Difficult Roads Often Lead To Beautiful Destinations

Suup, 

I never thought that I would have festival blues like I did at Reading Festival back in 2014, oh boy do I have a big come down from the glitter and frolics of a festival atmosphere. Truth be told I didn't think that I would have enjoyed myself or looked forward to the Bedford River Festival as much as I did. Maybe it was the drib's and drabs of family and friends throughout the weekends festivities that made it as good as it was, or maybe it was just simply down to the fact that I felt much better than I have done in the last few months. I suppose that the reality is that next time the Bedford River Festival comes around we will be living in our new home and who knows what life might be like then. although I am sure that there will still be a place for some glitter and denim shorts to enjoy the drumming music, incredible smelling food and host of activities and things to do and see. 

With the last few months being a bit of a whirlwind in terms of emotions and life events, I decided a couple of weeks ago that I would book a few days off at the end of the month after payday in order to have a little bit of me time for rest and recuperation. Suggested by several of my friends including Miss Hackney and Miss Sugarcoat who I have met up with a few times over the last couple of weeks, I think a few days to relax and take time for myself will be beneficial and can only do me some good. I have a few things planned such as some nice lye-in's and watching telly. On Wednesday I will be getting my hair done which maybe doesn't seem like such a big deal but for me a relaxing afternoon in the hairdressers chair is just what I need. Maybe afterwards I might take a trip over to one of the retail outlets a few miles out of town in order for some retail therapy and a treat or two.

Thursday's plans will consist of going to my usual counselling sessions and therapy, however this week will be the first of the NHS Treatments. In the afternoon I also have a doctor's appointment in order to discuss my ongoing medication and going forward with my diagnosis. Whilst the medicine I am on has finally stopped making me feel queasy and nauseous, I haven't stopped taking them as I know that this is something I need to continue in order to build up it's effect, regardless of how I feel much better and more back to normal. I know that coupled with counselling and therapy I will get better it will just maybe take a little bit longer. 

Friday is what I am really looking forward to as I will be accompanying Mr Warehouse to a spa in London. Courtesy in part to Nanny Pumpkin's Christmas present to Mr Warehouse and I we will be enjoying a gorgeous fruit platter as well as some relaxing treatments. I think just simply having some time just for us will be nice as I think life just takes over and before you know it it has been weeks since you have spent time with each other. 

I know after spending Sunday afternoon in the sunshine with two of my favourite people, Nanny Pumpkin and Mr Warehouse, I realise the heartbreaking reality that whilst my Grandma is doing her own thing and thoroughly enjoying life skipping off here, there and everywhere, I know in reality by the amount of times my grandfather was mentioned that she does miss him. Listening to Miss Hackney and Miss Sugarcoat their own grandparents and how their lives have been affected since one of them had passed away made me want to spend time, and quality time at that with Mr Warehouse whilst we have the chance to do so before mortgages and family life takes over. 

This is a happy time where we should be excited about finally getting a home of our own and looking forward to putting our own stamp on the place, although I think Mr Warehouse would agree with me when we both say that life has not been the easiest for us at the moment. It has been a poisonous melting pot of complicated issues including my mental health, Mr. Warehouse's skin condition and his own health worries all mixed together with a good helping of work issues and family problems, sprinkled with the stress of buying a house and preparing to move home. When the Devil on my shoulder tells me that it is going to be very expensive and makes me question as to whether Mr Warehouse and I can afford it, I must remember all of the other times that I thought or wondered how I would ever afford what I wanted in life. I am sure that I will look back a year from now and wonder as to what exactly I spent my money on. 

It terrifies me to think that I will have to depend on someone else both financially and in the general upkeep and running of the house in Mr Warehouse. To say that things have been tense or highly strung has been a understatement and I would say Mr Warehouse and I have argued more than we have ever in the last few months than we ever have in the last three and a half years we have been dating. But for all the snippy comments or playful bickering that happens between us I cannot fault Mr Warehouse for his support and love over the last few months, holding me up high when I was down in my lowest points and making me feel so loved and wanted it's unreal. I don't think that there is literally anything that his arms couldn't cuddle away and I know that whatever life throws at us I will be able to deal with it just as long as I have him by my side, wiping away the tears and making things better for as long as we have ... 

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

Glitter Makes Everything Better (Unless Its Gary)

Heyy everyone, 

Donning some glitter and denim shorts I was looking forward to the hotly anticipated Bedford River Festival this weekend and with the music drumming, food smelling incredible and host of friendly and familiar faces along the way, this weekends antics have certainly put a smile on my face. Following what has been a very difficult and stressful few months for me, I honestly feel the best that I think I have felt in a very long time. Now whether this is because my work life is a lot better or maybe it's the medication for my depression that has kicked in, I am just glad to say that life seems to be getting brighter again. I suppose when I really try and put my finger on it, my improvement in mood comes down to the fact that nothing major has really happened to improved it apart from my medication. 

Whilst the medicine I am on has finally stopped making me feel queasy and nauseous (something that only ever seem to happen in the morning before lunch which made me paranoid that I may be pregnant) I know it would be silly for me to simply stop taking them all together as I know that this is something I need to continue in order to build up it's effect, coupled with counselling and therapy of course. I just needed something - anything- to take the edge off and make it all seem a little less sharper. I have sometimes questioned as to whether I am suffering a placebo effect from just simply popping some pills every morning along with a Hayfever tablet, but as some of you may know I had tried to muddle through the cloudiness and not succumb to the need for medication for some time. I know that therapy and counselling is helping make a difference and battling my demons, but I also need to look forward and celebrate my future. 

This is a time where I should be happy and excited about finally getting the home I have always dreamt of, well at least in part. With the house seemingly moving along nicely and with the solicitors now instructed and doing their thing with searches and the likes, I am feeling more positive than ever. There is no move date as yet so don't grab your red cups and vodka for the house party just yet. I am almost certain after talking to different people at work and through other groups of friends that the process will quicken pace and before I know it the contract will be with us ready to sign on the dotted line. 

Does it makes me nervous about getting a house? Yes, of course it does! However I have to put everything into perspective and when the Devil on my shoulder tells me that it is going to be very expensive and makes me question as to whether Mr Warehouse and I can afford it, I must remember all of the other times that I thought or wondered how I would ever afford what I wanted in life. I look back even now over the last couple of years before I had Vivienne (my car) and I question as to what exactly I spent my money on as I didn't have much to show for it. Before I moved into my bachelor pad upstairs in the block that I currently reside, I lived in a studio type room within a house of multiple occupancy and even back then when I was on pretty much minimum wage, jumping from job to job, I question what I spent my cash on. 

It terrifies me to think that I will yet again have to depend on someone else and with that statement I mean that I will not be able to afford the house by myself should anything go wrong and therefore will rely on Mr Warehouse and his input both financially and in running the place. Now I know that for many of you who are already married or cohabiting that this may not seem like such a big deal, but I don't know, maybe this is a problem for me because I have been let down many times by other people, both in past romantic relationships as well as within my close family network. My therapist has said that abandonment is a major part of my life and that many things can trigger this rejection so making sure that someone doesn't get too close or that I don't depend on anyone apart from me is simply my way of coping and dealing with never feeling cast aside, unwanted or unloved ever again. I think my one biggest fears going into the whole experience of buying a home with someone I am not married to is that I know there is no legal standing when it comes to our separation, regardless when or even if it happens. Mind you, I suppose that being married doesn't necessarily mean that someone will not get up and just leave you either. 

I have to remember that this is a happy time in my life and that one day I will explain to my own children about how I bought my first home at the ripe old age of twenty-six. I suppose there isn't many of my friend circle, if any at all, that have been able to get onto the property ladder without any financial help from someone, family or otherwise. I am seriously glad to be feeling even a little bit more back to normal and I am ever so grateful for the amount of support and love I have had over the last few months, fingers crossed it won't be long before I can once again walk in the sunshine and Sparkle as I did before. 

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

Overcast With a Chance of Sun

Heyy All, 

Another Bank Holiday in the UK rules around and yet more of our DIY and general redecoration of our small flat gets postponed. I swear that by the time that we end up getting around to doing something it will probably be time to move into our own home. Finger Crossed 'eh?! As last week I explained that our Landlord, whilst slightly slow at getting anything of necessity done quickly is now in the process of remodelling a kitchen and bathroom so that we have brand new tiles and flooring. With the renovation works due to start next week I am slightly putting off our plans to paint, decorate and generally get on with our own little projects. It seems as though I endlessly talked about the fact that I am nowhere near owning my own home anytime soon and it is a subject matter that most of my friends outside of work also are struggling with due to the fact that there is very little affordable housing being built and what is in existence is very far and few between and hardly affordable when the average wage is in the region of £22,500 per annum. Whilst I spoke of last week about our fifty-something-year-old parents reaping the benefits of having plentiful and affordable housing, a lower cost of living and stable employment with good earning potential I can become frustrated and angry at my situation as I know that there is absolutely no way that I know anyone around me or in fact that of government or higher powers can change anything and the latter to have at the very least made the situation worse. 

This coupled with how low and upset I have been feeling over the last few weeks I have sought to find some help in the form of a therapist or counselling. In general my mood has not been great and if anything I have felt extremely cloudy probably since the funeral or maybe even beforehand, what with stress masking my true feelings. I really have not been feeling myself at all lately. I don't feel as sunshine-y anymore and instead I find myself a bit lost all round. I am worried about how quickly this has all come about and as a result I am not waiting for doctor's for a appointment in order to diagnose me with what I think I already have. Depression. Not going to lie I am able to fully function with this going on in the background and I know that there will be the light at the end of the tunnel soon, but Depression is taking away every little bit of happiness or joy that I have left in my life I feel at the moment and I know that it is me and only me that can help get out of the Black Hole I find myself in. 

On it's own any of the issues that I spoke about last week would be probably something I could handle fairly well normally, however, I don't suppose that having several massive life-changing events happening all within a couple of months is ever going to be easy to both process and deal with on top of normal day to day life. I know what it feels like and I have been here before, a few times at least. I don't want to seem so blase, but  I know that this is just a phase of sorts and that the clouds will soon pass making way for my true self to blossom once again, brightening your days, making you laugh and even cracking a joke or two. 

I know not to throw the word depression around like it is nothing. It is. Somehow breaking your leg and clearly having it in plaster makes it easier for people to talk about a illness or injury, but with disorders such as anxiety, depression and other mentally debilitating conditions it is not so easy. You have those that care and ask how you are everyday obviously wanting to hear that you are doing well. But then there are others that don't quite understand just how difficult it is. These types of people will not understand and simply asked you to pull yourself together or to pick yourself up and get on with it. Phrases like this anger me no end as if that was as easy as you are saying then I would simply not be where I am now and comments like this to people suffering from mental illness are detrimentally dangerous to their recovery, infecting the brain with all sorts of thoughts that are unnecessary and unwanted for someone that simply needs your love and support in what can be a very scary and lonely time in their life. 

I really think that therapy and counselling will help me as it did last time. I just need to really try and immerse myself in things that made me happy before. Spending time with friends and with family always help improve my mood and lift my spirit when I am down. Talking to someone about the grief and hurt that I have been through the last few weeks and months especially can only help. And who knows what's around the corner maybe I'll have a big Lotto win and be able to have the cars, holidays and house I have always dreamt of. 

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

Getting Back on The Bike

Good Evening, 

With myself and a another work colleague wrestling with telephones and battling the emails I to thought myself was it really all worth it. Don't get me wrong I loved the feeling of being under pressure and a good kind of stress. I knew that within a day or two life would be back to normal and the equilibrium would be restored back in the service department of a busy fire and security company. Getting up from my desk, probably the first time in the whole morning, I went in search to get a cup of coffee. Almost on cue my phone rang. It was my Nanny Pumpkin. 

"Hello dear. I just wanted to let you know but your Granddad has gone back into hospital again" she said hastily knowing that she had quite a few other people to call. After more than five years of constant trips to doctors, pharmacies and hospitals myself and the rest of the family were well used to having at these sorts of phone calls just find out that there was no need to worry or stress as he bounced back once more. But there was something different about this time. Something more serious. Something wrong. But with customers queueing on the phones and emails coming out of my ears I have no choice but to return to my desk and see out another day in the office. 

Throughout the afternoon I had more phone calls from Auntie's, Uncle's and even my Dad updating me on his progress or lack of thereof. After work I called around, trying to find out if anyone in the family had been able to contact my brother. It has probably been a good three maybe even four years since we last spoke, and even then it was at a funeral. God knows I didn't want it to be at another one but I needed my brother to know the details for him to make an informed choice like I had about whether he wanted to see my granddad one last time. But on speaking to my mother's sister she assured me that whilst she had fed the message back about just how poorly our grandfather was including details about where abouts he was being looked after in hospital to my brother, it would have appeared my mother was not all that serious about saying goodbye and in turn was preventing my brother from also going, even larking about 'how sick he really was'. 

Later on I discussed my decision about not going to see my grandfather in his final moments with with Mr Warehouse and I seriously worried that I have not made the right decision in going. I can only assume that after the upbringing I have had within the military family background, death is but inevitable along with taxes that is. I pondered on whether my grandfather would want me there but I settled my mind telling myself that he would be so high on drugs he would probably not even know I was there. 'How would I know if I have made that right decision to not see him?' I thought but in reality I knew the answer already and that it would only be clear if and when he was gone. My grandfather and I were never really that close. We chatted whenever I went round to see my Nanny Pumpkin and even shared in a few stories and anecdotes about travelling or dating. He was the person that taught me how to ride a bike all those many moons ago and was the person that taught me a very sure life lesson that would probably make me the person that I am today and that is when you fall off your bike you should always get back up and start riding again for the longer you leave it the worse it becomes when you do. 

Exhausted from a hard few days at work Mr Warehouse and I went to bed early where I quickly fell into a deep sleep. I was only in slumber for a few hours before I was awake once more. On waking I noted about it was still dark and was far from morning. I heard the faint tone of my mobile ringing and trying not to wake the rest of my household I went to go and answer it hoping that it would not wake Mr. Warehouse for he does get ever so grumpy without his beauty sleep. Looking at the time I could see that it was within the hour of 2am. 'Who would be calling at this hour?!' I pondered as I answered the call, expecting it to be a a drunk dial. Answering I heard my dad's voice and he sounded serious. 

"Hi. I am sorry to wake you but I thought you might need to know that your granddad has passed away tonight." My father said. And it was at this point that everything I thought about life and death came into perspective, as crystal clear as a diamond. I don't know for sure exactly what I said although I do remember asking him if he was OK despite very reason we were speaking at such a late hour. A brief conversation as it always ever was with my father he ended the call promising to speak in the morning. I was now shaking. I was freezing cold. Now I was hot. Wait, I'm going to be sick. Nope I need to poop. What the fuck is this. Now I'm cold again but sweating. My hands were clammy as I figure out my way to the bathroom for fear of something unnatural happening to me. Is this shock? Is this fear? 

Sitting on the toilet with my head hovering over the bathtub for at least 30 minutes I became more and more chilly. Head spinning I took a bowl from the kitchen and returned to the safety and warmth of my bed shared with my beloved Mr Warehouse, fast asleep, just as I had left him. But climbing back in bed did not solve my problems. I was pleasantly warm now but the clammy sweaty cold feeling did not leave me. All I could think about was my family and what I may say at the funeral. Would I be asked to say anything? How would we all get to and from the church, service and wake? What would I wear? What would Mr. Warehouse wear? What will the family say about my decision not to see him before he passed? Would the family argue over silly things? All these things that whizzed around my head until I fell back asleep. When I next open my eyes it was morning. My alarm is ringing letting me know that it was time to get up, get ready and get on with the day. As I pulled on some black leggings and a comfy jumper, a staple it seems for my work attire at the moment, Mr. Warehouse awoke, groggy from the Sandman's reign. I told him the news which suddenly seemed to make him perk up and listen. 

"Why are you going in?" Mr. Warehouse asked me, clearly concerned with how I was feeling and possibly worried as was I on how I would handle my workday today, all in the knowledge of what yesterday and the day before brought me. But I had very little choice. If I chose not to go in and stay at home I would just vegetate and watch crap TV which was not really an option when you know that someone else is going to have to pick up the pieces and run an entire five-man service desk team by themselves that was already snowed under and bombarded with constant emails, phone calls and to do lists. And so I went in. Do I regret not going in? Yes probably. Many people and mainly work colleagues told me that I should have probably not gone in that day. But the fact of the matter is that I did and let's be fair in realistic terms what choice did I honestly have. If I had not turned up and for whatever reason my other colleague has not come in also there would be absolutely no one to answer any of the customer complaints, queries or questions. After the week that I have had I could have probably done with not going in. A few close work colleagues and friends of mine had said that family comes first regardless of the job and what I was doing it should have all taken a back burner in order for me to be with my family at what was a difficult time. 

But was it though? Whilst yes what happened in the early hours of Tuesday morning was very sad and upsetting for everyone involved, myself included, unfortunately this was something that we were expecting as a family for some time now. This was far from being out of the blue and a shock to our system. Everyone was apologising and saying sorry. Whilst I did honestly appreciate their condolences, I did consider what I did in the past given the same or similar situation. I too had apologised and said sorry. But I suppose the ironic thing is that I was not sorry at all. I could not take away the pain and sadness as much as they could not take away mine. Alas we are British at the end of the day and it just so happens that we are not that great at talking and dealing with death. I mean you can hardly say "Awwh That Sucks!" when your best friend tells you her Nan died. 

In between my hectic work schedule, barrage of emails and heavy flow of customer calls I was contacted by various members of my friends and family asking me how I was. The truth was that I felt fine. Admittedly. my world was certainly not the same as it was when I went to bed last night and in a small way felt a little emptier than before. The last few days have been difficult and odd to say the least. Work has been exceptionally busy and with a hectic weekend I have barely had a moment to think. Work colleagues, friends and even Mr. Warehouse are telling me that I am taking everything in my stride and dealing with it very well. But I'm just getting on with it. Besides, gotta get back up and on the bike sooner or later?!

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

A Crime-Scene in My Pants

Evening one and all, 

So after a long and stressful week I was certainly looking forward to the weekend and a much deserved bottle or two. Settling into the drivers seat outside TESCO as I prepared for the journey home, snacking on some ham since I had been hungry since missing my lunch that day. Suddenly walking past the front of my little Viv I noticed my Dad, and, clocking one another I was certainly glad for what ensued. Several hours later we had touched on many a subject including marriage, travelling and home buying, something until only recently I had sought some professional advice about. I think that everything last week had seemed like a challenge and that I wasn't going anywhere and that getting to where I wanted to be, especially on the property ladder, seemed out and out so un-achievable unless I came into a great deal of money or spent the next decade saving. Seeing Dad was lovely and the heart to heart conversations was what I severely missed in my relationship with him. Pop's probably doesn't even realise it but our meeting was really cathartic and meant a great deal to me, even if it was unplanned. 

Seeing Family over the weekend also cheered me up no end, especially my cousins. Aged eleven and twelve, both boys are starting to learn about the world and how it works, and during the course of Saturday I was taught the difference between all the difference levels of Cannabis on the spectrum of hallucinogenics and how these days, schools tend not to bother with the whole banana and condom trick. Oh no! Kids nower days are given full blown Dildo's (And yes my cousin did shout the word dildo several times in the middle of Costa Coffee) and made to put a condom on. The world has come a long way since 2001 I thought. 

Back in the day the lad's and ladies were separated in order to learn about their bodies, but we were never shown or taught what the other had to endure. Ergo, we had the era of the period jokes and a crude fascination with the opposite sex. I would have loved to be a fly on a wall in that room, hearing all about inappropriate boners and what semen contains. I suppose as a boy is may have been equally interesting listening into tits and fannies for half hour every Thursday afternoon. 

In this time frame all the girls were handed a booklet about our body and how it changes in preparation for periods and the eventuality of childbirth. This was my actual nightmare beginning. I hated,  and still do, talking about periods openly. It is something private and whilst every women aged fifteen to fifty does it I still feel a twinge of cringe when I open up about bleeding 'downstairs'. I don't laugh and period puns and can hardly stand it buying tampons or pads, forcing them through the self-scan at TESCO like some strange lady with a weird body function to hide. Its embarrassing - Both being so ashamed of it and actually having to put up with altering your life for however many days in the month. I am lucky in a way that I never suffered at the hands of cramping or major mood swings like some of my friends in the playground, however I think every girl will admit to remembering those dark days when you didn't know how to manage it. Spills, accidents and leaks were something I loathed but in a way I was grateful because it meant that someday I could have my own children and in  way I have now come to accept that it is something natural and normal. 

I will still try to hide away when someone reminds me of that scene in a Rom-Com somewhere, I think its called 'No Strings Attached' (which is ironically funny when I tell you where this is going). Ashton Kutcher (love of my life) makes a period mix-tape and brings round cupcakes for all his Bae's friends, including one friend who describes her period as "A Crime-Scene in My Pants". On this mix-tape including old favourites such as Bleeding Love by Leona Lewis, Red Red Wine by UB40 and The Tide Is High by Atomic Kitten (or Blondie, if your so inclined). As cringe as that was it does go on and the full track listing can be found online. Cute, cringe and bile-inducing all at the same time is hard, but somehow Ashton nails it ... And me if he is in Bedford any time soon!

Back in the classroom the time soon comes when both the classes were combined, adding to the social awkwardness, both for students and teachers alike. Settling an unruly class is one thing, but trying in-vain to teach them about the birds and the bees was another, and so most teachers at my small town Middle School chose to simple put in a VHS they had recorded from a teachers Satellite channel in the late, late hours (Yes I did just say VHS). 

But I must confess that in the whole history of me being in school, both middle and high, the majority if not all of the things I learnt and picked up weren't from phallic shaped fruits or dodgy home-recorded videos, It was from friends (Miss Tweedle-Dee deserves a shut out here as my main provider of such material and knowledge), late night babe channels and sadly porn. I think that teaching kids younger about what is right and wrong in relationships is and can only be a good thing. Starting them off young, telling them about the Pant Rule and showing them about how good relationships work is crucial in bringing down the number of Rapes, teen and unwanted pregnancies as well as STI's and non-abusive relationships. It can only get better and as on the continent shows that good things come from starting them off early with preventative education and serious chats about well-being. 

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

If Your Prescence Adds No Value, Then Your Absence Will Not Be Missed

Hiya, 

This time last week I was writing to you all from the grandeur and beauty of mine and Mr. Warehouse's room at the Hotel Victoria conveniently located along the Cornish coastline, right in the heart of Newquay. This time next week I shall be writing to you all hopefully poolside from mine and the Tweedles apartment in (hopefully) sunny Lanzarote, Canary Islands. Oh what a jet setting life I lead! But all that holibobbing doesn't fix some things which was evident this week. 

After not hearing anything from my father in weeks since calling him in agony asking for his help and not receiving it I had refused to answer his pathetic attempts at conversation and apart from a few crumby phone calls when he wasn't already preoccupied that I ignored I had received nothing - Not even an apology. Friday afternoon though, I got a text message asking me to talk to my Dad and explain why I was upset with him. 'Thank fuck for that' I thought 'Finally he gets it and understands why I was (and still am) so upset with him'! I replied something that I thought made the point but also explained that I would not let this ruin our relationship anymore than it already had been. 

"I would have thought it was obvious why I did not want to speak with you after the last time we spoke I had asked for your help when I was in severe pain and you didn't help me at all. No I acknowledge that by the time you got to me I could have got to where I needed to go to get help and be back at home all by the time you had even reached my flat, but what I cannot understand is that after knowing my financial situation what with Mr. Warehouse being out of work as well as the current medical difficulty I was in also, you still chose not to help me. This is not the first time that I have asked for your help and it had not been received, but I can assure you that it will be the last as I will not be asking for your help anymore as I simply cannot rely on you as a daughter should be her Dad. I am still upset and angry but I will see you this weekend I am sure at the family BBQ, but just know that whilst I will be civil and polite to you, your priorities are in all the wrong order and some changes need to be made. xxx" I wrote, emotional but glad I was able to say everything I needed too. Fifteen minutes later I received this reply:
"Right. Now you have had your little rant and said what you want to say - Believe me, my priorities are in good order, but I am deeply embarrassed by you and your actions. I have done everything to assist you and help you where I can and by the best means I have available, and yet you still throw shit in my face. My girlfriend and her family has shown you nothing but love and gratitude from day one and it is YOU who chooses to ignore them and that you do well. She tries to call or text you to give you advice from a female perspective, but you are rude and fail to see that others care for you as well as me. You are all about yourself and what you can get from others. I love you to the end of the world and back but you still wish to make my life hell after the divorce. I thought that WE had put this shit to bed years ago, but there it is sitting under your radar ready to throw at me again. As for you being ill, I was VERY concerned as it was me that called you everyday to see how you were, but you never answered and you never call me, do you? I could not have taken you to the hospital any quicker that a Taxi could have. YOU MADAM have a wonderful boyfriend who loves and cares for you and I could have done nothing to help other than what I did - Sorry it was not enough. You should take a long hard look in the mirror and think long and hard about what you want from life and who you want to spend/share it with because from where I am sitting I am very happy. I don't need enemies in my life but if they are there I know how to handle them. What I love in my life is my partner, daughter, our families and a few choice friends."

Shocked and stunned at what I was reading I drank my coffee as I waited for Miss Stuu to collect me and go to Dinner with Miss Tweedle-Dumb and Miss Tweedle-Dee who were shopping in Milton Keynes. Calling my Auntie for advice she backed up everything I thought about myself, the situation and my life as I know it so far. But as I discussed it round the table with my girlfriends I knew that something was not right. Getting home that night I fell into Mr. Warehouse's arms and sobbed, explaining what a terrible message I had received and why my life was so pants when it came to parental guidance. 

Your Parents are meant to be there throughout everything. Like "Fuck - Mom, I'm Pregnant!" or "Dad I really need your help - I'm in serious trouble" it would always be your parents that you turn to first. Whether its because you have spent all your food money in the first week of Freshers or because you got arrested for doing something unlawful, your parents should always be there for you, supporting you in any and every way they can, be it mentally, emotionally or even financially. That is there job - Right? At least that is what I thought anyway. Obviously I am incorrect in my way of thinking. Now yes, I do acknowledge that I am twenty-four, but I still need me Mam and Dad. Doesn't matter how old you get, there will always be an excuse to go out for some shopping and a cheeky afternoon tea with your mom whilst you bitch about the girls or how shitty your ex was. There will always be a time where you Dad endearingly threatens to beat up a purely-platonic, male-friend of yours, just in case he breaks my heart. Not for me. 

It used to make me so sad when I watched programmes about weddings and saw ladies planning their dream day with their mothers or having girlie pamper nights watching chick flicks with lots of naughty treats. Slowly over time I have had no choice but to accept that my friends and co-workers will have this, but I will not. Over time I have understood this is something through no fault of mine I cannot have. Or at least I thought so. But now with my Father also acting in a way that is progressively shutting me out as the years go on I am starting to wonder if it is me? What did I honestly do wrong to deserve this? What in a past life of mine did I do so wrong that I was dealt not just one lemon, but a whole fucking truck load? 

I have other friends and family members around me that can fill that space, but the principal is that they shouldn't have to. He is my Dad and should step up and be one, not pushing me aside until it suits him. Sometimes I am grateful that my baby Brother (although at twenty this year he is not so little anymore) is not involved in this mess, for if our Dad can barely stretch his time to see or help me then what hope would he have?! In a way I think I can handle it and deal with it on a level, but why should I? Why should I have to put up with the lame excuses why he can't see me or why he isn't able to help me out. No more. Suffice to say the BBQ the follwoing afternoon was a tad frosty and whilst we spoke a few words to each other I was not in any way going to stick my neck out on the line and offer an olive branch.

I will never know why my Dad is "embarrassed" by me and my actions or how I "still throw shit" in his face after the divorce or even how or why I should be seen to make an effort with someone else's family when they rarely bother with me and quite frankly have no reason to include them in a life that has never included them before a few years ago. I love my Father to pieces however I now realise just how selfish and self-obsessed he has always been, even from a young age and that is not going to change just because we all got another year older.  

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx 

Getting Back On The Horse!

Hello one and all, 

So after the debacle of last week I am slightly feeling better although I am fully aware that my Cystitis is still raging my downstairs mix-up and creating more hassle than its worth. I have the day off tomorrow though so I am hoping now my course of Antibiotics have finished I can go back and they can finally get to the bottom of why this is such a chronic issue for me. As another week has come and gone, yet another drama unfolds. Would it surprise you in the slightest if I told you that my absolutely lovely Mr. Warehouse has yet another job. Yes. I know. 

Meeting me after work on Tuesday en route to my second job I saw a solomn face that said something was wrong. Worried Mr. Warehouse was about to put us right back to square one, I asked why the long face. He explained that after finishing his job that afternoon and despite being told that he would be needed all week at the Steelworks, he had been told on Tuesday afternoon as he finished that his services were not required tomorrow and that they would be in touch if and when they did need him. Heart sinking and feeling the all too familiar now sickness return to the back of my throat I swallowed the anger and resentment and told him I loved him. "It would get better, wouldn't it?" I soothed myself. "I mean it has to right? Can't get much worse - Can it?"

"Come on then, be honest, there must be a reason why they would give everyone else work and not you. Just tell me. I wont be angry. I promise." I asked my beloved other-half. 
"I don't know. I really don't have a clue." He replied, puzzled. "Unless it was the fact that some women asked me to cut two-hundred-and-forty sheets of Steel and I cut two-hundred-and-forty-three as otherwise there would have been a lot of excess waste."
Disappointed I tried to hide it as I said to him that he needs to listen carefully to instructions and follow them by the book exactly or this will keep happening. 
"If this women has asked for two-hundred-and-forty sheets of metal cut into heart-shaped dildo's then she wants two-hundred-and-forty sheets of metal cut into heart-shaped dildo's! If she wants them rammed up her arse - She wants them rammed up her arse, no questions asked." I said trying to be empathetic although lacking slightly through frustration and anger. 

Arriving into town, we departed the bus and headed towards the call centre. After making several phone calls to the agencies in town that were still open with no luck I had said it would be a good idea to come with me to my place of work and enquire if they were still hiring as they may have been able to interview him there and then on the spot. Although Mr. Warehouse clearly had other ideas as he kissed me on the cheek and headed for the bus back home to the flat. 
"What are you doing?" I asked, confused. 
"I'm going home. I can't do this right now. I'm so sick and tired of this!" Mr. Warehouse flippantly said, unaware at just how close I was to boiling point. 
"What, and you really think I enjoy going to work every single evening at a call centre I am not even reaping the rewards from?" I simmered, although cooling myself enough to convince him to come with me and give it a go. 

No more than a few steps into our ten-minute walk to the call centre I heard moaning. 
"Well its not like you support me anyway is it?" Mr. Warehouse snapped. And with that phrase, so did I. Launching into Defcon-10, I ranted about how much love and support I have tried to muster over the last few weeks, all in the knowledge that my wages alone couldn't support us, especially not when we have a wedding to go to this weekend which we have barely anything saved for and my annual summer holiday with the girls which I again barely have a two-cent coin to run together let alone any spending money for Euros. Rant continuing after Mr. Warehouse had explained that 'its not what I meant - I meant financially' sent me into overdrive and I launched even further stating that given another week or two and it would be yours truly picking up his credit card bill and all other manor of bills he has. 

Boil over I arrived at work and sat on the wall outside looking into the storm in the distance. It began to rain. I thought about how it would ever get better if there is no motivation, confidence or skill to be had. I couldn't keep doing this. Was this it? Was this how it was all going to end? Would I be in a fortnight or so's time asking Mr. Warehouse to move out and calling an end to our relationship? What about all those horrible dates on Tinder? Who would I have pillow fights with at four-in-the-afternoon or tickle before I go to sleep? 

Worried I went to work and returned home in a zombie like state, going about the motions until it was time for bed. Someone was hungry but all I could think about was the fact that my boyfriend was yet again unemployed and in that very moment I could feel myself detach from him slightly and a little light in me went out. Scared for our future together and what may be round the next corner I struggled to sleep as the stiffness of an angry-jobless penis stuffed into my lower back, its owner oblivious to how it felt to be skewered like a shish kebab.  

The following morning I got dressed and ready for work, sighing as I looked at my sleeping Beau, only to feel the same as the night before. Grey. Leaving the house I was hopeful that something would come up, but all in the knowledge that the Xbox was still on standby. But I need not have worried so much, for by the time I sat down at my desk with my breakfast and morning coffee I had a email. It was Mr. Warehouse. He had a phone-call from the Agency and they had asked him to come it to do a drugs test as they may have got him a placement for a Temp-Perm contract at a Pharmaceuticals company. The same Pharmaceuticals company my doting father works at. Nervous and worried he wouldn't pass I encouraged him to be honest with them as to what he had taken medication wise in the last four-weeks and just get down to their town-centre offices to do the test. 

Couple of hours later I had the phone-call I had been waiting for. 
"I start tomorrow" Mr. Warehouse said down the phone in an excited and yet relieved tone. I was so proud of him. He had passed all his Math, English and Drugs test with flying colours and was now a fully fledged member of the temporary team working the daytime shift, aptly named 'The Golden Ticket' as it starts at 7am and your finished by 3pm - Perfect for parents, second-jobbers and lazy-bums alike. And with picking and packing it shouldn't be the hardest thing my little employee has had to do. I was absolutely over-the-moon for him and so was everyone around me, for I had turned into such a stress-head when Mr. Warehouse didn't have a job. 

Now sure, money would be tight, and will be at least for a few weeks until we are back from the wedding in Newquay. I still have no idea how we are going to pay for everything, but I am sure we will manage. What was that old nineteen-fifties saying I swear by: Make Do and Mend? Well I have made a couple of the wedding gifts and I have mended some bits and pieces together so hopefully we can still have a lovely time, just on a bit of a budget. I have numerous vouchers, discount codes and coupons clipped and stored away for meals out and cheap and cheerful days out. A combination of Sea Safari's, Aquariums, Long Beach Walk and Pirate Museums have me very excited to visit Cornwall - I have even convinced Mr. Warehouse to come horse-riding with me.

In all honesty I am actually really looking forward to going away with Mr. Warehouse who I am still proud to call my boyfriend. He may be a pain in the arse sometimes and we may row every now and again, but who doesn't. Here's hoping that Newquay will be just the break to rekindle our love for each other and that I can get back that little light that went out. I just hope he really see's just how much I have done for us and just how close to the edge we were from falling. 

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx 

Timing Is Everything!

Hello-Hello,

Sitting on my sofa after a hard Monday back at work I listened to where Mr. Warehouse would be placed tomorrow by a new agency he had signed up with. Carefully hearing all the important information I asked what the plan was for dinner as I had a driving lesson and needed to know what time he was due to be back.

"Oh. I didn't ask that one?" My dear boyfriend replied. After explaining why it was important that before any job role he knows the exact details about where he was working, when the shift started and ended as well as what he was doing and how much he was being paid, I jokingly exclaimed that I would see him at 10pm. How very different I would feel in less than twenty-four-hours time.

The following morning our little household was woken up bright and early and as I saw Mr. Warehouse off to work as a warehouse operative at a homeware distribution centre on the outskirts of town, I got myself ready. Checking my phone after taking the dog for her morning walk I was pleased to hear that my other-half had got to work OK and with a few minutes to spare before his shift started at half-seven in the morning, he took the time to speak with some new colleagues. Enquiring about the job itself and how people enjoyed it they exclaimed and laughed at him that he should probably sack it in now as the days are long and hard with no-one leaving until everything is done. One man even described how the evening before was a twelve-hour long shift. I laughed in reply and Mr. Warehouse had stood by his comments the night before stating that he shouldn't be there more than eight-hours and that he would see me at four-thirty when he finished.

As the day went by and my mind was occupied by engineers, new jobs and workloads to manage it soon arrived to lunch-time but as I sat in the canteen, I got a message saying that it might be nearer to six or seven in the evening than four in the afternoon. Not worried I told him that it was his fault and not to complain because he should have asked the agency what the working shift pattern was before taking the job offer in the first place. Either way he would still be home before me for my driving lesson was booked until 7pm.

But as I sat watching the darkness descend slowly outside our patio doors, I wondered about where my other-half was. Mr. Warehouse and I had not spoken since lunchtime and that was well over six-hours ago. Anxious although not panicked yet the phone rang. It was Momma Warehouse and she sounded distraught.

"Is he there with you?" She asked frantic. I replied no.

"When was the last time you heard from him?" came the next question which again I could only answer vaguely. After explaining she had been trying to get hold of him all evening I said that there was probably nothing to worry about and that he would probably be walking through the door any moment. But as I hung up the call I realised it was already coming up to 8pm and I suddenly started to worry. As the next hour ticked by I still had no responses from my calls, texts and messages. I was very concerned now. Thinking the worst I messaged Miss Tweedle-Dumb who called Mr. Warehouse in vain whilst I tried to get in touch with Mr. CWG - Mr. Creepy Warehouse Guy. When I heard that he also had not heard from him since that afternoon I really started to panic. My boyfriend messages Mr. CWG more than me so for him not to have heard anything either was a worry. Thoughts racing through my mind I began to cry. Hot tears rolling down my cheeks I ended my call to Mr. CWG and made my final move before calling the police.

Dialling the Agencies out of hours number I prayed that they picked up and when they did I went on a ramble explaining to the young girl that answered that my partner had not come home from work and that this now was over thirteen-hours since he left the house. Understanding my concerns to some extent she explained rather pathetically how the establishment where he was placed do "occasionally" work overtime, however this was option and every employee had the right to refuse. This was strange and didn't sound right. What was I to do? Was my boyfriend still at work? Did he feel so bad about letting me down last week he has worked these extra hours to make up for lost money? Has he just done this all out of spite because I pushed him so hard to find something rather than nothing? Had he left work and in an attempt to save money walked home and had an asthma attack and was in hospital? Or even worse - A ditch? I needed to know so I asked the young girl on the end of the phone to please check where her employees were and when they would be home for people were worried sick about them.

Aggressively hanging up the phone I called Mr. Warehouse's mobile in the hope he would answer but I knew he would not. It was ringing so I knew it hadn't died or otherwise it would gone straight to voice-mail. Miss Tweedle-Dumb had also tried as had my dad, Momma Warehouse, Mr. CWG and all of Mr. Warehouses cousins and family. We were all very concerned. 10pm came and went and as I started to think what my next move would be and which one of the many pictures I would be releasing to the press and Crimewatch, the phone rang. It was the Agency. She explained to me that my partner had stayed extra to help with the workload and that he was definitely still working in the warehouse. I asked her if she thought it was appropriate that someone was working over fourteen-hours on their first day of work and whether this was common practise. She couldn't answer. I should not have been surprised when she could not even answer me when he would be home, only explaining that it was "extremely rare that the company was working this late and that normally al the guys were at home by now" however this did not provide comfort to my already trembling self.

Another hour passed before I had a phone call explaining that Mr. Warehouse would be home soon. How soon is soon though I asked and before I had a chance for her to answer Miss. Tweedle-Dumb called explaining that she had just spoken with Mr. Warehouse and that he was going to be calling me very, very shortly. After a fifteen-hour shift I finally answered a call from Mr. Warehouse. Grabbing the dog I ran out into the street to meet him. The buses had stopped running hours ago and so a supervisor had given him a lift. 'And I should think so too - It was the absolute very least they could do!' I thought to myself as I held him underneath a lamppost in what seemed like the dead of night.

Stepping into the flat examined my exhausted and broken man. I began to cry and with all the stress and hardship that we had been through reattaching itself to my shoulders I began to wonder what would happen to us next. Shattered I warmed up his evening meal and we began to speak slowly of the evening we had both encountered. Mr. Warehouse explained that after working all day it was outlined by his supervisor that the work needed to be done and that an overtime rate would be paid for any hours done extra. It was made very clear to the workers that these overtime hours were not as extra and optional, but almost as standard and critical if you wanted to keep your job. In the whole fifteen-hour day Mr. Warehouse had done he had only barely had an hour-and-ten-minutes break time. This coupled with the fact that I only sent him to work with a small packed lunch consisting of a roll, packet of crisps and a chocolate biscuit and no breakfast made for some truly appalling bedtime story especially when you hear of there being no on-site facilities to get extra food for the long shifts ahead.

After all that the Agency called the following morning after I had left and spoke asked Mr. Warehouse why he was not at work for he should have been there from 07.30am. Shocked and outraged my beloved boyfriend explained the night he had and after exclaiming the fact that he did not return home until nearly midnight, he was due at least an eleven-hour rest period between shifts as a government standard by law. Saying nothing the Agency said they would speak to him later but with the respect of another never-ending shift ahead of him Mr. Warehouse called them back to explain he would not be returning. The Agency laid him off that assignment and by the end of the day had found him something new to start. A rolling contract day-by-day at a steelworks literally round the corner from his old workplace and my desk was just what he needed. With shifts from 8am until 4.30pm and a super early finish at lunchtime on a Friday it finally seemed as though thing were looking up for us. He went to work on his first day Thursday last week and has been there ever since, even helping out to do some "opted into" overtime on Friday afternoon. I just hope that this becomes a bit more permanent in the future.

This break away to my Auntie and Uncles one-hundred-year-old cottage in southern Ireland couldn't have come at a better time and with all the mounting stress of money, bills and upcoming events to pay out for I am glad for the relaxing atmosphere. Rolling hills, fresh country air and nothing to do but feeding animals is just what the doctor ordered. However in recent conversation, Mr. Warehouse has told me that apparently his supervisor had ridiculed me for calling so many times and had mentioned something that I would be angry when my boyfriend returned home. Well sir, if you are reading of which you probably are not as you are dictating work to already burned out but desperate people, you are whom I am angry with. You are wrong in what you are doing, both by the laws of this land but also morally. I would like to know what drug you are on for I cannot see how you can sleep at night preying on the vulnerable of society in order to gain a wealth of profits and turnover for your fat cats up there in the office. I hope to god that you have to suffer what everyone under your leadership suffers and that one day Karma will come and get you. She has your number sir, she's coming for you!

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

Teenage Dreams!

Hello Fellow Humans, 

I have finished with my Googling of Teeth Fetish's and Horny Dental Nurse Porn. Instead I have set my sights the bookshelf of my youth. Ahh yes, my teenage diaries!

I shall invite you this evening into the world of Pre-TATOATS. A universe before the wonderment of college and complicated-ness of adult life as I know it now. First entry is from 2008, a year I remember for all the wrong reasons; Turning seventeen, getting my first boyfriend, first girls holiday abroad with Miss Tweedle-Dumb, Prom, Finishing School, Exams and my parents divorce, not to mention what the subsequent months entailed ... 

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01 January 2008
Dear Diary, 
OMG! First day of 2008 and I sat on my bum and did nothing all day. Well not all day but hey-ho! I made a video for Miss Tweedle-Dee (yes I have known her that long!) about Miss Tweedle-Dee. I also watched The Mighty Boosh (of which I am still an avid fan!) and wow it is actually amazzzzing! I love The Mighty Boosh and I love Noel Fielding. He is fit!  Noel Fielding is the best thing ever and I want his babies! Anyway, as I was saying. January. I have lots of things planned already like seeing Elliot Minor (some unknown, unsigned student emo-band I used to be into that apparently made it big!?). So New Years Day means New Years Resolutions which in turn mean that I will make stupid, pathetic little rules about life that I will attempt to follow and yet after two weeks fail miserably and be found in the corner of my music class scoffing galaxy chocolate and lusting after Mr. Woof (yes and him!) as per usual! OMG! that first sentence was so gay?! LOL! (my twenty-year-old self is still impressed with how much Sass I had back then!)
9pm - OK so now I am upstairs and upset. I am so fucked off right now! Stupid brother and his provoking attitude. Little dick splash. Who does he think he is winding me up like that. Needs to grow some pubes the little Knob Stain! Grrrr!

---

13 February 2008
Dear Diary, 
So right now I am sitting on my bed listening to my devil of a brother sing The hills are alive. Well I wish they were alive so they would swallow you whole you pathetic little worm. Also went to town today with Miss Tweedle-Dumb and I am really glad as I think I unearthed some home-truths. She said that I bounce from Guy to Guy and am a bit of a pinball when it comes to boys, latching myself onto them and getting hurt. Maybe this is because I have never had a proper boyfriend before or been in a real relationship. I hate to say it but I think she is right. (safe to say that my teenage years only reflected directly onto my twenties love-life)

---

14 April 2008
Dear Diary, 
Well today has been boring! Although it has gone rather fast and unusually exciting! OMG! LOL! PMSL! ROTFL! LMAO! OK so I am walking home from school and I glance over and see Mr. Prom (a guy I fancied in the first year of High school, went off him for a while and then fell in love with him just before Prom, asked him to be my date at prom, he agreed, we flirted for a while but he never came Prom shopping with me and we didn't get round to sorting anything out for the big night so we never went to Prom together. He became Prom King, some bitch became Prom Queen and I think he is now studying Fitness and playing Rugby at University somewhere in Kent!). Then I hear as I turn away and smile subtly him sing beautifully that song from Pretty Women. I mean Wow! I'm in love! I heart R.C!

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02 June 2008
Dear Diary, 
Nicola (whoever she was) is such a bitch-whore! (at this point teen-me has drawn a picture of a stick man with a hairy bearded fact and wearing a skirt with a dick popping out) God I hate her so much! Apparently I am doing my new job as a school cleaner all wrong and not doing it properly! Well fuck you shit head! (Ahh yes now I know who Nicola was. She was my boss at the time. Large lady with Ginger frizzy hair like Merida from Disney's Brave. We all have those days at work don't we, even now I call people Bitch-whores in my head!)

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25/26 July 2008
Dear Diary, 
So off on holiday today to fucking France yet again (Despite me booking a holiday to Lyon in August this year with Mr. Warehouse - Clearly wasn't that bad!?) but at least this time I am with my bestie, Miss Tweedle-Dumb. So once we were on the Ferry and Mom, Dad and Brat Brother had pissed off to find some crappy-shitty reclining chairs, Miss Tweedle-Dumb and I thought we would do an all nighter. As we were on the deck though. Haha Poop Deck - LOL. Yeah so as we were on Deck watching the ocean we saw these two guys. Daring Dan and Magic Marc were their names. After stalking them for a while we got chatting. OMG! Dan is so cute (at later glances though I can assure you he was not!) and I think he is well into me (Definitely wasn't as I later found out through Myspace.com that he had a girlfriend)! What could possibly prepare Miss Tweedle-Dumb and I for what happened next. No we didn't have sex! Although I was so ready! (Haha, no I wasn't I was like sixteen and couldn't spell sex if I tried) Once we had stalked and captured our prey Miss Tweedle-Dumb and I took them to a secluded, dark and derelict part of the ship (No, not a ship, a ferry). Then IT happened! Dan was spewing some shit about how he gave free hugs (a Japanese thing that I think we all did at school as an excuse to let off some steam and grope one another) but also kisses for a pound. But me and Miss Tweedle-Dumb were "Skint" so we were allowed free ones. Miss Tweedle-Dumb was pounced upon with no warning. I was given a more gentle and slow passionate snog! OMG! He was a good kisser. Top five maybe! He was sooo cute about it. "Hair" he said to me as he pulled the hairs from my face and went in for the kill (as if this bloke was some kind of fucking vampire!?). Not gonna lie I have a super big crush on him and his Stars and Straps Hi-Tops! OMFG! He is so scene! Best Holiday ever! (Until years later we went on the first holiday with Miss Tweedle-Dee and Miss Tweedle-Dumb in Fuerteventura)

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Ahh What I didn't know was round the corner was yet more heart ache, but also fun and frivolous times ahead. As if there wasn't enough already!

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx