The best day of my life: Part II

Afternoon, 

Continued ...

It was already dark when I left my nail appointment. At nearly 7pm I was already an hour late for meeting the florist at the church and I still had to go and grab something for breakfast the following morning, pick up Miss Hackney and get back home to finish off Mr. Warehouse's final wedding gift, which I shan't disclose here as it is now going to be a Christmas present and by the time I got home at 8pm I thought fuck it I can't be arsed to finish it off and if I start it I won't stop until it's finished and I wanted a fairly early night. So when we arrived home back to the house I shared with Mr. Warehouse and our Doggo's the last thing I had in mind was eating or sharing a bottle of champers as Miss Hackney had suggested as she tucked into her pie and chips from the local chippy. It was coming up to nine and I was ready for bed. 

And so for once I declined the Friday night Prosecco and headed to the sheets. Showing Miss Hackney the bathroom and making sure she had everything she needed (although I did end up forgetting to get her a duvet for her night on the sofa) I settled down with the pooches in my marital bed, watched some murderous true-crime YouTube videos, and was asleep by about 10pm. Waking the following morning I couldn't sleep. Unlike normal, I awoke at 6am and couldn't get back to sleep. I was wide awake. I stayed like that for a good couple of hours, maybe drifting in and out of sleep, but mainly awake and thinking about what the day will bring before I am back with my head on a pillow, only next time it will be in a plush central Bedford hotel suite overlooking the River Ouse. But oh there was so much to come before then. Soon after waking, I could hear my phone buzzing. Zzz, Zzzz, Zzzzz. I knew it was Mrs. Tweedle Dumb. 

"You should be asleep," I messaged her, to which her reply was "Well so should you but I can't sleep, and neither can you for the excitement". It was true. More than anything I was just excited. Excited to see my fiance. Excited to see everyone. Excited to finally be able to enjoy all of my hard work with spreadsheets and payments and GoogleDocs from the last three years. I couldn't wait anymore. At 7am I messaged Miss Hackney from upstairs wanting to not disturb her if she was still sleeping. By 8am I could wait no longer and so headed down as quietly as possible. By the time I reached the couch, our little dog had already pounced on my Maid of Honour, probably forcing her from any sleep she was enjoying. 

Within an hour I was in hair and make-up, sat in my bridal pyjamas, having my hair curled and put up as we had planned. I had feebly attempted to eat some spiced Christmas jam on toast and only really managed a few bites, maybe half a slice at most. My mug of coffee too was still half drunk by the time the Make-up Artist arrived too. Soon enough the door was going every couple of minutes. In time, my mother-in-law and her boyfriend turned up with their dog (Frankenstein's sister). Confirming the details of the day she seemed confused and panic set in. 

"So you are to come to the church with our dogs for the family photos, yeah?" I confirmed with the boyfriend one last time "because I have cancelled the other people and companies that we had quotes from because you said several weeks ago you could do it". He nodded and agreed it would be no problem, bidding us farewell as he made himself scarce for a few hours before the ceremony. "OK see you in a few hours with our gorgeous fur babies," I said as I waved him off. The final few hours of Bridal Prep were leisurely paced as I flitted from MUA to the door and back again. Photographers, Videographers, Florist, Visitors and well-wishers. It was a busy morning, but we still had plenty of time to cram in a couple of bottles of Prosecco. 

Soon enough though it was time to get ready. For real this time. Stepping into my dress and with the help of my Mother-In-Law and Miss Hackney as my Maid of Honour, I became a bride. As I dialled Mrs Tweedle Dumb's number in Los Angeles I was nervous for her to get the first look. She was the first person ever to see me in all my get-up. All morning I prayed that she would be my next knock at the door. Alas it was only to be via WhatsApp video call but at least this was better than nothing at all. But then in a flash, the car was outside and it was time to step out into the fresh Autumnal sunshine. Walking out I saw my Dad turn and shed a tear with an accompanying smile. I was pleased that after everything we had been through that he was here, now, to take me to my Groom. As my Maid of Honour, Mother-In-Law and my Dad's Wife left for the church I headed indoors one last time to lock up and say one last see you soon to the dogs. I would only be seeing them again in an hour or so, but it still felt like something I should say goodbye for. Stepping into the wedding car I was excited and couldn't wait for my life to finally begin. I had expected the talk of "Are you sure you want to do this because it really isn't too late you know," to come from my Dad, but there wasn't, probably because he knew as well as I did that this was right for me. 

Standing at the church, blue skies and white fluffy clouds I had everything I could possibly want or need. Everything was just right. Perfect you might even say. As my father took my arm and we listened intently to what the reverend said I was excited to know that in just a few moments I would be seeing my husband. In just a few seconds I would be walking down the aisle, the one thing that has kept me going in my darkest of moments. In just a few minutes I would officially be changing my name and committing myself into marriage for the rest of my days. In just a few hours I would be leaving one family and joining another. 

"Are you ready to do this?" My father turned and asked me as Miss Hackney straightened me out and adjusted my veil over my face. Excitedly I quietly squeaked - Yes!

Walking into the church, organ starting to play my Dad and I walked through the huge archway and to the top of the aisle. As Dad went to step forward, I pulled him sharply back into alignment with me. I wanted to take it all in. I wanted to watch, look out and see all the faces and people who had joined us. I wanted to bask in this glory forever. I had thought of this moment at every difficult turn and twist in my life. Every evening on the bus home from college after I was kicked out of my family home, losing everything; I thought about that moment. Every time I broke down after yet another mean and hurtful phone call from my mother; I thought about that moment. Every night I cried myself to sleep from heartache following the break-down in my relationship with Mr. Workaholic; I thought about that moment. I thought about that moment and how sweet it would taste; How glorious it would feel knowing that all is right with the world. I made it. And there was my Husband, waiting, waiting for me. 

As the sun shone in through the medieval windows stained with biblical scenes and angels, tears began to fall from my cheeks as I became overwhelmed with emotion. It was then that I said out loud; "Ready" Stepping forward as I did so. It was second's really, maybe even milliseconds but it was something I am honestly so SO glad I did. Descending down the aisle I was slow and methodically stepping, as I had pretended to do so as a child with Mrs Tweedle Dumb and Miss Tweedle Dee. Fat tears were now rolling down my face as I desperately tried to compose myself. Soon enough I was there, standing next to my groom and noticing that he too had been and was now in fits of tears, although he will claim it was hayfever. 

The ceremony went beautifully, far more emotional and special and magical and personal than I could have ever hoped for or dreamt in my head. My new husband and I had to pause a few times throughout just to take it all in. This was especially so as we took a moment and stopped singing in our last song/hymn to listen, surrounded by the choir and hearing the backing vocals of our family and friends we simply took in the emotion behind the words we had chosen from Disney's Tangled OST, I See The Light:

And at last I see the light

And it's like the fog has lifted

And at last I see the light

And it's like the sky is new

And it's warm and real and bright

And the world has somehow shifted

All at once everything is different

Now that I see you ... 

Exiting the church as the bells rang out I looked up to the clear daylight. Searching the grounds of the church, however, I soon fixed my eyes on something that was not so perfect. There was my Mother-in-Laws Boyfriend standing a distance away so as to keep separate from the wedding guests due to his health complaints and risk of COVID, but with him was one dog, and it wasn't mine. It was his. He had failed to bring our fur-babies, our own little family, to greet us at the church. I was heartbroken. I felt so sad, knowing that in all of our wedding pictures there would be none of them. When they have both crossed over the rainbow bridge, it will be like they never even existed on our wedding day. Nothing. Admittedly he apologized at the time, but by then the damage was done. I was stood there in my dress and Mr Warehouse in his suit, I could hardly have kicked off. We can never get them back. We can never recreate that moment or what those images would have been. Never. I was, still am, devastated. 

We carried on with the day, enjoying a long and leisurely drive from the church to our reception venue at Stagsden Village hall where we were met by all of our wonderful friends and family. Petting and cuddling the farm animals we had hired as guest entertainment I was satisfied that people would be talking about our wedding for years to come. Goats, bunnies, Chicken's and a Pony, I bet you couldn't find another wedding like mine. Sitting to eat we roared with laughter and sometimes welled up as we listened to the lovely words and cracking jokes in the speeches. But as the night began to darken, and the daylight gave way to the moon I was sad that it was nearly over. Within moments we were cutting the cake and what feels like seconds later I was rick-rolling my Dad during the father-daughter dance (which came after my first dance with my new husband to which I yet again cried mostly throughout it all). 

All in a blink of an eye Mr Warehouse and I had swapped out doing shots of Tequila Rose, Cha-Cha-Sliding on the dancefloor and having sentimental moments outside with the likes of Mr CWG (basically thanking him since he was the whole reason we were all here today) and we were in the back f our white London Taxi Cab waving goodbye to our guests, off to Bedford's Mercure Hotel for our mini-moon and a few nights of wedded bliss before heading back to reality. Well at least until next week when we can submerse ourselves in newly-wedded bliss again as we head off on honeymoon! Egypt here we come!

'Til next time, Love A.Lou x

Remember, if you would like to purchase anything then please feel free to check out my store at: https://www.etsy.com/uk/shop/Wooftys or visit our Instagram @WooftysDogTreats and use "TATOATS21" to get 10% off your first order over £15.00.

The best day of my life: Part I

Good evening, 

Did you miss me? Sorry for not posting last week, unfortunately I had come down with a terrible cold and was feeling super ill. I am almost certain that this time last week I was in bed by the time I am writing this now. 

So I will start from the beginning. The days following my Hen Do / Bachelorette weekend were agony and sore. Full of aches and pains I was still recovering as the sun shone down I arrived for my bridal shower, excited and looking forward to seeing everyone. The day went wonderfully with everyone looking beautiful and enjoying a lovely afternoon of crafts and creative fun with flower arranging and afternoon tea. I was sad that Mrs Tweedle-Dumb couldn't be there and I probably should have bought some more prosecco as it disappeared waaay too quickly (I have no idea as to why?!) but alas we had a lovely time and everyone's arrangements came out looking slightly different from the last but all looking beautiful. I think I may have even convinced some people to join me and my Nanny Pumpkin for what I hope may even be a yearly traditional Christmas wreath making. 

In the final few days before the wedding Mr Warehouse and I felt a wave of calm wash over me, that and maybe the flu-meds were kicking in. I had the perfect run up to our big day as I had hoped. Early in the week me and the now husband watched telly, curled up on the sofa with the dogs, cosy and under the warmth of blankets with an Autumnal candle burning in the background. A scene far from what my father had predicated and pictured following his own wedding. in 2019  But I prided myself on my planning skills and because I had been so organised and prepped, we had time for what was important to us, even if that was EastEnders and some cheeky choccies. 

Wednesday I finished work at midday, heading off for my afternoon errands, although not before I was stopped leaving the office and instead handed a bottle of fizz and a wedding card from the guys and gals in the office. A sweet thank you for inviting them and congratulations on finally getting hitched. It's strange, I sort of always imagined myself leaving one of my other office jobs to go off and get married but no, it was this one. My colleagues were lovely and I was looking forward to seeing them on Saturday night, and for them to probably not have me in their earholes every five-minutes about wedding stuff blah blah blah. 

Pulling up for my eyelash appointment I was surprised when not only did she tell me she didn't have me in for a full set (I had been incorrectly booked in for an infill) but I was also told that they cant d it due to needing a patch test 24-hours beforehand. Great! So after shuffling a few things around I was able to secure an appointment the following day. But oh but the following day was not going to be easy or slow at all. 

Thursday saw us 48-hours out from our wedding day and so we started early. We had a lot to do. First on the agenda was travelling up to Peterborough, approx an hour and a bit journey to drop off all our passport information. We had an 8am appointment so it was an early start, earlier than we normally get up for work. But it had to be done and if we wanted that Honeymoon in the Caribbean then we needed to get them renewed. Short stop off at Momma Warehouse's in the Cambridgeshire countryside to drop off her dress for the wedding and then back to Bedford for Mr Warehouse's barber's appointment, a spot of shopping and some lunch. Picking up the cast iron post box on the way home and swapping cars I headed off for my newly arranged eyelash appointment. Whizzing home afterwards I had just about enough time to pack up the cars ready for setting up the hall the following day before popping across the road to a lady who tidied up my eyebrows. 

At 6pm we arrived at church ready for the rehearsal. I was shattered. Truth be told the eyelash lady said I had fallen asleep during my appointment several times so it looks like I won't be going back there again. I was flustered and flapping. It was now just over a day left and we still hadn't arranged or organised the live feed from the church for my American friends and Mr Warehouse's eldest brother and his family who were still self-isolating due to fucking COVID. Rehearsal over and done with I was excited and a lot clearer and happier with how things were going to roll. 

Waking Friday morning and making the bed, I realised the next time I crept into there I would be spending my last night sleeping as a Miss. We had still so much left to do. Balloons to fill with helium, flowers to pick up for the cake and my god a whole effing hall to decorate. The day was long and after having to cancel my massage appointment and pushing back my nail lady by an hour we were done. Standing outside the hall I was excited and nervous and a little scared all at the same time as I said farewell to my fiance. The last time I would ever call him that for the next time I saw him I would be at the top of our aisle with all of our friends and families around us. Waving out of the window of our cars, we split, driving in separate directions but within a few short hours we would be reunited, this time as Husband and Wife. To be continued ...

'Til next time, Love A.Lou x

Remember, if you would like to purchase anything then please feel free to check out my store at: https://www.etsy.com/uk/shop/Wooftys or visit our Instagram @WooftysDogTreats and use "TATOATS21" to get 10% off your first order over £15.00.

Cluck, Cluck!

Morning Everyone, 

After finishing a busy day at work there wasn't enough time to hang around and chat with colleagues at the end of the week. I was off. I had a Hen weekend to get to. With my bags already packed for night number two in Milton Keynes, complete with toothbrush, Jammies, and my HURR Collective rental, the Ivory SELKIE Puff Ball Dress, I was certainly glad of getting my hair done on my lunch break. Yes a bit bouji, but when I had to get home, changed, make-up done and over to Kempston, all within an hour. Safe to say even with my hair done and outfit ready for the first night out of the weekend I was pushed for time and didn't rock up until gone 6.20pm. What is going on? I have no effing idea. All I know is that it is going to be a weekend of debauchery and naughtiness, and maybe a few willie straws thrown in for good measure!

Friday evening was started with strongly poured drinks, pic's for the gram, and a good catch-up with my old work colleagues. Being handed a huge blow-up doll (with no appendage), a sash, and a veil I was super excited. Taxi booked we soon were taking the party to a posh restaurant within a four-star hotel in Bedford. Pen & Cob, is the Swan Hotel's on-site British Brasserie, offering freshly prepared dishes throughout the day. Serving breakfast, brunch, lunch, and dinner, the selection of seasonal dishes were superb with most of them locally sourced, where possible. 

On their website, they state "We make sure our dishes are sourced from suppliers which have superb reputations for producing the highest quality meats and products. Such as working closely with Stickleback fish suppliers in Welham Green to ensure Pen & Cob has the pick of the market as soon as the boats come in." Soon enough though we headed to a few bars for cocktails and some more chatting shit about life before hitting the dancefloor's to dance the night away. 

As midnight approached a few of the girls left, dropping off as the night went on. By the time I knew it I was stood in The Standard at like 2am and I had a Jagerbomb in my hand. I knew this was wrong. I knew I shouldn't have done it. If truth be told, I felt a little pressured into it as the tubby man in a waistcoat and pocket watch (Yes I know - He claimed he was a "music producer" but seemingly the only musicians he could produce from his Instagram were a bunch of old drunks trying to relive their youth, his words not mine?!). The moment it rolled over my lips and into my mouth I regretted my decision and my lack of firmness in refusing it. 

Within seconds I looked at my old work colleague and I think she knew. I made my excuses that I needed to "make a call" and desperately tried to contain myself as I could feel the German drink slipping further down my body. I knew I only had mere moments before this bad boy was visiting my mouth for the second time. Just as I pushed my way into the ladies' bathroom, some girls congratulated me on my Hen Do but I couldn't reply. My drink had arrived. Again. Stumbling into one of the stalls it came up entirely and instantly I felt better. 

An hour or so later with just the two of us girls still standing and the blow-up man waining we decided to call it a night, although unbeknownst to me we had already made it mostly the whole night as it was 3am and kicking out time for most places. Heading to where Mr. Warehouse normally picks me up, there he was,, my knight in a shining silver car. After dropping my friend off, the future Hubby drove me over to Milton Keynes where I met a sleepy Miss Hackney at the AirBnB we had booked for my Hen weekend. Falling into bed I was shattered and within hours I would be back at it again. 

Saturday was started with Melon and Mango and a freshen up under the waterfall/rain shower. With mostly Mr. Warehouse's family turning up around 1pm we played some games to get to know one another (maybe a little too well) before heading off to our first activity. Arriving at the school setting, I must say it didn't give off immediate hen party vibes. It was still chucking it down with rain as it had been all morning and after being told that it was an adults sports day organized I was concerned as none of us had come dressed for outdoor weather. We all laughed as we joked that we couldn't possibly be doing it out in that weather, that was until we realized that the poor Uni-Student wasn't laughing. He was deadly serious. 

Marching straight up to the reception Miss Hackney nearly unleashed all her Shoreditch-Shit on this bloke, demanding he either found us somewhere inside to do the games or refund us everything. Suddenly there was a dance studio free. We all piled in and just as we did the rain had knocked out the power, leaving us in a darkened room. But this didn't dampen our spirits as we chugged down our mini bottles of rose and donned sweatbands, twerking and limbo-ing our way through the afternoon before heading back to the apartment to get ready for the night-time fun!

Unbeknownst to me, we were due to be doing cocktail making and then a nice meal before heading off to the clubs of MK but after the cocktail making and meal had fallen through as the venue had an outbreak of COVID, Miss Hackney had a job of finding something to take its place. That is when she stumbled upon Bistro Live. With the entire night taken care of and all under one legendary roof, I can see why. After a tasty meal, our night was jam-packed with fun from 7pm all the way through to the early hours, all accompanied by the attentive team looking after our every need, there was no queuing at the bar for drinks and much more time to party! And because it is the world-famous Bistro Live we were even allowed to dance on tables and chairs, grinding and groaning the night away all in the knowledge that the thighs that hurt from the Adult P.E Session earlier were going to be even worse tomorrow morning.

Waking Sunday morning and checking out of the AirBnB was hard. Not because there was no life and we had tonnes of stuff. Not because Miss Hackney was absolutely hanging out her arse. Not because we had to tidy up the place from the night before. But because I knew it was over. That was it. My Hen Do. All done. Finished. Over. No More. I was sad. I think I have Hen-Do-Blues. Is that a thing? Well, at least I can say I had an incredible weekend and all thanks to some amazing friends who pulled through for me when others hadn't. I enjoyed every moment of it and drank so much I am surprised I could remember where I was let alone who I was getting married to. All in all a great weekend with great company. At least I can still say I can hack two nights out on the Trott, and if anything I could have probably even managed a third! Roll on the wedding!

'Til next time, Love A.Lou x

Remember, if you would like to purchase anything then please feel free to check out my store at: https://www.etsy.com/uk/shop/Wooftys or visit our Instagram @WooftysDogTreats and use "TATOATS21" to get 10% off your first order over £15.00.

The Creation of Fear Pong

Evening, 

Heading out for supplies I was not confident in the evening's frolics. Ever since I had any remotely valid social life I have wanted a Halloween Party. Something to rival Heidi Klum's or Jonathan Ross's. Something people would talk about for months after and anticipate from the sunshine haven of Summer. As the years pass it would go from mad house-party to a family event the school gates would buzz about from September right through until half term. My family's costumes would be infamous, like Neil Patrick Harris and Co. 

Alas though, the first year I have held one, I was a little miffed at the turnout, or so I thought. Having a bit of a dramatic meltdown (who me?!) to my fiance a few nights before, I confided in him that not many people were coming. I knew his brother and his family would come with the kids, I also knew my bestie, Miss Tweedle-Dee and Miss JoHo ould be in attendance along with Miss Tweedle-Dee's lil' bro and another friend. Miss Hackney would probably make an appearance hopefully and a couple from Mr. Warehouse's side of the family. But none of my work colleagues came, disappointingly, however not completely unexpected. 

Nevertheless, I felt much more in the "spirit" of things come that afternoon as we decked out the house in bats, cobwebs, Halloween bunting and more, some of which was all the way from the all hallowed place that is the Doller Tree (or at least I hope so as they look incredible) as Mr. and Mrs. Tweedle-Dumb indulged me for my birthday in sending back some schpoopy gifts that I could use at my party. Despite the distance, Mrs. Tweedle-Dumb would be a part of my first ever Halloween party. Now I know a lot of people go OTT with Halloween party decorations, I can see myself being one of them but this can be verging on tacky however my theory is that if you can't go hard on Halloween then you should go home as it is all about being over the top and ultimately spooky. Obviously with Halloween parties you can take two routes.. The first being the classic creepy, gore and blood route which is great for a festive, cliché type event - Something I would love to achieve in a classy event with posho cocktails and dry ice - something glamorous and stylish – definitely more of a treat than a trick.

Seven came and went, although I was anxiously awaiting the first guests. Dressed to impress I answered the door to our first guests, arm in arm with my little Frankenstein, complete with doggy dress up as a bat. Me? I was dressed in red, jet black wig and red veil, along with Mr. Warehouse in a black suit, green hair and purple sunken eyes, we were the Beetlejuice Bride and Groom - Betelgeuse and Lydia! Although this is maybe not one of our best ones, I certainly think it was a good going and certainly something I have wanted to do for a while. I had considered on a theme, say 80's slasher films or Hollywood's golden age, however, I felt as if this would put people off even moreso of a party where they have to dress up and make a bit more of an effort than normal. I mean of course I could do something like this in time, however Halloween is already so diverse, as long as your dead you can make it work but you know that there is always some lazybones that takes this as a way out and barely dress up at all!

Another thing I would have done if I was really hardcore about it and I wasn't using this as an excuse to drink at home would have been spooky food. Catering, I feel, can really make or break a party and give an excuse for people to chat and talk and mingle whilst snacking, especially to break up any awkward silences with the weird guy that has danced over for a chat. Themed food and DIY's are a great way of adding personal touches and a “center-piece cake” is an almost must, especially something like cupcakes as it’s something that can be given to kids and adults alike and is easy to eat whilst on the move around the room. Food dye and shape cutters are a godsend for amateur cooks such as myself and who normally screws their Pinterest creations up. 

As the night continued, the drink flowed and I most certainly was not counting the Slimming World Syns in the prosecco, or the gin, or the mini sausages I was stuffing down my throat. The highlight, among the many that were had to be teaching my future niece and nephew play "Fear"-pong, a spooked spin on Beer-Pong whereby my niece and nephew would do the pinging and the ponging bit, and the tag-teamed adult would do the drinking. Basically, the kids made us all bladdered. Yes - Definitely a highlight and probably one of the best ideas Mr. Warehouse had. Suffice to say that as a direct result of said drinking game, myself, Mr Warehouse and my other guests were perfectly pickled and come witching hour, I was gone. As the party wound down and the guests dwindled I found myself in my bathroom, looking after a friend of Miss JoHo's who had his head in the toilet bowl. Next thing I knew, I was pushing him out the way to get to the next biggest vessel for my own bile. 

By Midnight I was in bed, tucked up, listening to the rest of them get sorted out and heading to the land of nod too, and all thanks to Miss Tweedle-Dee and Mr Warehouse. I think that despite my reservations, and nearly cancelling at one point, I am glad I didn't, persevering and throwing what will be now known as the Halloween Party of the year!

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

Can you use the word "Dope" still at Twenty-Eight?

Heyy, 

Finally a night in for myself! Mr Warehouse dropped off at the pub and with my semi-healthy chicken salad kebab on stand-by I settled in for the night, feeding the hounds and getting comfy on the couch. It had been so long that I could barely contain my excitement when Mr Warehouse had said he was going to the pub and asked me for a lift. Gladly I dropped him off and anticipated an early-ish night. Mr Warehouse had joined Mr CWG for a night of laughs and lads banter at his old local in the next village over. But now I was home, as the night sky turned darker I had back to back Teen Mom UK, Teen Mom OG and all-new American Horror Story to catch up on. I was very much enjoying my overdue night in front of the box, well that was until I realised that a house is bigger than the old flat and after watching American Horror Story I promptly went around and locked all doors and windows, just in case you know ... 

Soon enough though I got a message. It was legible and spelt correctly so assumed that my future husband was totally fine and had not had too much sauce. However, as I pulled up outside the pub I was greeted by a rather sobered-up Mr CWG, however, Mr Warehouse, my darling sweet boy was absolutely sozzled. Bidding farewell and with promises of seeing each other within a few hours for my birthday party/get-together the following day, I proceeded to take Mr Warehouse home for a glass of water and a couple of paracetamol with a side order of bucket-by-the-bed. 

Pulling away I was met with screams as my burly bae decided that we were going to hit every car that was coming in the opposite direction. This was not the case and as I poodled down the at speed limit of thirty miles an hour, I was told that I was going "far too fast" and to "slow the fuck down". Nearly wetting myself with laughter I must admit I was barely able to keep my eyes open and on the road for how funny this all was. That was until, baring in mind that it was past midnight, I was overtaken by a motorcycle. 
"OOOH HARRY YOUR A WEEEZAAARD!" I heard Mr Warehouse exclaim in the actual worst Scottish accent I have ever heard. Unable to contain the laughter, it only egged him on as he carried on shouting and yelling that "yeeer a weeezaaard Harry! A weezard!" 

Squealing round every bend, twist and turn along the country roads, we finally arrived home, although not before me as the glorified taxi driver was groped and had to tell my gorgeous man off for fiddling with the radio and insisting that he played Heart FM, probably one of the worst things to listen to in the dead of night. Heading indoors we were greeted by the puppies and Mr Warehouse made a dash for the fridge, berating me that I had serviced myself in terms of getting a kebab and yet he was practically starving and wasting away! Hardly. 

Slamming a chicken burger into the microwave and heading to the toilet I thought that the special bucket (originally bought I think as we really tried with the whole adulting thing and planned to use it for washing up or cleaning however was now only reserved for really special nights out whereby someone has gone in a little too hard). Heading upstairs it was only a matter of moments before I was being preached too about the warnings of alcohol abuse and how Mr Warehouse "will never drink again", shortly followed by some long stints hanging out in our bathroom, blowing it from both ends the messy fuck. Least he had the special bowl with him for company as after asking if he was OK all alone in there I soon drifted off to sleep.  

The following morning I was yet again awoken to Frankenstein's borderline nauseating whining and crying and bitching! Oh ma gaad! When will this dog learn I will come down, eventually. I just wanted a fucking lay-in! Attending to him at a stark 6am, only a matter of hours after I fell asleep, leaving my betrothed on the bog with his head in a bucket of his own vomit. The house was far from party-ready and I was seriously reconsidering a cancellation, maybe faking illness or something just so I could lounge about all day in my PJ's and eat cake and binge on American Horror Story, this time in the daylight so the monsters don't seem so real. Returning Frankenstein to his cage and heading back to bed myself I knew it wouldn't be long before his whimpers and cries awake me once more. 

As morning broke, I greeted a very sore-headed bear downstairs and continued the war effort in order to get the place poppin' ready for some drinking and some partying. However, as 4pm rolled around, the start of the party, I realised by the number of cancellations that kept flooding through that there would only be a very select few that would actually turn up. I did, however, polish off nearly a whole bottle of Gin and shared a bottle (OK maybe shared was a strong word as it was barely half a glass) of prosecco with my Auntie, and many, many a Slimming World Syn in the sausage rolls and corn dogs - a feeble homage to my American bezzie Mrs Tweedle-Dumb who couldn't be here to share in this day a part of it!

The day itself went well and I enjoyed the company of all those bitches that could be arsed to turn up. I was spoilt too with pressies of wine and gin and Baileys Strawberries and Cream. From Miss Tweedle-Dee I received a stunning Morphe make-up Palette, along with a bottle of my fave perfume (Clean Rain if anyone is asking for Xmas!) and a super unique horror-film-inspired charm bracelet complete with Freddie, Jason and Chuckie encased in silver, and that was just to name a few. My lovely step-parents (Miss Tweedle-Dee's Mom and Dad) bought me a Pink Gin gift set, a Bathbomb advent calender and set of make-up brushes. Mr Warehouse spoilt me and showered me (literally) or maybe should I say bathed me in about ten different bath bombs, all from my fave store - LUSH, along with some HomeSense Schpoopy candles smelling like pumpkin shit and other fucking dope autumn smells (I'm twenty-eight can I use "dope" now?) and another stunning make-up palette, this time "Take me back to brazil" by BeautyBay. I was certainly spoilt and now am looking forward to counting down the last few days until I can finally say ... It's a year 'til my wedding day!

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

The Day Frankenstein Got His Stitches

Howdy Friends, 

And so the day had come. After a good few weeks of speculation and pondering over whether or not to get my baby castrated I had finally made the decisions and the day was here. As I bundled my little bundle of joy into the front passengers seat and sat my packed lunch on the floor next to him I looked into his deep black eyes as he wondered where the fuck I was taking him so early in the day. 

As we pulled off the drive way I couldn't help but think that our older pooch would be glad of the peace and quiet, a restful day for her no doubt. A thought crossed my mind as I drove out of the village that maybe my little fur-baby thought I was bringing him to work with me, another Momma and Pupper day out. No this was not the case I am afraid little one. We are off to the Vets to get you snipped. 

As I had queried before, ever since I knew I wanted a puppy I have always wanted a boy. I suppose as that is what most people revert back to with the whole "whose a good boy" thing, even with our female pooch. I had considered studding him out like some sort of doggo pimpess however on closer consideration I decided to protect his innocence and get him castrated. The surgical way of neutering a male meant that ultimately I would be preventing him from reproducing and since I had no real breeding or stud plan and would only really doing it ad-hoc and when we needed money on a cash-cow basis I thought it unfair to give him a taste and then to take it away from him, leaving him hungry for more with no real idea whether it ill be next month, next year or ever. 

Arriving at the Veterinary Practice in good time we needed a nit of a clean up operation in the car as there was a little pukey accident. Nevertheless we carried on and I attended his Pre-Op check over to confirm his vitals and that he was healthy to undergo the procedure. 
"Now dont expect any phone call before about 2pm, he probably will be sleepy until about then anyway from the anaesthesia" the Nurse said as I left my baby in her arms. 
Heading out the door of the clinic I rushed to work and made it there just in time. 

Worrying all morning I thought of the horror stories I had heard about it all going wrong and how my Aunties dog had nearly died as the Vet's didn't know he was allergic to anaesthetic. Just as I had thought what would happen if I lost my little Franker-doodles the phone rang. It was the Vets. It was also 11am - Much before the 2pm expected time of the call! Answering I must have sounded panicked as the lovely receptionist put my mind at easy and said he was out from theatre and that the surgery had been a success. After explaining how the rest of the day would go she hung up and I looked forward to being able to see my little floof later on, all in the knowledge that he was in the absolute best capable hands and being very well looked after with plenty of fuss and cuddles. 

Getting back to work it was less than twenty-minutes before I received another call. Again, I answered worried for what had happened in the mean time. 
"So everything is fine but .. " the receptionist began as she continued to tell me how much my pup hated being in the kennels. I explained (as if they didn't already know) that he has just woken up from major surgery where he is in a tiny cold cage and doesn't know anyone's faces that are coming to him. Of course he is going t be freaked out. The receptionist pushed further and asked if I could come and collect him as he just wasn't settling. After explaining that I worked over forty-minutes away in Bedford and that I couldn't collect him she pushed further and asked if there was any way I could collect him on my lunch break. Feeling like a cold-ass bitch I stated that I only have a half-hour lunch break and I could not make it to the practice and back in that time, nor that it would be practical as I would then have to drop him back home to be alone and by himself which simply wasn't fair. I explained that whilst I appreciated he was a bit noisy and needy and unsettled that I would try and leave work earlier but that it wasn't set in stone. 

Finishing at my normal time I hurried over to the Veterinary practice to pick up my little lump with no bumps. No sooner had I walked through the door and I heard him, crying in a back room somewhere. I wanted to just rush straight through, but I knew I couldn't. But if I thought that was annoying and grating I hadn't had the full force of the Franken-toad yet. Checking myself in I heard him silence as he listened for my voice. As soon as he had confirmed it was me there was no stopping the little fella. Howling and crying and barking and screaming and woofing and all the carrying on as if he was being murdered. 
"He is sooo cute ... " the nurses and the receptionist began. 
"But he has been doing this all day" they said with a slight grimace across their smiles. Embarrassed I hung my head and hoped no one else with all their well behaved pets would ask any questions. They did. And I had no choice but to own up. Yes that noisy little monster was mine. My Frankenstein. Bringing him out I think the staff were glad to see the back of me, and walking out I booked in our follow up Post-Op visit for a few days time. 

That evening we had a very sleepy puppy, and when he wasn't sleeping he was either staring off into space as he was so fucking high or bumbling around in a drunken like stooper. A bit of tea and an early night for him Mr Warehouse and I put our little Frankle-puff to bed and headed off ourselves. Since then he has been right as rain. Still fucking manic and non-stop, but I suppose that is what you get with a toy poodle cross jack russell. 

Even for Warehouse's surprise birthday party on Saturday I thought that he would have calmed down a bit but nope. Just chased his sister (Momma Warehouse bought his sister, a smooth coated version of him, almost Dachshund in appearance so they can still be in touch) round the garden and playing with the kids. I was able to steal away a moment for myself (after ushering Mr Warehouse out to the pub to watch footie and rushing around like a blue arse fly all morning trying to get everything ready) I stood by the back door, watching the pups play, in fact watching all our family and friends drink and chat, laughing away with each other. It was then that I realised that I was probably at the peak of happiness, at least since last year anyway. Oh what a difference a year makes - Engaged, Homeowner and has her own puppy. I mean all bar earning over £23k a year I have ticked off all my New Years Resolutions, well, that and slimming down to a size 14 as usual. 

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

The Night Of Lola The Showgirl!

Hello!

Another long week over and done with I was certainly more than happy that it was finally payday. It felt as though February had been a lot longer of a month than the payday between Christmas and the end of January. Maybe it was the fact that all of my money was ploughed into a savings account ISA in order to desperately try and save for a house in order to move out before Christmas this year. This, coupled with the fact that my weight has now started to slow down after losing so much over Christmas and New Year despite all the personal training sessions and gym visits has all in all left me feeling slightly deflated. With no holiday to look forward to this year and very little planned in the calendar I was certainly struggling with my motivation for losing weight and saving for my first home!

Deciding that I was not going to spend another month not going out and being a complete antisocial recluse, I organised a works night out. Following the works Christmas party and how much fun it was, not to mention just how messy it ended up, I was certain that a good old-fashioned night out to paint the town red! On sending the email out to my colleague I eagerly awaited their response. But nothing came, only a few replies on how some people were not able to make it. There were a few suggestions that involved team activities that were not alcohol related but on trying to obtain numbers no one seemed to care. So it seemed up until last minute it was just me and a couple of the girls going out for a quiet drink and maybe a dance. 

Heading for some pre-drinks round one of the girls house's, gossipping away about music and the likes, trying to decided on what pair of shoes goes with what dress and whether anyone can see our VPL - Visible Panty Line. Frosty air nipping at our legs we were finally in a pub keeping warm and refreshed with some Prosecco or two. Later on the music started to pump and in between scrolling though social media and nattering over the tunes there would be a Selfie or two. Unfortunately none of us out saw the arrogant twat walking towards us like some sort of Andy Warhol. Dressed in an overly tight top that saw the blood supply cut off to his exterior limbs, he waltzed over to our table and failing to introduce himself like a true gent (or to be honest anyone with any ounce of dignity or respect) and practically snatched my Smart phone out of my hand in order to "help" us clearly failing and weak women take a Selfie. 

Five minutes he was still there and despite our efforts to move him along politely we had given up and lost our patience with him and his poxy photography skills fast. Insulting him as only women know how to by emasculating the little toe-rag he eventually got the picture and pissed off, leaving my phone back in my safe hands and with a dozen or so badly taken and blurred images of three women on the Razz. 

Carrying on throughout the night we were joined by some other work colleagues whom were also on a night out with some of their friends, joining together in a drunken stupor I felt like the fifth wheel in all of this. Not wanting to interrupt anyone's conversation and boring of looking at my phone I went off in search of some company. Male was my choice preferably as they were normally more friendly and usually happy to see anyone of the female variety taking an interest, even a Hepher like me! Or so I thought. The first lad I made conversation with was tall with light brown curly hair in what the kids on the street call a "Meet Me At McDonalds" Haircut. Wearing a dusty blue grey jumper and being typically British I mentioned how cold it was and we struck up a chat which eventually lead to him asking for my number. Before I even had a chance to turn around and run back to my friends or tell him I had a boyfriend I was thrust a phone and asked to put in my number. When I handed it back and said I had done it, I was promptly told that this was not true as Mr. Meet-Me-At-McDonalds-Haircut had been watching me the whole time and I had not given my number. "Persistent I'll give him that" I thought as I typed a random number into my phone and saved it under 'Lola' - And yes she was a showgirl! 

Heading off from one public house to the next I found myself in the wallet-sucking auction room and whilst its nice atmosphere, relatively good music and nice cocktails are always welcome in my books, the price you pay for a dribble of Blossom Hill White Zinfandel (my fave) you could walk up the road to the corner shop and buy a whole bottle and still have change. Separated from my work buds I made some new ones with a guy who was sat alone and looking melancholy. Striking up conversation in probably the most intoxicated way possible whereby I thrust my hand out and introduced myself. The gentleman obliged and we got chatting, later on his friends joined and I got talking to some more guys and they asked if I was single. "Wow two lots of guys in one night?! Surely this cant be happening? They must all have that 'Shallow Hal' thing going on!" I pondered. Laughing it off I found my friends and I danced the rest of the night away without many cares in the world apart from having a good time. 

I never knew that I would have been so popular with the lads. I mean granted I did make the first move in terms of walking over for a chat and introducing myself in a proper way as opposed to our All-Muscle-No-Brains "Photographer" earlier in the evening. Being the size I am (UK Size 18/20) I would have thought that men would have turned the other way, ignored me or worse made a joke but in actual fact I think they were just pleased for the attention and the fact that someone was maybe interested in talking to them for a change and not them having to do all the chasing, not that that was what I was after. I kinda feel sorry for lads sometimes as they are damned if they do and damned if they don't in many a moral dilemma, especially when it comes to dating and anything concerned with the opposite sex. 

Now I know some people may criticise me and ask why I did all those things on Friday night when I had a perfectly good-to-me boyfriend sat at home. The thing is that I did not intend to go out with the intention of pulling, cheating or handing out myself like sweeties. I have respect for myself regardless of when I am in or out of a relationship. I know how to conduct myself and am confident in the situations I put myself in. If I wanted to cheat I could and would have done it months if not years ago. But I didn't and don't. Why? Because Mr. Warehouse and I have a strong relationship which means he can go out, chat with other girls, dance with other girls and even mildly flirt with them if he so wishes just as I can and did on Friday night, but the difference between us and other couples is that we trust each other and that each night one or both of us goes out on the piss, we know we're coming home to something much, much more special, meaningful and precious than some twenty-something in "Da Club"!

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx