Passion, Persistence and Puke!

Afternoon Everyone, 

So all is well in the world this week. My dilemma essentially has resolved itself as I choose my head over my heart (for once). This has been made maybe slightly easier by the fact that the 'Mystery Man' otherwise now referred to as Mr. Welsh has not been in contact with me since. Although I think that maybe Mr. Cheese may be something worth investigating further - Especially as how things have been ramped up a gear ...

So since our date last week with Mr. Cheese I was struggling with the fact that whilst I tried to tell him through body language that I wasn't comfortable with kissing on a first date he still went in for it and kissed me anyway. Not that it was an awful 'washing machine' experience like some other frogs I have kissed, but as already explained last week was sweet and innocent. We had made plans to meet a week on, however after both Mr. Cheese and I found ourselves at a loose end on Friday night we decided to spend the evening together; And so I had a wonderful evening out in a quaint little Italian restaurant in town. I think the staff could tell we were a 'new pairing' and made all their efforts to make us feel comfortable. Not that I paid much attention to the staff, especially when I have the company of Mr. Cheese rambling on about the appreciation of hats, zebra's and other madness that I thought only I possessed. 

Finally I have found a fellow foodie that doesn't just survive on chicken dinosaurs and potato smiles for breakfast, lunch and frigging dinner like Mr. Workaholic. Although, until your in that position, you never know just how difficult it is to eat a salad gracefully is when the bowl it comes in is lopsided and you have half the Amazon in there too. Desperately trying to cram a forkful of leaves and chicken into your face-hole before your date look's up from his own delicious meal is very hard but I think I got the hang of it. Maybe that's what the staff we smiling about, that funny little women in the corner wrestling with the artistically ridiculous bowl that is completely impractical. Following my wrestling match came an indulgent pudding of Tiramisu and Profiteroles shared with my date, Mr. Cheese. And so there we sat, for once barely saying a thing as we ate our desserts with twinkles in our eyes, slowly licking the spoon and twisting our tongues round a silver fork. As if it couldn't get more intense, Mr. Cheese revealed how one of his siblings would probably be spying from another restaurant across the road, trying to get a glimpse of the action. 

After dinner we made a swift exit hoping not to be caught sight of by Mr. Cheese's brother and made it to the safe haven of a local pub. From the outside it didn't look too busy and so we went in. Sod's law would say that as soon as we walked in it was packed to the rafters and after buying a couple of drinks we spent the rest of the evening there, right up until closing time. We talked thoroughly about everything and anything. But then came the subject of what happened to the 'Ex'. Sweetly and as if not to impose, Mr. Cheese simply hinted at the question so as not to scare or upset me, and, since he himself had opened up about his ex-girlfriend (who sounds like a boring-arse anyhow) I felt compelled to tell him. So for the first time in many, many months I let loose and took myself back to a rainy Friday evening in April last year when my world caved in on itself. I didn't cry, although I did feel very emotional and I think I would have if I had not stopped at certain parts of the story. 

At that moment most men I would have expected to pop on their running shoes and make a swift dash for the exit but Mr. Cheese did not. He stayed put. He comforted me with wise words on how, as I had always hoped, that Mr. Workaholic had lost the best thing that ever happened to him. So sweet we sat in that beer garden surrounded by very loud, drunken, middle-aged people and we talked away for hours. It almost seemed that everyone else just melted away and we were the only two in the world. I loved it. Everything was so relaxed and laid back. My worries of getting serious and falling were suddenly gone and both Mr. Cheese and I agreed that we liked things how they were and not to change them until we were both ready. 

After last orders were called I invited him back to mine where we simply kissed and he called a cab. And that was it, but for some odd reason my bed felt comfier that night, softer than ever before and I fell into a deep sleep. Saturday morning came and went as I passed most of the day lounging in bed listening to old songs thinking about the future with someone other than my Mr. Workaholic. It then suddenly dawned on me. I was thinking about sex. But not just general sex, I was thinking about soft and passionate embraces, lust-filled and exciting with someone other than my Ex! Oh what a feeling it is to realise you are now free from his wretch'ed face! Nevertheless I had to get up at some point as I was meant to be joining Miss Tweedle-Dee and Miss Tweedle-Dumb on a night out with an old acquaintance of theirs, Miss Stuu. Sadly though we never made it to the planned night out as both me and Miss Tweedle-Dumb had subsequently redecorated the inside of Miss Stuu's mothers car. I have never felt guilt like it and both me and the Tweedle's were in bed by ten that night.  

Sunday morning broke and it suddenly dawned on me that date number three is on the horizon. I checked my phone as it bleeped with four messages from what appeared to be a very, very intoxicated Mr. Cheese. Laughing along with Miss Tweedle-Dumb we set a time where we would both be able to make some sort of recovery. Making the journey back to Bedford with Miss Tweedle-Dumb, stopping en-route for a burger from a fast food chain the conversation soon turned to relationships and where things were destining for me and my Cheesey friend, although thankfully I was able to just shrug it off with a few simple answers, although in my head I hoped that maybe in the future something good would come of me muddling up my bridges and meeting that quirky Mr. Cheese.

Arriving home I changed, showered and beautified myself before spending the late afternoon wandering round the parks and rivers of Bedford with Mr. Cheese on our third date. A wonderful afternoon, only to be topped off with a fiery evening of making out on my sofa. It could have gone a lot further if I wanted it. Hell, it could have gone all the way if I hadn't kept cool and collected. Although I would be lying if I said that I wasn't disappointed that we didn't fall asleep together that night. It sounds so simple when writing that we just made out - But for nearly three hours he made me feel like a million dollars. Sweet kisses to my neck and bust made me giddy with excitement and anticipation. I had not felt like that in years and can barely remember a time when Mr. Workaholic had made me feel so wanted. Although just as the passion was taking a hold and the intense sexual chemistry hit a peak whilst Mr. Cheese and I straddled one another on the floor kissing madly I murdered the moment by asking when the last train was. Probably should have kept quiet given the heat of the moment. I didn't want him to miss the last train back to London where he lives though and in all honestly wanted to wait for a few more dates until I 'put out'.

And so Mr. Cheese left. Although this time there shall be a long gap between our next encounters since the jammy bastard is off on a fortnight long, all expenses paid, family holiday  to the hot and luscious islands of Greece. Well I think Greece is an island? (Hmmm) So now I wait and think about what could have been but also of what might be. Where will this go and will it end like last time? I shall have to wait and see, but I am positive that Cupid has well and truly got us with his arrow ... 

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

And So The Battle Commences ...

Morning All,

So I am writing this earlier than usually. Quite simply two reasons. One - I am convinced that my neighbours are having sex which depresses me in so many ways as I feel that I have been now celibate for at least eight months now and that I could practically join a nunnery and become god's 'Lady in Waiting'. And number two is a dilemma which I can only see getting more and more difficult as time progresses. Firstly though before I go on I should probably start from the beginning. Yes. That would help ...

So last week was all about getting settled in and preparing for the enormous weekend ahead. Unfortunately Miss Chocolate was ill so all Friday frolics were postponed until further notice. I did however end up spending the night with Miss Tweedle-Dee and Miss Tweedle-Dumb in her room watching an old comedy film. It was suggested that after we would play a game of 'gay chicken' although I am still unsure fully of what it is all about I am pretty adamant I would win! Saturday afternoon was spent trawling round  a shopping mall darting from store to store praying that Miss Tweedle-Dumb and I would find something suitable and in our size for the Wrap Party in London later on in the evening. It had been decided early on in the week that we would just get the train home after the party. I mean its not like anything fun would happen right? Wrong ...

After frantically spending more time than originally thought getting ready and as usual I was running late, both me and Miss Tweedle-Dumb made it to the station just in time to catch the fast train. Sipping on cocktails on the way down I knew that it was going to be good night. I was looking forward to seeing all the fresh faces and enjoying the atmosphere of a high-end City bar. Upon arrival, Me and the lone Tweedle wandered to the starting Piccadilly nightclub swishing past all the people queued up and stating that my name was on the guest list I felt like a star - Even if it was for lemons, milk and mould! Shyly climbing the stairs in my sparkly golden heels I reached the top and saw it was packed out. I noticed a few faces at the bar and after having to take out a mortgage and three loans to pay for my one singular drink of the evening there I headed to find the host.

A special area had been made up specifically for the shows wrap party and I began to clock more and more faces, a few in particular I took a liking too. Soon I was mingling with the best of them and some real gems as far as people go. Then the chaos began and we headed for the next club up the road in posh Mayfair, London. Off the heels came and on went the flats to make the ten-minute commute to the next venue of choice, headed up by me and only a mapping application on my phone. Once in the chic, cosmopolitan bar I wondered where the men I had my eyes on had got too. Turning my attention back to conversation with Miss Tweedle-Dumb I could tell that whilst the night was barely getting started for me, it would very shortly be over before it had even started properly.

Descending the stairs to a smokey, seedy dance floor I was excited and enthralled by the atmosphere. granted I did feel that a sardine would have more room to move than I did at that time, but I was caught in the moment and loving every moment of it; Especially since I knew we would have to leave soon, being the last trains and all. Just before I went home though something spectacular happened! So on the dance floor was I and so was the rest of the cast and plus-ones, and after being force-fed expensive Vodka by a fetching man I headed for the exit, already well aware that Miss Tweedle-Dumb would not approve of us missing our train home, nor at the fact I had left her by herself whilst I said goodbye. But as I stepped down from the stage, and before I waded through the crowd an arm stretched out in front of me. Taking the mysterious hand although knowing whom it belonged to I fell into his arms. Now I shall not kiss and tell (and you can all take that comment on complete face value as it is true, we did have a cheeky one) but what a wonderful man I met. Now, you guys all know how I feel about accent's and this one is stunning. They are so important! Enough said although I refuse to reveal anymore as this might be en-route to somewhere since we have been in contact since.

Sunday was a lazy day. The morning was spent sleeping since me and Miss Tweedle-Dumb didn't arrive back home until four-in-the-morning. Another rushed Get-out-of-bed routine though as I realized I had less than an hour to prepare for my date with the now known Mr. Cheese. The afternoon itself was laid-back and relaxed. As planned we bought some vintage cheese and ate this in a quiet beer garden with cider and conversation as fuel for our fire. We had been chatting most evenings in the week and had finally decided to meet each other at two O'clock on Sunday afternoon, although this is where I had made a slight mistake in terms of location. You see in Bedford there is a river and on this river there are many bridges one of which they call - The Butterfly Bridge. A romantic symbol some may say, especially for a man. Something that makes you wonder why would a man choose that to be the location for meeting a date. Regardless of the philosophy behind the statement that was in itself perfectly unscripted, it does still not undermine the fact that I still managed to go to the wrong bridge. In typical 'Moi' fashion I had gone to the wrong bridge. So as ten past two arrived I came to realise that not only did I research into what the romanticised Butterfly Bridge looked like, but I also had my back to it the entire time. An omen maybe for me and Mr. Cheese?

Sunday afternoon ended as my Saturday night had as well - with a kiss. So impromptu and uninhibited Mr.Cheese swooped in whilst I was explaining something probably mundane and kissed me soft on the lips. Nothing special and no full on make-out sesh here. Just simple, sweet, innocent kisses. So very awkward as this isn't something I would usually consent to on a first date but when the arm slinks around you and there isn't anyone around to see the PDA (a Public Display of Affection - not and actual PDA; That would be weird) you feel inclined to just say yes. It was the same when we departed a sweet kiss goodbye, but not before confirming next Sunday as our second 'Date'!

Oh but yes. Here I am in the reality of my now rush-hour love life. Mr. Cheese and my Mystery man. I like both.  But I also like being single. But I also would like to have something more in terms of a relationship. But I want a life outside of one too. I never do make things easy for myself. And I always did say that there will come a time when you wait and wait and wait and then suddenly your numbers are up. But which chips do I cash in? Which one should I gamble on? I know which one I want because I cant stop thinking about it and wondering -but is it the winning ticket?

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx