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Afternoon One and All,
So this weekend was an inciting one with much to do and see. Also something unexpected and so out-of-the-blue even I didn't see it coming. But maybe that is how it was planned. Unplanned! Well whatever planning or un-planning went into the act it certainly gave me a skip in my step this morning and made my commute back home to my job in Bedford all the more better and as I write to you from the train hurtling through the English countryside I am smiling, conscience that this may not be anything of huge magnitude, but to me it is. Early morning Starbucks did help though!
Friday night I had my favourite people round, Miss Tweedle-Dumb and Miss Tweedle-Dee and amongst idle chit-chat we discussed the more important things in life like having banana's for hands and indeed spelling the word banana, which at nearly quarter-to-midnight I was failing to do without the help of my academic side-kicks! After ordering pizza delivery from Domino's we decided to escape for a cheeky cigarette. Whilst we awaited the man with our order we took to talks of weddings and other such girlie stuff. Using the pavement as a aisle we joked about what we would do and how hilarious it would all be. As Miss Bride's wedding approaches in the coming weeks, I look forward to a time whereby my friends and I shall also join the club of marriage and leave behind Singlesville with all its meals-for-one and empty beds. Yes, instead we shall swap lives so that we can bicker about directions and only have sex once a week. Oh Joy! The part of my evening with Miss Tweedle-Dumb and Miss Tweedle-Dee that I enjoyed the most was the prospective speeches that were to be projected at my celebration as a Missus. Stories of years gone by including the time I got so sun-burnt I threw up every time I looked at myself, the time I decided to go blonde and ended up looking like 'Big Bird' from Sesame Street and that time where I threw a tantrum in a Spanish shopping mall because no one would come and look at the bag I wanted to buy. Incidentally in that case Miss Tweedle-Dee did come and look at the handbag with me but resulting in no purchase - I was too pissed off. And so I look forward to the day whereby I don't only become someones wife and forever, but I also am blessed with friend's like these whom share in my every moment, no matter how awkward or embarrassing. Thanks Guys!
After a potter round town on Saturday afternoon I hopped on the train to meet Mr. Cheese from his volunteer placement at The Brixton Windmill. As it started to rain heavy I went in search of the preoccupied boyfriend wandering around Brixton Market aimlessly to kill time whilst I arrived. After a soggy hug I was described as 'Wet, Cute and Sexy' by that wonderful man, although I'm not sure how I can do all three at the same time. Go me I suppose! After dinner we boarded the Tube home with the promise of looking at hotels and things to do for our up and coming first Mini-Break to Bristol together. Our trip is planned for a few weeks time, just after Miss Bride's wedding and just before the World Cup 2014 in which like any women with a football mad other half I shall mourn their loss to the great game until July sometime. I however would class myself as a conventional girlfriend where by I am happy to sit in a pub be fed cider and pork scratchings whilst watching moderately attractive men run around in little more than hot pants, occasionally groping each other. Yes, a great game indeed! Although not as good as Rugby! I digress though, and a proper holiday, albeit the Christmas Getaway last year with the family will be much deserved and much fun for us both. Although it was not to be as an unlikely haze took hold of Mr. Cheese and struck him with an arrow of lust and unspent energy.
Starting off unconventionally on the Tube home from dinner at Honest Burger in Brixton, I shared with my boyfriend a kiss that would make anyone knees give way. Good thing I was sitting down. Passionately kissing me as we begged for the Tube to be empty of the only other occupant in the carriage to leave I embraced his passion and added to it myself, entwining ourselves in each other in a haze of young lust. Walking home from the station we could hardly contain ourselves, knowing that a flat free from house-mates and a neighbour with a heightened sense of sound to piss off I felt more excited than I had done in months. 'This was what I was missing' I thought. With promises of looking into a break to Bristol in June, we unlocked the door to the three-bed West London pad with a new agenda that didn't include taking off our pants. That failed and before I knew it I was lying on the Greek flag, being Falafel-ed! I think Mr. Cheese put it right when he said to me drifting off into a cuddly slumber that nothing would have got done that night anyway.
As my boyfriend kissed me on the lips Sunday morning I smiled although conscience of my apparently putrid morning breath. Hiding it as usual I snuggle back into his chest like a woodland animal not wanting to rise from the bed until wholly necessary. Unfortunately this was to come too soon as Boyfriend and I had the company of a good friend Mr. Cheese knew from school and university for the afternoon. Slipping on some heels and making myself look presentable I hoped I would be somewhat a talking point of lad-banter when I tottered to the bathroom or the bar to refresh our table with snacks and drinks. Although following the afternoon of football, cups and goals I decided to go back home with my boyfriend and snuggle for a bit before heading home. Secretly I didn't want to go home and wanted to try my luck at the bedroom-game but with the ill look on his face setting in I knew what my Mr. Cheese needed was for me to wrap him up and tuck him in bed with a nice cup of hot, loose-leafed tea and cuddles. This was not the case yet again.
Eyes squinting, I peeked out from behind the fluffy animal-print throw. Light blistered my peepers making me not want to get out of the cosiness I had found myself. I was naked and not alone. Yes, the person that stared back at me was my sleepy boyfriend. Sickness prevailed and I could tell he was unwell. Snuggling under the sheets he pulled me in close as I realised I was naked again and the implications this may have for the near future of my nether-regions. Poor Mr. Cheese. He was sick, so I probably shouldn't have come on to him, but nevertheless I did. A back massage later and craving something more than just rubbing, I straddled him, soon discovering I would not be getting what I wanted. I suppose I shouldn't be greedy as the following evening had been spent (quite literally) in a whirlwind of pleasure. I am hesitant to use the word ecstasy as that word is commonly used to describe orgasm, to which I still have yet to find at twenty-two but that is neither here nor there. As we spooned in the harsh glow of the bedroom light I recalled in fondness the way Mr. Cheese pandered to my every desire the previous evening. My arched back. The shivers down my spine. The eruption of pleased squeals from my lungs as I cried out his name in the moment. Ahh yes, the satisfying evening prior!
Napping until just gone nine at night though after a passionate encounter was the norm with us. And I enjoyed it. It made me feel young and throw-away and reckless, not caring for the hours knowing that I had so many left ahead of me. Realising that the massage had done the opposite affect that I wanted I decided to turn my head to cake instead (as one does when one is not ravaged on the spot). The lemon tart Miss Tweedle-Dee had bought me Friday night had made the long journey from Bedford to Chiswick and was about to be sampled! Serving up a warmed slice accompanied with tea and coffee I entered the lounge and joined Mr. Cheese on the couch to watch some traditional wildlife TV before bedtime properly. Again Bristol Mini-Break didn't get a look in but the thought was there. As we positioned ourselves facing one another again, noses barely touching, I suppressed the compulsion to say the 'L' word, unaware that it was only hanging off the other persons tongue.
Waking naturally I wondered to the time. Looking at my phone I noted that I still had a few moments I could steal away between the sheets before I had to dash back to my job in Bedford. Due to the ill-health of the Boyfriend I decided to stay last night in Chiswick to care for him and make sure he was OK. He seemed worse when I woke this morning, clammy and tired. I worried for him and really tried hard to think of ways I could stay, knowing that I couldn't, not when I was only a few weeks into my new role. And so as I prised myself from Mr. Cheese's weak grip I asked if he wanted tea or breakfast. The reply was a short and sweet declination. I offered him anything else he wanted and he reached out for a cuddle. How could I deny him that. Of all the simple pleasures in life this was one of them. Getting dressed I tried not to rouse the sickly Boyfriend too much although he did say how wonderful it felt to be feeling so terrible but able to wake in the night and just reach out to someone just across the pillows. And as if that didn't touch me enough I was bowled over by what was to come next.
Pulling on my coat and borrowed scarf from Mr. Cheese I knew that the 6am London air would be chilly and unpleasant compared to the warmth of the flat. Nevertheless I knew I had to go and that if I didn't go soon I would be making a convincing phone-call to my boss explaining why I wasn't coming in. Asking once more if there was anything I could do for him I bent down to kiss him goodbye. Flashes of role-reversal invaded my mind as I saw myself being kissed by Mr. Workaholic before he left for work, leaving me too in bed. Casting those thoughts aside I rose to my feet, only to be tugged back down for another smooch. This time it was for real - I had to leave. And maybe it was the conscience illness talking or maybe it was straight from the heart I had listened to beat only a matter of hours ago snuggled up on his chest, but one thing is for certain and that is that this morning, I heard clear as day; Mr. Cheese said 'I Love You'!
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Showing posts with label The 'L' Word. Show all posts
Showing posts with label The 'L' Word. Show all posts
Monday, 12 May 2014
Tuesday, 15 October 2013
Silly Mouth!
Well Hello There,
So another week and yet more blissful romances have continued with my dear Mr. Cheese, that as until my ridiculous mouth said something it wasn't meant to...
I looked at the clock. It was nearly quarter-past four on a Friday afternoon and in a few moments it would finally be home time. As I shutdown and cleared down my desk for the weekend I knew that it wouldn't be long until I was rattling down the tracks to Mr. Cheese. Luckily enough I even ended up bagging a lift to the station from one of my work colleagues who lived nearby so grabbing my bag I jumped in the car and off we went. Its funny how I didn't seem to realise just how busy rush hour gets the closer you get to London on a Friday evening. Irrespective of this I still took up four seats on the train with my bags and coats and worldly possessions for the weekend ahead. Safe to say I don't travel light!
Arriving into King's Cross I speedily whizzed around looking for a less busy ticket kiosk but everywhere was manic with tourists and business people, families and general busy-bodies alike, all searching for a platform or information or like me, a ticket machine for the Underground. Finally I found one but oh wait; My card has decided to have a disagreement with the machine and so after spending a few years in the queue, several minutes reordering my tickets and annoying the forty-odd commuters and travellers behind me I went to go join another queue where a real person could help me. My card ironically worked and after an hour of wandering around looking for a ticket I eventually got one. Now for a coffee and boy did I need one!
As I skipped off to the Underground, coffee in hand I felt my stomach rumble for something more than just an expensive beverage. I was glad that Mr. Cheese was making me dinner, even if it was all alien to me. I mean Mr. Ginge helped me cook but never took the full reins and Mr. Workaholic, well, I can hardly count chicken dinosaurs and potato smiles is hardly a romantic meal is it? Arriving into West London once more I was greeted by a warm yet slightly damp Mr. Cheese. Typical British weather. It was raining. As we let ourselves in he informed me that we were having a feast of local butchers chicken breasts stuffed with Italian buffalo mozzarella wrapped in cured Parma ham with a side of homemade seasoned fries, carrots and broccoli all coated in a rustically prepared-from-scratch white wine jus. Impressive I know. Sounds like Michelin star dining when I put it like that. And as we sat down to eat at the shiny black glass dinner table in his kitchen I thought to myself whilst being poured another glass of wine by a gleaming, gorgeous Mr. Cheese "Wow, this one is a keeper!"
After dinner was the game. Of football. Now everyone will know I am no sports fan, as a matter of fact I am the furthest from a sports fan. London hosted the 2012 Olympics last year and the whole world watched as I avoided watching TV for fear of getting out of breath just looking at people doing sports. But somehow I have found that sports, football in particular can be very, very entertaining and by the end of the game I was holding my breath and getting excited just as much as Mr. Cheese was. I suppose what made it better was the build up of sexual tension as I unknowingly stroked Mr. Cheese's thighs and felt along his arms which were tightly wrapped around me as we cuddled watching in awe at 11 overly-paid men run around and kick a ball.
What followed was an evening of passion, one that is best kept under wraps. One thing is for sure though and that is after a few weeks of figuring out each others sexual excites and pleasures it seems that Miss Tweedle-Dumb was right. The sex does get better. Once all the anxiety is lost and the pressure is stripped away (no pun intended) there is just left two people that fancy some fun, and what better way than to get your rocks off with someone who fancies the pants off you ... quiet literally! Saturday morning again was 'orgasmic' in a way that I have never felt before up until then. Somehow Mr. Cheese has an uncanny ability to make me want him, even when he is getting dressed. After sectioning myself to the corner of the bedroom we were both finally dressed and ready to have breakfast out at a posh restaurant on the local high street near Mr. Cheese's flat. Smooth small talk and conversation bubbled across the breakfast table whilst we both gazed into each others eyes longingly although unbeknown to me something was brewing. Something big ...
Rushing, Mr. Cheese and I paced down the steps to London Victoria's Underground station. We both knew we might be a little late to our appointments that afternoon. As the two tubes stormed into the platforms we quickly hugged and said our goodbyes. It was at this point it spilled out.
I meant to say something nice and sweet and lovely, something that I say to Mr. Cheese all the time because there are no other words to say how I feel. And then. Out of no-where. Like a freight train it comes steaming out my chest and through my mouth but before I have a chance to cover my lips it escapes ... I Love You. Fuck! Everything slows down and for a few seconds I wonder what just happened. He turns to walk away and I pray to God that he didn't hear that profanity. I had promised myself I wouldn't say it. Not until I'm ready. Not until the moment is right. 'And Victoria Tube Station was not the right time mouth!' I scolded myself. As I stepped inside the closing doors of the tube I wondered how I may tell my children about 'Love' one day.
"Mommy, How do you know when to say I Love You?" my children will ask me. And what shall I tell them - "Well my child. When your in a stuffy, crowded Underground station in the middle of London. When your cooking alive because your wearing seven layers plus a coat, scarf and gloves. When your standing across from the man you have been nurturing feelings for ever since you went to the wrong damn bridge on your first date. When both of you are finally ready to depart one anothers company and there is seconds to spare before the tube doors shut and your left stranded on the station. That's when my dear. That's when you say I Love You. Then you turn, curse yourself for saying it and continue beating yourself up about it all weekend hoping that, despite your love-interest saying that he didn't hear, a little part of you wonders if he secretly did." Yes. Sounds about right.
So as I made my way to the hairdressers to have a fringe cut into my long locks that I had been growing for nearly three-years I wondered how Mr. Cheese's journey was, en route to volunteer at a local Charity. Auuhh! I had tried so hard and convinced myself that I didn't feel that strongly for him, fooling myself into understanding it was just infatuation and smitteness with something or someone new. But maybe this is my sub-conscience telling me that in actual fact I do. Do I? I mean I have come around to the idea that it is now beyond sex and there are the foundations for something special. Mr. Cheese has had a lot of me and my life to deal with and he still wants to spend time with me. My family adore him and my friends are just as besotted as I am but is it Love?
Well if that isn't enough I am sure that this weekend will be a sticky one. I am meeting some of Mr. Cheese's closest friends. Friends of his I might add that are under the impression that we are an item. Boyfriend. Girlfriend. Item. Question is, by the time Sunday evening rolls around will I? Or will Mr. Cheese explain to his friends that we are simply "friends"? Will I be friend-zoned? What will I be telling you all next week? Oh, Silly Mouth! How I love you so.
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
So another week and yet more blissful romances have continued with my dear Mr. Cheese, that as until my ridiculous mouth said something it wasn't meant to...
I looked at the clock. It was nearly quarter-past four on a Friday afternoon and in a few moments it would finally be home time. As I shutdown and cleared down my desk for the weekend I knew that it wouldn't be long until I was rattling down the tracks to Mr. Cheese. Luckily enough I even ended up bagging a lift to the station from one of my work colleagues who lived nearby so grabbing my bag I jumped in the car and off we went. Its funny how I didn't seem to realise just how busy rush hour gets the closer you get to London on a Friday evening. Irrespective of this I still took up four seats on the train with my bags and coats and worldly possessions for the weekend ahead. Safe to say I don't travel light!
Arriving into King's Cross I speedily whizzed around looking for a less busy ticket kiosk but everywhere was manic with tourists and business people, families and general busy-bodies alike, all searching for a platform or information or like me, a ticket machine for the Underground. Finally I found one but oh wait; My card has decided to have a disagreement with the machine and so after spending a few years in the queue, several minutes reordering my tickets and annoying the forty-odd commuters and travellers behind me I went to go join another queue where a real person could help me. My card ironically worked and after an hour of wandering around looking for a ticket I eventually got one. Now for a coffee and boy did I need one!
As I skipped off to the Underground, coffee in hand I felt my stomach rumble for something more than just an expensive beverage. I was glad that Mr. Cheese was making me dinner, even if it was all alien to me. I mean Mr. Ginge helped me cook but never took the full reins and Mr. Workaholic, well, I can hardly count chicken dinosaurs and potato smiles is hardly a romantic meal is it? Arriving into West London once more I was greeted by a warm yet slightly damp Mr. Cheese. Typical British weather. It was raining. As we let ourselves in he informed me that we were having a feast of local butchers chicken breasts stuffed with Italian buffalo mozzarella wrapped in cured Parma ham with a side of homemade seasoned fries, carrots and broccoli all coated in a rustically prepared-from-scratch white wine jus. Impressive I know. Sounds like Michelin star dining when I put it like that. And as we sat down to eat at the shiny black glass dinner table in his kitchen I thought to myself whilst being poured another glass of wine by a gleaming, gorgeous Mr. Cheese "Wow, this one is a keeper!"
After dinner was the game. Of football. Now everyone will know I am no sports fan, as a matter of fact I am the furthest from a sports fan. London hosted the 2012 Olympics last year and the whole world watched as I avoided watching TV for fear of getting out of breath just looking at people doing sports. But somehow I have found that sports, football in particular can be very, very entertaining and by the end of the game I was holding my breath and getting excited just as much as Mr. Cheese was. I suppose what made it better was the build up of sexual tension as I unknowingly stroked Mr. Cheese's thighs and felt along his arms which were tightly wrapped around me as we cuddled watching in awe at 11 overly-paid men run around and kick a ball.
What followed was an evening of passion, one that is best kept under wraps. One thing is for sure though and that is after a few weeks of figuring out each others sexual excites and pleasures it seems that Miss Tweedle-Dumb was right. The sex does get better. Once all the anxiety is lost and the pressure is stripped away (no pun intended) there is just left two people that fancy some fun, and what better way than to get your rocks off with someone who fancies the pants off you ... quiet literally! Saturday morning again was 'orgasmic' in a way that I have never felt before up until then. Somehow Mr. Cheese has an uncanny ability to make me want him, even when he is getting dressed. After sectioning myself to the corner of the bedroom we were both finally dressed and ready to have breakfast out at a posh restaurant on the local high street near Mr. Cheese's flat. Smooth small talk and conversation bubbled across the breakfast table whilst we both gazed into each others eyes longingly although unbeknown to me something was brewing. Something big ...
Rushing, Mr. Cheese and I paced down the steps to London Victoria's Underground station. We both knew we might be a little late to our appointments that afternoon. As the two tubes stormed into the platforms we quickly hugged and said our goodbyes. It was at this point it spilled out.
I meant to say something nice and sweet and lovely, something that I say to Mr. Cheese all the time because there are no other words to say how I feel. And then. Out of no-where. Like a freight train it comes steaming out my chest and through my mouth but before I have a chance to cover my lips it escapes ... I Love You. Fuck! Everything slows down and for a few seconds I wonder what just happened. He turns to walk away and I pray to God that he didn't hear that profanity. I had promised myself I wouldn't say it. Not until I'm ready. Not until the moment is right. 'And Victoria Tube Station was not the right time mouth!' I scolded myself. As I stepped inside the closing doors of the tube I wondered how I may tell my children about 'Love' one day.
"Mommy, How do you know when to say I Love You?" my children will ask me. And what shall I tell them - "Well my child. When your in a stuffy, crowded Underground station in the middle of London. When your cooking alive because your wearing seven layers plus a coat, scarf and gloves. When your standing across from the man you have been nurturing feelings for ever since you went to the wrong damn bridge on your first date. When both of you are finally ready to depart one anothers company and there is seconds to spare before the tube doors shut and your left stranded on the station. That's when my dear. That's when you say I Love You. Then you turn, curse yourself for saying it and continue beating yourself up about it all weekend hoping that, despite your love-interest saying that he didn't hear, a little part of you wonders if he secretly did." Yes. Sounds about right.
So as I made my way to the hairdressers to have a fringe cut into my long locks that I had been growing for nearly three-years I wondered how Mr. Cheese's journey was, en route to volunteer at a local Charity. Auuhh! I had tried so hard and convinced myself that I didn't feel that strongly for him, fooling myself into understanding it was just infatuation and smitteness with something or someone new. But maybe this is my sub-conscience telling me that in actual fact I do. Do I? I mean I have come around to the idea that it is now beyond sex and there are the foundations for something special. Mr. Cheese has had a lot of me and my life to deal with and he still wants to spend time with me. My family adore him and my friends are just as besotted as I am but is it Love?
Well if that isn't enough I am sure that this weekend will be a sticky one. I am meeting some of Mr. Cheese's closest friends. Friends of his I might add that are under the impression that we are an item. Boyfriend. Girlfriend. Item. Question is, by the time Sunday evening rolls around will I? Or will Mr. Cheese explain to his friends that we are simply "friends"? Will I be friend-zoned? What will I be telling you all next week? Oh, Silly Mouth! How I love you so.
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Tuesday, 24 September 2013
Royalty, Romance and Relationships
Hello,
Well firstly thank you to everyone who made my birthday so special. Weather it was birthday messages or spending quality time with the Queen herself (Me!) and I would just like to tell you all how appreciated it was to have you share my day. So much better than last year. Now all that soppiness is over and done with there is pressing matters to be dealt with and much gossip that must be told so on with the show!
As the sun set on the evening of my twenty-second year on this planet and with Miss Tweedle-Dumb, Miss Tweeedle-Dee and Miss Stuu close behind I strut my stuff down the wobbly pavements of town . I could see him. Fluffy, Beatles hair cut, jeans and a smart blazer. Mr. Cheese was waiting for me and my entourage. Just as I finished the introductions Miss Chocolate arrived from parking the car and again the meet and greet began. Nausea taking a hold of me, we made our way into the restaurant and sat down. Softly touching my thigh Mr. Cheese lent over as everyone was busy reading their menu's and shuffled a envelope towards my pile of presents and cards my friends had bestowed upon me. Whispering in my ear he told me that I would have my presents on Sunday when he planned to take me on a surprise day out somewhere special. Lightly and swiftly kissing me on the cheek he turned to his menu too. Think he had got away with a cheeky peck in front of my friends I smiled to myself, but everyone had seen I was sure. After ordering food came the presents. Cards first and I saved Mr. Cheese's for last. Not expecting anything at all I opened the card and read some sweet verse and then the sign off. Love! Mr. Cheese signed my card with love. Yeah, I totally didn't read into that too much! Not ...
Once the presents were unwrapped and I discovered the Tweedle's had bought me some make-up and an Ice-Cream Maker and Miss Chocolate a muffin stand the conversation swiftly moved to deeper waters. As the girls interacted with him he seemed at ease discussing with them anecdotes of school life and sharing stories of when we were all younger. In between conversing about topical subjects I would catch Mr. Cheese looking at me so fondly I started to melt. Glancing over I could see in his eyes that maybe. No, defiantly this was the start of something special and romantic. Talk continued but I could tell with the looks that everyone else was giving me around the table, I wasn't the only one to notice Mr. Cheese's admiring stares. So much fun was had it was soon realised that we had spent nearly three hours in the restaurant. As it was midweek I suggested that we all made a move.
After waving goodbye to Miss Chocolate we all bundled into Miss Tweedle-Dumb's new car called Christian and headed back to my place. Trundling upstairs with all my presents I was glad to be home and whilst Mr. Cheese, Miss Stuu and I giggling at photo's on my wall I heard singing coming from the hallway when all of a sudden I was presented with a massive chocolate cake (think along the lines of the film 'Matilda' and you'll be on the right tracks) with two candles in the middle saying twenty-two. It was all too much. Mr. Cheese, the Girls, the nice meal, the presents and the memoirs of just twelve months ago was all so emotional that I nearly cried. I didn't but I welled up alot. After that episode everyone left me and Mr. Cheese, on the homeward bound after a long night I could understand why they wanted their beds. I did too. But for other reasons ...
After a few quiet and very tiring days in my new job I was looking forward to the weekend although I knew it would be busy. Finally Saturday arrived and it was time to get my party on! Miss Tweedle-Dumb, Miss Tweedle-Dee, Miss Pea (a friend of the Tweedle's and mine) and Miss Stuu all arrived and as the sun went down the bottle came up. Playing drinking games with a pack of 1970's style porn cards and taking shots in between doing hair, make-up and getting dressed was what a standard night out began with.
Arriving at the Town Centre we headed straight for a local bar and then onto a Club. The atmosphere was hot and sticky but I was already a little bit drunk and so was looking forward to more drinks with my posse. Grabbing some drinks from the bar we headed to the dance floor where me and the others broke out the moves. On the man scale, Bedford wasn't awful, but it wasn't no cock-celebration either. Although Me and Miss Stuu didn't seem to mind when we were standing on the platform in the middle of the floor surrounded by men just jumping and dancing to club anthems whilst holding onto each other for dear life in case one of us got swept away by the sea of testosterone. Everything was going so well. There was dancing and singing and Miss Tweedle-Dee even had some stick-on moustaches to make our night extra memorable. That was until the Disc-Jockey reminded me of how different it could have all been.
A song. But not just any old song. It was mine and Mr. Workaholic's song. The one we first danced to. The one we promised to slow dance at our wedding to. The one we said we would sing lullabies to our children with. Our song. So there I was as the first few strum's of the guitar rang out across the club I looked up to the ceiling. I felt someone grab my hand and squeeze it hard as hot, painful tears spilled out over my cheeks. I looked down to see the concerned faces of my best friends. shouting at me not to cry I wiped my tears and sang along as my heart began splinter. In those few minutes that seemed like a lifetime I was reminded just how far I had come since then and how much better and stronger I am for it. Fuck him! Yeah! Fuck you Mr. Workaholic! Go eat a rattle-snake!
Falling into bed at 4.30am after a heavy night of partying and drinking with friends I drifted off to sleep between the Tweedles in my king-size bed knowing that in a matter of hours I would be in the company of Mr. Cheese. Although waking in the morning was another thing. It looked as though someone had thrown a grenade into my flat and shut the door! Safe to say that the clean up operation took sometime, but with many hands making light work it was soon spick and span. Once I had confirmation that Mr. Cheese was en-route to mine everyone scarpered except Miss Tweedle-Dumb who stopped to collect her things at a more leisurely pace which I liked. Secretly I think she wanted to see what I had got from Mr. Cheese for my birthday. Well she didn't have long to wait as I had barely put the washing on before the doorbell rang. Answering it I was thrust a massive bunch of blue, white and red flowers including roses and my favorite - Gerbera's! Shocked I took him and the flowers straight upstairs and let him meet Miss Tweedle-Dumb again before she left for her own Boyfriend's.
After waffling for a couple of hours I opened the rest of my presents from Mr. Cheese - A beautiful Butterfly necklace (Ironically picked because of the connotations surrounding our first date) and some trinkets for my house including a romantic candle. We decided to head out into the blisteringly hot weather and have a picnic. And boy does this one know how to do picnic's. Reducing my attempts at a picnic a few weeks ago in London, Mr. Cheese pulls from the boot of his car a proper woollen blanket, fully embroidered with sheep and a Fortnum and Mason picnic hamper basket complete with cutlery and plates. Refreshments consisted of fruit, handmade sandwiches, homegrown salad, cake, juice, crisps, scotch eggs and sausage rolls. To wash it all down he provided me with a special bottle of bubbly. Romance level: Expert!
Once we had nearly died from heat-stroke we headed back to his car and made our way to my secret day out. Where too? A local Safari Park where we basically drove around looking at endangered and rare wild animals thinking out loud and discussing what they would taste like. We established that Rhino would taste nice and Ostriches would make me a nice handbag. By the time we got to the monkey's we were full on kitting ourselves our a whole wardrobe and as one primate placed himself in prime position on the windshield of the car we agreed that it would make at least one pair of slippers - Finished off with a Monkey bobble head for the toes. And before all you PETA and RSPCA guys jump on your band-wagon, don't get anal about it, we were having fun. I would never hurt a fly let alone a furry thing! Although just as a discretionary note; I have eaten Ostrich and Kangaroo. Both were very tasty!
The rest of Sunday was spent walking around the small foot-zoo making animal noises and gazing into each others eyes with only admiration. The evening was not an early one as hoped for but was laid back and as romantic as one could wish for. Finally though it seems after having a blissful week and somewhat talking to Mr, Cheese about how many questions I had, I feel that although not all of them are fully satisfied, I know that the majority of them are answered fully and can now be put to bed. Although a few questions still remain I know that in time they will be solved.
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Well firstly thank you to everyone who made my birthday so special. Weather it was birthday messages or spending quality time with the Queen herself (Me!) and I would just like to tell you all how appreciated it was to have you share my day. So much better than last year. Now all that soppiness is over and done with there is pressing matters to be dealt with and much gossip that must be told so on with the show!
As the sun set on the evening of my twenty-second year on this planet and with Miss Tweedle-Dumb, Miss Tweeedle-Dee and Miss Stuu close behind I strut my stuff down the wobbly pavements of town . I could see him. Fluffy, Beatles hair cut, jeans and a smart blazer. Mr. Cheese was waiting for me and my entourage. Just as I finished the introductions Miss Chocolate arrived from parking the car and again the meet and greet began. Nausea taking a hold of me, we made our way into the restaurant and sat down. Softly touching my thigh Mr. Cheese lent over as everyone was busy reading their menu's and shuffled a envelope towards my pile of presents and cards my friends had bestowed upon me. Whispering in my ear he told me that I would have my presents on Sunday when he planned to take me on a surprise day out somewhere special. Lightly and swiftly kissing me on the cheek he turned to his menu too. Think he had got away with a cheeky peck in front of my friends I smiled to myself, but everyone had seen I was sure. After ordering food came the presents. Cards first and I saved Mr. Cheese's for last. Not expecting anything at all I opened the card and read some sweet verse and then the sign off. Love! Mr. Cheese signed my card with love. Yeah, I totally didn't read into that too much! Not ...
Once the presents were unwrapped and I discovered the Tweedle's had bought me some make-up and an Ice-Cream Maker and Miss Chocolate a muffin stand the conversation swiftly moved to deeper waters. As the girls interacted with him he seemed at ease discussing with them anecdotes of school life and sharing stories of when we were all younger. In between conversing about topical subjects I would catch Mr. Cheese looking at me so fondly I started to melt. Glancing over I could see in his eyes that maybe. No, defiantly this was the start of something special and romantic. Talk continued but I could tell with the looks that everyone else was giving me around the table, I wasn't the only one to notice Mr. Cheese's admiring stares. So much fun was had it was soon realised that we had spent nearly three hours in the restaurant. As it was midweek I suggested that we all made a move.
After waving goodbye to Miss Chocolate we all bundled into Miss Tweedle-Dumb's new car called Christian and headed back to my place. Trundling upstairs with all my presents I was glad to be home and whilst Mr. Cheese, Miss Stuu and I giggling at photo's on my wall I heard singing coming from the hallway when all of a sudden I was presented with a massive chocolate cake (think along the lines of the film 'Matilda' and you'll be on the right tracks) with two candles in the middle saying twenty-two. It was all too much. Mr. Cheese, the Girls, the nice meal, the presents and the memoirs of just twelve months ago was all so emotional that I nearly cried. I didn't but I welled up alot. After that episode everyone left me and Mr. Cheese, on the homeward bound after a long night I could understand why they wanted their beds. I did too. But for other reasons ...
After a few quiet and very tiring days in my new job I was looking forward to the weekend although I knew it would be busy. Finally Saturday arrived and it was time to get my party on! Miss Tweedle-Dumb, Miss Tweedle-Dee, Miss Pea (a friend of the Tweedle's and mine) and Miss Stuu all arrived and as the sun went down the bottle came up. Playing drinking games with a pack of 1970's style porn cards and taking shots in between doing hair, make-up and getting dressed was what a standard night out began with.
Arriving at the Town Centre we headed straight for a local bar and then onto a Club. The atmosphere was hot and sticky but I was already a little bit drunk and so was looking forward to more drinks with my posse. Grabbing some drinks from the bar we headed to the dance floor where me and the others broke out the moves. On the man scale, Bedford wasn't awful, but it wasn't no cock-celebration either. Although Me and Miss Stuu didn't seem to mind when we were standing on the platform in the middle of the floor surrounded by men just jumping and dancing to club anthems whilst holding onto each other for dear life in case one of us got swept away by the sea of testosterone. Everything was going so well. There was dancing and singing and Miss Tweedle-Dee even had some stick-on moustaches to make our night extra memorable. That was until the Disc-Jockey reminded me of how different it could have all been.
A song. But not just any old song. It was mine and Mr. Workaholic's song. The one we first danced to. The one we promised to slow dance at our wedding to. The one we said we would sing lullabies to our children with. Our song. So there I was as the first few strum's of the guitar rang out across the club I looked up to the ceiling. I felt someone grab my hand and squeeze it hard as hot, painful tears spilled out over my cheeks. I looked down to see the concerned faces of my best friends. shouting at me not to cry I wiped my tears and sang along as my heart began splinter. In those few minutes that seemed like a lifetime I was reminded just how far I had come since then and how much better and stronger I am for it. Fuck him! Yeah! Fuck you Mr. Workaholic! Go eat a rattle-snake!
Falling into bed at 4.30am after a heavy night of partying and drinking with friends I drifted off to sleep between the Tweedles in my king-size bed knowing that in a matter of hours I would be in the company of Mr. Cheese. Although waking in the morning was another thing. It looked as though someone had thrown a grenade into my flat and shut the door! Safe to say that the clean up operation took sometime, but with many hands making light work it was soon spick and span. Once I had confirmation that Mr. Cheese was en-route to mine everyone scarpered except Miss Tweedle-Dumb who stopped to collect her things at a more leisurely pace which I liked. Secretly I think she wanted to see what I had got from Mr. Cheese for my birthday. Well she didn't have long to wait as I had barely put the washing on before the doorbell rang. Answering it I was thrust a massive bunch of blue, white and red flowers including roses and my favorite - Gerbera's! Shocked I took him and the flowers straight upstairs and let him meet Miss Tweedle-Dumb again before she left for her own Boyfriend's.
After waffling for a couple of hours I opened the rest of my presents from Mr. Cheese - A beautiful Butterfly necklace (Ironically picked because of the connotations surrounding our first date) and some trinkets for my house including a romantic candle. We decided to head out into the blisteringly hot weather and have a picnic. And boy does this one know how to do picnic's. Reducing my attempts at a picnic a few weeks ago in London, Mr. Cheese pulls from the boot of his car a proper woollen blanket, fully embroidered with sheep and a Fortnum and Mason picnic hamper basket complete with cutlery and plates. Refreshments consisted of fruit, handmade sandwiches, homegrown salad, cake, juice, crisps, scotch eggs and sausage rolls. To wash it all down he provided me with a special bottle of bubbly. Romance level: Expert!
Once we had nearly died from heat-stroke we headed back to his car and made our way to my secret day out. Where too? A local Safari Park where we basically drove around looking at endangered and rare wild animals thinking out loud and discussing what they would taste like. We established that Rhino would taste nice and Ostriches would make me a nice handbag. By the time we got to the monkey's we were full on kitting ourselves our a whole wardrobe and as one primate placed himself in prime position on the windshield of the car we agreed that it would make at least one pair of slippers - Finished off with a Monkey bobble head for the toes. And before all you PETA and RSPCA guys jump on your band-wagon, don't get anal about it, we were having fun. I would never hurt a fly let alone a furry thing! Although just as a discretionary note; I have eaten Ostrich and Kangaroo. Both were very tasty!
The rest of Sunday was spent walking around the small foot-zoo making animal noises and gazing into each others eyes with only admiration. The evening was not an early one as hoped for but was laid back and as romantic as one could wish for. Finally though it seems after having a blissful week and somewhat talking to Mr, Cheese about how many questions I had, I feel that although not all of them are fully satisfied, I know that the majority of them are answered fully and can now be put to bed. Although a few questions still remain I know that in time they will be solved.
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Tuesday, 17 September 2013
Bombarded With Questions!
Morning All,
Hard to believe that this time last year I was still in the gloomy rainclouds of my break-up with Mr. Workaholic. A year on, with the sunshine and rainbows of last week still lingering I couldn't think of a time where I have been happier in a long while. The pestering questions are still there from last week, constantly nagging and reminding me that at some point a decision has to be made - But after the weekend I have had, I think that a special someone has already made that decision for me ...
So after a few days off work from my old job at the windscreen company I began to prepare for a lazy weekend with Mr. Cheese as well as my fast approaching first day in the new role as an office junior in the finance sector. The Tweedles and I had planned a night out on the tiles at a gay bar but unfortunately Miss Tweedle-Dumb was involved in a car accident on the way home from work. Thankfully everyone was OK but sadly the car was not and as a result was a write off. Rest in peace 'Blu Cantrell' the Corsa. Nevertheless I was glad to have the Friday evening to prepare myself for a day (and even more so an evening) with Mr. Cheese. And so the pampering, preening and all-round de-fuzz was to commence!
At just gone eleven in the morning I was greeted with a wide smile, a hug and an unexpected kiss from Mr. Cheese as he rocked up in his cute blue car and away we went. First on the agenda for the day was a walk around the countryside just outside of Bedford in his home village. Trundling down the country back road's I could hear his nerves showing in the way he drove and I tried my best to be as still and as silent so as not to make his disposition worse. As we approached his village he went on to explain his younger brother's eighteenth the previous evening and how all the family had arrived to celebrate. I didn't really need an answer to the next question I was about to ask because as Mr. Cheese pulled the tiny car into the farm lane on which he lived outside the balloon adorned house was several cars. Not only this but the vehicle's were also accompanied by their owners and passengers. The Family! They hadn't left as early as Mr. Cheese had hoped and now I was about to meet the potential in-laws! There was Grandma's and Uncle's and Aunt's and Cousin's. Alot to take in but as the engine was switched off and the driver's door was opened I knew I had to make an impression; And a good one at that.
Stepping out of the car onto the wet gravel I walked toward Mr. Cheese, slightly nervous and anxious about being thrust into the limelight. I enjoyed knowing that this was maybe the start of something a little more serious than a couple of dates and secret nights spent in each others arms. I was introduced as 'Abbey' and before Mr. Cheese even had the chance to give me a dreaded label I said hello and politely waved. Seconds later everyone left and I could breath easy. Until that is I took not of the abode we were at. A beautiful family home set in wild countryside and with modern extensions but still keeping a oldy-worldy vibe. Staring at the front door and the scenery surrounding it I couldn't have though of a more idealistic and perfect family home. Shushing my own thoughts of future family and pushing them aside Mr. Cheese apologised and swiftly welcomed me in. The inside was just as mind-blowing as the exterior. I wouldn't have been able to imagine such perfection and quaintness if I tried. Several reception rooms, a large beautiful garden adorned with flowers and a secret vegetable patch as well as a glorious kitchen and lounge for entertaining. I couldn't have dreamt it any nicer.
After once again fighting the urge to flap about his parents house we decided to have a warm cuppa before heading out on our walk. After finishing up and popping everything in the sink we went to out our shoes on. But what was that. I heard foot steps on the landing. Youngest of all four brothers was up and like Batman himself hoofed down the stairs only to be greeted by a strange lady with purple-hair and wearing a dungaree dress. I said hello. It was only polite. After making very, very small talk with the teenager Mr. Cheese and I held hands as we walked the country lanes and farm land surrounding his majestic home. Carefully manoeuvring our way across muddy fields I felt like I was a kid again; Laughing and giggling without a care in the world. Just me and my Mr.Cheese!
Once we had reached a beauty spot we turned to look out over the hills towards Bedford itself watching it rise in the chilly weekend sunshine. Turning to me we began to cuddle and it wasn't long before we started to make idle chit-chat. Now after my awfully embarrassing stint on the box with regards to the dating show I went on in May/June I have since been blessed with the pet name 'Lemon Lady'. I think it's cute and says alot about both our personalities. All of a sudden though, as if I hadn't had enough shock for the day so far I think I heard some frightening but very romantically sweet words escape from Mr. Cheese's soft and kissable lips.After pulling me into his torso for a snuggle he made what seemed to me to be a passing comment. A simple gesture of appreciation. "I love you Lemon Lady" Mr. Cheese said through hushed tones. I heard it though. We both did. Or did we? Did I? Did he just say the 'L' word in a round about way? Oh goodness! A little speechless I lay against his warm body as he stroked my hair. As the silence set in I knew that there would be more questions to add to the growing list!
Arriving back at Mr. Cheese's family home I was greeted by his other older brother and again sat down for some more tea before once again heading off out for a potter around some local shops and coffee shops. Returning to the house simply to drop off the car we had a brief chat with the brothers about football and I stood there pretending to know what they were on about. But then the door went and in walks the king and queen of the palace! Mother and Father. Shortly followed by the birthday boy himself after visiting a university together. Smiling and wide-eyed I tried my hardest not to be terrified of meeting the people who probably meant the most to Mr. Cheese. They seemed wonderful, loving and warm people and as I left that afternoon I was hoped to been seen again from Mumma Cheese. I took it with a pinch of salt and tried not to think about the future in too much detail. Best not to get your hopes up in these situations unless they come tumbling down.
Then it was back to mine for what was meant to be a relaxing film before dinner out at a fancy restaurant. Safe to say that the film was never shown but I had starters before we even left my flat. Cheeky I know but that is the one thing that I enjoy doing to a lover. Going down on someone can be hard for alot of girls and women out there, hell I was once one of them - Terrified of the 'S or S' situation as well as the taste and the whole issue of fellatio. But for Mr. Cheese it's much more than just 'giving head'. The trembles and quivers make it all worth it, not to mention the way it send shivers down my own spine. Besides compared to the rest of my previous Don Juan's, Mr. Cheese is by far the tastiest of all my meals!
After dinner I went to the bathroom only to discover something horrifying! I wont mention what but it was scary and could well have ruined the evenings entertainment but I am glad to say that it was just a blip (no pun intended) and all is well. Just to be on the safe side, it was done with the lights off just in case Aunt Urma did make an unwelcome appearance between the sheets. Returning to the table Mr. Cheese continued conversation and somehow we got around to the subject of Christmas, especially what with being less than a hundred days to go! Once more the shock train hit me, but this time at a much higher speed and one that has left me pondering and stressing about this since it was first bairn. Through hushed voices and nervous mumbles Mr. Cheese asked me to join him and his family for Christmas away visiting more family in a snowy picturesque part of the North-East England. As romantically beautiful as it is the idea of being away from my own family at such an important time of year brings about a bunch more of questions. I could tell that Mr. Cheese meant well and really wanted me to be there but I just don't know if I could live up to the ex-girlfriend. I'm not a Cambridge Anthropology student and I don't have a high flying career or even anything that exciting about me I don't think so I don't know how his family will see me when compared to her. Besides you can't just invite a 'new friend' to spend Christmas with the possible in-laws. There has to be a title - Another thing that scares me shitless! Something to be pondered upon and thought about at a later date though ...
After the meal it was yet again another Saturday evening spent in a blissful and heated passion with Mr. Cheese. Much better than our first time last week but still some more positions to test run! As a larger lady I didn't think I would approve of being on-top as a first choice of positioning but as it goes it seems like this is the best way for me to get off and Mr. Cheese doesn't seem to mind much either! It even ended with us panting into the warm atmosphere as we climaxed together and exhausted it ended with snuggles and pillow talk. After a few hours though I discovered Mr. Cheese's tickle spots and this then progressed into further sexual delight and it was at some point during this pure ecstasy that the phrase "I am a machine!" was born. Think of "I am Sparta" and your along the same sort of lines as I was thinking when I said it. Although on this occasion I was wearing a fluffy, mauve jumper and continued to wear this throughout our escapades as Mr. Cheese playfully pinned me down and continued to send me into dizzying heights. For all you that are asking ... Yes Mr. Cheese did manage the big 'O'. I think. I don't really know what one feels like so I think that's what it was. It felt good anyhow!
Upon waking early Sunday morning I realised as I faced a cool magnolia wall that I was unable to turn around for fear of melting his face off with my god-awful morning breath. In my sleepy slumber yet another great line blessed my lips. I also had to contend with the fact that I had Panda eyes due to not taking off my make-up the night before. Should have just worn a paper bag to bed really. Sexy! It was also at this point that I realized I was starkers and exclaimed "Oh dear lord I'm Naked!" to which my bed-buddies reply was a simple, breathy "So am I" whispered softly in my ear. This line still makes him chuckle. Although after much attempting to make him stay in bed and fuck once more I realised it was all in vain as he left early to meet some old Uni friends in Oxford.
So after such a manic weekend I am now left with a whole host of questions that need answering but essentially I think they have been answered already for me. In fact, I know they have! I just need to let my head know that and accept that maybe a relationship is on the cards in the future? But for now this coming week consists of celebration as I turn Twenty-Two tomorrow. Olright, don't all rush forward with your presents ...
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Hard to believe that this time last year I was still in the gloomy rainclouds of my break-up with Mr. Workaholic. A year on, with the sunshine and rainbows of last week still lingering I couldn't think of a time where I have been happier in a long while. The pestering questions are still there from last week, constantly nagging and reminding me that at some point a decision has to be made - But after the weekend I have had, I think that a special someone has already made that decision for me ...
So after a few days off work from my old job at the windscreen company I began to prepare for a lazy weekend with Mr. Cheese as well as my fast approaching first day in the new role as an office junior in the finance sector. The Tweedles and I had planned a night out on the tiles at a gay bar but unfortunately Miss Tweedle-Dumb was involved in a car accident on the way home from work. Thankfully everyone was OK but sadly the car was not and as a result was a write off. Rest in peace 'Blu Cantrell' the Corsa. Nevertheless I was glad to have the Friday evening to prepare myself for a day (and even more so an evening) with Mr. Cheese. And so the pampering, preening and all-round de-fuzz was to commence!
At just gone eleven in the morning I was greeted with a wide smile, a hug and an unexpected kiss from Mr. Cheese as he rocked up in his cute blue car and away we went. First on the agenda for the day was a walk around the countryside just outside of Bedford in his home village. Trundling down the country back road's I could hear his nerves showing in the way he drove and I tried my best to be as still and as silent so as not to make his disposition worse. As we approached his village he went on to explain his younger brother's eighteenth the previous evening and how all the family had arrived to celebrate. I didn't really need an answer to the next question I was about to ask because as Mr. Cheese pulled the tiny car into the farm lane on which he lived outside the balloon adorned house was several cars. Not only this but the vehicle's were also accompanied by their owners and passengers. The Family! They hadn't left as early as Mr. Cheese had hoped and now I was about to meet the potential in-laws! There was Grandma's and Uncle's and Aunt's and Cousin's. Alot to take in but as the engine was switched off and the driver's door was opened I knew I had to make an impression; And a good one at that.
Stepping out of the car onto the wet gravel I walked toward Mr. Cheese, slightly nervous and anxious about being thrust into the limelight. I enjoyed knowing that this was maybe the start of something a little more serious than a couple of dates and secret nights spent in each others arms. I was introduced as 'Abbey' and before Mr. Cheese even had the chance to give me a dreaded label I said hello and politely waved. Seconds later everyone left and I could breath easy. Until that is I took not of the abode we were at. A beautiful family home set in wild countryside and with modern extensions but still keeping a oldy-worldy vibe. Staring at the front door and the scenery surrounding it I couldn't have though of a more idealistic and perfect family home. Shushing my own thoughts of future family and pushing them aside Mr. Cheese apologised and swiftly welcomed me in. The inside was just as mind-blowing as the exterior. I wouldn't have been able to imagine such perfection and quaintness if I tried. Several reception rooms, a large beautiful garden adorned with flowers and a secret vegetable patch as well as a glorious kitchen and lounge for entertaining. I couldn't have dreamt it any nicer.
After once again fighting the urge to flap about his parents house we decided to have a warm cuppa before heading out on our walk. After finishing up and popping everything in the sink we went to out our shoes on. But what was that. I heard foot steps on the landing. Youngest of all four brothers was up and like Batman himself hoofed down the stairs only to be greeted by a strange lady with purple-hair and wearing a dungaree dress. I said hello. It was only polite. After making very, very small talk with the teenager Mr. Cheese and I held hands as we walked the country lanes and farm land surrounding his majestic home. Carefully manoeuvring our way across muddy fields I felt like I was a kid again; Laughing and giggling without a care in the world. Just me and my Mr.Cheese!
Once we had reached a beauty spot we turned to look out over the hills towards Bedford itself watching it rise in the chilly weekend sunshine. Turning to me we began to cuddle and it wasn't long before we started to make idle chit-chat. Now after my awfully embarrassing stint on the box with regards to the dating show I went on in May/June I have since been blessed with the pet name 'Lemon Lady'. I think it's cute and says alot about both our personalities. All of a sudden though, as if I hadn't had enough shock for the day so far I think I heard some frightening but very romantically sweet words escape from Mr. Cheese's soft and kissable lips.After pulling me into his torso for a snuggle he made what seemed to me to be a passing comment. A simple gesture of appreciation. "I love you Lemon Lady" Mr. Cheese said through hushed tones. I heard it though. We both did. Or did we? Did I? Did he just say the 'L' word in a round about way? Oh goodness! A little speechless I lay against his warm body as he stroked my hair. As the silence set in I knew that there would be more questions to add to the growing list!
Arriving back at Mr. Cheese's family home I was greeted by his other older brother and again sat down for some more tea before once again heading off out for a potter around some local shops and coffee shops. Returning to the house simply to drop off the car we had a brief chat with the brothers about football and I stood there pretending to know what they were on about. But then the door went and in walks the king and queen of the palace! Mother and Father. Shortly followed by the birthday boy himself after visiting a university together. Smiling and wide-eyed I tried my hardest not to be terrified of meeting the people who probably meant the most to Mr. Cheese. They seemed wonderful, loving and warm people and as I left that afternoon I was hoped to been seen again from Mumma Cheese. I took it with a pinch of salt and tried not to think about the future in too much detail. Best not to get your hopes up in these situations unless they come tumbling down.
Then it was back to mine for what was meant to be a relaxing film before dinner out at a fancy restaurant. Safe to say that the film was never shown but I had starters before we even left my flat. Cheeky I know but that is the one thing that I enjoy doing to a lover. Going down on someone can be hard for alot of girls and women out there, hell I was once one of them - Terrified of the 'S or S' situation as well as the taste and the whole issue of fellatio. But for Mr. Cheese it's much more than just 'giving head'. The trembles and quivers make it all worth it, not to mention the way it send shivers down my own spine. Besides compared to the rest of my previous Don Juan's, Mr. Cheese is by far the tastiest of all my meals!
After dinner I went to the bathroom only to discover something horrifying! I wont mention what but it was scary and could well have ruined the evenings entertainment but I am glad to say that it was just a blip (no pun intended) and all is well. Just to be on the safe side, it was done with the lights off just in case Aunt Urma did make an unwelcome appearance between the sheets. Returning to the table Mr. Cheese continued conversation and somehow we got around to the subject of Christmas, especially what with being less than a hundred days to go! Once more the shock train hit me, but this time at a much higher speed and one that has left me pondering and stressing about this since it was first bairn. Through hushed voices and nervous mumbles Mr. Cheese asked me to join him and his family for Christmas away visiting more family in a snowy picturesque part of the North-East England. As romantically beautiful as it is the idea of being away from my own family at such an important time of year brings about a bunch more of questions. I could tell that Mr. Cheese meant well and really wanted me to be there but I just don't know if I could live up to the ex-girlfriend. I'm not a Cambridge Anthropology student and I don't have a high flying career or even anything that exciting about me I don't think so I don't know how his family will see me when compared to her. Besides you can't just invite a 'new friend' to spend Christmas with the possible in-laws. There has to be a title - Another thing that scares me shitless! Something to be pondered upon and thought about at a later date though ...
After the meal it was yet again another Saturday evening spent in a blissful and heated passion with Mr. Cheese. Much better than our first time last week but still some more positions to test run! As a larger lady I didn't think I would approve of being on-top as a first choice of positioning but as it goes it seems like this is the best way for me to get off and Mr. Cheese doesn't seem to mind much either! It even ended with us panting into the warm atmosphere as we climaxed together and exhausted it ended with snuggles and pillow talk. After a few hours though I discovered Mr. Cheese's tickle spots and this then progressed into further sexual delight and it was at some point during this pure ecstasy that the phrase "I am a machine!" was born. Think of "I am Sparta" and your along the same sort of lines as I was thinking when I said it. Although on this occasion I was wearing a fluffy, mauve jumper and continued to wear this throughout our escapades as Mr. Cheese playfully pinned me down and continued to send me into dizzying heights. For all you that are asking ... Yes Mr. Cheese did manage the big 'O'. I think. I don't really know what one feels like so I think that's what it was. It felt good anyhow!
Upon waking early Sunday morning I realised as I faced a cool magnolia wall that I was unable to turn around for fear of melting his face off with my god-awful morning breath. In my sleepy slumber yet another great line blessed my lips. I also had to contend with the fact that I had Panda eyes due to not taking off my make-up the night before. Should have just worn a paper bag to bed really. Sexy! It was also at this point that I realized I was starkers and exclaimed "Oh dear lord I'm Naked!" to which my bed-buddies reply was a simple, breathy "So am I" whispered softly in my ear. This line still makes him chuckle. Although after much attempting to make him stay in bed and fuck once more I realised it was all in vain as he left early to meet some old Uni friends in Oxford.
So after such a manic weekend I am now left with a whole host of questions that need answering but essentially I think they have been answered already for me. In fact, I know they have! I just need to let my head know that and accept that maybe a relationship is on the cards in the future? But for now this coming week consists of celebration as I turn Twenty-Two tomorrow. Olright, don't all rush forward with your presents ...
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Tuesday, 2 July 2013
To Date Or Not To Date?
Hello,
So no word from Mr. Workaholic this week, or his mother for that fact, which in some respects I'm glad of. I have enough drama and excitement in my life for them to cramp my style. But it did get me thinking about how it would be nice to have a new Mister about the place. After spending the weekend with family and Saturday afternoon discussing relationships with my beloved Grandmother I finally realised it time to get out there. And so commences my first look into dating since said train crash with Mr. Workaholic.
Its a scary place the dating scene, especially for an inexperienced little mite like me. You see other that 'The one that got away' that is Mr. Ginge and the notorious Mr. Workaholic, there hasn't really been anyone else. Apart from a few flings and silly teen relationships - Oh, and of course Mr. Coffee, there hasn't been anyone else. And besides where do you even meet people nower days when your twenty-one? I mean its not like I ever go out any more since Miss Chocolate has just moved into her new house so is pretty much broke and Miss Tweedle-Dee and Miss Tweedle-Dumb have turned into thirty-year-old's; In fact I know even thirty-year-old's that go out more than they do. Don't get me wrong I love them to bits and would do anything for them, but they need to realise that they are still young and there is more to life than nights-in and slogging your guts out at work!
The majority of people meet each other through friends, in which I don't have very many close ones with tonnes of single male bachelor's or they meet at university, in which I chose not to go to as I wanted to build and create a life with Mr. Workaholic - And we all know where that ended up! It seems that the only place people my age meet is whilst intoxicated or under-the-influence in a nightclub at 3am when all other hopefuls have eloped and the only way to end the night would be to make a mistake by waking up next to someone in the morning you barely remember their face, let alone the name! The way it comes across is that meeting someone in a club on a night out is a bit like playing musical chairs - You have to find the best chair before your left with the one that has the dodgy leg and squeaks, and no-body wants that chair!
After dabbling around with the Channel 4 show 'First Dates' for the past couple of week's and not manifesting a single whiff of interest I have decided to take things into my own hands. Its not like I expected a line outside my door to date me or anything, but just someone remotely interested in me. Whilst I may really like lemons and have an admiration for all things dairy, I am quirky and interesting. I'm not one of these girls that is moody and uninterested in anything and everything. I love discovering and enjoying life. I love food and unlike some girls I'm not scared to feast on a steak or two. Yeah I'm a little lumpy in places but hey, isn't everyone? Isn't that what makes us different? If we were back in caveman days I would have been worshipped for my healthy appetite, large hips and vibrant personality. It would be me that survives, not someone with a waist smaller than a pencil and a head filled with nothing but hot air. But somehow its pencils a la hot air that attract all the men? I know that I would prefer to be with someone that was ugly but had a bit of pizazz about them that someone who looked like they had just stepped off stage from a Chippendale's show - Not that a Chippendale is my idea of a perfect man. In fact it couldn't be further from the truth.
I enjoy a man who is manly with a dash of femininity. Someone who takes care of themselves, but not too much. I also like a nice, jumper-wearing, guy who can make me laugh and that gets along with my friends and family. They're the people he will need to impress the most. I enjoy running my fingers through hair whilst in the moment if you follow the drift and I like other bodily hair, but I don't want to date chewbacca. I find little tufts of hair tucked away under the arms and on the chest cute and sweet. I just want a nice man to bring home to my family and friends, that isn't going to hurt me in the way that everyone has - With the exception of Mr. Ginge. I don't think that's too much to ask for? Well that and my four point check-list is also preferable ... Hair, Eyes, Shoes and Teeth.
Mind you, maybe the fact that most people my age aren't on dating websites or in the national papers appealing for dates should tells me that its not normal to get hung up on finding someone so young. I just feel that maybe time is ticking. I wasted so much time on Mr. Workaholic building our dreams and future that when it all collapsed I had nothing left. everything was burnt and that makes me want to be fire retardant for the rest of my life, but I cant help it, I just fall in love so easily. I'm not ready at the age of twenty-one to settle down and have the kids and the dog and the house and the nine-to-five yet. I still want to live my life. I have so much to see and do. I want to go on a crazy holiday to a party island with all my friends and drink so much we have to be carted home by the locals. I want to travel and see some of the world. I want to have some more nights that I think to myself 'Oh god, did I really do that?'
And so round and round I go with the quarterly-life crisis that is - To date or not to date? That is the question? I think I am ready, but am I really? I have a lot going on at the moment and a corker of a summer just around the corner - Would I really want to share that with anyone? I doubts it. Besides Ive got to move out soon. I have seen a few places and have a couple lined up to go and see some more but yes, it seems that it wont be long before I shall be broadcasting from a new location. Where is another matter though ...
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
So no word from Mr. Workaholic this week, or his mother for that fact, which in some respects I'm glad of. I have enough drama and excitement in my life for them to cramp my style. But it did get me thinking about how it would be nice to have a new Mister about the place. After spending the weekend with family and Saturday afternoon discussing relationships with my beloved Grandmother I finally realised it time to get out there. And so commences my first look into dating since said train crash with Mr. Workaholic.
Its a scary place the dating scene, especially for an inexperienced little mite like me. You see other that 'The one that got away' that is Mr. Ginge and the notorious Mr. Workaholic, there hasn't really been anyone else. Apart from a few flings and silly teen relationships - Oh, and of course Mr. Coffee, there hasn't been anyone else. And besides where do you even meet people nower days when your twenty-one? I mean its not like I ever go out any more since Miss Chocolate has just moved into her new house so is pretty much broke and Miss Tweedle-Dee and Miss Tweedle-Dumb have turned into thirty-year-old's; In fact I know even thirty-year-old's that go out more than they do. Don't get me wrong I love them to bits and would do anything for them, but they need to realise that they are still young and there is more to life than nights-in and slogging your guts out at work!
The majority of people meet each other through friends, in which I don't have very many close ones with tonnes of single male bachelor's or they meet at university, in which I chose not to go to as I wanted to build and create a life with Mr. Workaholic - And we all know where that ended up! It seems that the only place people my age meet is whilst intoxicated or under-the-influence in a nightclub at 3am when all other hopefuls have eloped and the only way to end the night would be to make a mistake by waking up next to someone in the morning you barely remember their face, let alone the name! The way it comes across is that meeting someone in a club on a night out is a bit like playing musical chairs - You have to find the best chair before your left with the one that has the dodgy leg and squeaks, and no-body wants that chair!
After dabbling around with the Channel 4 show 'First Dates' for the past couple of week's and not manifesting a single whiff of interest I have decided to take things into my own hands. Its not like I expected a line outside my door to date me or anything, but just someone remotely interested in me. Whilst I may really like lemons and have an admiration for all things dairy, I am quirky and interesting. I'm not one of these girls that is moody and uninterested in anything and everything. I love discovering and enjoying life. I love food and unlike some girls I'm not scared to feast on a steak or two. Yeah I'm a little lumpy in places but hey, isn't everyone? Isn't that what makes us different? If we were back in caveman days I would have been worshipped for my healthy appetite, large hips and vibrant personality. It would be me that survives, not someone with a waist smaller than a pencil and a head filled with nothing but hot air. But somehow its pencils a la hot air that attract all the men? I know that I would prefer to be with someone that was ugly but had a bit of pizazz about them that someone who looked like they had just stepped off stage from a Chippendale's show - Not that a Chippendale is my idea of a perfect man. In fact it couldn't be further from the truth.
I enjoy a man who is manly with a dash of femininity. Someone who takes care of themselves, but not too much. I also like a nice, jumper-wearing, guy who can make me laugh and that gets along with my friends and family. They're the people he will need to impress the most. I enjoy running my fingers through hair whilst in the moment if you follow the drift and I like other bodily hair, but I don't want to date chewbacca. I find little tufts of hair tucked away under the arms and on the chest cute and sweet. I just want a nice man to bring home to my family and friends, that isn't going to hurt me in the way that everyone has - With the exception of Mr. Ginge. I don't think that's too much to ask for? Well that and my four point check-list is also preferable ... Hair, Eyes, Shoes and Teeth.
Mind you, maybe the fact that most people my age aren't on dating websites or in the national papers appealing for dates should tells me that its not normal to get hung up on finding someone so young. I just feel that maybe time is ticking. I wasted so much time on Mr. Workaholic building our dreams and future that when it all collapsed I had nothing left. everything was burnt and that makes me want to be fire retardant for the rest of my life, but I cant help it, I just fall in love so easily. I'm not ready at the age of twenty-one to settle down and have the kids and the dog and the house and the nine-to-five yet. I still want to live my life. I have so much to see and do. I want to go on a crazy holiday to a party island with all my friends and drink so much we have to be carted home by the locals. I want to travel and see some of the world. I want to have some more nights that I think to myself 'Oh god, did I really do that?'
And so round and round I go with the quarterly-life crisis that is - To date or not to date? That is the question? I think I am ready, but am I really? I have a lot going on at the moment and a corker of a summer just around the corner - Would I really want to share that with anyone? I doubts it. Besides Ive got to move out soon. I have seen a few places and have a couple lined up to go and see some more but yes, it seems that it wont be long before I shall be broadcasting from a new location. Where is another matter though ...
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Tuesday, 11 June 2013
A Week In Paradise With The Tweedles
Afternoon guys,
So, last time we spoke I was on my balcony looking out towards the beach and anticipating the next seven days with Miss Tweedle-Dumb and Miss Tweedle-Dee. And what an amazing way to spend those seven days. Miss Tweedle-Dumb, Miss Tweedle-Dee and I have not spent a single day away from the beach and have indulged in some of our favourite holiday activities including getting so tanned we look like locals and the girls dragging me out to sea so far I can't touch the floor and freak out.
Miss Tweedle-Dee has now got an arm the size of Jupiter as she has been bitten by Mosquito's so much and as a result has an arm the would resemble something from the plague. I however have not been cursed and for some odd reason the Mozzies prefer her blood, which I'm not complaining at. In fact one evening just before I tucked Miss Tweedle-Dumb and Miss Tweedle-Dee in bed they alerted me to a speck on our ceiling which was indeed a Mosquito. Without a seconds thought and wanting to protect my friends from the blood-thirsty fiend I took a magazine, jumped on the bed and whacked him so hard I nearly went flying. After finding my balance again I realised that there was screams and laughter erupting from where the girls lay. Looking up to the ceiling I found out why. I had hit the poor insect so hard he had exploded a beautiful blood splat right in his place. Worried that our cleaner may notice I explained how it wasn't noticeable, although we all new it was there for the remainder of our holiday.
Along with the odd insect murder on our hands we also lived out some childhood dreams. As Miss Tweedle-Dumb, Miss Tweedle-Dee and I have known each other for years we knew what sort of upbringings we have had, Miss Tweedle-Dumb and I especially. So on the first day we bought a Lilo each and never looked back. We rode the waves and even attempted to surf on the inflatables, that is until Miss Tweedle-Dumb's died of deflation. All three of us turned into kids for the majority of the week often having more than one ice-cream a day and sometimes even for brunch! We got on a Pedalo and rode out to see and even went on a boat trip which was lots if fun.
Playing a game of 'Inuendo Bingo' also provided a source of entertainment when Miss Tweedle-Dumb and I sat down with a mouth full of water and waiting to see who would crumble first at the sound of something funny from Miss Tweedle-Dee's holiday read. Lets just say that we both got very, very wet. Thankfully though no arguments apart from something trivial which ended up with Miss Tweedle-Dumb throwing water at me, I squirted sun cream at her and before we knew it we had coated the whole apartment in sun lotion and water which made for a very slippery surface as Miss Tweedle-Dumb found out. Attempting to chase me into the bedroom to get me with the water she slipped on the creamy floor and fell right onto her bottom. Definately the top highlight of my holiday.
There was some serious stuff too. I have had a lot to think about and have come to the conclusion that whilst I love Miss Tweedle-Dumb and Miss Tweedle-Dee, as well as my family and other friends; I am ready for a change in scenery. I have thought for a long time about moving away and maybe spending a few months living somewhere different. Dublin, Ireland maybe or somewhere closer like Cardiff, Wales. I want to do it over this coming Winter, maybe October 'til March next year - Just some time to find myself and gain some experience of the world. Wherever I go though I am sure I shall have some tales to tell. And who knows I may even find 'The One'.
Speaking of which I have been thinking about the scary world that is dating for a while now and I think it's about time to get back out there. So after a year of being single after the train-wreck that was my last relationship I am finally ready to meet someone new - And Miss Tweedle-Dee is too! As soon as we get back from sunny Majorca I plan on looking into speed dating for Miss Tweedle-Dee, Miss Chocolate and I. We all need to find our Prince Charming and he won't come looking for us, despite how much we want him to arrive at our workplace one day on a white steed carrying a large bouquet of flowers and a box of fine chocolates. I am positive that Mr. Right is out there for me and all my friends, they just need hunting down and capturing.
And so we come to the end of another week, this time it was in the sun. Sadly though our flight back home to a drizzly Blighty is tonight. Speaking of which I best go and find Miss Tweedle-Dumb and Miss Tweedle-Dee. I left them outside to catch some rays again. I hope they haven't been cremated ...
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Tuesday, 26 February 2013
I Would Like To Avoid Feburary, Please
Good day to you all,
After last weeks episode from Mr. Coffee I am glad to say that he is now well and truly out of my way and permanently excluded from my 'to do list'. I have been thinking alot lately about my love-life, or the somewhat lack of it. I thought about Mr. Mot and how he has suddenly grown a conscience and wants to be a faithful boyfriend despite his girlfriends drama and his insatiable appetite for sex. I have thought of Mr. Coffee and how much I invested in such a short amount of time, only to be taken for a ride and left high and dry. I thought about how much energy and time I put into Mr. Workaholic, as well as building our life together. All of it now wasted. I thought about how easily and quickly I fall for guys, and how hard I hit the ground. Are these just my issues or do other people deal with this in life too?
I have had a fragile week to say the least. This time last year I was in sunny yet slightly chilly Cyprus with Mr. Workaholic and his family on holiday. This, I feel, was the holiday in which he made up his mind that he didn't want to be with me anymore. Valentine's Day doesn't help much either. To be honest I didn't really notice until the middle of last week when I recognised the date and then realised why. I would much rather pretend I had never been to Cyprus and that it all never happened. But that's impossible. Even if I delete tangible memories they will forever be scratched into my mind. I had to call him earlier actually to sort out some financial issues but whilst dialling his number I felt sick and nervous, violently shaking. I was imaging Mr. Workaholic scramble around for his phone or him picking it up in a local pub surrounded by friends. Hearing his voice flooded my body with feelings, both good and bad. The phone call was brief but I still sometimes wonder about Mr. Workaholic. Does he talk about me to his friends and family? Does he think about me? Is he reminded of me regularly? Is he safe and well? I laugh sometimes. Regardless of how much Mr. Workaholic broke me, I still care for him and to an extent still love him. I gave up everything for this one person who in the end could never really give me a proper reason as to why he left. I don't ever think I can love anyone as much as I loved that guy. (I would say man but after everything he put me through as well as some of the weird and wonderful lets say 'experimental' moments he has encountered with the same sex I doubt that we can call Mr. Workaholic a true man? But that is to be shared for another time - Tell you what, leave a comment if you want to hear what happened, including all the gorey details!)
Getting slightly depressive now though so I shall brighten up the mood with some of this weeks anecdotes. After not hearing from Mr. Waistcoat for a while I decided to text him, making up some excuse I had been away and that was the reason for lack of contact. Anyway, I explained briefly but concisely how I would like to go on a date with him. However as I have heard nothing for seventy-two hours I can only presume that its a polite 'No'. Upon this I decided to launch myself into something of a new hobby. Dating of the online variety. I could sit at home in just my under-garments or on the train home from work and liaise with other like minded males about subjects of interest, gradually, maybe working towards an actual encounter that doesn't involve a screen and a good Internet connection. I think that it might teach me to become more resilient to a mans charm and coax me into opening my eyes more when it comes to meeting men. Its only early and I haven't really spent that much time looking at successful candidates yet but all in good time. After all a foggy club at 2.54am whilst drunk and wearing heels is never a good first impression. Plus it will add a whole new dimension to my life, giving you my dear readers something else to dive into when you need a pick-me-up!
I'm off for a weekend away with Miss Tweedle-Dee and Miss Tweedle-Dumb and shall be back next week with some juicy tales!
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
After last weeks episode from Mr. Coffee I am glad to say that he is now well and truly out of my way and permanently excluded from my 'to do list'. I have been thinking alot lately about my love-life, or the somewhat lack of it. I thought about Mr. Mot and how he has suddenly grown a conscience and wants to be a faithful boyfriend despite his girlfriends drama and his insatiable appetite for sex. I have thought of Mr. Coffee and how much I invested in such a short amount of time, only to be taken for a ride and left high and dry. I thought about how much energy and time I put into Mr. Workaholic, as well as building our life together. All of it now wasted. I thought about how easily and quickly I fall for guys, and how hard I hit the ground. Are these just my issues or do other people deal with this in life too?
I have had a fragile week to say the least. This time last year I was in sunny yet slightly chilly Cyprus with Mr. Workaholic and his family on holiday. This, I feel, was the holiday in which he made up his mind that he didn't want to be with me anymore. Valentine's Day doesn't help much either. To be honest I didn't really notice until the middle of last week when I recognised the date and then realised why. I would much rather pretend I had never been to Cyprus and that it all never happened. But that's impossible. Even if I delete tangible memories they will forever be scratched into my mind. I had to call him earlier actually to sort out some financial issues but whilst dialling his number I felt sick and nervous, violently shaking. I was imaging Mr. Workaholic scramble around for his phone or him picking it up in a local pub surrounded by friends. Hearing his voice flooded my body with feelings, both good and bad. The phone call was brief but I still sometimes wonder about Mr. Workaholic. Does he talk about me to his friends and family? Does he think about me? Is he reminded of me regularly? Is he safe and well? I laugh sometimes. Regardless of how much Mr. Workaholic broke me, I still care for him and to an extent still love him. I gave up everything for this one person who in the end could never really give me a proper reason as to why he left. I don't ever think I can love anyone as much as I loved that guy. (I would say man but after everything he put me through as well as some of the weird and wonderful lets say 'experimental' moments he has encountered with the same sex I doubt that we can call Mr. Workaholic a true man? But that is to be shared for another time - Tell you what, leave a comment if you want to hear what happened, including all the gorey details!)
Getting slightly depressive now though so I shall brighten up the mood with some of this weeks anecdotes. After not hearing from Mr. Waistcoat for a while I decided to text him, making up some excuse I had been away and that was the reason for lack of contact. Anyway, I explained briefly but concisely how I would like to go on a date with him. However as I have heard nothing for seventy-two hours I can only presume that its a polite 'No'. Upon this I decided to launch myself into something of a new hobby. Dating of the online variety. I could sit at home in just my under-garments or on the train home from work and liaise with other like minded males about subjects of interest, gradually, maybe working towards an actual encounter that doesn't involve a screen and a good Internet connection. I think that it might teach me to become more resilient to a mans charm and coax me into opening my eyes more when it comes to meeting men. Its only early and I haven't really spent that much time looking at successful candidates yet but all in good time. After all a foggy club at 2.54am whilst drunk and wearing heels is never a good first impression. Plus it will add a whole new dimension to my life, giving you my dear readers something else to dive into when you need a pick-me-up!
I'm off for a weekend away with Miss Tweedle-Dee and Miss Tweedle-Dumb and shall be back next week with some juicy tales!
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Tuesday, 22 January 2013
Past and Present
Evening Guys,
And so this week begins. A week - up until this evening was normal. The weekend to be honest was very uneventful whereby I spent the entire thing lying in my bed only to come out of my self-made 'Lady-Cave' for food and a shower. Sums me up perfectly really.
Tonight Miss Tweedle-Dumb and Miss Tweedle-Dee coming round to have a catch up after I have had my dinner and they have been hiding in a pub round the corner for fear of embarrassing themselves in front of my Dad who has known them for years. Regardless the evening started in good spirit, laughing and joking as we reminisced of the good old days. We talked a little of Mr. Coffee, but not as much as I would have liked given the fact that he is still on my brain.
We have arranged a girlie weekend away to Newcastle at the beginning of March and am looking forward to it alot, if a little apprehensious about the the trip to an area of the country that holds such painful and vivid connotations and memories. In the pasted I have visited twice, both times with my Ex - Mr. Workaholic. As well as that we watched YouTube.com videos, discussed fashion and planned our holiday to Majorca (I know - its changed). It has now been booked and paid for ... Shhh - Don't tell Daddy! Playing around on my old and faithful laptop I stumbled across some photos of us from when we were kids and started to flick. Only when I tried to escape did they catch the folder I had long forgotten contained the first trip abroad I had ever taken. With Mr. Workaholic. And his mother and partner. Tad awkward you could say. Upon closer inspection of the lost archive of photos and memoirs they found the videos that documented the very last days of my relationship with Mr. Workaholic as I knew it. Pawing through the videos I began to see just how blind I was to it all and how much of a good liar he was.
Don't get me wrong it wasn't a relationship that ended badly in the sense that there was infidelity or anything, just that he felt there was more out there than me and he wanted to find it all out. Mr. Workaholic had felt like this for a long time apparently and throughout that holiday everything seemed to change and his head started to wonder more than before. The videos were a stark and brutally honest reminder of how things genuinely used to be - Play fights that got out of hand, annoying each other, Mr. Workaholic putting me down or making foul comments, but also laughs and giggles and happiness. There was no playing up to the camera, or exaggerating anything. Just a true and honest relationship that would blossom further as the years rolled by. But that never came to be as in the coming weeks things became clearer to Mr. Workaholic and he decided to call it off in late Spring - nearly a year ago.
Miss Tweedle-Dumb and Miss Tweedle-Dee found the footage amusing and laughable both at my expense and Mr. Workaholic's. I however struggled to hear the voices of a happier time, let alone look at the screen that would clearly display what I lost. Holding back tears and the swelling that was getting bigger in my throat I soldiered on because I knew that my friends wanted to see them. See into a world that was exclusive to us and see what it was like, maybe trying to work out where it all went wrong. They would never admit it but they could see how happy I was with him and how devastated I was having to relive every bit of it just for there enjoyment. I looked at the screen several times and after building up enough courage and immunity to the films I decided to watch the next one in full without turning away. I couldn't. "And here comes my girlfriend..." a friendly voice chirped happily as I appeared on camera. I shut it down as the girls turned to each other and one let out an "Awwh" As we continued through the collection of little home-movies I found it harder. but not as hard as the last few.
One of the last clips to play was the hardest. I double-clicked to open it and on came the screen, filled with my face and his. Mr. Workaholic. He kissed my on the cheek. He said "I love you" He cuddled me. I started to crumble. It finished playing and as I looked back at my trusted pals I started to sob. I felt so stupid. Why should I be crying over something that was over nearly a year ago? Comforting words were given and a few apologetic rubs of the arm, mixed in with many bad language to describe Mr. Workaholic's attitude towards me in some of the less upbeat videos. I know they felt bad about forcing me to watch them but I needed to. It will make me stronger and better in the long run. You need to give someone a shot of poison before they get better. After that they swiftly left, not before scarring my mind with an indecent video of young lady trying to digest a sanitary component. They know I hate talking about periods .... Ewwww - even typing makes me feel like throwing up. Just for the record I call that time of the month 'Carrie' as the first 8 minutes of the Hollywood-flick Carrie completely sums how I feel about it up. If you haven't seen it then you need to. YouTube.com it now!
I am now sitting on the edge of my bed contemplating the fact that this has opened up a Pandora's box that I never wanted to return to, and now I am, especially after such recent issues as Mr. Coffee, It makes me wonder weather calling the whole thing off with him was a good idea. Mr. Workaholic was nice at times but he was also very mean and degrading to me where as Mr. Coffee is nice and sweet. He is all holding hands and kissing on the cheek. I like that. I like him. Maybe I should do something about it?
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
And so this week begins. A week - up until this evening was normal. The weekend to be honest was very uneventful whereby I spent the entire thing lying in my bed only to come out of my self-made 'Lady-Cave' for food and a shower. Sums me up perfectly really.
Tonight Miss Tweedle-Dumb and Miss Tweedle-Dee coming round to have a catch up after I have had my dinner and they have been hiding in a pub round the corner for fear of embarrassing themselves in front of my Dad who has known them for years. Regardless the evening started in good spirit, laughing and joking as we reminisced of the good old days. We talked a little of Mr. Coffee, but not as much as I would have liked given the fact that he is still on my brain.
We have arranged a girlie weekend away to Newcastle at the beginning of March and am looking forward to it alot, if a little apprehensious about the the trip to an area of the country that holds such painful and vivid connotations and memories. In the pasted I have visited twice, both times with my Ex - Mr. Workaholic. As well as that we watched YouTube.com videos, discussed fashion and planned our holiday to Majorca (I know - its changed). It has now been booked and paid for ... Shhh - Don't tell Daddy! Playing around on my old and faithful laptop I stumbled across some photos of us from when we were kids and started to flick. Only when I tried to escape did they catch the folder I had long forgotten contained the first trip abroad I had ever taken. With Mr. Workaholic. And his mother and partner. Tad awkward you could say. Upon closer inspection of the lost archive of photos and memoirs they found the videos that documented the very last days of my relationship with Mr. Workaholic as I knew it. Pawing through the videos I began to see just how blind I was to it all and how much of a good liar he was.
Don't get me wrong it wasn't a relationship that ended badly in the sense that there was infidelity or anything, just that he felt there was more out there than me and he wanted to find it all out. Mr. Workaholic had felt like this for a long time apparently and throughout that holiday everything seemed to change and his head started to wonder more than before. The videos were a stark and brutally honest reminder of how things genuinely used to be - Play fights that got out of hand, annoying each other, Mr. Workaholic putting me down or making foul comments, but also laughs and giggles and happiness. There was no playing up to the camera, or exaggerating anything. Just a true and honest relationship that would blossom further as the years rolled by. But that never came to be as in the coming weeks things became clearer to Mr. Workaholic and he decided to call it off in late Spring - nearly a year ago.
Miss Tweedle-Dumb and Miss Tweedle-Dee found the footage amusing and laughable both at my expense and Mr. Workaholic's. I however struggled to hear the voices of a happier time, let alone look at the screen that would clearly display what I lost. Holding back tears and the swelling that was getting bigger in my throat I soldiered on because I knew that my friends wanted to see them. See into a world that was exclusive to us and see what it was like, maybe trying to work out where it all went wrong. They would never admit it but they could see how happy I was with him and how devastated I was having to relive every bit of it just for there enjoyment. I looked at the screen several times and after building up enough courage and immunity to the films I decided to watch the next one in full without turning away. I couldn't. "And here comes my girlfriend..." a friendly voice chirped happily as I appeared on camera. I shut it down as the girls turned to each other and one let out an "Awwh" As we continued through the collection of little home-movies I found it harder. but not as hard as the last few.
One of the last clips to play was the hardest. I double-clicked to open it and on came the screen, filled with my face and his. Mr. Workaholic. He kissed my on the cheek. He said "I love you" He cuddled me. I started to crumble. It finished playing and as I looked back at my trusted pals I started to sob. I felt so stupid. Why should I be crying over something that was over nearly a year ago? Comforting words were given and a few apologetic rubs of the arm, mixed in with many bad language to describe Mr. Workaholic's attitude towards me in some of the less upbeat videos. I know they felt bad about forcing me to watch them but I needed to. It will make me stronger and better in the long run. You need to give someone a shot of poison before they get better. After that they swiftly left, not before scarring my mind with an indecent video of young lady trying to digest a sanitary component. They know I hate talking about periods .... Ewwww - even typing makes me feel like throwing up. Just for the record I call that time of the month 'Carrie' as the first 8 minutes of the Hollywood-flick Carrie completely sums how I feel about it up. If you haven't seen it then you need to. YouTube.com it now!
I am now sitting on the edge of my bed contemplating the fact that this has opened up a Pandora's box that I never wanted to return to, and now I am, especially after such recent issues as Mr. Coffee, It makes me wonder weather calling the whole thing off with him was a good idea. Mr. Workaholic was nice at times but he was also very mean and degrading to me where as Mr. Coffee is nice and sweet. He is all holding hands and kissing on the cheek. I like that. I like him. Maybe I should do something about it?
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Tuesday, 15 January 2013
An Indecisive Making A Decision
Heyy everyone,
So this past week, especially this weekend, has been eventful. You could say that for someone that is so indecisive I have finally made a decision. One though that is both shocking as well as somewhat saddening too.
After spending the Friday night round Miss Tweedle-Dee's house with Miss Tweedle-Dumb too, planning our holiday. We have now decided to head further north into one of the other Spanish islands. I think we have settled on Majorca. Seems lovely wherever it is although slightly history repeating itself since all of our parents have been there as kids around our age. Granted it wasn't called 'Shagaluf' back then but I am sure that we will have all the fun and frolics we did last time we all ended up in a grotty apartment with a tub of Aloe Vera and stinging sunburn. On the Saturday morning, after some arguments regarding travel to do with another acquaintance; we headed onto a local market come car boot sale. With weather conditions suitable for a flock of penguins we trawled around stalls harbouring knock-offs and general tit-tat. Once we had acquired some hot beverages and small donuts we headed back for the car only to have a freak out as we try to navigate out of a friggin' air field. In the afternoon Miss Tweedle-Dumb dropped me off at Mr. Coffee's place as Miss Tweedle-Dee had forgotten her house keys and so we couldn't go back to her abode.
After that my weekend was spent mostly with Mr. Coffee, chatting, watching movies, getting caught having sex in the kitchen by his best friend - who is currently not in a relationship which for me makes this embarrassment all the more worse! Yeah so just the usual really. After much deliberation Mr. Coffee, his friend and I all decided to go out to dinner, after which we all ventured into the local town to have a drink. However after attempting all evening to talk to Mr. Coffee honestly and openly about how I felt and where 'we' were going in our relationship (if you can even call it that) I gave up and continued to drink until it was home-time. That evening we went to bed and had an eventful evening apparently keeping the house up with our antics - not that there was much going on! Sunday Morning I walked with Mr. Coffee to work where I then caught a bus to the Station.
On the journey back home I had alot to think about. The numerous incidents of unfulfilled sex and the seemingly unenthusiastic attitude of his truly were really stressing me out and adding to my already growing frustration. I wanted to tell him all of these things and how they make me feel and how I am scared of another relationship after what happened last time. But I couldn't. I spoke to several friends and then made up my mind to put him straight. I called him and discussed everything, but as usual there was always something that got in the way and eventually I decided to call it off with Mr. Coffee. It was horrible and I hate myself for doing it but I know it was the right thing to do - for now at least.
Hopefully next week will be better.
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
So this past week, especially this weekend, has been eventful. You could say that for someone that is so indecisive I have finally made a decision. One though that is both shocking as well as somewhat saddening too.
After spending the Friday night round Miss Tweedle-Dee's house with Miss Tweedle-Dumb too, planning our holiday. We have now decided to head further north into one of the other Spanish islands. I think we have settled on Majorca. Seems lovely wherever it is although slightly history repeating itself since all of our parents have been there as kids around our age. Granted it wasn't called 'Shagaluf' back then but I am sure that we will have all the fun and frolics we did last time we all ended up in a grotty apartment with a tub of Aloe Vera and stinging sunburn. On the Saturday morning, after some arguments regarding travel to do with another acquaintance; we headed onto a local market come car boot sale. With weather conditions suitable for a flock of penguins we trawled around stalls harbouring knock-offs and general tit-tat. Once we had acquired some hot beverages and small donuts we headed back for the car only to have a freak out as we try to navigate out of a friggin' air field. In the afternoon Miss Tweedle-Dumb dropped me off at Mr. Coffee's place as Miss Tweedle-Dee had forgotten her house keys and so we couldn't go back to her abode.
After that my weekend was spent mostly with Mr. Coffee, chatting, watching movies, getting caught having sex in the kitchen by his best friend - who is currently not in a relationship which for me makes this embarrassment all the more worse! Yeah so just the usual really. After much deliberation Mr. Coffee, his friend and I all decided to go out to dinner, after which we all ventured into the local town to have a drink. However after attempting all evening to talk to Mr. Coffee honestly and openly about how I felt and where 'we' were going in our relationship (if you can even call it that) I gave up and continued to drink until it was home-time. That evening we went to bed and had an eventful evening apparently keeping the house up with our antics - not that there was much going on! Sunday Morning I walked with Mr. Coffee to work where I then caught a bus to the Station.
On the journey back home I had alot to think about. The numerous incidents of unfulfilled sex and the seemingly unenthusiastic attitude of his truly were really stressing me out and adding to my already growing frustration. I wanted to tell him all of these things and how they make me feel and how I am scared of another relationship after what happened last time. But I couldn't. I spoke to several friends and then made up my mind to put him straight. I called him and discussed everything, but as usual there was always something that got in the way and eventually I decided to call it off with Mr. Coffee. It was horrible and I hate myself for doing it but I know it was the right thing to do - for now at least.
Hopefully next week will be better.
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Tuesday, 8 January 2013
The 'L' Word
Hi Guys, Hope you have been keeping well since last week. Sorry I forgot to write last night I had the girls round and we were organising our Summer Holiday this year. So excited to be going back to the same resort as last year. Fuerteventura. Take two!
So the job is going well and I am settling nicely but it would be boring if I just yabbered on throughout this whole post about my job. As you can see from the title things are progressing rather fast in my love life right now. If you can even call it that? So things with the latest Beau are going well, if a little accelerated and that scares me in all honesty. Like I have already said, I don't want to jump head first into things only to find out that there was no water in the pool to begin with - If you follow my drift. 'Mr. Coffee' as he shall be known is sweet and a really nice guy but of course I am petrified of any commitment which is why I refuse to acknowledge the fact that I am starting to develop seriously strong feelings. And like a fine cheese or bottle of wine they will only get stronger. Weather this is a good thing or not is another matter. I am one of those annoying people who falls really quickly and really fast for any guy that shows me attention. I'm not easy, just easily fall for people.
I made a slight boo-boo at the weekend when I stayed over his and accidentally said 'OUR' when referring to the general and yet forward topic of weddings - Oops. Mr. Coffee was very gentlemanly and gracious about it though and we agreed never to talk of the incident again ... Unless it does happen and then we will probably laugh about it in our speeches, but this is just me being a human with a vagina over-thinking things again. Mr. Coffee has also now met my parents and I can honestly say that they like him. He came round for tea and whilst discussing subjects of common ground and interest between the two of us I had a few odd looks from both my seniors as if to say 'Well you two are meant to be together!' Comments of which I smiled shyly and continued to shovel Chicken Korma into my face-hole which I detested very much.
All in all I think we have a lot in common. He is good for me and makes me happy and all, I just don't know if the 'L' word will ever escape from my lips again. Especially after last time. He is not Brad Pitt and he doesn't really have much going on but I like him and regardless of his abnormally hairy back, quirky ways and inability sometimes to have grown up since we were in high school together - I am going to try to make it work this time. I know not all my friends approve but I hope that in time they'll realise just how nice and good he is for me.
Anyway must dash, got dinner on the table.
‘Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
So the job is going well and I am settling nicely but it would be boring if I just yabbered on throughout this whole post about my job. As you can see from the title things are progressing rather fast in my love life right now. If you can even call it that? So things with the latest Beau are going well, if a little accelerated and that scares me in all honesty. Like I have already said, I don't want to jump head first into things only to find out that there was no water in the pool to begin with - If you follow my drift. 'Mr. Coffee' as he shall be known is sweet and a really nice guy but of course I am petrified of any commitment which is why I refuse to acknowledge the fact that I am starting to develop seriously strong feelings. And like a fine cheese or bottle of wine they will only get stronger. Weather this is a good thing or not is another matter. I am one of those annoying people who falls really quickly and really fast for any guy that shows me attention. I'm not easy, just easily fall for people.
I made a slight boo-boo at the weekend when I stayed over his and accidentally said 'OUR' when referring to the general and yet forward topic of weddings - Oops. Mr. Coffee was very gentlemanly and gracious about it though and we agreed never to talk of the incident again ... Unless it does happen and then we will probably laugh about it in our speeches, but this is just me being a human with a vagina over-thinking things again. Mr. Coffee has also now met my parents and I can honestly say that they like him. He came round for tea and whilst discussing subjects of common ground and interest between the two of us I had a few odd looks from both my seniors as if to say 'Well you two are meant to be together!' Comments of which I smiled shyly and continued to shovel Chicken Korma into my face-hole which I detested very much.
All in all I think we have a lot in common. He is good for me and makes me happy and all, I just don't know if the 'L' word will ever escape from my lips again. Especially after last time. He is not Brad Pitt and he doesn't really have much going on but I like him and regardless of his abnormally hairy back, quirky ways and inability sometimes to have grown up since we were in high school together - I am going to try to make it work this time. I know not all my friends approve but I hope that in time they'll realise just how nice and good he is for me.
Anyway must dash, got dinner on the table.
‘Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Tuesday, 1 January 2013
Welcome
OK. So firstly welcome to my blog and the first post of the new year. It is January the fist and like many other people across the country I have made a few new year resolutions for 2013. I firstly thought that maybe getting a job might be a good idea and then on Christmas eve I had a phone call from a interview I had earlier in the week and was told that the job was mine. So now I am a working women as an administrator and general clerical assistant for a local flooring company. I start tomorrow. Find a job. Tick!
Next on my new years resolutions list is to loose some chunk. I am not a BBW as they would say in the industry but I am not a skinny french fry either I like to class myself as a 'normal' sized women and enjoy flaunting the fact that I'm not a twig. But yes I think that I could do with some toning up and slimming down. At some point as well during the new year, I want to move out of my parents place and into an abode of my own. My friends have already started buying me things for my new pad and I cant wait to finally have a place to call and make home. Once I have my own place I want to purchase a little French bulldog puppy. I have no name ideas as yet but I kinda wanna keep it French but would be grateful for any suggestions.
On another one of my many growing plus points so far this year is a possible blossoming 'thing'. I don't want to divulge too much as I don't want to spoil something before it has even happened. He is a childhood sweetheart and we re-kindled our friendship just before Christmas last year. He is very sweet and extremely overprotective, which is an odd experience for an independent and self-sufficient young lady such as myself. We are planning a few dates and I really do enjoy spending time with him but I want to take it slow and not end up in he same train wreck that I did last time I said the 'L' word and fell head over heels for someone. Slow and steady won the race said the tortoise.
And so now I shall make like the tortoise and sign off for the evening. After the night I had last night I think I need a well deserved bath and a catch up with my telly.
'Til next time, Love A.Lou :) xx
Next on my new years resolutions list is to loose some chunk. I am not a BBW as they would say in the industry but I am not a skinny french fry either I like to class myself as a 'normal' sized women and enjoy flaunting the fact that I'm not a twig. But yes I think that I could do with some toning up and slimming down. At some point as well during the new year, I want to move out of my parents place and into an abode of my own. My friends have already started buying me things for my new pad and I cant wait to finally have a place to call and make home. Once I have my own place I want to purchase a little French bulldog puppy. I have no name ideas as yet but I kinda wanna keep it French but would be grateful for any suggestions.
On another one of my many growing plus points so far this year is a possible blossoming 'thing'. I don't want to divulge too much as I don't want to spoil something before it has even happened. He is a childhood sweetheart and we re-kindled our friendship just before Christmas last year. He is very sweet and extremely overprotective, which is an odd experience for an independent and self-sufficient young lady such as myself. We are planning a few dates and I really do enjoy spending time with him but I want to take it slow and not end up in he same train wreck that I did last time I said the 'L' word and fell head over heels for someone. Slow and steady won the race said the tortoise.
And so now I shall make like the tortoise and sign off for the evening. After the night I had last night I think I need a well deserved bath and a catch up with my telly.
'Til next time, Love A.Lou :) xx
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