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

The Premature Christmas Ejaculate Post!

Hello Dears,

Christmas is always a stress most years and always full of important questions that need answering. Who do we visit on what days, when do we serve turkey dinner, has Grandma had enough to drink yet and why is Auntie Rosie bringing her new boyfriend of six-days along to the festivities (He hasn't even got a job or brought me a present). But this year, unlike others where I have had to buy presents for people that are slightly more older than Thomas the Tank Engine and Peppa Pig. I have had to buy presents for little people and with little or no guidance. I mean yes obviously I have had three little boys to buy for, although they are not so little now and are probably expecting an Xbox or PlayStation from their big cousin rather than the usual pyjamas or a cosy hoodie. They were easy. I didn't really have to somewhat impress their parents because we were all family and like it or not tough shit we're all related so there is no real getting out of it. But this year it matters ... 

Now I haven't gone overboard on the whole present buying this year. Well OK maybe I have, spending more than double what I did this year on almost the same amount of people. Although there are a few people whose presents are costing more, but I feel that when there little fat faces light up on Christmas morning, it will all be worth it in the end - Especially what I have planned! 

Every year I seem to go over the top not only on spending but also on the excitement levels and whilst normally I can hold out until late November in regards to the excitement levels I have already peaked I feel and the Coca-Cola Lorry hasn't even arrived yet! I think this year, because (obviously) I know what all my loved ones are getting from me I am already excited with the prospect of them opening what will be a wonderful present (if I do say so myself) but also because when you are as thoughtful and as bored on your commute as I am you Internet shop your orders from far an wide. I know that pretty much from end of October, up until a couple of days before the big day there will be post for me every single day. The post lady used to love me at work and always used to say that if I carried on I would be charged a handling fee. Luckily for me that's now my duties in the office so I have the luxury of collecting my own parcels of loveliness. 

And that is the other thing! I love on-line shopping because not only do you have the thrill of trying to outbid "TonyKitKat1978" for a vintage Alice in Wonderland Teacup and Saucer Set on eBay, but you then have the excitement of it arriving a few days later and un-packaging it, only to re-wrap it in an equally vintage fashioned paper and big bow, ready to see the Christmas Fairy's face when she opens it and it blows her mind at how good you are for buying presents. FYI- that Alice in Wonderland Teacup and Saucer Set is actually on my Christmas List so if you wanna treat me at this special time of year then do so - Many thanks!

What I have also realised is just how much children's toys are!? I mean seriously?! Twenty or thirty quid seems a bit much but manageable for a small person who may play with it a number of times but as I walked past the shelves I saw forties, fifties, sixties, seventies. I mean why on gods given earth with all its trees to climb, lakes to push water-phobic friends into and fields to run around in would you buy little Danny, the jumped up four-year old pre-teen from Solihull already shoplifting from the local Nisa, a overly priced piece of plastic in the shape of Superman, Starwars or Spongebob Squarepants. All that was about when I walked into a local store last week was toys, toys, toys! Oh and more toys! And whilst it was mostly non-educational junk for boys centred around fighting, cars, army, robots or a TV/Film character; The girls section was far worse than I imagined it to be. 

Row after row after row of pink this and flowers that. It made me wanna be sick and I had a vagina! All the little girls toys were about was playing dress-up, being pretty, caring for animals, cleaning and cooking and pretending to do everything a little 1950's housewife would do. There were plenty of pretty dresses and princess costumes but hardly any doctors, vets, lawyers or teachers pretend dress-up. I felt sorry for the youth of today, constantly having their mothers, sisters and aunties drip fed this crap about having to be a girl and do this and do that, to find a man, do the washing and learn to make a sandwich. It was wrong. Girls should be able to do whatever they like and so should little boys. Does anyone really care if little Matilda wanted a science set and a lab coat for her Christmas present rather than My Little Pony Shits-alot! Why? I just don't get it? Maybe it is because I haven't had my own little darlings yet and when I do I will pay the price for a light up Disney Princess Sing-along and scream doll for £89.95 just to keep up with The Jones and to keep her quiet on Christmas day. I mean what ever happened to a couple of books and a orange in the stocking?

When I was little I am glad to say that the Internet was a baby itself and technology as I know it at twenty-four was not in dreams yet let alone existence. This forced me into the sublime serenity of my childhood bedroom where I would spend whole weekends playing in my dolls house creating dramatic scenes that even Eastenders would find challenging. I would also be found in the summer months making mud pies out of dirt and grass with the desperate effort to make my little brother eat them. A few times he did, but then I was told not to make mud pies again. I still made mud pies I just flung them at my lil' bro instead. I had a crystal making set when I was old enough and I have fond memoirs of me and my Daddy trying against all odds to make salt and sugar crystals, coming down every Sunday morning to check if anything had grown. 

This is what shaped me and I find it so sad now-days when kids just want to sit and watch a TV show or play a game on a games console or tablet rather than go outdoors and play and imagine. I sometimes wonder what it will do to them socially. In years to come will we just be expected to WhatsApp and Facetime rather than actually meet up. Will people, grown-ups, children, not have the imagination I had as a child? This makes me sad. Which means that I refuse to buy anything nonsensical for the children on my Christmas shopping list. My own children one day will not be Amish, they will have mod-cons such as games consoles, computers and smartphones (when they are old enough) but they will be limited, as will TV. I will allow their minds to be broadened by themselves, to explore, to have adventures and that at the end of the day when I snuggle them up in bed they can tell me the story that even I wouldn't be so crazy as to dream up ... 

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx