23 but 80 on the outside...

So it's been 4 months...I'm now 23! And I am a bad gingey for not being in touch, but I've been otherwise engaged with non other than MR BACON MAN! That's right, I finally have a boyfriend!

It seems that Mr. Bacon man has also turned me into a bit of a porker, I've put on 9 whole pounds and I wasn't exactly the slimmest kitten in the litter in the first place! Thus, tonight I joined flab fighters (aka fatties anonymous). I am now inspired to loose my love handles (/my confidence has been crushed like a rabbit on a bypass so that I'll never want to eat again).

In addition, my body seems to be slowly deteriorating around me (is this what happens when you get a partner?). I had to have my ears syringed today. A plug 6 cm long and 0.5 cm in diameter was removed!!! And what's most disturbing is how excited/satisfied I was with this. I think I would really enjoy a colonic irrigation, but that would play hell with my piles.

Yes, I also have piles.

And the pill makes me crazy.

And my vadge looks like a smashed crab most of the time because my monthly cycle is basically fucked.

Perhaps this relationship melark isn't all that it's cracked upto be?!?!!

Is it wrong to date your brother's friend?

Thoughts?

Bacon home delivery service

Recieved possibly one of the greatest doorstep presents EVER. Apart from our daily milk delivery, that is. 

So I'm dying a slow and painful, alcohol related death right now. And what is the only known cure for such an ailment? Bacon. 

To my horror, our usually well-stocked fridge and freezer showed a severe lack of the scrumptious pig belly. I tried to substitute with ham, but it just doesn't have that deliciously fried goodness. I thought the crisis may have been averted when my mum pottered over to our affectionately named 'little shop'. But once again my sleepy village failed to deliver. How can a village shop not have any bacon?? A travesty!!!

So I went back up to my room to fester, eventually dragging myself into the shower. On trapesing back into my room feeling particular vom-worthy, I received a text saying there was a present outside the door. 

BACON!

Best. Present. Ever.

Thankyou Mr.Bacon for supplying my bacon habit. I think I love you a little bit.

Who runs the world?

Beyonce rocks my socks...what a woman!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VBmMU_iwe6U

Somebody get me a doctor?

As the saying goes, you wait for one bus then three come at once. What a month! I went a-visiting one of my best friends from Uni this weekend. Had a fantabulous time, I bloody love my friends. Was not expecting/hoping/trying to meet anyone, but as it happens I met a VERY nice fellow at a BBQ we went to on the Saturday. Fit, Asian doctors are right up my street. 

Will keep you posted on this one...

xx

Dog walker update

Within 30 minutes of being back in my hometown after a weekend away I bump into Mr.Dog walker AGAIN, mid-run. This time he had girlfriend in tow. Cue sweaty first-time introductions. I sensed a little uneasiness on her part, but perhaps I was just being paranoid. Either way, she needn't worry, I was a sweaty bumbling mess! Good freaking times.

Will give you a weekend update shortly!

Lola xxx 

The dog walker

Seriously, forget spending hours getting glammed up to go on a pulling night with the girls, just get a dog. Not only will it keep you company on cold nights, protect you from evil postmen and shit on your sofa, but they are *the* best way to meet people/guys/girls.

I have proof.

So, we've already established that I still live with my parents. A few months ago they were getting ready to jet off to Tenerife, and we were making plans for the dogs during this time. I work long days, and through past (diarrhea-related) experiences, we've decided it's best if someone comes to check on them during the day. Convienently enough, in our sleepy little village, is a pet company that provides this exact service. For a few years now, a very reliable and lovely lady has been seeing to our pet needs, and once again we called on her assistance. Arriving home from work I saw the pet van outside the house, little did I know there would be a stonkingly fit FITTIE inside. Not only had Mandy provided us an excellent pet service all these years, but in replacement of herself (currently heavily pregnant) she had bused in what appeared to be none other than the Son of God/Heath Ledger.

I nearly had an orgasm right then and there.

He looked up from his crouched position, petting the dogs (petting the dogs! +100 man points) and mum and Mandy introduced me to this fine 20-something specimen. 'Steve will be looking after the dogs whilst your parents are away if that's ok?' Mandy inquired with a smile. He can Look after me too if he wants. 'Yep, no that's absolutely fine' I chimed. We made some other small talk, Steve would be taking over the buisness and moving into Mandy's old house in the village. Eventually it was time for them to leave. Cue excellent opportunity to swap numbers. Fucking yes. 'Do you want my number just incase you have any problems with the dogs or anything?'. Boom. Worked like a freaking charm. ThankYOU, doggies and your irritable bowel syndrome. I got his number in return, and that was that.

Texts ensued the follwing week, just with information about where the dogs leads were etc etc (stay with me here...it'll get more interesting). Then by the thursday night I recieved a text clearly not meant for me. I replied, telling him his error, and then followed an extensive text conversation. Oldest trick in the book perhaps? Either way, it got us chatting about things other than dogs.

He took me out in his dog van (dogging van?) on Sunday, and we went for a walk and chatted about life and family and interests. It was so refreshing to meet someone in a non-drunken manner, in such a pure and lucid way. Usually it would take me at least five double gin and slimlines to be comfortable with a man I barely knew. The reality was, though, that I was seeing Neil at the time, and later it emerged that Steve had a girlfirend also. I needed to finish things with Neil well before this anyway, but I think this sparked the fuse. I didn't want to do wrong by Neil, so continued speaking to Steve but kept things light and friendly, I also didn't want to be 'that person' between him and his girlfriend.

When I look back I feel like a bit of a knob. He told me they were having 'crisis talks' and asked if I wanted to go for a drink on the Friday. My sleepy village is so shocking that by 10pm on a FRIDAY NIGHT the pub was deserted, so we walked back (to the sound of his mobile phone ringtone, his girlfirend had called at least three times). I don't know what would've happened a the end of my road, but I think if I hadn't said a rapid goodbye and scampered back to my house then perhaps the embrace could've been something more, had it not been for my wake up call (literally). I called up the taxi rank and went straight into town to meet my friends. Fuck pure and lucid, I was going to get twatted. I left the ball in his court after that, we remained in contact but nothing has happened since, which is a shame but probably for the best.

What makes me think to tell you this story is because tonight I bumped into him on the way back from my run. Great. After weeks and weeks he chooses now. Basically the worst possible timing, with sweat pouring from every orrifice, sports bra barely holding those hush-puppies up and puce in the face. I managed to regain my breath enough to make some small talk and be mauled by the thousands of dogs he was surrounded by, adding the already delightful eau de Lola. Needless to say, even thought we were both free that night, neither of us got in touch.

However, dogs. They open doors. The doors may shut again, but at least I got to have a look around the room! *insert awesome proverb here*. Slightly concerned for when my parents take their next holiday though.


Next time you're scooping that poop, don't hate on your puppy, appreciate the possiblities and get a-looking for those fitties!

Train rant

I'm on a train. Have just been out for a meal with two of my (close) friends from university, one of whom is just in remission from Hodgkin's lymphoma.

From my previous (and initial) blogs, you may have thought this was all going to be boy/sex/relationship related, but I really hope it's not. Obviously, a lot of my mentionable moments come from these encounters, but I think this is because I am most inappropriate/socially incompetent at these times, which is what makes it so blog-worthy!

This particular insight into my daily life will probably be horrifically dull to the majority of you reading this, but I don't doubt that the various g&t's and Pinot grigio's I've had this evening have something to do with it.

I had a lovely night, and it was so nice to see old friends, but sometimes, just sometimes, I wish people respected me for who I am and what I say. Do you ever feel like people think your opinion doesn't count? Or like you don't know what you're talking about? I may not read the times, I may not know the ins and outs of privatisation in the NHS, but I try my hardest to get involved whilst being polite, thoughtful and respectful of other peoples views. Surely this deserves the same behaviour in return?

I hate to use the feminist card, but perhaps it was because I was one girl amongst two guys. And what's ironic is that whilst I want to be respected as an equal, it annoyed me that I was left to walk back to the station alone at 11pm in a dubious area. However, female or male, if someone has travelled all the way to see you, then walks halfway across town to go to a restaurant near your house AND sat on her own whilst you both go outside for your cigarettes mid-meal, is it not common courtesy to walk her to the station?

What happened to manners?

Jiz in my eye

The morning after is awkward enough without a pussing, half-closed red eye. This, combined with military style exit from offenders house to avoid parents and siblings, cash collection for taxi at morrisons in stilettos at 10.30am and an explanation to your brother, who's house you should have been staying at, made for potentially one of the worst walk of shames to date. Apart from the hickey incident. And the toga incident. And the onsie incident.

Sigh.

It's been a long, red eye day.

Surfs up

So I'm listening to 'Real Estate - Fake Blues' whilst wearing a ridiculous head scarf/head dress/bandeau, feeling like I could be surfing on San Fransisco bay with the beach boys.

That is, if I wasn't surrounded by the copious amounts of random clutter in my room and unopened bills and letters I have been avoiding for at least 3 weeks (I wouldn't be surprised if some dated back to my birth). Some might even say this blog is a form of procrastination, I say it's integral for my sanity.

Surfer dude fantasy has been short lived though, damn Spotify and it's new 5-play per song rule! 

Today has been relatively uneventful for me, apart from the usual awkward situations that have become mandatory in my daily life. I've contemplated whether to fill you in on the back story, but feel it will gradually spill out in a beautiful technicolour as chance encounters and past events have a way of rearing their ugly, but sometimes beautiful, heads.

It's not great when your computer F's up mid-study writing, and your recent ex is the IT manager though.  

Cue embarrassing phone call at 09.30am. Definitely didn't mention that a few seconds before the computer died I'd been googling the Gossip Girl finale episode. 

I'd always been against inter-work relations, I just think it's a major risk, if it goes pear shaped it makes it super awkward for everyone involved and just generally...no!! But I've never, ever been asked, whilst sober, on a proper date before.

Let me put you in the picture. I work for a company where I spend most of my time in labs or an office writing reports. I know most of the 300 people in the company, but not this particular individual as IT keep themselves to themselves in stereotypical IT style. However, one bright but cool day in February they were updating all the computers on site and, by coincidence (or not as it happened), Neil (not his real name for the sake of anonymity) came to update mine and my colleagues. I was in the Lab most of the day and he darted in and out, until late afternoon when I was alone.

''Lola, can I borrow you for a second?'' Neil called. Oh god, what had he found, had I accidentally managed to save some horrific porn on my computer? ''Um...yeah sure!'' I scuttled over wondering what on earth he could want. He peered up from the computer with a bashful smile on his face. Oh god, he had found porn. ''I'm going to put you on the spot now...'' oh god oh god oh god ''would you mind if I took you out for dinner sometime?''. I don't know what I was most happy about, being asked on an actual date, in a gentlemanly style, SOBER and FACE TO FACE by practically a stranger, or the fact that I didn't have an dubious material on my computer. 

Obviously I said yes, for a second I thought it may be a pity date (I had been conversing rather loudly about my brief encounter with eharmony and how terribly single I was) . I even asked if he was joking. We dated for a couple of months until a few weeks ago, but for various reasons, which I may go into at a later date, it didn't work out.

Anyway, unfortunately I must cut this blog short, mothers have a tendency to rear their ugly heads when they see aforementioned clutter when I'd promised to sort it out 3 hours ago. 22 going on 13. Oh well.

Lola xx

The beginning

My first blog. I feel like this should be a momentous occasion, where I write something really profound, or at the very least marginally witty.

However it's 23:31, I'm on my jam rag, and quite frankly I cannot be hooped.

Lesson number one; I am better known as Inappropriate Bunky, so the weak-hearted should probably stop reading now. I will often say whatever comes into my head, which is why I feel that a blog would be a good outlet for some my jabberings.

Anyway, hopefully some of the ridiculous events that seem to occur oh too frequently in my life will keep you entertained, and if not at least provide a platform for me to document them. 

I'll keep you posted!

Lola xx