss Tweedle-Dumb's Birthday! A busy weekend jam-packed with family, friends and fun. Finally though after what seems like forever I have a normal social life again. And this time it even includes some regular exercise. 

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

Another Bank Holiday Weekend In Style!

Bloggers Note: I have recently decided to start a thing going whereby if you yourself have a 'Trial or Tribulation' that I can help with then feel free to drop me a free and fully confidential message by popping it on a mini form in the right-hand sidebar or email me at: Abbbey4@gmail.com :) xx

Good Evening One and All, 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

The Sweetest Goodbye

Hi, 

So finally I can now put behind me another sickeningly romantic Valentines Day and look forward to the rest of what 2014 has to offer. So far I have Reading Festival '14 and not much else but with rumours of another mini-break to Chester with Miss Chocolate and possibly Miss Tatts our old college friend as well as a boozed up sunshine break with Miss Chocolate and friends too, there is much to anticipate over the coming months. However I feel that I have become more and more withdrawn over the past few weeks, slowly drifting further into the background, which as you all know is very unlike me. However I am sure I will pick myself off and find something fun to do although life hasn't been very fun this week. Allow me to explain ... 

Rushing around like a headless chicken (Mmm Nando's) I tried my best to finish my mountain of work on my desk before finishing half-day on Friday. Who knew that having a spa day booked would be so stressful and energy-draining. But I must confess, that wasn't the only thing I was heading to London for. I had some stuff I needed to collect from Mr. Cheese that I had left at his flat I so wished to visit one last time, and conveniently for me that aggravatingly contradictory man was heading through Kings Cross St. Pancras Station as I was. Whilst I was going in for some retail therapy and a rub-down, he was heading out on a family weekend to York visiting Grandad Cheese in hospital. And so as I clambered onto the train with minutes to spare I wondered again about what would happen when we finally said goodbye for the very last time. Watching the trees and countryside of the home-counties rush past the window I knew that despite my planning and preparation for this concluding encounter I had been building up to since I took a stand on New Years Day that it could all fall apart as soon as we met. And to some extent it did. 

Of course irony would have a part to play in all of this at some point, this is me were on about here, and right on cue we learnt that Mr. Cheese and I had ended up in the wrong parts of the station and as we had done on our first date, mostly down to my incompetence at geographical locations. Nevertheless I found him, that odd man in casual clothing looking nothing of the London sort, slumped against the glass wall of Starbucks trying to look calm but emulating an awkwardness and uneasiness at the whole situation. Approaching him with a strut in my step I desperately tried to stay calm, trying to remember all the things I would say and the positive crap Miss Tweedle-Dumb and Miss Tweedle-Dee had drummed into me the past few months, not to mention countless others. Standing in front of the taller-than-remembered Mr. Cheese I saw him relax a little at the notion of my presence. Without a word I was pulled into a hug and almost instinctively I could feel my arms tightening around his waist, clutching at him never to let go. But I had to and noticing my warmth growing rapidly I reluctantly pulled away. 

As people sipped at over-priced coffee and as even more hustled and bustled around us I felt like Mr. Cheese and I were the only ones there. Making small talk we avoided the real reason we were both here in the middle of London. Rummaging in his bag he pulled out my things and handed them to me. I thanked him. Concerned about his Grandad I asked how he was. Mr. Cheese confirmed that all was not well and he was very sick. A million different scenarios ran through my mind and at the same time and as heartbreaking as it was to say I knew I had to offer some comfort. As we stood there eyes wide and filling with tears, saying nothing and everything simultaneously and knowing that the end was nearing I ran through the plan in my head once more. As I opened my mouth to speak, Mr. Cheese shook his head, still piercing my heart with those bright blue eyes of his. Ignoring his gesture I continued. 

"I will always be here for you. If you ever need me. Family, friends, work, anything. You know where I am." I croaked. I felt like I was in a Hollywood blockbuster but I knew that this wasn't going to end like it does in the movies. Taking my arm once more Mr. Cheese pulled me in for one last cuddle, confessing softly that he didn't want me to go. I agreed. I never wanted this to end. Ever. But I couldn't carry on. I cant carry on. I gave Mr. Cheese the chance to make it something wonderful but he chose not to. Slowly pulling away I went to start my well-rehearsed monologue but before I got a chance Mr. Cheese stole my spotlight. "Please don't go. I miss you." He said, voice breaking under every word whilst fighting back tears that threatened to spill over onto his cheeks. Standing there in Kings Cross St Pancras there was still so much left to say. I wanted to scream at Mr. Cheese how obvious it is that this is right. How much I miss him as well. How I crave his attention and how I long for every part of him - His eyes, his beard, his lips, his hands, his hair. Hell even the tippee boobs and chest wig I will miss and all the little things that annoyed me about him.

In a way I saw that history was repeating itself in a way. Mr. Cheese had been in a similar situation only a year beforehand when a close family member passed away. Whilst I felt awful for having to do this now but I couldn't see any other way of fixing it. With his words I knew exactly what he wanted to say. I understood that Mr. Cheese missed me and I knew he didn't want me to go either but I think what he really wanted to say was 'I need you'. Gathering up the rest of my courage I pulled myself together to finish the show. I concluded with I had to go and that I will always love him. Kissing him softly and hearing my heart crack yet again I walked away, blending into the city crowds. As hot wet tears steamed I wondered where it had all gone wrong and if there was any hope of it blossoming again. But no. The chance was given and the choice was made. Now we have to lye in the beds that we made. Alone. 

A relaxing spa, massage and a drink with an friend took the edge off my afternoon engagement however as the journey home took a hold I could help but well-up again and so terminated my Friday; Crying all the way home listening to Maroon 5 and Ed Sheeran. Oh how break-ups fail to disappoint. As Dad has always said - Its always better in the morning (Meaning issues, not sex although it is a valid point to make that sex in the morning is just as fun as when the sun goes down). Upon rising from my bed on Saturday morning with the acknowledgement that I have less than ten hours to put together all my furniture with the help of Papa and turn my flat into a home ready for my house-warming not to mention cramming in some food shopping and relaxy-time. After spending the day calming my father down about the 'poxy wardrobe' and 'wanking bed' (don't quite know how either of those are possible for inanimate objects but there you go, Dad logic) I then embarked on some food shopping and tidying for the evenings entertainment. 

As I introduced the party guests to my humble home I was bombarded with Oohs and Ahhs and a steady flow of compliments from all and as we continued into the night I was glad I had something to occupy myself with although was fully aware that I still wasn't myself after yesterday's meeting. Saturday soon turned to Sunday and after waking up in all the wrong places, me and my entourage headed out for breakfast and not forgetting that I was having a date that afternoon with Mr. Minigolf I made sure to look my best. Unfortunately just after finishing breakfast I received a incredulous message that my date would have to be called off due to a break-in and that Mr. Minigolf and I would have to rearrange our little date for another time. In all honesty I think maybe some 'pieds froids' have taken hold although I am optimistic that we do want to meet-up at some point.

So that was my weekend, a somewhat bitter/sweet affair tinged with unfortunate incidents and sprinkled with erupting laughter and friends. Whilst the door is beginning to close on the saga with Mr. Cheese, I did receive a message from him asking to talk. I explained that I am more than happy to talk and to listen to what he has to say but I have said everything I want to a million times before, and whilst I cant see what difference it will make, I am happy to hear him out. Until that happens though I hope that I can get better and make life a little more happier than it has been ...

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

A Look Back In Time

Hello Again, 

Twelve months. Fifty-two weeks. Three-hundred and sixty-five days. However you phrase it it has been a year, and what a year it has been! Not quite as dramatic and emotional as last year but nevertheless an eye-opener and a year to remember in my life as being the year of hope. Hope for a better life beyond where I am now and hope for one day finally getting over and coming to terms with Mr. Workaholic and the scars he has left me with. 

This year I have catapulted myself back onto the dating scene and created romances with some unlikely fellows from my past and a few fresh faces too. Mr. Coffee whilst we didn't work out, we still talk and will remain friends forever. Mr. Carrots I have since not spoken to but feel that this is best since the feelings received were stronger than being emitted. Mr. Accent I have not encountered since my TV appearance and don't plan on meeting up but you never know, could be a late grower - Like mould! And to all those others met under the cover of darkness in a stuffy club with music thumping and strobe lights blinking across the revellers, I bid you a fair well for this year and look forward to seeing you all next as my plans for being single still exist. And I know your all wondering about that little charmer, Mr. Cheese. Well I haven't missed him out. As it approaches the six-month mark in the early New Year, I have decided to cool it off for a bit. I have alot of stuff I need to sort out in my own life and having the constant 'will-we-wont-we' battle inside my head is stating to wear on me. I am starting off the New Year by having to move yet again and the stresses of that are already starting to pile up, not to mention not knowing when or whether my job will go permanent and on top of all that there is a storm coming in the way of a family argument with a magnitude to match a tornado. I am confused at when I stand in this whole thing and what we are, both going forward into the New Year but also beyond that. I still don't know how I feel about being solely someone elses and at the same time I know it would feel good too. Both Mr. Cheese and I have our own things to worry about in January so I'm hoping he will use this opportunity to reflect on the past few months and decide what he really wants. They always say that distance makes the heart grow fonder!

Also this year I have created some unforgettable memories with friends. From Miss Chocolate and I having a frolicking Friday night out in Frodsham earlier in the year to the night-out disaster that ended with Miss Tweedle-Dumb and I in bed by 10-O'clock after drinking too much. All memories that will stick with me and keep me chuckling well into 2014. One thing I have learnt however is the sad story of how Miss Tweedle-Dumb, despite our antics is possibly moving to Europe to start a new life with her boyfriend whom recently was offered a job in Austria. Now don't grab your hankies (Or voo-voo-saila's) just yet as nothing has been confirmed and are pipe-dreams at the moment but I suspect that if all goes well, or not so, my fabulous Miss Tweedle-Dumb will be jetting off to start a life of Strudel and Bratwurst before we know it. But don't you all worry I will make sure she gets a send off like you have never seen before. As for Miss Tweedle-Dee, I'm hoping that regardless of our clashing opinions and different tastes that she and I will become closer as friends and learn to love each others annoying little traits. Miss Chocolate and I have a year of debauchery ahead of us in the form of more weekends away together, hopefully a week getting off our tits in a party island where the whether is hot and the booze is flowing, not to mention a steady flow of men to get our fangs into! 

And so I end this year as I did this time last year, with a man I am at a cross-roads with and feeling somewhat fulfilled in the year I have endured. I am proud to say that I have yet again survived a year of Trials and Tribulations of a Twenty-Something! 

I hope you all have a happy New Year and keep safe. I'll see you next year!

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

Torn Between the Devil and The Deep Blue Sea

Evening everyone, 

So last week I spoke of my tales of old in which I relived some memories from college, not all of them lovely ones mind? But I hope you enjoyed them as much as I did writing them. Its nice to see sometime how much you have grown up since then, even if it was only a few years ago. This week has been a ball breaker at work, slogging it out trying to catch as much money as possible before the year end and what with loosing a couple of weeks in December already down to Christmas and New Years you can imagine how manic everyone offices are. Nevertheless I know you all well enough by now to know that you don't tune in every week to hear about how spiffing my job in finance is. You wanna know about the sex, scandal and slip-ups and I don't blame you.

Now after our conversation a few weeks ago with Mr. Cheese and I, I felt comfortable about my place within our 'relationship-that's-not-a-relationship' and was confident about the direction my life was taking. Although I have felt as though life in general has become a bit humdrum since I'm not partying as much due to the colder climate and as a result becoming a bit of a boring arse! So knowing fully my position in life I decided to go on another adventure and back to a time before Cheese and Butterfly bridges. I have reinvented myself and popped myself back on the shelf again like an adorable fluffy teddy-bear. Although this time I don't know how I entirely feel about being on the market again for the second time this year; Especially when I feel someone else has already invested a fair bit into me.

On the one hand I feel like life is lagging a bit of late and for someone whom only just this time last year was embarking on their first taste of the dating world after being out of the game for so long I can hardly blame myself for wanting more. I'm young and need to act as such. I hate the fact that when I get in a relationship I turn into a little timid housewife from 1954 whereby I do all the stuff a lady should do and answer to every man's want, need, wish and desire. Now don't get me wrong a part of me loves being that person in a relationship but lets be honest I will have my whole life (once married and trapped) to make my husband feel that regal and empowered. Right now I need to find myself more than I have already and have fun not worrying about what lies beyond the following year. I need to party and enjoy life because before long I will have children tugging at my ankles and a sex-deprived caveman whom deserves all the praise in the world for putting up with an accident-prone bimbo like me. Its nothing to do with Mr. Cheese at all, I just feel that I should take advantage of the opportunities now so I don't regret anything when I'm cleaning dried baby-milk-puke off my new blouse. 

After posting up some new pictures and trawling through all those frogs, Ive found a few good looking fellas and already have several dates lined up for the rest of the year and even a few into next. One gentleman I have made acquaintances with has already booked me for next Sunday afternoon/evening and we are going Rock-Climbing. Now I know my profile says ''think outside the box'' when it comes to going on a date but I must admit I was a little taken aback and surprised when I was told we would be getting to know each other when my derrière will be scaling a Faux Everest. Nevertheless, with Miss Tweedle-Dee and Miss Tweedle-Dumb's persuasion I have obliged and this time next week I can assure you I will have another embarrassing narrative for you all. Another male I met was a rather forward chap from Northamptonshire which already had set alarm-bells ringing since I used to co-habit there with Mr. Workaholic. He suggested a movie night, snuggled up. Sounds blissful until you realise that he only has a telly in his room, has no sofa - just a bed and he like to spoon. No problems with any of those things, but for a first date. Maybe not. 

I am sure though that whilst I have the free-range to do anything as and when I please with who I please (or pleases me as the case may be) that I shall make full use of it. But on the other hand I feel that maybe it would be nice to settle down and have some stability for once. Next April it will have been two-years since Mr. Workaholic left and I am glad to say that I feel that if I wanted it that bad that I could deal with a relationship. Mr. Cheese is a wonderful person. So kind and caring; considerate and thoughtful. Heck he even turned up at mine on Saturday afternoon with a bunch of Christmas flowers. The reason? Simply answered with a smile and a "Just because". He likes me and I like him. When we lye together and laugh about all the silly things in life like call-centre's and peoples names I realise that I might already be searching for something that could be right under my snozzer! But this then poses a big question. One that my dear friend's Miss Tatts and Miss Chocolate asked me in detail over coffee on a catch-up in London this weekend. She asked me to answer it truthfully. "Is he 'The One?" 

What a monumental question that is. The over-bearing question could only be answered honestly and for a girl who thought she had fallen in love with a guy she wasn't even exclusively in a relationship with it was hard. Mr. Cheese and I have only been seeing each other for five months, and that sort of question is almost unanswerable at this stage. I do care for Mr. Cheese alot. A hell of alot. But whether he will be 'The One' who I see my fairytale life with is still questionable. I mean I'm not going to lie. I have thought about it. Maybe every time I pass a wedding shop, be it with or without him the idea catapults into my mind. But unlike all the other times I push them aside, accepting that it may not be that face that I see when my veil finally goes up. As time has gone by over the past few months I have thought about all manner of things, not just weddings. I have thought about the before's and after's. The living together and moving in, the family life and raising of children. But all of it is trivial because I know it may well not be with Mr. Cheese. Its nice to think about it, but reality has taught me in the past and if I have ever learnt anything from Mr. Workaholic it was to never trust anyone with your hopes and dreams because you may have thought that you have found everything you have ever been looking for, but you may not be what they have been looking for ...

All in all Mr. Cheese is a fantastic guy and I do honestly mean it from the bottom of my heart that I can see myself spending many an afternoon frolicking in each others company bumbling along from months, maybe even years to come. But do I want that? Because lets be honest we are all guilty of hurrying things along once they are official. After two people meet its "So when are you two going to hook up?" After that its the dilemma of "When are you two going to move in together?" Then its the proposal, marriage, kids, house, dog, schools, cars and who is included on the joint Christmas list. Whereas I enjoy partying and having a cheeky kiss and a dance with randomer's I don't know the names of, whenever I am exhausted, lying on those tee-pee moobs playing with the chest wig, I can imagine it being anyone else I would want to be with. The one and only. Mr. Cheese. But I like things as they are; Freedom if and when I want it but with the knowledge that in the background, something beautiful is growing.

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

College Days!

Hi There, 

Another week down and only a few more left until Christmas is here and already I'm like a kid in a sweet shop. So after a lazy weekend in decorating my little flat with Miss Tweedle-Dee and Miss Tweedle-Dumb and having a good old girlie sleepover I am glad to have time to myself this weekend what with not seeing Mr. Cheese and all. Its not that we didn't want to see each other because we did, it was just the fact that getting anywhere on public transport in the UK is such a ball-ache and so very expensive. Although a quiet weekend in has left me craving another night out with my fellow single wing-women, Miss Chocolate. Oh the fun we used to have in college, or outside of it as the case may be. We had some wild times, most of which was fuelled by alcohol and exploits of a naughty nature. It was on one of these occasions that I fell arse over tit for a boy whose wardrobe was more colourful than Elton Johns and had more complications that flat pack furniture. Meet Mr. Babycakes ... 

Ever since I first started College back in September 2009 there have been many people that I fancied that have come and gone with the change in seasons. It was my first few months in College where I met one of my closest friends, Miss Chocolate. At first she wasn't my cup of tea but after spending a few projects larking around and filming together we soon became the best of friends. She knew all my secrets including who I was crushing on and all the gossip and drama that came with it. And despite being labelled the 'married couple' of our year we had some laughs including our first College trip away. Up until the last day of our College trip had been a bit of a downer. Whilst the filming was fun and exciting and I enjoyed being in front of the camera I was missing home and my Dad especially. It was very unlike me to get home-sick, but somehow I was. The last day of the holiday was upon us and as filming commenced I thought about how the holiday had gone and as the clapper went down our Tutor yelled it was a wrap and we all hugged and cheered before heading off to get ready for the after-parties that followed. 

I didn't really feel in the party mood and hadn't really brought anything to wear anyhow. "I'll just sit in with a good book" I thought. Be a loner. As everyone left our Tutors Chalet come Studio to start a night of complete mayhem and drinking I stayed behind to change out of my costume and back into normal clothes. Mr. Babycakes, my on-screen boyfriend; Who was that last person to leave and just before I went to change I asked him to wait for me so I wouldn't be alone. He obliged and stuck about until I was finished changing. We left our Tutor's 'Studio' shortly after and Mr. Babycakes offered to walk me back to the Chalet I shared with Miss Chocolate and some other College friends. As I explained that I didn't have the key so there would be not much point we started to walk in the freezing night air. It started to rain and it wasn't before long that I was shivering and getting wet. Kindly, Mr. Babycakes slipped his arm around my waist and I copied. We were a friendly bunch in College; always hugging and kissing one another so this whilst felt romantic and lovely didn't come across as such at first. 

Walking along the gravel roads that crunched beneath our feet I explained that there really was no point in us going back to mine without a key and if we wanted it then we would have to walk all the way down to the sea front in the freezing and now getting heavier down pour to collect it. Suddenly we stopped outside an unfamiliar and vacant Chalet and Mr. Babycakes mentioned how he thought I was cold. I said that I was and he quickly hugged me, unzipping his Mr. Babycakeset and wrapping me in it. This meant that we were now very, very close. I liked it. In fact, I liked him. From the moment we first started college in September I had fancied him, but he was pushed aside as I was in a different group to him as well as social status too. But nevertheless I wasn't complaining about being this close to him, and apparently, neither was he. Mr. Babycakes asked me if there was anything wrong, I had seemed a bit dull and upset. I explained that it was my character to be gloomy and bitter. He replied smartly with something about if it had anything to do with missing my Dad. I agreed. How did he know that? Miss Chocolate probably, I know she would have been trying to get us talking more what with me crushing on him a little. With this he gave me a cuddle. I love his cuddles; he was so gentle and sweet. Our heads started to become very close. Very, very close and it wasn't long before our foreheads and noses were touching as we gazed into each other’s eyes. in the crisp, wet twilight. 

"We probably shouldn’t be here; it’s a family Chalet, mines just over here." I said taking some much needed control of the situation. Together, Mr. Babycakes and I continued to walk along the gravely path towards my Chalet, talking about my Dad and filming over the past week. Once we arrived I trotted up and past the front window and I wrestled with the door handle. The lights were on but there was no-one home. Everyone was out and the doors were locked. "As they should be" I thought, my laptop is in there. And again we found ourselves entwined together hugging and cuddling as I rested my head on his shoulder, nearly ready to fall asleep as I felt so comfortable with him. Mr. Babycakes and I stood there in a warm embrace for what seemed like ages. Stood there, directly in between the two lit doors to the Chalet I did not possess a key to. As I pulled away from the hug I caught his eyes and instantly forgot what I was about to say and just stared as he did too. Shiny and blue like a polished gem. The silence was finally broken when he quietly whispered the fact that our on screen kiss was knocked off the schedule after he fell ill on the second day of filming and we had to cast another person to play the part. 

Typical me and without thinking; I shocked both of us when I said in a husky voice that we could just kiss anyway. Mr. Babycakes seemed to enjoy what I had just said and took it as the green light to continue with anything else he had in mind. I soon realised what I had said and apologised and yet again I was interrupted by his sparkly eyes. Slowly the sentence trailed off as our heads began to move closer together, and as we commenced the part where our skin touched our heads started to lean to one side my mind was screaming with joy! As it started to rain heavier our lips locked, and we began to kiss passionately under the night sky. We continued to kiss for a long time, gently testing the waters. Suddenly my ears pricked up and apart from the rain I could hear footsteps in the wet gravel. Big footsteps. Heavy and very nearly upon us. Not wanting to get caught canoodling I reluctantly pulled away and as Mr. Babycakes collected himself a friend of Miss Chocolate’s walked round the corner waving a shiny, silver key. With a fag in his mouth Miss Chocolate’s associate handed me the key and I let us all in, grateful for the warmth. Pulling out my stash of smuggled alcohol I asked if my key-bearer was staying. 

"Nah can’t stay. Our Tutor is having a wrap party over at his, he's finished filming. Are you coming?" The key-man asked, his cigarette bouncing up and down like mad as he continued to talk with it hanging out of his mouth. I declined. As he left I locked the door, unsure as to why I was locking it and when I was going to be unlocking it and what would be happening in between then and now. A short silence was raising its head as I asked if Mr. Babycakes was leaving too. He too declined. I asked if he would like a drink. He said yes. As I went to pour the Vodka into tumblers, Mr. Babycakes broke the quietness with a question. 

"OK, well we can either forget that ever happened as of tomorrow or continue with it and go with the flow?" I stopped in my tracks as he said this and began to reflect upon what I should say. "Forget it tomorrow? Surely if you’re going to forget something you would forget it now, wouldn't you?" I said as a smile played across my face. I looked over to him and he looked uncomfortable and not sure as to what to say to explain himself. I don't think Mr. Babycakes expected such an answer to come back. “Touche” I thought. As I handed him a drink and took my seat next to him on the couch. Instantly I turned to face him, paying no attention at all to the television that he had switched on upon his arrival. No sooner than I had a chance to sit down and the flirting and teasing commenced. It started with playful hand and knee touching as we talked, progressing further to full blown seductiveness in everything that we did. 

I would play with his hair as he whispered in my ear. I would lean in close and reply in hushed tones. Mr. Babycakes seemed to enjoy this, a little more than one should when he has prior engagements. Nevertheless he didn't decline to my advances and proceeded to tell me exactly what they were doing to him, keeping no graphic details to himself. This in turn lead us to kissing again and this time I decided to turn up the heat a bit by softly biting his lower lip. Surprisingly you would think that he might want to pull away, since it is me that were on about here. Not exactly Sleeping Beauty am I. But for some unknown reason that I was not planning to confront, he didn't. Now you may be starting to think that this was happening all because of that drink. Well you would be wrong. I had one sip before sitting down with him and Mr. Babycakes hadn't even bothered with his. We were both completely sober. So you can imagine my amazement when he had told me that I was a good girl and I needed a treat. And yes. Indeed he did class that as a treat for me and not at all a for himself. Mr. Babycakes and I teased for the majority of the evening, seeing how far we could push each other. Turns out the floors the limit. With my knees firmly fixed in the short pile of my seaside Chalet. 

Standing back in the lounge of the Chalet I prepared to go outside and into the cold night air again by shoving on my coat and boots. When Mr. Babycakes wasn’t looking, I quickly took a swig of neat vodka to cushion the blow I had just encountered. As I turned to collect the keys from the sideboard, Mr. Babycakes gave me a hug but as we pulled away he went in to kiss me. I turned away positive that he would not approve of the lingering taste in my mouth. He looked at me and gathered what I was trying to say. Then he simply kissed me softly on my cheek. I think at that point I had melted and realised that I wanted him all to myself. Mr. Babycakes kissed me several times on the cheek before we left, departing separate ways to our own group of peers saying that we needed to exchange numbers sometime. 

Oh yes. How myself and Miss Chocolate had some gossip to share in College. I'm surprised we passed. I am sure that we have many more years to party on as wing-man and wing-woman. 

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx