Hi There,
Since last week surviving the life or death scenario of the London Underground (and an evening with friends), slowly but surely I have been taken over by a headache-infusing, runny-nose-bringing, achey-skin-feeling winter bug! I suppose I could say that in a way Miss Tweedle-Dumb and her Boyfriend of many, many moons did bring me back a present from Rome - A Cold! In a way you could say that I my body has been invaded by a foreign object (of influenza)!
And so - I am ill! Just what I need before our annual works Christmas Party whereby we all get absolutely sloshed on overpriced wine, watch the boss dance some very odd Elvis inspired moves and end up having a row with your other half in the middle of the street in the town centre after he turned from Gorgeous Gent to Grumpy Granddad in under 2.4 seconds. Ahh yes the annual 'Do! Something everyone looks forward to and hardly anyone really remembers past the first round of Jager Bombs at 6.30pm, just before the starters arrive.
Last year's Blog post was entitled "The Argument That Was Not An Argument!" and was, and still is, one of my most popular reads. If you haven't already I urge you to read along as there are a few choice phrases and interesting pieces that make me realise that even a year on I love my cuddly grumpy cat!
But what men, including Mr. Warehouse and the other Mister's that came before him, did not seem to grasp is how much I personally and together with all women kind, enjoy getting ready for such a social occasion. The hair, the make-up, the outfit, the shoes, the bag, the schedule, the conversation starters!? Its like going on multiple first dates, only with your work colleagues AKA people you have spent more time with than your own parents! Its stressful.
Now first of all the dress, what I deem to be one of the most important dresses you will all year. Apart from maybe if you got married. Or Graduated. Or something else important like walking for Chanel or Prada. But anyway, I digress. Last year I wore a just-above-the-knee, muted Grey Lipsy dress with thin straps and skater style skirt. I loved it to pieces and had many a compliment on the night however, I feel as though now I need to up my game a little this year. It was sparkle and sequins galore and I am still on the hunt (with yes, less than four days to go) for a dress that is as equally, if not more sequiny and glitzy and shiny as last year. 2014 was the year of the twinkle. 2015 however will be the year of possibly the very-deep-V-neck, bra-less number. 2016? Not so sure yet although with upcoming New Year Resolutions coming about I may well have to set myself the unmanageable goal of slipping into a size 12 for next years Office Christmas Party which will unfortunately end on the fourth of January when I rediscover the leftover box of Celebrations left under my desk from Christmas Eve.
Next is the hair and make-up. You don't want something too complicated as by the end of the night it will be all falling out of place and probably have more than a few cocktail sticks hanging out, especially if my workplace has anything to do with it?! Yes, simple, yet elegant. Soft curls are always a good start and for make-up; Wide faux eyelash-ed eyes with a classic red lip always works a treat. But always remember the key is making yourself look better that you do when you are just plain old Margaret from Finance sitting at your desk but not to make yourself look like you just walked out of the Crayola Factory and been to have your hair cut by Edward Scissorhands.
Now yes I understand that there are some females that will find this time of year horrendous as wearing make-up and dresses in the force to look pretty and girlie is totally not them, and I get it. Trust me when I say that I am sitting here right now in my Cookie Monster Dressing Gown and not much else, sipping on Baileys and enjoying the fact I am still wearing my UGG boots from work, feeling sorry for myself as I am sick with a cold. There is nothing more I love more than curling up and watching some trash TV ideally with a pet of some kind and pigging out on junk food and take-away's. But I cannot deny that I do love a party. And The Office Christmas Party is no exception ...
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Showing posts with label Plan. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Plan. Show all posts
Monday, 14 December 2015
Tuesday, 6 August 2013
Sister's Before Mister's
Heyy Guys,
And yet another roller coaster of a week draws to a close. And yet after all that, I have been able to bounce back faster than you could say 'windscreen'. I have a new job. Again. But not just that. If you look as to where this was written you can see that it was signed, sealed and delivered from my new bachelorette pad. I am so happy that it has finally got to this point and have been so busy unpacking and sorting everything out that I nearly forgot to write. Allow me to explain my week ...
So after being a bit down in the dumps about having to quit my last job just purely on the distance I thought that my dream of finally moving in was slipping through my fingers again. Then late Wednesday afternoon I went into some local recruitment agencies and spoke to them, only to walk out of one of their offices having landed a customer service role at a windscreen replacement company just outside of Bedford town centre. Now granted it is only a temporary contract for a couple of months and so is nothing permanent by a long shot, but there is always the chance they could take me on permanently. Hopefully they will so I can stop searching for job's as it is driving me crazy just looking at pages and pages of jobs that have probably been advertised for weeks and have possibly already been filled. If not then there is always something on offer. And I do have a habit of bouncing back fast ... As I am sure you are well aware!
As for my new flat well that was a bit of a surprise. Since my Dad and his girlfriend are too hung up on their own lives and personal hobbies to help me move out (despite wanting me to move out since last year and not wholly loving the fact I was living with them in the first place) I decided to get my Uncle to help move me. And so on Saturday (the only date my Uncle could do to move me) we bundled up all my belongings in his work's van and headed to my new home! Packing and unpacking was a mission and a half though, and I don't think many people will be visiting often due to the fact it has no lifts and I'm on the third floor up four flights of stairs. I like it though. It's cosy and once I get everything sorted out properly then it will be perfect!
No word of warning on the old 'Luuurve' front yet, but I have continued online dating and am enjoying the attention from prospective males; even if they are fat, balding and are sitting at a computer having a lonely handshake with ones self. OK, well maybe not that extreme, but I love the idea that I could one day be talking to someone that will play an extra special part in my life. I haven't met any yet. Although I do plan to have a date with a very nice young man whom enjoys the company of quirky girls who enjoy laughing and chatting about nonsense but also have a fondness for dairy products, cheese included. We both seem to have hit it off pretty well and I enjoy talking to him so much so that we have arranged a 'Date' for this coming Sunday! Eeek! Scary date! I mean it's not like I am terrified of the idea. Its just scary meeting someone that theoretically you know a little of and that you have spoken online to, but it is another to meet in person and spend time together outside of cyberspace. I think that maybe this is just first-timer's nerves (Naughty!), what with being the first time I have met someone from an online dating site in the flesh - It's bound to be nerve shredding. I wonder what I shall wear? Hmmm ...
In other news, I have a big weekend planned. Along with my date on Sunday with the guy I met online, I am celebrating moving in with my good pal Miss Chocolate on Friday night and then following that up with something special for Saturday's twilight hours. I have heard that this Saturday, there will be a new show in the city of London. Starring yours truly. Ha ha. The dating show I was on a couple of months ago are having the Wrap Party in the bright lights of London. Cinderella shall go to the ball - Along with her trusty partner in crime; Miss Tweedle-Dumb!
I am looking forward to it and I know it's going to be a fun night out. Bit worried though, the last time I went on a night out with Miss Tweedle-Dumb, I met a boy whom we all know as that prick. Mr Workaholic! Then again, it might not all be bad. Miss Tweedle-Dumb could be my lucky charm in finding love. I could meet a sweetheart from across the bar and we would fall in love instantly with each other. He would worship me as a fat kid worships cake and we would get married and have babies and live happily ever after. Or I could be the last hope in hell of that sweaty nerd getting laid, lurking over there in the corner of a dark, smokey club at three in the morning like a weirdo. Yep, that is probably the story of Saturday night for you. Either that or the usual happens where Miss Tweedle-Dee and myself are dropped to our hotel by a cab and end up eating chicken until we pass out from alcohol. Still Miss Tweedle-Dee is not that bad. She can be very, very funny sometimes. Both her and Miss Tweedle-Dee can be very entertaining sometimes. Besides whats that saying. Sister's before Mister's ...
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
And yet another roller coaster of a week draws to a close. And yet after all that, I have been able to bounce back faster than you could say 'windscreen'. I have a new job. Again. But not just that. If you look as to where this was written you can see that it was signed, sealed and delivered from my new bachelorette pad. I am so happy that it has finally got to this point and have been so busy unpacking and sorting everything out that I nearly forgot to write. Allow me to explain my week ...
So after being a bit down in the dumps about having to quit my last job just purely on the distance I thought that my dream of finally moving in was slipping through my fingers again. Then late Wednesday afternoon I went into some local recruitment agencies and spoke to them, only to walk out of one of their offices having landed a customer service role at a windscreen replacement company just outside of Bedford town centre. Now granted it is only a temporary contract for a couple of months and so is nothing permanent by a long shot, but there is always the chance they could take me on permanently. Hopefully they will so I can stop searching for job's as it is driving me crazy just looking at pages and pages of jobs that have probably been advertised for weeks and have possibly already been filled. If not then there is always something on offer. And I do have a habit of bouncing back fast ... As I am sure you are well aware!
As for my new flat well that was a bit of a surprise. Since my Dad and his girlfriend are too hung up on their own lives and personal hobbies to help me move out (despite wanting me to move out since last year and not wholly loving the fact I was living with them in the first place) I decided to get my Uncle to help move me. And so on Saturday (the only date my Uncle could do to move me) we bundled up all my belongings in his work's van and headed to my new home! Packing and unpacking was a mission and a half though, and I don't think many people will be visiting often due to the fact it has no lifts and I'm on the third floor up four flights of stairs. I like it though. It's cosy and once I get everything sorted out properly then it will be perfect!
No word of warning on the old 'Luuurve' front yet, but I have continued online dating and am enjoying the attention from prospective males; even if they are fat, balding and are sitting at a computer having a lonely handshake with ones self. OK, well maybe not that extreme, but I love the idea that I could one day be talking to someone that will play an extra special part in my life. I haven't met any yet. Although I do plan to have a date with a very nice young man whom enjoys the company of quirky girls who enjoy laughing and chatting about nonsense but also have a fondness for dairy products, cheese included. We both seem to have hit it off pretty well and I enjoy talking to him so much so that we have arranged a 'Date' for this coming Sunday! Eeek! Scary date! I mean it's not like I am terrified of the idea. Its just scary meeting someone that theoretically you know a little of and that you have spoken online to, but it is another to meet in person and spend time together outside of cyberspace. I think that maybe this is just first-timer's nerves (Naughty!), what with being the first time I have met someone from an online dating site in the flesh - It's bound to be nerve shredding. I wonder what I shall wear? Hmmm ...
In other news, I have a big weekend planned. Along with my date on Sunday with the guy I met online, I am celebrating moving in with my good pal Miss Chocolate on Friday night and then following that up with something special for Saturday's twilight hours. I have heard that this Saturday, there will be a new show in the city of London. Starring yours truly. Ha ha. The dating show I was on a couple of months ago are having the Wrap Party in the bright lights of London. Cinderella shall go to the ball - Along with her trusty partner in crime; Miss Tweedle-Dumb!
I am looking forward to it and I know it's going to be a fun night out. Bit worried though, the last time I went on a night out with Miss Tweedle-Dumb, I met a boy whom we all know as that prick. Mr Workaholic! Then again, it might not all be bad. Miss Tweedle-Dumb could be my lucky charm in finding love. I could meet a sweetheart from across the bar and we would fall in love instantly with each other. He would worship me as a fat kid worships cake and we would get married and have babies and live happily ever after. Or I could be the last hope in hell of that sweaty nerd getting laid, lurking over there in the corner of a dark, smokey club at three in the morning like a weirdo. Yep, that is probably the story of Saturday night for you. Either that or the usual happens where Miss Tweedle-Dee and myself are dropped to our hotel by a cab and end up eating chicken until we pass out from alcohol. Still Miss Tweedle-Dee is not that bad. She can be very, very funny sometimes. Both her and Miss Tweedle-Dee can be very entertaining sometimes. Besides whats that saying. Sister's before Mister's ...
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Tuesday, 2 April 2013
I Love Bank Holiday's!
Hello,
Happy Easter everyone! I hope you all had a good bank holiday - if you get one that is. Here in the UK we got a four day weekend stretching from Friday to Monday. And after the way I ended the last edition I should probably explain what I actually got up to. Well for the most part the weather held out, and by that I mean it didn't rain. It did snow several times, the most inconvenient was when I was walking from the station to my cousin's birthday party. Note to self: Walking across a muddy field with sheepskin boots on and trying to look sexy in front of footballers is not a good look when you have the arctic flying into you at forty-miles an hour. But aside from the weather everything else went swimmingly. Apart from a minor dispute however with Miss Chocolate which I shall not go into as I would get so angry you could fry an egg on my face. It has not yet been fully resolved I think but things like this will need time to grow again. Fingers crossed we'll be OK soon though, I need someone who wont disapprove of my Harlequin ways when were out. I had a free house to myself the weekend as Ma and Pa went away for a dirty weekend in a Caravan. 'If the caravan's rocking, don't come knocking' is there cringe moto - I don't think there is anything less sexually appealing than thinking that people over the age of 45 ''do-it'' *Sick face and vomit noise*
Thursday night after work I had Miss Tweedle-Dumb and Miss Tweedle-Dee come round and we vegged out watching telly and eating pizza. After Miss Tweedle-Dumb had left to visit her boyfriend, Miss Tweedle-Dee and I decided to hit the sack. That was until we realised we couldn't lock the front door as I had misplaced my house keys somewhere in the lounge. I knew they were there as I had let myself and the girls in and after locking the door behind us, put them down somewhere. We had been looking constantly for several hours now and in the small hours of Friday morning I called it a night, pushed all the furniture back to its rightful place and wedged a coffee table behind the front door. This did not however stop Miss Tweedle-Dee from making up tales of how we would be raped and shot in the night by intruders to which I brushed off despite thinking the very same thing the previous night when the door had been locked and my Father in the room adjacent. Morning broke through the window as we both squinted at one another. lying in bed together with morning breath and hair all over the place like an old married couple. I investigated downstairs and promptly returned to infirm my bed-partner that there was no intruders in the night and if there were then they were very sneaky to get out again putting everything back right as I left it. Once up and dressed we started to plan our day when Miss Tweedle-Dumb called with some spooky news. "I have found your keys" she says excitedly but nervously holding back more information. After probing she continued. "They were in the back of my car, neatly placed on the floor behind where you were sitting" she said. Gobsmacked I started to well up with joy and horror. Who could have put them there? We didn't go back into the car once we were in the house? Did the invisible elderly lady who lives with me do it as she has done with many other things before? We may never know.
Later on we left for some shopping near London with Miss Tweedle-Dumb and some other friends of ours. As usual the day ended with lunch in our favourite pub, gossipping over men and other idiosyncrasies as well as our ghostly encounter the previous night. Throughout Saturday morning before I went out to spend the day with family, I rearranged the house to accommodate my friends who were coming to mine for pre-drinks before Saturdays big 80's V 90's headphone-disco night out. The table was laid out with a roulette shot's game, a game of naughty charades was nearby. Alcohol, mixers and chocolate was covering the counters in the kitchen. An airbed had been arranged (but not blown up due to the lack of batteries I had working) and make-up, hair and dressing stations had been assigned in the lounge. Everyone was due to arrive at 7pm. Well, 7pm came and went, so did 7.30pm and 8pm. Finally at quarter-to-nine they arrived. Miss Tweedle-Dumb's car had broken down and there was issues trying to find parts to fix it. Regardless they were here and we started to get ready, dance, drink and play games. Lets just say you don't know your friends until you play a round or two of 'never have I ever' with them.
Calling a cab to town we darted around looking for money, phone and most of all keys! Jumping in the cab I think I was the only one to carry on drinking and also to strike up conversation with the fellow that was driving us towards a night of madness and mayhem. Once inside the alternative-club the headphones went on and the inhibitions came off. I spent the night howling away to cheesy pop classics from our childhood and dancing the moves that matched them. At one point I found myself "lost" and coincidentally made friends with a very nice chap who showed me how he dances - with his tongue. As in kissing - nothing else, god, I'm not that much of a floozy! Then before I knew it, somehow I was on the floor in a heap with my arms and legs flailing around like an upside down beetle looking for help. Thankfully this young man whose face was somewhat blurred by the amount of alcohol I had exceeded picked me up and just continued where he left off. I must have got bored as I just left and went to go and find the others without even saying goodbye. Rude I know - but I'm blaming it on the alcohol. That night we all returned home where apparently there was an argument over ordering a take-away of which I was in the middle of completely KO on the lounge floor. I woke the following morning on the flattened airbed on my bedroom floor after being kicked from my drunken slumber by Miss Tweedle-Dumb as she made her way to the bathroom.
Sunday I spent mostly recovering form a hangover that I had didn't anticipate. I never get hangovers. Why was Sunday the day to start?! Fully-recovered Monday was spent in my home-town wondering around boutiques and being chatted up by weirdo-couple's trying to stroke me. Strangely though, after the weekend that I have had I have not made any pounces on the male variety and for once in a very, very long time I am not lusting or longing for anyone. I suppose this is what its like to be single then, but hopefully not forever. Out on the prowl soon I hope.
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Happy Easter everyone! I hope you all had a good bank holiday - if you get one that is. Here in the UK we got a four day weekend stretching from Friday to Monday. And after the way I ended the last edition I should probably explain what I actually got up to. Well for the most part the weather held out, and by that I mean it didn't rain. It did snow several times, the most inconvenient was when I was walking from the station to my cousin's birthday party. Note to self: Walking across a muddy field with sheepskin boots on and trying to look sexy in front of footballers is not a good look when you have the arctic flying into you at forty-miles an hour. But aside from the weather everything else went swimmingly. Apart from a minor dispute however with Miss Chocolate which I shall not go into as I would get so angry you could fry an egg on my face. It has not yet been fully resolved I think but things like this will need time to grow again. Fingers crossed we'll be OK soon though, I need someone who wont disapprove of my Harlequin ways when were out. I had a free house to myself the weekend as Ma and Pa went away for a dirty weekend in a Caravan. 'If the caravan's rocking, don't come knocking' is there cringe moto - I don't think there is anything less sexually appealing than thinking that people over the age of 45 ''do-it'' *Sick face and vomit noise*
Thursday night after work I had Miss Tweedle-Dumb and Miss Tweedle-Dee come round and we vegged out watching telly and eating pizza. After Miss Tweedle-Dumb had left to visit her boyfriend, Miss Tweedle-Dee and I decided to hit the sack. That was until we realised we couldn't lock the front door as I had misplaced my house keys somewhere in the lounge. I knew they were there as I had let myself and the girls in and after locking the door behind us, put them down somewhere. We had been looking constantly for several hours now and in the small hours of Friday morning I called it a night, pushed all the furniture back to its rightful place and wedged a coffee table behind the front door. This did not however stop Miss Tweedle-Dee from making up tales of how we would be raped and shot in the night by intruders to which I brushed off despite thinking the very same thing the previous night when the door had been locked and my Father in the room adjacent. Morning broke through the window as we both squinted at one another. lying in bed together with morning breath and hair all over the place like an old married couple. I investigated downstairs and promptly returned to infirm my bed-partner that there was no intruders in the night and if there were then they were very sneaky to get out again putting everything back right as I left it. Once up and dressed we started to plan our day when Miss Tweedle-Dumb called with some spooky news. "I have found your keys" she says excitedly but nervously holding back more information. After probing she continued. "They were in the back of my car, neatly placed on the floor behind where you were sitting" she said. Gobsmacked I started to well up with joy and horror. Who could have put them there? We didn't go back into the car once we were in the house? Did the invisible elderly lady who lives with me do it as she has done with many other things before? We may never know.
Later on we left for some shopping near London with Miss Tweedle-Dumb and some other friends of ours. As usual the day ended with lunch in our favourite pub, gossipping over men and other idiosyncrasies as well as our ghostly encounter the previous night. Throughout Saturday morning before I went out to spend the day with family, I rearranged the house to accommodate my friends who were coming to mine for pre-drinks before Saturdays big 80's V 90's headphone-disco night out. The table was laid out with a roulette shot's game, a game of naughty charades was nearby. Alcohol, mixers and chocolate was covering the counters in the kitchen. An airbed had been arranged (but not blown up due to the lack of batteries I had working) and make-up, hair and dressing stations had been assigned in the lounge. Everyone was due to arrive at 7pm. Well, 7pm came and went, so did 7.30pm and 8pm. Finally at quarter-to-nine they arrived. Miss Tweedle-Dumb's car had broken down and there was issues trying to find parts to fix it. Regardless they were here and we started to get ready, dance, drink and play games. Lets just say you don't know your friends until you play a round or two of 'never have I ever' with them.
Calling a cab to town we darted around looking for money, phone and most of all keys! Jumping in the cab I think I was the only one to carry on drinking and also to strike up conversation with the fellow that was driving us towards a night of madness and mayhem. Once inside the alternative-club the headphones went on and the inhibitions came off. I spent the night howling away to cheesy pop classics from our childhood and dancing the moves that matched them. At one point I found myself "lost" and coincidentally made friends with a very nice chap who showed me how he dances - with his tongue. As in kissing - nothing else, god, I'm not that much of a floozy! Then before I knew it, somehow I was on the floor in a heap with my arms and legs flailing around like an upside down beetle looking for help. Thankfully this young man whose face was somewhat blurred by the amount of alcohol I had exceeded picked me up and just continued where he left off. I must have got bored as I just left and went to go and find the others without even saying goodbye. Rude I know - but I'm blaming it on the alcohol. That night we all returned home where apparently there was an argument over ordering a take-away of which I was in the middle of completely KO on the lounge floor. I woke the following morning on the flattened airbed on my bedroom floor after being kicked from my drunken slumber by Miss Tweedle-Dumb as she made her way to the bathroom.
Sunday I spent mostly recovering form a hangover that I had didn't anticipate. I never get hangovers. Why was Sunday the day to start?! Fully-recovered Monday was spent in my home-town wondering around boutiques and being chatted up by weirdo-couple's trying to stroke me. Strangely though, after the weekend that I have had I have not made any pounces on the male variety and for once in a very, very long time I am not lusting or longing for anyone. I suppose this is what its like to be single then, but hopefully not forever. Out on the prowl soon I hope.
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Tuesday, 26 March 2013
A Lucky Escape ...
Evening,
Well, what a week this has been. Here in the UK we have been experiencing some extreme weather conditions, of which have blown of several of my plans! I am very angry at this. It seems that us Brits can't seem to deal with a few drops of the white stuff - I'm on about snow; Filthy!. I mean a single helping of it is enough to bring this country to its knees - OK, now I am playing with you.
So this weekend was meant to be mine and Miss Chocolate's romantic mini break away to North-Wales-ish. Wrong. The snow had better plans. And so all our plans for a naked skinny-dipping spa, eating fast food in the bathroom and heading to the shops just to buy an outfit that we would return after our rowdy night out have now all gone to shit because of the bad weather up North. Granted, we have changed the dates, but I don't know whether I can get the day off from work and this is causing some ruffled feathers in the love nest of Miss Chocolat a la Moi. Regardless I am sure that we will be the best of friends soon as we have an impending weekend of havoc to create as the bunny ears are out and we are ready to party like its Easter 2013! I also have an 80's V 90's night to attend with Miss Chocolate, Miss Tweedle-Dee, Miss Tweedle-Dee and some other well known faces. So this weekend should be a blast if the bloody snow holds off. It'll give me something interesting to tell of next week.
And after last weeks drama surrounding Mr. Coffee I am glad to say that this chapter is now closed and I shall no longer be obsessing, fantasising or thinking of the so-called 'rocker', although I use that term very loosely. In a desperate attempt to gain his attention I did attempt to text Mr. Coffee several times throughout the week, even a phone-call or two, inviting him over for dinner and drinks, but all to no avail. So after logging into Facebook and seeing that he was online I struck up a conversation knowing that he wouldn't be in a talkative mood. Pop! Suddenly to my surprise Mr. Coffee answered back and we started small talk. I asked how college was and he said he was enjoying it especially since there were drama's erupting and romances blossoming. This got me thinking. "Does that mean that your trying to pursue someone then?" I typed, cautious of what the answer might be. He replied with Maybe. I sat there, stunned. A small part of me thought 'Knock, Knock, Oh Hey! You know it might be you that he's talking about?' Knowing that this wasn't the case but still hoping that it was I asked another question, "Was that the case last week?" but silence soon followed. I asked again and this time Mr. Coffee replied. "Sort of - Its complicated, but she wasn't there no" was the weak response that he attempted to fool me with. I hesitated to believe him. Then a surge of energy as the ice melted his hands and they flowed freely across his keyboard telling me how I somehow put him on the spot last week. Not True. And how its all really complicated right now. Calm and collected I started my own scat along my laptop keypad. How dare he! "Whats going on between us?" I asked burning up with a simmering mixture of embarrassment and anger. Again more silence. Again I asked. "I don't think there is anything between us, dude. I just don't think we're right for each other." - Quote and verbatim. I mean who says 'dude' now-days anyway. I'm sorry I didn't realise you were Axel Rose? Humiliation swallowed me up making me feel like a fool in the way of relationships yet again. But at least I know - I'm glad that it took more than eight weeks to get sorted! Seems like it may be a blessing in disguise as the self-proclaimed womaniser moves onto his next piece of meat. *High-Pitch-Gay-Man-Voice* "Uhh, yeah I'm not a Hump-'em-and-dump-'em kinda guy". Yeah ... Much!
Mr. Mot has also made several appearances this week, lending his ear and sharing life as well as yet again asking me to spend some 'quality' time with him. The latest one, is me nursing him back to health and tending to his every need. Every. Need. But as it would happen I don't have any qualifications to nurse anyone back to health and impersonating a figure of authority within the public sector is an arresting offence. Even so I am sure Mr. Mot wouldn't say not to handcuffing me and having his wicked way with a naughty convict.
So here's hoping the weather holds out for me this weekend and stays nice so I can get my claws into a new obsession! Out on the prowl again ...
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Well, what a week this has been. Here in the UK we have been experiencing some extreme weather conditions, of which have blown of several of my plans! I am very angry at this. It seems that us Brits can't seem to deal with a few drops of the white stuff - I'm on about snow; Filthy!. I mean a single helping of it is enough to bring this country to its knees - OK, now I am playing with you.
So this weekend was meant to be mine and Miss Chocolate's romantic mini break away to North-Wales-ish. Wrong. The snow had better plans. And so all our plans for a naked skinny-dipping spa, eating fast food in the bathroom and heading to the shops just to buy an outfit that we would return after our rowdy night out have now all gone to shit because of the bad weather up North. Granted, we have changed the dates, but I don't know whether I can get the day off from work and this is causing some ruffled feathers in the love nest of Miss Chocolat a la Moi. Regardless I am sure that we will be the best of friends soon as we have an impending weekend of havoc to create as the bunny ears are out and we are ready to party like its Easter 2013! I also have an 80's V 90's night to attend with Miss Chocolate, Miss Tweedle-Dee, Miss Tweedle-Dee and some other well known faces. So this weekend should be a blast if the bloody snow holds off. It'll give me something interesting to tell of next week.
And after last weeks drama surrounding Mr. Coffee I am glad to say that this chapter is now closed and I shall no longer be obsessing, fantasising or thinking of the so-called 'rocker', although I use that term very loosely. In a desperate attempt to gain his attention I did attempt to text Mr. Coffee several times throughout the week, even a phone-call or two, inviting him over for dinner and drinks, but all to no avail. So after logging into Facebook and seeing that he was online I struck up a conversation knowing that he wouldn't be in a talkative mood. Pop! Suddenly to my surprise Mr. Coffee answered back and we started small talk. I asked how college was and he said he was enjoying it especially since there were drama's erupting and romances blossoming. This got me thinking. "Does that mean that your trying to pursue someone then?" I typed, cautious of what the answer might be. He replied with Maybe. I sat there, stunned. A small part of me thought 'Knock, Knock, Oh Hey! You know it might be you that he's talking about?' Knowing that this wasn't the case but still hoping that it was I asked another question, "Was that the case last week?" but silence soon followed. I asked again and this time Mr. Coffee replied. "Sort of - Its complicated, but she wasn't there no" was the weak response that he attempted to fool me with. I hesitated to believe him. Then a surge of energy as the ice melted his hands and they flowed freely across his keyboard telling me how I somehow put him on the spot last week. Not True. And how its all really complicated right now. Calm and collected I started my own scat along my laptop keypad. How dare he! "Whats going on between us?" I asked burning up with a simmering mixture of embarrassment and anger. Again more silence. Again I asked. "I don't think there is anything between us, dude. I just don't think we're right for each other." - Quote and verbatim. I mean who says 'dude' now-days anyway. I'm sorry I didn't realise you were Axel Rose? Humiliation swallowed me up making me feel like a fool in the way of relationships yet again. But at least I know - I'm glad that it took more than eight weeks to get sorted! Seems like it may be a blessing in disguise as the self-proclaimed womaniser moves onto his next piece of meat. *High-Pitch-Gay-Man-Voice* "Uhh, yeah I'm not a Hump-'em-and-dump-'em kinda guy". Yeah ... Much!
Mr. Mot has also made several appearances this week, lending his ear and sharing life as well as yet again asking me to spend some 'quality' time with him. The latest one, is me nursing him back to health and tending to his every need. Every. Need. But as it would happen I don't have any qualifications to nurse anyone back to health and impersonating a figure of authority within the public sector is an arresting offence. Even so I am sure Mr. Mot wouldn't say not to handcuffing me and having his wicked way with a naughty convict.
So here's hoping the weather holds out for me this weekend and stays nice so I can get my claws into a new obsession! Out on the prowl again ...
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Tuesday, 19 March 2013
Teenage Kicks
Hello,
Now as I explained in my last post, I had been invited somewhere important. At the time I couldn't divulge much more as other attendees are avid followers and would have foiled my plan. So, a few weeks ago I got talking to an old school friend of mine who also happens to be in a band with and close friend of Mr. Coffee's - I know, I know; Just bear with me on this one. So after we had done away with small talk I started discussing booking him and the band for a charity fundraiser event I am planning on hosting in the coming months. He agreed and I said that I would get back to him with some of the details. Anyway, I heard nothing from him until I had a social-networking invitation to an event where by his band was playing ... along with none other than Mr. Coffee himself. In a flap I immediately messaged Miss Chocolate, knowing that she would probably not give me a lecture about 'going back to old flames' as much as Miss Tweedle-Dee and Miss Tweedle-Dumb would. And so a plan was conceived that Miss Chocolate and I would go on a bar crawl for St. Patricks Day, which would just happen to end up at the same location as the gig and at precisely the right time. All week, cunningly planning and plotting what to wear and how to have my hair, thinking up a good alibi and what to say. Now this would not have been such a big deal had it not bee for the earlier incident of bailing on me, (See post 'Time to Say I Told You So ... ') but regardless as the week flew by yet again, Saturday night loomed ever closer.
After waking up at sparrow's fart to go shopping with Papa and spending all day pampering myself into oblivion I was finally ready. Strangely Papa dropped me to the station and was concerned about how I was getting home, who I was going out with and all the other things a parent worries about. I do love him sometimes, but on this occasion I think he knew I was up to something and was just digging around for the scoop! As I sat on the train gulping down Orange Juice and Vodka it took me back to my teens and reminded me that there has never really been a point in life where I haven't been obsessed or fixated with something or someone, usually multiples of different things at the same time. And Saturday night was no different. Although, reading this back in my head does make me look a tad infatuated and preoccupied by Mr. Coffee and his participation in the evening. I'm not. To clarify, I am merely interested in pursuing him further. I would, after my resent encounters with Mr. Coffee, like to confront the coward and ask him what the hell he was playing at and how he feels about me. Well I got my chance didn't I ...
After arriving in town and heading pretty much straight to pub in which Mr. Coffee and his band were playing, Miss Chocolate and I settled into the bar stools to have a drink. However, Miss Chocolate is more of the clubbing and pubbing type, not usually accustomed to loud rock music in a small, stuffy pub. Regardless of those factors she embraced it with every bit of muster the girl had and towards the end of the session, I even caught her singing along and dancing with the best of us. I am proud to say that I broke her gig-virginity! As we were sitting at the bar having a chat, I was tapped on the shoulder by another old school friend who just happens to also be Mr. Coffee's best friend and fellow band-mate. I introduced him to Miss Chocolate and asked why he was hear, fully knowing the answer before I even asked it. He explained that he was here with 'the band' and that they were scheduled for 9pm. After a few tid-bits of small talk he left. Miss Chocolate and I mooched around for a bit, having a cigarette, complaining about the wet and 'inappropriate' rain before my shoulder was yet again disturbed by an important person. Mr. Coffee! So it seems that after bumping into most of his band-mates, a few mutual friends and his step-dad, Mr. Coffee had came over to say hello. But I had more for him than hello! I was fully ready to turn around and give him a big piece of my mind, but as I turned to greet him all hope of controlling the hormonal teenager in me dried up. Deep brown eyes, dark floppy hair and a smile that I needed my RayBan's for. Even better looking that I remembered I tried to compose myself and we started the standard conversation. My alibi worked a treat but there was still an elephant in the room to confront.
"Why didn't you turn up?" I asked as Mr. Coffee's face went cold and fearful. He knew what he was in for. "I'm so sorry. I was scared and panicked. I just thought that you wanted something more than I was willing to offer you. I really am so sorry. You must think I am a dick?" was his reply. I was fuming, yet still on cloud nine. Odd feeling that - Wanting to throw your drink on someone but knowing that if you do your just going to add to their sexual-appeal. Mr. Coffee shuffled from foot to foot for a while just repeating himself over and over, apologising constantly. I had told him in the past that I didn't want anything serious like the last train wreck of a relationship, but just wanted some fun and to share the coming summer with and I felt that I needed to reassure him of this again. The conversation of a NSA relationship came into the chat's limelight only to be stamped on by his band being called up. "Will you stay?" Mr. Coffee asked, pleading me to stay. "You know I have always wanted you to see me play with the guys." I turned to Miss Chocolate and her face said it all. I had to compose myself and become hard and cold - Show him whose boss and that I am still upset with him. "Mmm, I don't know, my friend wants to head on to a nightclub now so I don't know, I might." I replied as my legs resumed from their jelly-like state. After accepting this, Mr. Coffee turned to walk away, tail between legs.
As Mr. Coffee began to play I took a prime position in the already large crowd and for the next half hour I was propelled back to being fifteen again, admiring a band I knew well, shaking my hair and singing to what words I knew. I concentrated hard as I watched Mr. Coffee's eyes frantically search the crowd for my face, not knowing weather I stayed to watch or not. After a few songs I caught his eye and Mr. Coffee sent me a wink which nearly killed me. I felt like I was in the front row at a Elvis Concert. If I wasn't ready to blow before - I sure as hell was now! Annoyingly though there was a young Polish man standing behind me and throughout the whole set he was trying to kiss me and talk to me. I just smiled as I couldn't fully understanding a word he was saying, given the noise and language barrier. Looking back now my intoxicated state he looked like a blonde lab rat and, and as I couldn't hear him I just continued to smile which only seemed to cement in his head that I was his for the evening. At one point I think he even asked "If I buy drink for you, you come home with me, yes?" and in a flap I promptly pointed to the tall, dark and handsome musician onstage and said that I was dating Mr. Coffee. Instantly his hands flew up in the air and he apologised, however, knowing that Mr. Coffee was already struggling to see me, I decided to play and flirted with the foreigner, hoping that Mr. Coffee would see and sweep me off my feet, saving me from this manic stranger.
Once the band stopped playing I got ready to leave, but not before Miss Chocolate had something to do with it. As Mr. Coffee stepped off stage I was pushed forward into his arms. After I had composed myself and stepped out of his bubble the flood gates opened and I gushed about how much I enjoyed his performance. We stood around for ages nattering before I got the eye from Miss Chocolate, indicating that it was time to leave. I explained to Mr. Coffee that I have to go and asked him several times to come along to the nightclub and continue the party, but lack of finances gave that idea the boot. Reluctantly I bid farewell and turned to leave. But then I remembered a task I had been asked to do earlier on in the evening by my drinking buddy. I turned back to the hot musician. "My friend says that were not leaving until we kiss and make up" I said boldly to which Mr. Coffee replied with some lame excuse that he would never be able to live it down in front of his friends and step-dad who were just on the table next to us. As I pulled away from a hug our eyes met, earthy brown matched with sea green. But just as I was about to turn and leave Mr. Coffee pulled me in close for a quick kiss on the lips. Sneaky, cheeky and throwing all inhibitions to the wind! I loved it. Following a swap in numbers I skipped out of the pub with his lips still burning on mine.
So where are we now. Well after gaining advise from the all power love-goddess that is Miss Chocolate I am being told to play it cool and text him mid-week which is tomorrow, so I shall keep you all posted on this as it unravels but I'm not hold my breath, especially after last time! But it wasn't just me who got lucky on Saturday night, Oh no! The luck of the Irish stuck Miss Chocolate when she met up with a guy she had met online. Safe to say that his profile picture was probably Catfished from a search engine!
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Now as I explained in my last post, I had been invited somewhere important. At the time I couldn't divulge much more as other attendees are avid followers and would have foiled my plan. So, a few weeks ago I got talking to an old school friend of mine who also happens to be in a band with and close friend of Mr. Coffee's - I know, I know; Just bear with me on this one. So after we had done away with small talk I started discussing booking him and the band for a charity fundraiser event I am planning on hosting in the coming months. He agreed and I said that I would get back to him with some of the details. Anyway, I heard nothing from him until I had a social-networking invitation to an event where by his band was playing ... along with none other than Mr. Coffee himself. In a flap I immediately messaged Miss Chocolate, knowing that she would probably not give me a lecture about 'going back to old flames' as much as Miss Tweedle-Dee and Miss Tweedle-Dumb would. And so a plan was conceived that Miss Chocolate and I would go on a bar crawl for St. Patricks Day, which would just happen to end up at the same location as the gig and at precisely the right time. All week, cunningly planning and plotting what to wear and how to have my hair, thinking up a good alibi and what to say. Now this would not have been such a big deal had it not bee for the earlier incident of bailing on me, (See post 'Time to Say I Told You So ... ') but regardless as the week flew by yet again, Saturday night loomed ever closer.
After waking up at sparrow's fart to go shopping with Papa and spending all day pampering myself into oblivion I was finally ready. Strangely Papa dropped me to the station and was concerned about how I was getting home, who I was going out with and all the other things a parent worries about. I do love him sometimes, but on this occasion I think he knew I was up to something and was just digging around for the scoop! As I sat on the train gulping down Orange Juice and Vodka it took me back to my teens and reminded me that there has never really been a point in life where I haven't been obsessed or fixated with something or someone, usually multiples of different things at the same time. And Saturday night was no different. Although, reading this back in my head does make me look a tad infatuated and preoccupied by Mr. Coffee and his participation in the evening. I'm not. To clarify, I am merely interested in pursuing him further. I would, after my resent encounters with Mr. Coffee, like to confront the coward and ask him what the hell he was playing at and how he feels about me. Well I got my chance didn't I ...
After arriving in town and heading pretty much straight to pub in which Mr. Coffee and his band were playing, Miss Chocolate and I settled into the bar stools to have a drink. However, Miss Chocolate is more of the clubbing and pubbing type, not usually accustomed to loud rock music in a small, stuffy pub. Regardless of those factors she embraced it with every bit of muster the girl had and towards the end of the session, I even caught her singing along and dancing with the best of us. I am proud to say that I broke her gig-virginity! As we were sitting at the bar having a chat, I was tapped on the shoulder by another old school friend who just happens to also be Mr. Coffee's best friend and fellow band-mate. I introduced him to Miss Chocolate and asked why he was hear, fully knowing the answer before I even asked it. He explained that he was here with 'the band' and that they were scheduled for 9pm. After a few tid-bits of small talk he left. Miss Chocolate and I mooched around for a bit, having a cigarette, complaining about the wet and 'inappropriate' rain before my shoulder was yet again disturbed by an important person. Mr. Coffee! So it seems that after bumping into most of his band-mates, a few mutual friends and his step-dad, Mr. Coffee had came over to say hello. But I had more for him than hello! I was fully ready to turn around and give him a big piece of my mind, but as I turned to greet him all hope of controlling the hormonal teenager in me dried up. Deep brown eyes, dark floppy hair and a smile that I needed my RayBan's for. Even better looking that I remembered I tried to compose myself and we started the standard conversation. My alibi worked a treat but there was still an elephant in the room to confront.
"Why didn't you turn up?" I asked as Mr. Coffee's face went cold and fearful. He knew what he was in for. "I'm so sorry. I was scared and panicked. I just thought that you wanted something more than I was willing to offer you. I really am so sorry. You must think I am a dick?" was his reply. I was fuming, yet still on cloud nine. Odd feeling that - Wanting to throw your drink on someone but knowing that if you do your just going to add to their sexual-appeal. Mr. Coffee shuffled from foot to foot for a while just repeating himself over and over, apologising constantly. I had told him in the past that I didn't want anything serious like the last train wreck of a relationship, but just wanted some fun and to share the coming summer with and I felt that I needed to reassure him of this again. The conversation of a NSA relationship came into the chat's limelight only to be stamped on by his band being called up. "Will you stay?" Mr. Coffee asked, pleading me to stay. "You know I have always wanted you to see me play with the guys." I turned to Miss Chocolate and her face said it all. I had to compose myself and become hard and cold - Show him whose boss and that I am still upset with him. "Mmm, I don't know, my friend wants to head on to a nightclub now so I don't know, I might." I replied as my legs resumed from their jelly-like state. After accepting this, Mr. Coffee turned to walk away, tail between legs.
As Mr. Coffee began to play I took a prime position in the already large crowd and for the next half hour I was propelled back to being fifteen again, admiring a band I knew well, shaking my hair and singing to what words I knew. I concentrated hard as I watched Mr. Coffee's eyes frantically search the crowd for my face, not knowing weather I stayed to watch or not. After a few songs I caught his eye and Mr. Coffee sent me a wink which nearly killed me. I felt like I was in the front row at a Elvis Concert. If I wasn't ready to blow before - I sure as hell was now! Annoyingly though there was a young Polish man standing behind me and throughout the whole set he was trying to kiss me and talk to me. I just smiled as I couldn't fully understanding a word he was saying, given the noise and language barrier. Looking back now my intoxicated state he looked like a blonde lab rat and, and as I couldn't hear him I just continued to smile which only seemed to cement in his head that I was his for the evening. At one point I think he even asked "If I buy drink for you, you come home with me, yes?" and in a flap I promptly pointed to the tall, dark and handsome musician onstage and said that I was dating Mr. Coffee. Instantly his hands flew up in the air and he apologised, however, knowing that Mr. Coffee was already struggling to see me, I decided to play and flirted with the foreigner, hoping that Mr. Coffee would see and sweep me off my feet, saving me from this manic stranger.
Once the band stopped playing I got ready to leave, but not before Miss Chocolate had something to do with it. As Mr. Coffee stepped off stage I was pushed forward into his arms. After I had composed myself and stepped out of his bubble the flood gates opened and I gushed about how much I enjoyed his performance. We stood around for ages nattering before I got the eye from Miss Chocolate, indicating that it was time to leave. I explained to Mr. Coffee that I have to go and asked him several times to come along to the nightclub and continue the party, but lack of finances gave that idea the boot. Reluctantly I bid farewell and turned to leave. But then I remembered a task I had been asked to do earlier on in the evening by my drinking buddy. I turned back to the hot musician. "My friend says that were not leaving until we kiss and make up" I said boldly to which Mr. Coffee replied with some lame excuse that he would never be able to live it down in front of his friends and step-dad who were just on the table next to us. As I pulled away from a hug our eyes met, earthy brown matched with sea green. But just as I was about to turn and leave Mr. Coffee pulled me in close for a quick kiss on the lips. Sneaky, cheeky and throwing all inhibitions to the wind! I loved it. Following a swap in numbers I skipped out of the pub with his lips still burning on mine.
So where are we now. Well after gaining advise from the all power love-goddess that is Miss Chocolate I am being told to play it cool and text him mid-week which is tomorrow, so I shall keep you all posted on this as it unravels but I'm not hold my breath, especially after last time! But it wasn't just me who got lucky on Saturday night, Oh no! The luck of the Irish stuck Miss Chocolate when she met up with a guy she had met online. Safe to say that his profile picture was probably Catfished from a search engine!
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Tuesday, 19 February 2013
Time to Say I Told You So ...
Hello again,
So last week was the week of the 'prowl' and can you believe that Mr. Waistcoat had a fair run with communicating. It has since however dried up, but to be honest I'm not all that bothered. And especially after the weekend I have had I really feel like becoming Asexual ... If I was ever good! I should probably explain my weekend, that might help a little.
Last week as I was finishing my last entry (A Night of Waistcoats, Free Drinks and Disappointment) I got talking to Mr. Coffee. We spoke for a while and turned into the longest conversation I have had with him in what seemed like ages. As us British do, we conversed over small talk and each others daily lives but I soon steered it in a direction I had wanted for a while. After he asked what I was doing and I replied with "finishing off the blog" came an awkward silence. It was followed by him confessing that he was an avid reader. Oops! I hadn't thought I had been that unsavoury really, given the truth and situations. regardless he promptly answered my question by saying that yes he was offended and upset by what I had written earlier and that this was a contributing factor to why he was not talking to me like we used to. the word 'Unfulfilling' came to mind and I suddenly realised that maybe I wasn't as savoury as i had once thought. But as explained it was the truth and sometimes it hurts. I had apologised and we planned a catch-up for that coming Saturday.
Friday night came and I had heard nothing from Mr. Coffee, until I logged into my Facebook page and up he popped for a chat. We confirmed the place and time we were to meet and I finally thought that this could be a start-a-fresh for us as friends and maybe something more in the future. I decided to call this a 'Make-or Break Date' in which I would really assess why I was so infatuated with Mr. Coffee. I never told him this but I was thinking that maybe after some time apart I would be able to see if there was even a fizzle between us that meant more. Unfortunately we never got to that meeting ...
One of the last things Mr. Coffee and I spoke of was his request for me to call him at 10.30am to wake him from a lazy slumber. I agreed and we departed for bed. Upon waking myself Saturday morning I went around my usual weekend duties until 10.30am came and I rang Mr. Coffee as asked. it rang - and rang - and rang - and rang again some more. no response at all. I left it for a bit not wanting to accept what my head was telling me. I called again several times before I gave up trying. Lets just conclude that I was stood up by Mr. Coffee, who I was meant to be spending the afternoon on a 'Make-or Break Date'. I think its safe to say that it was a lucky break rather than make.
It is now Tuesday and more than four days have passed by since being stood up. Still no phone call or message apologising or explaining. I had tried to justify why he hadn't turned up but came to the realisation that even your Nan dying you would still at least drop me a text to let me know. Maybe not the gentleman Mr. Coffee had made out to be? Although, as I have said, maybe it was a blessing in disguise? I say this as I met up with Miss Tweedle-Dee and Miss Tweedle-Dumb tonight and as it just so happens Miss Tweedle-Dee had some juicy gossip for us all that I shall now share with you all. So turns out that Miss Tweedle-Dee's brothers, girlfriend (You still keeping up?) has been told that one of her close college friends is getting close to Mr. Coffee and that he has been trying to worm his way in. This has been going on for several weeks which would co-inside with the fact that he has not been talking to me for just as long. Funny that eh?
Regardless of all this I have been busy planning more nights out full of mayhem and mischief with Miss Chocolate as well as a mini break weekend with Miss Tweedle-Dee and Miss Tweedle-Dumb for some well earned men-free shopping. Cannot wait!
All this talk of a women only is making me very happy and ready for Summer 2013 more than ever! Bring it on!
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
So last week was the week of the 'prowl' and can you believe that Mr. Waistcoat had a fair run with communicating. It has since however dried up, but to be honest I'm not all that bothered. And especially after the weekend I have had I really feel like becoming Asexual ... If I was ever good! I should probably explain my weekend, that might help a little.
Last week as I was finishing my last entry (A Night of Waistcoats, Free Drinks and Disappointment) I got talking to Mr. Coffee. We spoke for a while and turned into the longest conversation I have had with him in what seemed like ages. As us British do, we conversed over small talk and each others daily lives but I soon steered it in a direction I had wanted for a while. After he asked what I was doing and I replied with "finishing off the blog" came an awkward silence. It was followed by him confessing that he was an avid reader. Oops! I hadn't thought I had been that unsavoury really, given the truth and situations. regardless he promptly answered my question by saying that yes he was offended and upset by what I had written earlier and that this was a contributing factor to why he was not talking to me like we used to. the word 'Unfulfilling' came to mind and I suddenly realised that maybe I wasn't as savoury as i had once thought. But as explained it was the truth and sometimes it hurts. I had apologised and we planned a catch-up for that coming Saturday.
Friday night came and I had heard nothing from Mr. Coffee, until I logged into my Facebook page and up he popped for a chat. We confirmed the place and time we were to meet and I finally thought that this could be a start-a-fresh for us as friends and maybe something more in the future. I decided to call this a 'Make-or Break Date' in which I would really assess why I was so infatuated with Mr. Coffee. I never told him this but I was thinking that maybe after some time apart I would be able to see if there was even a fizzle between us that meant more. Unfortunately we never got to that meeting ...
One of the last things Mr. Coffee and I spoke of was his request for me to call him at 10.30am to wake him from a lazy slumber. I agreed and we departed for bed. Upon waking myself Saturday morning I went around my usual weekend duties until 10.30am came and I rang Mr. Coffee as asked. it rang - and rang - and rang - and rang again some more. no response at all. I left it for a bit not wanting to accept what my head was telling me. I called again several times before I gave up trying. Lets just conclude that I was stood up by Mr. Coffee, who I was meant to be spending the afternoon on a 'Make-or Break Date'. I think its safe to say that it was a lucky break rather than make.
It is now Tuesday and more than four days have passed by since being stood up. Still no phone call or message apologising or explaining. I had tried to justify why he hadn't turned up but came to the realisation that even your Nan dying you would still at least drop me a text to let me know. Maybe not the gentleman Mr. Coffee had made out to be? Although, as I have said, maybe it was a blessing in disguise? I say this as I met up with Miss Tweedle-Dee and Miss Tweedle-Dumb tonight and as it just so happens Miss Tweedle-Dee had some juicy gossip for us all that I shall now share with you all. So turns out that Miss Tweedle-Dee's brothers, girlfriend (You still keeping up?) has been told that one of her close college friends is getting close to Mr. Coffee and that he has been trying to worm his way in. This has been going on for several weeks which would co-inside with the fact that he has not been talking to me for just as long. Funny that eh?
Regardless of all this I have been busy planning more nights out full of mayhem and mischief with Miss Chocolate as well as a mini break weekend with Miss Tweedle-Dee and Miss Tweedle-Dumb for some well earned men-free shopping. Cannot wait!
All this talk of a women only is making me very happy and ready for Summer 2013 more than ever! Bring it on!
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Tuesday, 5 February 2013
Its Time I Told of The Proposal
Hello again,
And so I return on this wintry Tuesday evening to dish the dirt on my past week in 'paradise'. This week has been somewhat of an eye opener to you all who read my blog every week and your opinions on it all. Several people outside and nearly everyone inside my tight knit friend circle have commented saying on how funny and laughable my life is as well as interesting and 'a good read' I think someone also mentioned. So thanks everyone, I really appreciate it.
Someone who I have yet to mention so far is Mr. Mot. Now, the thing is that Mr. Mot and I go back a very long time, as far back as sixth form. We met through my Boyfriend of the time, a rugby playing hunk with a sweet heart and a lot of love to share. Boyfriend at the time didn't like Mr. Mot and neither has any Boyfriend since. Mr. Mot however is my agony aunt. He listens and is sympathetic whilst harsh and tells me what to do; which is helpful for a girl who cant make up her mind sometimes. However there is always some tension there. Even from the very beginning. Harmless flirty messages, games and jokes all lead somewhere I suppose. No smoke without fire? Even if me and Mr. Mot were to try and make a go, we never seem to find the right time as one of us is always in a relationship, not that this makes the difference for him and his straying ways. I must point out however that this will never happen as he's just not my type, although we have agreed if we reach our 30's and still haven't met anyone, we would make beautiful children. A proposal was made some weeks ago, maybe months even, concerning an 'arrangment' should be drawn up in the hope to satisfy both of our very frustrating and somewhat blipped sex-lives after I had explained that I never performed for myself as such and wasn't getting any male attention and so as a result was becoming very frustrated and needed a 'release'. Mr. Mot agreed and said that whilst he was settled into a relationship the sex was not as often as he would have liked and wanted more, specifically from me. As Mr. Mot is in a somewhat serious, long-distance relationship I see that there is obvious outcomes to what might happen if the shit hit the fan, which in these cases is a 'when' rather than an 'if'. I am persuaded by the naughtiness of it all and the secretiveness that it brings, however as Miss Chocolate put it "How would you feel if the boot was on the other foot?" And shes right. I have been cheated on and been a cheater, although it was only a kiss and a fumble I am still not proud to admit it. Miss Chocolate would have a lot of experience in this department dare I say. Filthy devil you!
Somehow though last night it dawned on me that in actual fact I don't want Mr. Mot regardless of how big his Bavarian sausage is or how he could easily satisfy me in bed. I want someone who will love me and cherish me. Make me there princess but also a little of something darker - if you follow my drift! But then the thoughts start to head back round in the same circle as they have been for weeks. And yet again Mr. Coffee is topic of conversation. I know that at this point, after not talking for so long I should just give up trying, but for some odd reason I cant. Call it obsession or just plain dog with a bone (pardon the ironic pun ladies and gents) but I just cant seem to get him out of my head. o matter what I do he just wont get out of my damn brain! The more I silently scream "Go away your not wanted here because you are not cooperating with my plans to get with you!" the more Mr. Coffee sits back and looks teasingly tempting. I have laid one last ditch attempt to apologise for my swift direction of feeling and plan on hatching this plot around that sickening time of year we Brits call St. Valentines Day. To be brutally honest I'm looking more forward to the pancake day that is, this year, 48 hours prior. Even me typing is making me think of the way we kissed passionately in the rain as he lured me seductively back t his warm embrace ... Anyway!
After getting paid last Friday and slogging my guts out behind a bar at a local football club where I was helping Miss Tweedle-Dee, I planned on having a girly night out with Miss Chocolate however that fell through and is now organised for this coming weekend, so lock up your sons! Watch out men of Bedfordshire were coming to get you ...
'Til next time, Love A.Lou :) xx
And so I return on this wintry Tuesday evening to dish the dirt on my past week in 'paradise'. This week has been somewhat of an eye opener to you all who read my blog every week and your opinions on it all. Several people outside and nearly everyone inside my tight knit friend circle have commented saying on how funny and laughable my life is as well as interesting and 'a good read' I think someone also mentioned. So thanks everyone, I really appreciate it.
Someone who I have yet to mention so far is Mr. Mot. Now, the thing is that Mr. Mot and I go back a very long time, as far back as sixth form. We met through my Boyfriend of the time, a rugby playing hunk with a sweet heart and a lot of love to share. Boyfriend at the time didn't like Mr. Mot and neither has any Boyfriend since. Mr. Mot however is my agony aunt. He listens and is sympathetic whilst harsh and tells me what to do; which is helpful for a girl who cant make up her mind sometimes. However there is always some tension there. Even from the very beginning. Harmless flirty messages, games and jokes all lead somewhere I suppose. No smoke without fire? Even if me and Mr. Mot were to try and make a go, we never seem to find the right time as one of us is always in a relationship, not that this makes the difference for him and his straying ways. I must point out however that this will never happen as he's just not my type, although we have agreed if we reach our 30's and still haven't met anyone, we would make beautiful children. A proposal was made some weeks ago, maybe months even, concerning an 'arrangment' should be drawn up in the hope to satisfy both of our very frustrating and somewhat blipped sex-lives after I had explained that I never performed for myself as such and wasn't getting any male attention and so as a result was becoming very frustrated and needed a 'release'. Mr. Mot agreed and said that whilst he was settled into a relationship the sex was not as often as he would have liked and wanted more, specifically from me. As Mr. Mot is in a somewhat serious, long-distance relationship I see that there is obvious outcomes to what might happen if the shit hit the fan, which in these cases is a 'when' rather than an 'if'. I am persuaded by the naughtiness of it all and the secretiveness that it brings, however as Miss Chocolate put it "How would you feel if the boot was on the other foot?" And shes right. I have been cheated on and been a cheater, although it was only a kiss and a fumble I am still not proud to admit it. Miss Chocolate would have a lot of experience in this department dare I say. Filthy devil you!
Somehow though last night it dawned on me that in actual fact I don't want Mr. Mot regardless of how big his Bavarian sausage is or how he could easily satisfy me in bed. I want someone who will love me and cherish me. Make me there princess but also a little of something darker - if you follow my drift! But then the thoughts start to head back round in the same circle as they have been for weeks. And yet again Mr. Coffee is topic of conversation. I know that at this point, after not talking for so long I should just give up trying, but for some odd reason I cant. Call it obsession or just plain dog with a bone (pardon the ironic pun ladies and gents) but I just cant seem to get him out of my head. o matter what I do he just wont get out of my damn brain! The more I silently scream "Go away your not wanted here because you are not cooperating with my plans to get with you!" the more Mr. Coffee sits back and looks teasingly tempting. I have laid one last ditch attempt to apologise for my swift direction of feeling and plan on hatching this plot around that sickening time of year we Brits call St. Valentines Day. To be brutally honest I'm looking more forward to the pancake day that is, this year, 48 hours prior. Even me typing is making me think of the way we kissed passionately in the rain as he lured me seductively back t his warm embrace ... Anyway!
After getting paid last Friday and slogging my guts out behind a bar at a local football club where I was helping Miss Tweedle-Dee, I planned on having a girly night out with Miss Chocolate however that fell through and is now organised for this coming weekend, so lock up your sons! Watch out men of Bedfordshire were coming to get you ...
'Til next time, Love A.Lou :) xx
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)