School is far from out for Summer

Afternoon All, 

As we approach our 11th week in lockdown I am drained. I am done with all of this pussyfooting around, queueing for this and queueing for that. I am done with it all. Not only am I exhausted but I still feel burnt out and whilst have been furloughed or signed off sick (whichever it may be), the last few weeks had been mentally taxing and taking a toll on me workwise.  

I suppose you could say I am at the end of my tether with it. It is all just so pointless. Figures from the BBC this evening state that whilst the confirmed new cases of coronavirus in the UK stand at over a quarter of a million, the death toll has significantly dropped to just 111 today alone (Monday 01 June 2020), down ten on last week. And I know what you are thinking, Ten doesn't seem like a lot to drop by in a week, but it is still a drop as we have not yet experienced an unsettlingly high spike in deaths or new cases as yet. This being said, however, Boris Johnson has yet to make an announcement of further openings. 

Today saw the first few schools open since lockdown began back in March. The BBC reported today that Headteachers are reporting "highly variable" levels of attendance, ranging from 40% to 70%, as primary schools in England bring back more pupils. The article explained the procedure in which the government has deemed it safe for children in Reception (4-5 year olds), Years 1 (5-6 year olds) and Years 6 (10-11 year olds) to be allowed back to school as some of the first groups able to return. But this isn't the case for all children as during the lockdown there have been some schools which have remained open throughout the coronavirus restrictions for the children of key workers and vulnerable children. 

It seems reading through the article further, that locally it appears to be a bit of a mixed bag, with not all schools either open or bringing back pupils as outlined in the government's plans with some local authorities not yet bringing back more pupils due to limited space, training and also that like the rest of us, not all staff are available due to sickness or shielding. But I can sympathise with parents and carers. I am not sure, had the shoe been on the other foot, I would be rushing to send my kids back into an environment which I could not guarantee was 100% safe. The information provided seems obscure and the contradictory information is frustrating - I am allowed to take my child to school and should be encouraged for doing so, however, I am not allowed to take them to get their hair cut or buy new school shoes? It just seems absurd, and that is before you look at the new rules children are forced to follow. 

One post on Facebook from a Headteacher somewhere up further North than Bedfordshire detailed outlines for all desks to be front-facing, dedicated circles or squares in the playground in which to play in alone and pupils only allowed a set time for toilet breaks and no others in-between, despite some of them being only barely out of nappie (although that is another blog post entirely) which would be really difficult for a little person to do. When you got to go, you got to go. 

Also within this letter to parents, the school stated that no lunchboxes, bags or stationery can be brought into school and that all uniforms or clothes must be washed every night to avoid contamination. But the most heartbreaking thing I read (other than the fact that all plush toys and soft furnishing had been band from classrooms) that should a child fall over and hurt themselves, have a toilet accident or be physically sick on themselves then they will be instructed, from afar and by a member of staff, on how to clean themselves up and how to dress a cut or graze.  

If that cannot be achieved then a parent will have to be called, seemingly defeating the whole "get back to work" thing the government has been banging on about all this time. Just disgraceful and honestly this will be harming children more than staying at home. I mean I don't want to downgrade what early-years teachers do as it is an incredible job, but surely this stuff can be taught to kids by their parents and avoid all of this trauma and upset. Besides, what kids will learn now in the next six-weeks weeks will all be long forgotten come September when schools resume properly (fingers crossed). 

I don't know, to me it makes no sense. Sure send back the over-12's. They have SAT's (another thing I don't agree with) and teens who sit exams next year for GCSE and A-Levels, but not little ones. They barely know personal space with mom and dad let alone with their little friend they haven't seen in not just weeks but maybe even months. Teens and Pre-Teens can social distance, something I know for a fact that a toddler will struggle with, not to mention trying to pull themselves together enough to put a plaster on it when all they really want is a cuddle and to be told it is all going to be alright, although right now I think we all need a bit of that. 

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

Blast From The Past!

Hello there, 


Sushi. Is. Life. After the past year maybe of eating shop faux Sushi made from a combination of chicken and seafood, I have finally made the leap to a mainstream sushi bar. Yo! Sushi in Milton Keynes is I am sure probably farthest from genuine and authentic and Asian or Japanese influenced cuisine, however without the luxury of the big smoke to indulge my curiosities in I was forced to seek out as close to the real thing as I can get my little mitts on, Cali-rolls and Spice-Tuna-Things for the win! 

To say that I thoroughly enjoyed seeing Miss Tweedle-Dee and it was good to try new things whilst doing my favourite thing with my wages and in my preferred method or socialising, eating out. I am not quite sure what made me feel so good about sushi and hanging out with my best friend - Maybe it was the delight of combining my two favourite things or maybe it was the fact that I was feeling much better in myself. A a good catch up and long chat about anything and everything life had to offer us at the moment was certainly what I needed. Whilst my counselling and therapy has stopped for the short time whilst I am between therapists and Private Vs. NHS, I am taking my medication which seems to be doing it's job. 

Not long before we finished our meal and headed home I approach the subject that I had been wanting to bring up for a while. I felt as though my Tweedles were about the only people I could talk openly and honestly about how I felt without being judged or criticised. Not even Mr. Warehouse would understand I think?! You see waaay back in the days of short pleated school skirts and thick black eyeliner, there was one of the first Mr's in my life. Mr. Woof. Now let me introduce Mr. Woof to you all, (unless you have been reading along since the beginning and then you will already know who Mr. Woof well and truly is from the Viewer Discretion / NSFW earlier days of writing). 

Mr. Woof and I had been friends since meeting in the second year of High School and pretty much as soon as we met our liaisons began. In class and the playground, Mr. Woof was quite shy when it came to being in 'public' as it were with me, even being seen around each other was a no-no, but away from it all and what I used to refer to as the "spotlight" he was a completely different person, almost caring or even loving in a way, something that was never shown when around others. As we got older the intensity was stepped up with more secret meets at lunch and break, soon progressing to after school and even into our Saturday morning GCSE revision classes. But the more we played with each other, both metaphorically and emotionally the more I suffered. The double life we both lead between not talking to each other and almost bullying each other whilst in the company of friends and others was a stark comparison to the electricity we shared alone. But I knew what I was doing, course I did, any sixteen year old does. It was fun and I enjoyed the secrecy of it all. The secret little affair with the boy who I had a stupidly major crush on for ages and who was dating one of my closest school friends. Yeah, I definitely thought I knew it all (and probably still do) thinking that it will all be so different when we leave High School and go to Sixth Form or College, we can finally be together! Haha what a fool ... 

After school ended we went our separate ways, developed as people and went into study. I went on to have several partners, settling down with a few serious ones who loved me no matter the company we were in. Whereas Mr. Woof attempted university, dropped out only to discovered drink and drugs all the while continuing to think that his rock band would become the next big thing. Over the years he turned into something of a misogynistic womaniser and was well known for being a Harlequin around town. Nevertheless though Mr. Woof made an appearance throughout my love-life, weather I was with someone or not, however it must be noted that none of my ex-partners ever took a liking to him and we were always strictly friends when I was in a relationship as being faithful has always been something I fiercely uphold after some hiccups in my earlier years of teenage-living and my fathers betrayal. 

Mr. Woof and I had lost contact for a while after Mr. Workaholic had banned me from communicating with him, but got back in touch a few months after we split. It started as it always had and at that moment the friendly voice of someone familiar was just what I craved. At the time I was amidst a messy break-up Miss Tweedle-Dee handed me the trilogy of books by E. L James; 'Fifty Shades of Grey', 'Fifty Shades Darker' and 'Fifty Shades Freed'. I. Was. Hooked. I couldn't put them down, like everyone I suppose. I decided then to embark on something of my own contract. We had come a long way from my Teenage Dreams Days and so after getting back in contact, Mr. Woof and I began another momentary lapse of loosing our inhibitions and giving into our lustfulness for something we knew so well. Only this time I had some level of control. I had just come out of a long term relationship and wanted something intimate, exciting and confidence boosting. Something NSA to make me smile and brighten up my otherwise gloomy days. I suppose in a sense he was the rebound?! When I talk about it like that it seems as though Mr. Woof was using me to the highest of advantages; abusing the trust and vulnerability of an old friend who was dealing with heartbreak. But I was as much to blame in that as he was. I wanted and needed attention.  I was lacking it both in my job as well as socially as friends and family who lived far from my door. I needed a little something I could dip into as and when I wanted and we weren't hurting anyone. 

After sometime however the novelty soon wore off and we again drifted apart, not through Malice or animosity but simply due to life moving off. Over the next few years of difficult dating dilemmas and finally finding someone I really care about I will be honest and say that I thought about Mr Woof less and less. Until that is the other day when I stumbled across an old social media page. I had seen his profile picture and was intrigued to see what he was up to and we had both changed. I knew that he had got married and settle down with some plain-Jane type. I was certainly not prepared for what was to come. 

Clicking the pages on his social media I discovered that not only had he propose and dedicated his life in marriage, but that he now had a child. Knocking me sideways I was taken aback. I don't know, it is not that I am jealous of his wife and young family, far from it and if anything I am glad that he has found his calling in life as a Dad. Maybe it was the fact that in all of our time together, on or off, we had never discussed marriage or kids, even if the intention was not each other. Then again he is a man and they do not tend to discuss marriage for kids as women do. It is just a little surreal for me to think that someone I thought would never even get married or settle down with anyone is now a father and husband. Oh how things change I suppose. 

It has been playing on my mind a lot over the last few days since finding out last week and I just can't put my finger on it. But as I explained in depth and detail, more than I have here to you, Miss Tweedle-Dee looked at me with a strange expression played across her face as the sushi Carousel continue unknowingly. She didn't need to tell me twice that I was sounding weird and creepy. I came away from our short and brief conversation about Mr. Woof and his family with a heaviness in my heart knowing that time is inevitably ticking along and will soon catch up with me if I am not careful and seeing someone I knew happy makes me feel a little weird about adulting now in the real world. Ahhh someone take me back to the simpler days of Emo bands, short pleated school skirts and thick black eyeliner! 

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

Depp Is A Way of Life!

Hello one and all, 

As Miss Tweedle-Dee and Miss Tweedle-Dumb sat on my sofa I listened intently to my childhood being read out in a technicolour of smelly gel pens and biro. It was funny to look back and realize just how warped myself and my best friends were back in the day. And so it continued into the afternoon listening to the letters that were sent to and from each other, silly poems and made up stories about Johnny Depp. 

Speaking of the fellow, I still have hidden somewhere in the depths under my bed a ring-binder full of fan fiction stories written about Johnny Depp and the myriad of characters he played over the years. Romantic novels almost and crime fighting tales, drug deals and passion a plenty. I must say though that some of the visions and creative writing that took place on these online forums was very graphic, even for a twenty-something reading them for the first time in more than a decade. Some stories touched on the most taboo of subjects whilst others are bordering a film script. 

Beautiful as they were it was a time where things were much less complicated, or so we all thought. Alas I wonder and dream of the days back in middle school where all you really had to worry about was what you were seeing at the cinema that weekend or how long you had to plan your outfit for the next Mufti Day. As a pre-teen, I was completely oblivious to the complicated and stressful big wide world that I would one day be a part of. No bills. No car. No Job. Heaven! Never did I have to fret about not being able to make ends meet on a minimum wage job that my government says I should be living just fine on. Nor did I have to concern myself with rental prices or how I would ever, ever even get a peek inside the home-ownership door. In my young naive I suppose I just thought that it would all comes naturally to me - I go to school, I get good grades. I go to college, I get good qualifications. I go to Uni, I gain a degree. I get a job, I buy a house. I meet a guy and we fall in love forever. Life isn't fairy-tale and unfortunately I can see what my teachers meant when they described me as a "pie-in-the-sky dreamer"

At school I was never a realist, always choosing to opt for the books and fiction over the cold hard facts of the classroom. Maybe that's why I feel so robbed of a adult life? Maybe this is why I feel like adulting is way worse than what I imagined it feeling and being like. Even now I see myself just simply drifting off into my own little world, imagining home ownership or my trip to DisneyWorld or a Holiday to the Caribbean. I am glad for Mr. Warehouse sometimes for he always is there to catch me and my ballooning ideas when they catch a bit too much wind, forever ready to bring me back down to earth. 

Anyhoo, back to the brighter side of me - My Friends. The amount of letters we would send each other, talking about all things from love and boys to willies, sex and how we all knew everything there was to ever know about the subjects. It's funny to look back and read what we thought was true about life and the world form just a few sex-ed videos. And as creative as we were with words I am sure that if I caught my daughter, or son for that matter, talking and reading and watching the material we were I would be very concerned. In the days before Internet, teenage girls like us got our kicks from online forums, chat-rooms and good old trading out. I recall the days where Miss Tweedle-Dee, Miss Tweedle-Dumb and I would almost weekly jam the printer in the school library because we got caught printing too many erotic fan fictions or reams of pointless Johnny Depp pictures to drool over, only for the weekend to come so we could stay-up late at sleepovers and watch the adult channels when the parents had gone to bed. 

I suppose in a way some of the things I wrote poems about and spoke about was a way of just expressing myself and at a time where in school it is so awful to be different and all the drama that surrounds being a pre-teen and a girl, I was certainly glad to have two wacko's joining me on the discovery into women-hood, even if we did stretch the rules - Then again, nothing has changed much, we're still all trying to test one another. But I suppose that is just part of growing up, and I wouldn't want anyone else beside me to do it with!

'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

A Little Less Sixteen Candles, A Little More Nostalgia!

Hello Dear's, 

So after last week, sunning it up in the not-so-party-town of Kavos on the Greek island of Corfu I am glad to be back in the swing of things here at home in England. I have settled back into reality nicely and with the build up to Christmas well on its way I am excited more than ever for what the coming weeks are going to be bringing me in terms of socialising and fun-times. 

Although last week was a chance for me to indulge myself in music with friends, Miss Tweedle-Dee and Miss Tweedle-Dumb. A chance to escape back to the days of school, exams and secret rendezvous with class mates after the bell had rung! Back to the days before rent was due and my desk was seeing more of me than my little flat. Back then the walls of my bedroom were plastered with posters of Indie boy bands and "Emo" musicians. I was a fully fledged "Emo" with long hair, blacked eyes and a taste for the dark side. One band that adorned my bedroom and many a front cover of school text books was a band called Fall Out Boy. Now you have been warned, this is me going into full blown fan-girl mode, so watch out!

So ... Super hot cutie, Patrick Stump, heads up the band and has been playing the role commonly known as Fat-Pat (or at least in my friend circle) since before I became obsessed with them in 2007/2008. Also in the band is Penis-show-off, Pete Wentz (Penis Picture can be seen here for those that did not get enough of it last time). Other Fall Out Boy members also include that awesome drummer, Andy Hurley, who looks strangely like my first boyfriend Mr. Ginge and not to forget Tim Burton Wanna-Be, Guitarist Joe Trohman (the resemblance is uncanny). They were formed back in America somewhere probably when I was still running around with my hair in pigtails and singing something by Aqua. 

Several years later I find myself singing the lyrics to songs I just knew were written for me and my teenage angsty love affairs with boys who never noticed me. Those albums and songs bonded me and my father in a united passion of rock and punk as he also had a love of the dark side, and with bands such as Green Day and ACDC playing a role in my Dad's life growing up, they also formed a part of mine. But were a misunderstood bunch us Emo, Scene-Kid, Goth, and many other variants are all seen in the same line as freaks and outcasts from society, at least that's how I saw and felt it back in school. My friend circle back then was a mixture of all sorts of young people that didn't fit into the normal stereotypes of school - The Geeks, The Jocks, The Preps, The Populars. I and my friends were none of those. So we took ahold of a small bit of land near the library and called ourselves The Unwanted. 

Nevertheless I grew up from those days with a clear outline of what I wanted from life but more importantly who I was and who I am inside. I am a rock chick through and through and when faced with any opportunity of going out on the town, even to this very day, I don a thick black smokey eye. So I suppose music did in a way shape my future as well as my past and the band called Fall Out Boy was a massive part of it. So of course I was over the moon and back with joy when I found out that my girlie's, Miss Tweedle-Dee and Miss Tweedle-Dumb had not only bought me tickets to go and see Dreamboys (this coming Friday and to be widely discussed next week) but also tickets to see my beloved Fall Out Boy. 

Belting out the lyrics to Sugar Were Going Down and Dance Dance, standing in an extremely hot and sweaty Wembley Arena next to my best-est friends in the whole wide world I knew that I had grown up a lot since the last time I saw Fall Out Boy live. Much had happened since the last time I had seen there face as again part of special birthday outing. But this time I felt much older than some of the other teeny-bops there. Which got me wondering ... Should I hang up the fingerless leather gloves and throw dinner parties instead of heading out out? Naah!

'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 ... 

---

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!

---

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

A Smile Is The Best Fashion Accessory!

Afternoon, 

So after last weeks torturous and slightly S&M evening with Mr. Masseuse (No Pain, No Gain! - If you haven't read it you need to .. Its Hilarious!!!) I was glad of a somewhat mundane week at work with an uneventful weekend to follow. 

I was not however looking forward to the dentists appointment though. Several weeks ago I had gone for my first check up in over seven-years since I left school, aged sixteen. Terrified as a child after having some surgery and not being given enough drugs to knock me the fuck out I woke half way through the procedure and with eyes flashing wildly to gain the attention of the dental staff I was otherwise paralysed, forced to watch and feel as they drilled and burrowed into my tiny mouth. 

Another reason why I was so frightened of the Dentist as a teen was mainly because the appointments always seemed to crop up on a Wednesday or a Thursday - The days I used to finish school early and meet the boys after school for some more "advance classes" and "extra tuition" if you follow my drift. So scared I was of getting caught in the act I would rush home after one of these "sessions" and brush my teeth in a bid to rid my mouth of any evidence. I don't know why. I was like fifteen and thought that the Dentist would peer into my mouth and turn to my mother and say 
"I am sorry but it looks like your daughter has been sucking dick. What do you propose we do with this then, Hmm?" Genuinely scared, even as I sat in the scary leany-backy chair that they would look at my pearly whites and see residue of something that shouldn't have been there. It humoured me slightly to think that when I was lying in a similar chair on Saturday Morning. 

Preparing myself I had already called the surgery in advance and asked about the procedure and what would happen, what would be done and what I should bring. Of course I knew all the answers myself and in all honesty could have easily saved not only my time and lunch break but also my dignity, especially when I asked if someone could come in and hold my hand. And yes, just to remind you I will be twenty-four in nearly a months time! 

Saturday morning I awoke and rolled over to a bemused Mr. Warehouse. 
"What exactly is so funny?" I asked croakily through tousled bed hair and blurred vision. 
"Today is the day!" Mr. Warehouse chirped and after asking what he was on about a shuddering noise rang through me, knocking out any hope of a cheeky lye-in. It was Mr. Warehouse - Making drilling noises and humming the Jaws theme tune. And as he nonchalantly laughed off his lad-ish "banter" I secretly made a mental note not to place anything in long and hard in my mouth other than a toothbrush before 9am. 

Getting up and dressed I bought time by Googling pointless things of interest like Puppies and John Wayne Gacy paintings (If you haven't seen them or even know who he is then I give you permission to seek out your inner sicko and Google this man and his heinous crimes) - Yes I have a fluctuating mindset sometimes. Nevertheless it was soon time to leave but as I made my way out of my flat, followed shortly by Mr. Warehouse I was yet again greeted by the deathly hum's growling form Mr. Warehouse's voice box, of which I was very close to ripping out. He was not very nice to me that day!

Arriving at the surgery, again like the last time I visited it was baking hot and I was thankful for the empty waiting room and friendly receptionist. Unlike last time I came for a check up, whereby I was over forty-minutes early because Mr. Warehouse had rushed me out the door, I only had a few moments to wait before I was called for. And so, up the wooden staircase I ascended, dramatically thinking as I always do that I may never return and I somehow may meet my death in a Sweeney Todd Style Murder a la Dental Practise. But as soon as I walked into the room and was greeted with the same, slightly foreign and overly-made-up dentist I was at ease - slightly!?

As the chair reclined once more I opened my mouth wide and stuck in my headphones with a preplanned playlist consisting of mostly club but certainly all loud songs ranging from guilty pleasure hit "Don't Call Me Baby - Madison Avenue" to the 2003 smash "Milkshake - Kelis" and even a new favourite of mine "Gimme Head - Shystie" which is vocally, erm, interesting, but more importantly would definitely take my mind of Miss Tooth-Decay drilling away in my moush. But as I felt the prickly jab of the needle going into my gums, flooding my mouth with local anaesthetic, I tried to relax. Liking the fact I had already put together a compilation of my favourite tunes for my impending doom at the Dental Surgery. I even got a chance to relax enough to tap my toes to a few beats. I had somewhat even started to enjoy the drilling sensation and started to play silly games like running away from the mini-sucky-thing they use! 

But before I had even got a chance to get to some of the better song on my playlist of pleasantness the chair was re-clining back up to an upright position. Taking my headphones off my ear holes I asked if that was it. My kind Dentist friend nodded and went on to say how well I did. "I wonder if I am going to get one of those overly-sized stickers for being such a good girl today?" I thought to myself as I listened to her saying something about flossing more. Woozy from the injections and sudden, unexpected right-angle position I found myself in I exclaimed that I felt like a cat, feeling my swollen face and cheeks, checking that I didn't in fact look like a balloon. Thanking my Dentist and nurse I exited the room and descended the stairs, without the body bag and still very much alive. As I turned into the main staircase there he was, Mr. Warehouse, waiting patiently for me with a concerned yet proud look on his face. I knew he had not been there for the full time I had been in but I appreciated the little white lie he told me, despite not being able to uphold it later on when questioned. I made an appointment for February next year and promised to see them soon. I don't know if I will go in six months for sure, but rest assured I am slightly less scared of the Dentist, although I am not fully cured. I will now be on my way to alleviate any more worry and have a giggle by Googling tooth fetishes and dental depravities. Good Night Mon Frere's!

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx