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

And the Award for the Most Productive Weekend with A Hangover Goes to ...

Top of the marning all, 

Pheew! And party the weekend away I did! But strangely I have had a very productive weekend also. You see it all started on Thursday when, after work I headed into Town on my way home from work, stressful and as tiring as it always is, and went to get my nails done. Nearly an hour later, glossy glittery nails had befallen my finger tips and as I booked in my next appointment in February I knew that by then I would be very excited indeed at the prospect of being pampered once again! Trenching out into the blustery cold, wind and rain of a December night I picked up a few accessories from New Look and headed back home to Mr. Warehouse with Fish and Chips in toe to loosen the mood he was in after I had been shopping for several hours! Snuggling down in front of the Telly we leisurely wasted the next few hours on crap TV and takeaway before heading to bed for what I can only describe as some very heated moments between the sheets. 

Friday morning I awoke and with my day off commencing with me lazy on the sofa in the lounge whilst Mr. Warehouse slept in I lost track of the time and rushed around to get ready for our day of relaxation and pampering before the moon rose and the stars came out to play. First on the agenda was a Full Body Massage booked in for myself and Mr. Warehouse. Now my dear Mr. Warehouse had never had a massage before (Well apart from that one time ... Anyway) and so as a anniversary treat I had booked him in with my Bi-Monthly rub-down. In preparation for the nights antics to follow I thought it would be a good idea, although now Mr. Warehouse does not think so much. A few 'Ohhs', 'Owws' and knots later finally we were freed and allowed to get dressed and discuss the treatments on a whole which for me was relaxing, but not with the other half in the room. Hmm, Honeymoon bliss by the beach, I think not. Next time I am advising myself to spa and Massage alone. 

After we hit some shops for some last minute gifts we headed to a local 'posh' hotel for some Festive Afternoon Tea. Service as before was not the greatest and despite my desperate attempts to make it right in my head and justify the lack of staffing errors I couldn't help but succumb to the fact that it was simply a beautifully looking five-star appearing hotel, running a two-star service. 

Dashing back home in enough time I managed (Somehow) to get ready in less than two-hours and was ready, waiting for the cab to collect us at seven-thirty. After a few moments my phone rang and after several minutes of explaining to the cab driver that he was at the wrong address - Twice?! - He finally turned up, albeit nearly twenty-minutes late. Arriving at the venue Mr. Warehouse and I skipped inside out of the cold chill of the night. But as we walked in I saw no faces I knew. Other works Christmas parties were already settled down and in there seats but my friendly work family were no-where to be seen. 
"Maybe they're in the Bar next door" Mr. Warehouse ushered as we headed for the toilets. But as Mr. Warehouse sped into the gents I was greeted with a big hello from everyone as they came through from the Bar to the Restaurant areas. Kissing and hugging everyone as they walked passed in a possession line of familiar work colleagues I felt as though I was at a very fast paced wedding, greeting guests on their arrival. 

Soon Mr. Warehouse was by my side and I was thoughtful that a year ago I graced this same wood floor only to have known Mr. Warehouse for a few short months and been dating him for less than that. Now a year on, I sat across from him with all our friends, and some of them Mr. Warehouse's family, enjoying a pretend Christmas Dinner and pulling crackers with people we spoke to most days. I was in my element and enjoying every moment of it. After the meal was finished I took the opportunity to get up and mingle. Quite frankly I was sick and tired of being stuck in a limbo between to ends of a conversation and with no way of getting out due to seating arrangements placing my by a damn door. Nevertheless I saw my moment when a lady next to me went to the bathroom and I bolted to the nearest table I saw Champagne. Turned out to be my boss and Sales Reps table in which they were all highly invested in a conversation about Christmas Dinner, that was until little old me and my low cut dress came along and wet more than just their appetite for a over-elaborate Sunday Roast. 

As usual the evening ensued with my Sales Reps glancing more than necessary at my open chest, a few sexist and sexual remarks from engineers and a whole host of people taking the royal piss out of the money allocated for everyone behind the bar. Four-Hundred-Pounds spanked on booze for admittedly everyone, but some got more than others which frankly I thought was wrong and next year I plan at least to take more advantage of it than my measly two-ciders and a glass of Prosecco. 

Ordering cabs and heading into town I had the most hilariously awkward and sexual conversation with my two Sales Reps and Mr. Warehouse I have ever experienced and something that whilst at the time seemed funny, now just fills me with anxiety and absolute embarrassment, although is still as I look back on it, very funny. It started out with me running to the Cab with Mr. Warehouse and my two sales reps behind me and I simply asked Mr. Warehouse if he had picked up my heels to which he said he had. The following Taxi journey I spent apologising to the poor Cabbie and explaining to everyone, including the driver that "Yes, sometimes a women must ditch all attempts at gardening and simply patio over the luscious foliage to keep one's downstairs in tacked."

More hilarious moment soon caught up as we headed to a local Nightclub in town and spent most the evening on the dance floor. Even my Big-Big Boss was seen throwing some odd shapes to songs which included the 'N' word too much for my liking. But I soon saw that Mr. Warehouse was not up for dancing all night and to be honest it got kind of same-y and boring. So at ten-past-three on Saturday morning we called it a night, collected my shoes and bag from the cloakroom and headed home, but not before a stop off at Subway to pick up Breakfast and what turned out to be lunch the next day. All in all the Annual Works Office Christmas Party wasn't, in my mind, as good as last year but I suppose the nostalgia of it being my first year with the company, having so much to drink I was plastered by the time the starters came out and being around everyone I loved and cared so much for I don't know now if any year can top that one!? We'll have to wait and see though. 

Saturday itself was a very lazy day as I myself was the one who lied-in until gone midday, only to get up and move to the sofa-bed, already pulled out and occupied by that lovely Mr. Warehouse. Sunday was more productive though and after heading to town for a few super last minute bits, Mr. Warehouse and I spent the next seven hours straight wrapping Christmas Presents. I think I am an athlete at this now. I declare it as a sport of choice for the holiday season and as such I would like to crown myself queen of Sellotape and matching tags to paper with my specialist subject being the difficult wrappers! I did it. We did it! Only to realise moment later than in just a few days, under a week now, that wrapping paper and all my hard work with twirling, swirling, wrapping, sticking, popping and bow making will have all been a waste. Ahhh, what a way to spend the weekend, Eh?

So I suppose I won't speak to you now until the big man has come down my chimney and emptied his sack all over my Daddy's front room (No pun intended - Honest!). And to think that next time I write it may be of getting a Puppy or a Car or maybe even something better!? 

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

When Is The Right Time?!

Evening All, 

So last week was all about getting pissed up on cheap, flat cider and celebrating life with Mr. Warehouse and his family. And after a long, drawn out and strenuous week at work the past few days have been very relaxing and much more chilled.

From Friday night right through 'til this afternoon when I finished work I have stayed at Mr. Warehouse's home he shares with his mother, although she was away this weekend so Mr. Warehouse had invited me over to spend the weekend and look after his middle-aged Golden Retriever. A part of me did not even really realise until Saturday evening that we essentially were playing 'House'. And why not? Throughout the past nine months of my relationship with this man he has spent the majority of it with me either in my flat or at his mom's. But its strange when two people are just left to their own devices in a big old empty house and nothing much to see or do. 

Not going to lie I did enjoy it, but I soon found niggles that eventually if given time and the lack of space would burrow into my sole with the drive to constantly get on my tits! Like the way that Mr. Warehouse will do stuff he is not suppose to be doing even though you have asked him a trillion and one times not to. Or the way that Mr. Warehouse leaves his shit lying around. Even the way that my dearest Mr. Warehouse butters his toast before adding in a condiment like jam or spread can easily burn on my wick if I am already in a foul-arse mood. 

You see the thing is that when you live by yourself, and, single ladies you know what I mean - Its not the way that someone is around you, its the fact that sometimes you just cant be your true self. You can't always frog it in boy-boxers watching 'Jeremy Kyle' eating a whole pack of Pink Wafers to yourself and realising that the itchy thing on you bottom was just a rogue Sugar Puff from earlier. Nor can you fart loudly, laugh and be outwardly proud of such an expression because you are a lady whom should not do things like that, let alone still be sniggering about it twenty-minutes later. And alas you cannot leave rubbish everywhere with the intent that one day you will pick it up. Ahh yes! The joy's of living alone. 

But don't get me wrong an extra pair of hands can be useful, especially if you live on the top floor apartment with zero lifts. Carrying the shopping up stairs, taking out the rubbish and generally helping out around the place can be a huge help and beneficial to both parties in the long run. I suppose this week's post really started last week when Mr. Warehouse and I were out with my father and his girlfriend for Daddies birthday dinner and in true squaddie style my Dad just blurts out - "So when are you moving in with my Daughter!"

Gob-smacked and totally taken aback by the phrase let alone the idea I jumped in before anyone else had a chance to open their trappy little beaks and reiterated as I had done many times before that Mr. Warehouse was not moving in, not now and not any time in the foreseeable future. I enjoy my freedom. Its the only thing I really have left. I'm not single any more so instead I have my flat when I can grunge out for a whole weekend only venturing to the outside world in order to buy bread and milk.  can be myself in those tiny little slanted walls of my penthouse one-bed. Don't get me wrong I have thought about it, even looking into the possibility of moving somewhere bigger in a few years time to accommodate such a growing and developing relationship. Yes. I suppose the idea in the future is a good one but right now ... Certainly not! 

I mean where in my telescopic flat would his boy 'stuff' go?! The Xbox that is hardly works and even then never used yet held onto as the last claim to being a young man. The never-ending pile of dirty laundry that will inevitably be picked up by me, an ongoing sock vs. pants issue. Pointless letters, papers, payslips and rubbish strewn everywhere. Hmm, yes, not my idea of homely bliss. But then again if you asked Mr. Warehouse I am sure that he would say the same - A continuous stream of washing up, food that is slightly fluffy in the fridge and scatter cushions everywhere! 

In my flat right now their is barely enough room for me and my amazing personality let alone two, and whilst I like the idea that one day I will be a big girl with my own home and garden, I have to realise that it wont come along unless I suck it up and accept sharing. After all isn't that something that our parents all taught us. Yes that pile of washing looks a chore but when two people do it together and work through some of the things that happened in their days making small talk it will be done in next to no time! I don't know, I suppose after popping over to Mr. Warehouse's Brothers (Whose Fiancée is the same age as me!) new House it made me slightly Home-Broody. I think as I sat on their sofa in the three story town house I realised if I want to one day own my own home then I will need to get a shifty on and start saving. But that is light-years away, right now I am happy being the Queen of my own (rented) Palace and I am in no mood of down-grading any time soon, especially after the last time I moved in with someone!

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

Halloween Sparty

Morning All, 

I hope you are all well and dandy. I know I am, especially after the weekend I have had! Now after last week's entry I felt again a little unstable as to what, why and how of my blossoming romance with said Mr. Cheese, although I know that when the time is right maybe things will finally be planted in the pot to grow and nurture. In the mean time though I might as well carry on living my life as a half-single twenty-something; partying, hanging out with friends and family, enjoying life and seeing whats on offer. 

All week at work was a slog as usual, consisting of some very, very slow days. These however were eased by banter filled emails from my Tweedles and Mr. Cheese from their own offices across the country. Finally though Friday had arrived and as work colleagues diminished by the hours it was finally the clock hit home time. As I hitched a lift home from another work buddy I contemplated my evening ahead but most importantly what I was going to wear! Now as it has been that time of year again for most places in the world, especially the States; Halloween has been very much on my mind since me and Miss Chocolate agreed to a night out to celebrate. Dress code: Fancy dress!

So as I pottered about the flat, organising my outfit and planning my beauty schedule I couldn't help think about some of the words of wisdom have been for my first night out after things have started getting serious between me and Mr. Cheese. To be honest I have morals and whilst everyone might not agree with them they are mine and I stick by them. The phrases 'what someone doesn't know wont hurt them' and 'logically your still single so anything goes' are a frequent topic of conversation amongst my friends and I when the subject does arise and I must say that I suppose in some respect's; I agree. Whilst I have not been seeing anyone else since meeting Mr. Cheese, I suppose in a sense there is nothing stopping me from doing so, apart from the fact that I was brought me up better than that and am a very faithful, loyal and trustworthy girl. Now I am not saying that in any way it is OK to cheat as it were but the fact is that we are not in a concrete relationship means that I suppose the rules could be bent if Mr. Cheese and I wanted to bend them. I mean if the tables were turned and something happened on Mr. Cheese's side, be it a kiss or a full blown orgy, then yes of course I would be upset, but at the end of the day Mr. Cheese and I are not fully exclusive (yet) so I would really have no grounds to stand on. It would be very hypocritical to have two people playing the same game but by different rules. Regardless of all this I pushed aside my minuscule worries of round-about-infidelity to the back of my mind and donned my Little Red Riding Costume including cute pig tails, blackened Halloween eyes and wolf claw scratches I headed for the station.

Upon meeting Miss Chocolate in my hometown I realised I was possibly overdressed for the occasion. With fake blood smeared across her face and a full outfit of black topped off with a sheer white blouse I knew something had gone wrong with the school girl idea. The reason. Boobs! Apparently some people are very sadly well endowed and this means that certain items of clothing do not do up. Mainly that shirt. Unfortunately this is not the plight I have with my small to average C-Cup breasticles. Heading into the pub however the punters didn't seem to care as mouths dropped and eyes were adverted towards us. Or at least that's how it plays out in my head as I write tonight. Grabbing some drinks and necking some shots and bombs we discussed men and how much they aggravate us sometimes. As the music bounced on so did we and onto the second venue of the night. 

Heading into the small, dark alternative club under the speed-way I could see Miss Chocolate would not enjoy her experience here, whilst I however felt at home and at ease with the company in there. Among the party-goers were vampires, werewolves, zombies and bloodied people although there were some very out-there costumes. After a few moments adjusting to the atmosphere I noticed a horror movie puppet, a clown (very scary), a viking and a pirate. Throughout the female population there were broken creepy dolls, brides, nurses, skeletons, maids and cheerleaders - All dead of course. As we went to the bar to get some drinks Miss Chocolate and I made our first friends of the evening, someone named after a brand of chocolate whom I had met there before and another gentleman who looked very much like an Ex of mine whose profession lied within agriculture. Well OK, he was a farmer. 

As we clinked our glasses and toasted to being somewhat single, our newly acquired male friends looked on in awe as we slipped the smooth and fruity cocktail down our throats. High-fiving for a reason I cannot recall we sat and I struck upon with the farmer-doppelganger. He had come as a Zombie although I was not fully convinced he had made as much effort as myself. Mr. Zombie seemed nice enough and after he finished his own drink he bought me one. Smiling and saying a polite 'thank you' we headed back to Miss Chocolate who was perched on a stool not looking very impressed at the growing club of scary costumed people. As conversation progressed I soon realised that Mr. Zombie and I had nothing in common. And he laughed like Santa. And so for that reason, and the fact Miss Chocolate had bartered the time we would spend at venue number two, we left but not before I was awkwardly serenaded by Mr. Zombie to a song that spoke of being 'broken' and not being able to 'feel emotion'. Yes. I had to leave. And as Miss Chocolate and I scurried away I knew that although the night had only began, I certainly knew that Little Red Riding Hood's woodcutter was not nearby. Possibly in the Midlands?!

The following morning I woke in my own bed and still dressed in what I went out in. Little Red was feeling nearly dead with tiredness. Nevertheless I got up and dressed, tidied up and left for my spa day with Miss Tweedle-Dumb, Miss Tweedle-Dee and Miss Stuu. We had wittingly called this occasion a Sparty! Although as myself and Miss Tweedle-Dee found out it was not very Sparty when you nearly sit on someone in the steam room for fault of it being too steamy! The only way we could identify said individual from the fixtures and fitting was the sheer fact that I thought ''Oooh, that bench has legs ... Oh wait! Oops!'' Indeed this could have quiet easily been an awful faux pas, but that was not the only calamity at our Sparty for Miss Stuu and I got alot closer than intended. 

Walking into our treatment room dressed in a bikini, soft fluffy robe and slippers, Miss Stuu and I were excited to be rubbed down with aromatic oils and creams to make our skin feel silky smooth and releasing all our tensions of the world. Unfortunately or fortunately my masseuse was not called Chantelle. The two massage ladies asked us to remove our pool soaked swimwear and pop on what was handed to us in a little plastic pouch. Instantly I knew what it was. Yes, there was no mistaking it as Miss Stuu looked at me in horror we agreed that these were paper panties. removing them from the packaging we giggled and laughed at the ridiculousness of them and without hesitation I stripped off to wriggle into my new briefs. And Brief they were indeed. They barely covered my biscuit and Miss Stuu had trouble keeping hers from falling down. In between fits of laughter and a shocked paper-pantie daze I hadn't noticed that the spa girls were getting impatient outside and suddenly opened the door to our treatment room where both myself and Miss Stuu were fully naked apart from our thin underwear. After apologising and shutting the door swiftly I laughed as I hopped onto the massage bed and stuck my head in the doughnut hole while Miss Stuu sheepishly followed. Safe to say that it was very relaxing and paper pants I could get used to. Although on cringe-scale I doubt this tops the Tweedles experience whereby Miss Tweedle-Dumb fell asleep she was so relaxed ended up snoring and then farted and woke herself up all the while Miss Tweedle-Dee on the other hand died of embarrassment. Sometimes you really have to question the utter brilliance of your friends!

And so that was my weekend. Sunday was relaxing as I spent it with family visiting my Grandad in hospital whilst he recovers from major heart surgery. Thankfully he pulled through and is now on the mend. Get better soon  G-Dog! As for this week nothing special is planned, except from maybe a surprise visit to London to see a certain kind of Cheese!

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx