Ve Have Vays of Making You Tock

This meme has been making the rounds and I finally decided to jump on the bandwagon. Well, I do have an entire chapter of my dissertation to write by tomorrow, I was begging for such an opportunity to procrastinate! Here are my questions from the lovely Brandy.

1. If you could leave a time capsule the size of a microwave that would be opened in a century, what would you put in it to represent the world now?

Hmmm. I don't know if I would be comfortable with the responsibility of representing the world. I would probably try to represent here.

Ergo, I would put in things like pieces of artwork that depict the city (I have a particular one in mind but can't find it on the whole of the world wide web! Tch.) A miniature Super Lamb Banana. The White Album. But none of these things would really translate. There is a feel about this city, maybe because it's home. My boyfriend tells a story about when he was young, being dragged around town shopping by his parents and complaining that it was boring, when his uncle told him to look up. He did and has been fascinated by the architecture of Liverpool ever since. I know it inspires a mixed reaction, but I love my accent. I love scouse boys. I love the waterfront. There are plenty of things I don't like, too. But this city has a soul, and it's the soul I love. Can you fit a soul into a microwave?

2. What was your favourite childhood toy?

When I was little, I loved books and Barbie in pretty much equal measures. None of my Barbie's were called Barbie; they all had individual names, personalities, and careers. One of my Barbie's had pink and purple streaks in her crimped hair, was called Rachel, dated 'Paul' and was in medical school. I made a stack of medical textbooks out of paper for her to carry around in a bowling bag I think I got with Ken. A denim jacket I got with a different Barbie was always 'hers'. But I think my favourite thing was the house. I got it one Christmas when I was really young, along with a bunch of furniture and a plastic mat painted up to be a garden. One day, I decided I was going to run away for some reason; I packed sandwiches, a Barbie, the Barbie bed and the plastic garden. I think I planned to run away to my grandmothers, who lived about five streets away. I was always very ambitious.

3. Why do you blog? (I'm always curious why people do...)

I started blogging because I love to write, but don't have the discipline or the belief in myself (or the talent) to write anything more solid than witterings from my daily life. I persevered with it because I enjoyed it and because it really helped me to stop writing in such an academic style. Sometimes I become disillusioned with blogging because I start to question the merits of my meagre contributions to the blogosphere. I think, who would want to read this? Is this valid? Posts like "Guess what happened today, oh my God, Alfie walked into a building, and then, then, he walked out! Insert crisis here," really don't help, but I find them cathartic. Writing a post is my way of getting these thoughts organised in my head.

I've also met some wicked people through blogging and sometimes I'll write something and will look forward to someones reaction to it. If I manage to finagle a comment out of a long time lurker, or a reluctant voice like MJ, it's a great feeling. And I actually miss people when they don't comment or don't update their own blogs for a while. I suppose that at its best, blogging makes me feel connected.

4. What's the hardest lesson you ever learned?

I'm struggling to answer this one because I don't want to sound pitiful. But in the spirit of catharsis, here it is. I'm still learning this lesson. And it's this: my voice deserves to be heard. I hate the way that sounds. I don't mean that my voice is more important than anyone elses, or that I have anything phenomenally insightful or rewarding to say. What I mean to say is, I have as much right to voice my opinion as anyone else; I matter, too. This sounds like a very generic answer, so I'll flesh it out some.

It came as a revelation to me at the age of about sixteen that instead of worrying whether someone liked me, I might want to consider whether I liked them. A revelation. When I met my boyfriend at seventeen, I fell for him because he made me feel like I was worth speaking to and spending time with - he was interested in me, what I had to say; he sought out my opinion before the opinion of others, he wanted to get to know me. Plus, he was crazily hot. I couldn't believe my luck.

I was a wallflower at school. My method of survival was to keep my head down. I still walk past people I know in the street sometimes because of this, or I don't say hello to people I went to school with, because I assume they won't remember me. Once, when I came top in an exam, the teacher didn't recognise my name and had to ask who I was. There are times when I try to be invisible, to go unnoticed. In a group, I am never the loud person. I don't fight to be heard. When I am unsure of myself, I become very softly spoken; my voice drops a few octaves mid-sentence. I can feel myself doing this, but I can't stop it. I am often talked over.

I am not a doormat, I stand up for myself and for others. Sometimes, I take this to extremes, and later, I regret it.

When I was born, the younger of my two sisters was ten years old. She resented me, and still does, because she wasn't the baby anymore. She personifies the term "middle child syndrome." I made her feel like nobody loved her anymore; I've felt like an imposition my whole life. When I talk, or sometimes just by being there, I feel like I'm imposing myself on you.

In almost every relationship or group situation, I feel expendable. Wearing my heart on my sleeve with Alfie, was one of the biggest risks I've ever taken in my life. And yet I ran into it blindly, with eagerness and almost without hesitation.

5. A dinner party for you and six people, who do you invite and why? (famous, not famous, alive or dead... you can invite whoever)

Although I am sure I would enjoy a dinner party for my nearest and dearest a whole lot more, let's plunge straight into fantasy land (I'm thinking of setting up house there permanently) and go with a cast of people I will never get to meet.

Robert Kennedy. I am really interested in the Kennedy's and the Civil Rights movement and count this man as one of my heroes.

Virginia Woolf. Anyone who can sell stream-of-consciousness writing is someone I have to meet.

Homi K. Bhabha. Is it massively geeky that I have a favourite literary theorist? Wait, don't even answer that one.

Amy Winehouse. I have to invite her! You know I'm Amy's bitch.

Oscar Wilde. A blatantly obvious choice which, I feel, requires no explanation. The man went to jail for the sake of a witty riposte. That's commitment.

Kate Winslet. Completely beautiful, down to earth, and articulate.

Voila!

I think I'm a bit slow on the uptake here and everyone has already been interviewed, but if you are interested, here are the rules:

- Leave me a comment including your email address saying, “Interview me!”

- I will respond by emailing you five questions. I get to pick them, and you have to answer them all. I'm real bossy like that.

- You will update your blog with the answers to the questions.
- You will include this explanation and an offer to interview someone else in the same post.

- When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions.

Falling at the First Hurdle

This weekend is Grand National weekend, and a pretty big deal. The Aintree races attract a huge number of visitors to the city. Yesterday was Ladies Day, and after an afternoon enjoying the races, people generally flock into the city centre to enjoy the bars. But aswell as those who have been betting on the horses, there is another group roaming the streets of Liverpool hoping their gamble pays off. That group is largely male; their prey the herds of Ladies Day women easy to spot in their large hats and formal clothing. I would just like you to bear this demographic in mind when I ask you a question in a paragraphs time.

I too was in town, having spent a lovely afternoon shopping with my sister and meeting up with Studmuffin in The Living Room at five for after-work drinks. I bought a sixties style shift dress thing, and my sister bought this really glamorous red dress in my size, which I will totally be borrowing at the first available opportunity (this means I will have to encourage her to wear it fairly soon, because borrowing something that's brand new isn't really cricket. Once it's had its first dry clean it's up for grabs.)

Now let me direct you to a sentence from a recent post of mine entitled 'Oh no, I'm that girl.'

I imagine myself shopping on a warm sunny day in town with MJ or somebody and spotting him in a bar at the same moment he notices me and exchanging a smile and not even talking to each other but just that little thing causes a spark and something picks back up again.

So, here's the question: guess who I bumped into?

It wasn't a bar, it was the slightly less romantic location of outside-Burger-King. And there was no spark (or I don't know, was there a spark, despite the awkardness?) and no picking back up of anything. I had been happily walking along between my sister and 'Muffin, minding my own business and probably talking about some totty 'Muffin had just spotted on our walk from bar to bar, when I looked up and saw Alfie. He was standing with his legs wide apart, pelvis forward, hands in pockets, grinning and waiting for me to notice him. The first thing I noticed, even from a distance, was that the receeding hairline had gone into major retreat. Not to be bitchy, because I still totally would, but he looked terrible.

Let's take a moment to discuss the outfit. As someone who prides himself on labels and fashionable ensembles, and who had the front to appoint himself as a style guru to 'Muffin, he ought to be ashamed of himself. It was even worse than the woolly scarf teamed with short sleeved white shirt in a hot club fiasco, a look that will for ever be associated with Quentin Crisp in my mind (thanks to Wondy.) There were wide linen trousers. White ones. With a visible ghetto-gold coloured zipper. There were tan coloured deck shoe things which defy description. And a black Russell Brand-ish shirt, which had only one button fastened and bared a hairy chest and silver dog tags. If I'd had my wits about me, there would have been serious piss taking going down.

As it was I said hello, introduced my sister, endured a kiss on the cheek fairly well, and then thanked God that 'Muffin was there to carry on a sensible conversation as I edged closer to my sister for security and shook like a leaf, heart pounding like a frantic bird trying to escape from my chest. While I was talking to him, I noticed his mates over his shoulder grinning away at me knowingly. Alfie looked me up and down, looked my sister up and down, looked me up and down again and said: "You do know you look nothing alike?" We laughed and I told him I was the milkman's. I can't remember what else was said, I recall him referring to 'Muffin as his 'Padawan learner', and me joking that 'Muffin could teach him a thing or two and my voice being a little too clipped. Then the mate who gave me a lecture about self-respect on the Christmas night out (whom I regret listening to) came over and I made our excuses and left.

Here is 'Muffin's take on the encounter:

Chica: I can't remember his face, just his fod (forehead)! And what was the outfit like! My sis will be seriously questioning my taste in men!

'Muffin: He wears that quite often

Chica: He looked a show in it, like a reject off Eldorado
'Muffin: Like your sister said... the way he stood said it all... HAHAHAHAHAHA HE DID!!!
Chica: And yet, my heart was still hammering in my chest and I was shaking like a fucking leaf!
'Muffin: Yeah but you didn't show it, you were uber cool. Especially when you said we'd better get going. It was like "Yeah... whatever.... I'm with my mates and I ain't got time to be dazzled by your fod!"

Love that guy.

For the record, I was wearing my Peaches Geldof dress, and looked so much better than he did, even if I do say so myself!

And yes, still completely besotted, obviously.

Before the Law

Had a couple of busy days re: Dedalus. We met up to see a movie on Thursday (Hot Fuzz) and had milkshakes and fries at the diner. It was nice. The movie was funny, but criminally underutilised Bill Bailey. Both of him.

Incidentally, on the way home from town, my bus was pulled over by a siren-flashing police vehicle, and a male officer got on the bus. He started walking slowly to the back; everyone just sort of fell out of conversation and stared, waiting for someone to make a run for it or some scuffle to occur. He looked at the guy sitting adjacent to me and said, "Can we have a chat with you, mate?" The guy said, "Yeah, okay," accompanied him ever so amenably off the bus, and was promptly arrested. I have to admit that there was a moment where I wondered if he was actually going to turn out to be a male stripper, and make someones birthday. But we all know how my mind works by now.

"Tickets, please."

Talking of movies, you remember the whole number 23 debacle? Well, Dedalus has since worked out that both his long term relationships lasted 23 months. And he split up with girl #1 on the 20th of March. And girl #2 on the 13th of October. Spooky shit!

So, yesterday - the second day, of the third month might I add - we got our glad rags on and hit the town for drinks, to celebrate Dedalus' new job, which he starts on Monday. The night started off well, I wore my new shoes (which hurt like I can't even think what might hurt as much, some medieval torture device perhaps, or improperly operated eyelash curlers), and he was on top form, in a comedic sense. However, by the time we left Modo's, the night had taken a different turn. (There was a weird moment on the way to Modo's actually where he slowed down and sort of leaned in, but I was like, "Keep walking, dude, keep walking.") We went to Mybug's bar - he's really cute in his uniform - for a quick one and then stepped outside to deliberate where to go next. It was raining really heavily so I took off my coat and used it to shelter my hair and he ducked under it too and started trying to kiss me.

I was not having it. Anyway, eventually, I untangled myself from the situation and we went to Tea Factory, at which point I realised that I'd lost one of my beloved hoop earrings and had been walking around with only one in like a scurvy buccaneer (my eye makeup was probably looking a bit Jack Sparrow by this point too.) I am so upset. Switched to drinking water and stumbled through a chat about how much we have in common and how we don't even have to try we both just get on so well. I suggested that was a good foundation for a friendship and didn't necessarily mean anything more should happen. He said he wanted more and he'd been really nervous about meeting me that night. I said he was feeling like this because of girl #2. He said no, it had always been me.

Bars were closing and this seemed like a good time to make a sharp exit in any case. Before we parted ways, he asked if he could see me again over the weekend and I said we'd sort something out, but I do think a spot of space is called for.

I'm shocked he is doing this when not only does he know about Boyf, he knows (a little) about Alfie. Or maybe that is why he's doing this... maybe he thinks I am looking for something else... Aw, crap.

It Takes Two

Last night I had a date with Dedalus. We hit the tapas bar for sangria, then took in Jim Carrey's new movie, The Number 23. As an aside, Dedalus was born on the fifteenth of August. 15 + 8 = 23. There are 23 letters in his name. You think I should be worried?

It was so strange meeting him. It was like a rerun of the Alfie date, without the nudity or the part where I allowed myself to sleep in a bed underneath a fake fur throw. (Dude, you'll be installing mirrored ceilings next, wanna stop being such a kissable cliche?) I got a lift into town and was dropped off in the same place. I walked the same walk. And I waited in the same spot where Alfie stood waiting for me. Then I drank two sangrias and felt tipsy: nothing new there. (Staff in that bar must be like, heyyy, there's that whore again!)

Similarities end there. Dedalus and I actually converse and everything, without me doing all the work, it's totally refreshing. I wore my blue dress and the Faith boots. He looked pretty cute.

We'd got to talking about tricky subjects again the night before on MSN, but luckily no mention was made while we were out. He kept saying stuff like that he wished I was his girlfriend and he wants me to know he never stopped liking me and did I ever like him back then? I was firm but fair, and asked him if he was sure it was a good idea to see each other if that was how he felt. But he reckoned he was fine with it and he knew nothing was going to happen, it just mattered to him how I felt about things in the past. I think we should maybe cut out the 2 am chats though.

The movie itself was interesting but a little convoluted towards the end. It introduced certain characters too late for you to care and they drive towards wrapping up the plot a little too overtly, if that makes sense. It's like the ending of a Scooby Doo episode where they explain everything and pull off the scary mask to reveal it's actually been the janitor all along. Worth seeing though, if only to freak Dedalus "23" out.

Awkward moment of the night: "What was the name of the bar we always went to? Studio 50-something? Maybe it works out to three times 23... oh no, that's..." - Dedalus

Amy Rocks the House

OMG, Amy Winehouse was AMAZING! I went to see her at the Liverpool Academy last night. The beehive was bigger than I've ever seen it, which was good because it meant more of her was visible to me, being a short arse (or three and a half apples tall, according to 'Muffin's measurements. Have to admit he has a good eye, guessing my vital stats in one, so I'll defer to his superior knowledge.) I had the usual problem of viewing the gig between the bobbing heads and various haircuts of those in front of me, and spending half the night on tippy toe. But it was plain to see from even my vantage point that Amy is getting Olsen Twin skinny. She has the tiniest little waist ever, and her arms are starting to look a bit Nicole Richie. Size Zero can not support all that hair, Amy, s'all I'm saying.

Anyway, the whole set was brilliant. She has the coolest and most enthusiastic backing singers in the whole wide world. I want to go again right now; I'd go just to see them. Her voice was amazing. She incorporated a bit of Lauryn Hill's Doo Wap (That Thing) into the show, and finished with The Zutons' Valerie. Girl knows her audience. I properly love her. Seriously: it's up there with Take That.

Her support act was rather good as well; Lila tried to get tickets just to see them. Check them out here: Mr Hudson and the Library.

After the gig, Boyf wanted to go to the bar where Mybug works ('cos if I've been somewhere he hasn't he sulks about it.) So off we toddled. I spotted him behind the bar but town was booming and he was really busy so I didn't say hi straight away. He looked kinda handsome.

"This is my church." - Faithless

We ordered some drinks and pinched a 'reserved' booth. A gang of girls joined us. Boyf is pretty trashed already at this point, since he has been drinking three times faster than me. He was trying to order some more beverages when Mybug walked past. I called out to him and he smiled, said "All right girl!" and dived on top of me. Girls looked bemused. He asked what we wanted and I introduced him to the Boyf. He brought us some drinks over - I was drinking £6 cosmopolitans! - and refused to take the cash for them. Then when Boyf went the loo he leaned over the bar for a little chat and a kiss. No tongues!

Had a giggle over Boyf asking the toilet attendant if he had any "Muscular."

Attendant: No... I've got some "Masculine."
Boyf: Oh... *realising that's what he'd meant* Nah, I'll leave it.

I realise that's a total location joke, but oh, how we laughed!

Taxi home, portion of chips, bed. Pure class, eh?!

Smile

Whoa, I actually feel happy and cheerful right now, WTF? Someone press a cold flannel to my unfurrowed brow, stat. I was merrily listening to Lily Allen and chatting to 'Muffin last night when I noticed something was different. It feels good.

Yesterday noon, I hopped on the bus and rode it into town. I was due to meet Dedalus for milkshakes at 3 o'clock, but I had some time to kill before then and, well... I was a little bit naughty. Naughty, but nice! Could these be the source of such contentment?

Oh yes, my friends. I'm back!

With a vengeance!

Dedalus actually went with me while I tried the heels, and we browsed the shelves of Waterstones together too. It was nice book shopping with a boy. He bought trashy thrillers and has read everything by Dan Brown, but still. I like the Black Eyed Peas, how can I possibly judge? I managed to resist buying any books, which was a small victory for my bank balance. Patrick Suskind's Perfume was even in the 3 for 2 offer! Dedalus says he's never seen me happier than when I was buying shoes. I should always be shoe shopping.

We talked about American politics, jobs, and um, Top Gear, over our shakes and then walked aimlessly around town chatting. Well, truth be known the aim was the find a movie to watch but neither cinema had anything much going for it so we bid farewell and took a rain check on the movie. While we were walking, he asked me about a comment I'd made about not wanting to lead him on because I knew how it felt and it wasn't nice. (Yeah, I'm this subtle in real life too!) I told him a little bit about Alfie - the bite size version. The simplicity of the bite size version was actually kind of good to hear - it all sounded much more manageable and, I don't know, everyday. I wrapped it up with: "Anyway, he's got a new girlfriend. It's over."

Truth be known, I had a mini-crisis on Friday and almost text Alfie. Nothing heavy, just to see how he is. But I told myself just to wait one more day and then I could text him. But yesterday, I didn't even want to. I was in a good mood and I didn't want to spoil it, and I think I kind of didn't care. Snaps for me! (Or Schnapps, I think I should get Schnapps.)

Anyway, so we had this awkward conversation about the past again which, yes he keeps bringing up but I think we've dealt with it now. I told him I thought he was cheeky to even be bringing stuff like that up because he was out of my life for so long and then he comes back on the scene dragging up ghosts from three years or so before. He agreed. We reached an understanding about the whole leading people on issue, and I told him that I wasn't agreeing to see him for anything like that, but that we were close once and it would be a shame to throw that away. He agreed :P But it was sincere I think, and even though it was a little bit awkward, I feel better about us.

Oh yeah, and then after me explaining some of the Alfie palaver, I asked him why he and his ex really split. He said: "She met someone else, basically."

Doh.

But look again at the boots! How can I feel anything but triumphant? I may even do my happy dance.

Hmmm, one step at a time.

Facked

Lest we forget: Mybug. It was Our Day Out yesterday. We were due to meet at 5:45 outside FACT, to see Pan's Labyrinth. By some fluke of science - or maybe physics in particular, I recall some sort of equation about speed and velocity, but nothing about the number 14 bus - I managed to get there early despite leaving at 5 o'clock, the journey usually taking at least 45 minutes, being in rush hour traffic, having to walk from one side of town to the other in high heeled boots that were certainly not made for walking, and not being entirely sure where FACT was (I was last there August 2004 with Dedalus, for The Bourne Supremacy, and I had to hide from my old pretentious tutor whom I spotted in the bar.)

He managed to turn up a little bit late. And a little bit drunk. He was paint-spattered, which was cute, because he'd been working with kids all day. I went to kiss him hello on the cheek and he grabbed me and kissed me on the mouth. He had a huge cold sore. Not so cute. Remember how much I fancied Alfie and the thing on my lip was basically gone at the Christmas party and I pushed him away when he tried to kiss me because of it? He still believes I rejected him to this day. There is no excuse for wantonly spreading herpes.

The film was really good and he brought sweeties. I'm not a sweeties during the movie type of girl but still, thoughtful. However, he kept grabbing me and trying to hold my hand, he'd put his arm around me or lean on my shoulder, at one point I swear he tried to cop a feel but for my deft manoeuvring, and then he bit my shoulder. I'm just sitting there thinking oh, fuck and waiting for him to read the body language. I don't think he would have done any of that except he'd been drinking. I was thinking it's probably difficult for someone with ADHD to sit through a movie like that?

Spoiler alert: you know the scene where Ofelia's mother is dying and the Captain says to save the baby before saving her? Mybug actually said to me, "If we were in that situation I'd save you." I said; "I'm glad you're not a fascist." He said, "I just love your boobs too much... that was borderline wasn't it?" I said, "No, you're so across the line!"

After the film, we went to the bar where he works, had mojitos, and he introduced me to some people. Then I said I'd have to get my bus, so he walked to the top of Bold Street with me. He asked me to dance in the street, grabbed me, spun me around, whipped me up into his arms, and twirled. Meanwhile, I am like as stiff as a board yelping, "I'll fall!" and "Trust issues!"

Asking him to the movies was such a good idea, non?

Lordy. So I guess I need to speak to him now or not see him again, because he was obviously treating it as a date despite the fact that every second word out of my mouth now is 'boyfriend', the first word being 'my'. There were some funny moments as he is quite witty but it was just far too uncomfortable, I really didn't want to say anything about it at the time but it was not a pleasant experience when he was getting all hands-on in the cinema. To compound matters, I was thinking about Alfie the whole time because 'Muffin bumped into him during a staff visit to his new workplace. I was dying to ask him a million questions despite the fact that I wouldn't get any answers that would satisfy me. He did say he's lost more hair though. It's such a shame for him :P

Tomorrow: Dedalus.

I need more girl friends.

Hurting All Over

Well, today I woke up to my first hangover of the year! It took me about ten minutes to get drunk on a bottle of Pinot Grigio last night. The Boyf and I finally hit the town, I wore my green silk dress, and there was dancing. I had a little bit of a freak out in the bar Alfie and I kicked off our date two months ago in, cos that was the last time I was there. But I figure the more I go there with other people, the more stuff I'll accumulate in the way of that memory, if you get what I mean. Luckily, I got away with it under the 'oh no Chica's drunk again' licence to ramble meaninglessly. Moving on, I swear, just with a few minor hiccups thrown in every now and then. It takes me for ever to get over loss. I hate losing touch with friends too, even if it's clear the friendship is sort of floundering. I will always give people another chance because if I don't a big annoying WHAT IF? follows me around. But sometimes I think it would be better if I could just draw a line and cut people off; I have friends that can do this, they've fallen out with other friends for one reason or another and they don't even consider forgiveness. Black and white living must be much simpler than this greyness.

Anyhoo. We blew £100, but we haven't been out for a long time so I guess that's okay, even though I'm spending a lot lately and he's meant to be watching the pennies. I ordered some music the other day, Ella Fitzgerald, Dinah Washington, and Billie Holiday Best Ofs. And we all know I'm going to buy those shoes. They would have looked great with my outfit last night. Plus I keep buying things for my new and improved bedroom. I feel a trip to Ikea coming on.

I had a blood test on Friday. Now, I don't know if you are familiar with my history with needles, but it ain't a happy one. Yay for me, I didn't pass out. I'm kind of antsy to know the results already though and it's going to take at least a week to ten days before I'll know anything. Fingers crossed, although I'm not sure what outcome to hope for. If they don't find anything, I don't know what to do next, and with my doctor, you have to know what to do next because they're not big on the diagnosing of stuff. I guess I'll cross that bridge when I come to it.

Still Crazy

I'm home! Arrived back in Liverpool at two this morning. I have to say I was quite surprised by how much I missed the place. I've always thought of myself as a bit of a country girl at heart but I really missed the city. Maybe it was because I knew I was missing out on all the January bargains? Maybe it was because I couldn't check my email? Or maybe this is all part of my recent metamorphosis. I really hope I don't end up like Gregor Samsa.

So, I shall reiterate my Happy New Year of the last post, since it is now actually 2007. What what what? And in this year, I shall be 25. Oh My God. Time for some changes methinks.

Back to work tomorrow. I am dreading it, particularly the sound of my alarm clock in the morning, but in a weird way it feels good to be back and work is part of that. Now that I'm part time, it doesn't totally rule my life anymore so I can't grumble too much. And it's kind of nice that it feels good to be back home; I was looking forward to getting back to my life and sorting things out. It was only a week, but I missed my friends and my city and to a certain extent my routines. Who would have thought it eh?

As for the Alfie stuff, it is really getting to be too much for me. So I'm going to try and spend more time doing things with people who actually care about me. The real dilemma in all of this is what I should do about my future with Boyf. He wants me to move in with him this year and really I need to be clear in my mind that that's what I want before I commit. The trouble is that I really don't think I am ready. I do want to move house, but if I were to move somewhere else with MJ I think Boyf would be pissed off. And to be honest, I'm still holding out for Alfie, even though I know I shouldn't. I am trying to move on but it's tough.

So - yeah. That's my stuff. I've already caught up with some of the action I missed in the regular reads, and plan to catch up on the rest during work time tomorrow!

Nightmare Before Christmas

As you are probably aware, since it's all I've rambled on about for the last several hundred posts, yesterday was the Christmas party. There are some pics up on Flickr, but more to follow on Monday after I've swapped with 'Muffin. Wondy - the cravat trend continues!

Well. Well, well. Where do I fucking start?

I'll skip all the introduction. Most people have probably experienced the office party and know all about how crap they generally are until people are hammered and start copping off in broom cupboards etc. Imagine the first two hours of your own office party and then situate it in a trendy club. The usual suspects leave early. The quiet girl gets drunk really quickly and dances ludicrously but enthusiastically. There is small talk, and that one person who can't resist talking about work. We all compliment each others' outfits. Blah de blah. Let's get to Alfie.

I noticed him as soon as I walked in, but me and 'Muffin stayed at the other end of the bar. He came over, kissed me on the cheek and was instantly flirtatious. I ignored it and talked to Lila. I mingled for a bit with other people but Alfie kept coming over. He told me I looked nice and stroked my hair in front of Jojo. I teased him about the cravat and he said it was an extra layer for me to take off later. He told me I looked very elegant. I pointed out the shoes. He said, "I noticed. I'll let you leave them on." When I was dancing with the girls he came over and was trying to feel my arse. I moved and danced next to Ozzie.

Later in the night we commandeered one of the booths. Alfie was flitting here there and everywhere, since as he told me, he knows everyone. He brought his friend Alex over and reintroduced us. He started asking me to go back to his place. I told him it wasn't going to happen. He was like, "You're blowing me out? You only get one chance. I don't respond well to that." Then he started telling me what he wanted to do to me. I told him a man can dream. He said, "Oh no, you can't play hard to get with me." This was all in stolen snatches of conversation because at this point I was still trying to be discreet.

I danced with the girls a lot and Alfie joined us a few times. At one point we were kind of tucked into a corner and he told me that he really enjoyed last week, but felt shit afterwards because of the Boyf. I agreed and said I could do something about that though. He asked me what I could do, but I realised what a stupid thing that was to say and just laughed. He had his arm around me and his hand on my arse as we were talking to people. Lila came over and asked me what was going on with us. She's witnessed stuff before so I just laid my cards out on the table and told her that yeah I liked him but he just wanted a shag and that wasn't going to happen. She said she thought he liked me and wasn't only after a shag. I said, well I have a boyfriend anyway. Alfie came over and asked me to follow him. I leaned over and told 'Muffin I was disappearing for a bit and followed Alfie to the VIP area. We had a dance and he sang really badly in my ear. He was on at me to go back to his again, saying we could leave now and he'd call me a taxi at four. I just shook my head at him and kept dancing, then his mate called him to get him in so I was saved by the bell.

When I rejoined the table, loads of people had left. I sat with Lila until she lit up a cigar and set off the fire alarm. Surprisingly, nothing happened and eventually it went off. Alfie came back and wanted to know why I wouldn't leave with him. I told him I wasn't that sort of girl and that I was worth the wait, as he should know. He said how was he meant to know and he'd waited long enough and then he walked off! I must've looked like I'd been smacked in the face because 'Muffin came over and asked me if I was okay. I went and sat back with Lila and considered ringing Boyf and going home there and then. 'Muffin asked me not to go and I got up and danced with him and his mate for a bit. Then I felt a hand on my arm and Alfie pulled me away from them and into a queue. He smuggled me and his mate downstairs into another VIP (VVIP I guess?) room and his mate bought me a drink. I tried to chat to his mate for a bit. He seems a lot more down to earth than Alfie and we struck up a bit of banter.

Alfie dragged us off to a seated area and then played out all his cool shit, generally posing and being annoying. He bugged me about going back to his some more and I told him I couldn't get away with it again. He said this was the perfect and last opportunity. I asked him what he meant by that. He was like, it's the Christmas party, when else have you got such a good excuse? (Yeah, I can see he feels really bad about Boyf!) I said, what do you want? He gave me the sexy look. "One night stand?" I asked. He said, "No. And besides, this is the second night." I asked him what he wants again and he said, "You know I don't want a big long term relationship. I want some fun." Then Lila landed in the seat next to me and I gave her a hug and said, "Save me!"

Alfie started trying to kiss me and I pulled away. "What's that about?" he asked. (For those wondering, the lip is back to normal but I still wasn't going to kiss the guy on the mouth so soon.) I leaned in and kissed his neck and slipped my hand inside his shirt. Then I pulled away and when I turned around Lila and Alex were watching us. I noticed the sash on my dress was undone and asked Lila to tie it. As she was doing it, Alfie slipped his hand right down the back of my dress and pushed his fingers under the top of my underwear. I wriggled away and Lila was laughing.

It quickly became apparent that Lila was utterly wrecked. I took her to the toilets and she was in there for about twenty minutes. When we resurfaced, Alfie was at the bar and I went and danced with him for a bit. He slipped his hand down the back of my dress a little again and said, "Aren't you wearing a bra?" Then started saying how I would be naked later except for the shoes. When I disagreed he tried to negotiate for the shoes and the underwear. He was asking if I'd chosen my underwear especially for him and I said no and just shook my head at him. I could tell he was getting annoyed because I wasn't giving him the reaction he wanted, but he was making me feel really cheap and there was no way I was going to go home with him no matter how much I like him.

I was starting to worry about Lila and Alex was moving in on her. I told her it was time to go home but she wasn't having any of it. Eventually I got her to sit down and she started texting her mates so I thought she was okay. I noticed Alfie talking to some girl as I was trying to sort Lila out. When I'd got her settled, he'd stopped so I went over and stood with him and his mate. His mate started chatting about Alfie, bigging him up, and Alfie was like, "I can hear every word!" Then the girl started talking to him again so I danced with the mate for a bit. His mate was like "Let's groove!" I liked him, he was really funny. I leaned over to check on Lila and the mate said to me, "It's okay he hasn't gone far, I'm not going to try anything." I told him I was worried about Lila and he told me not to. I noticed the girl had hold of Alfie's phone. His mate said to me, "Go and get a grip of your fella and tell him to stop being such a dickhead," I told him he wasn't my fella. He said, "I know but he came here with you tonight and now he's flirting with some girl right in front of your face. The disrespect! How disrespectful is that?" I was like, shit. Alfie is always talking to girls when we are out because he has a lot of female friends and I didn't want to presume anything about him talking to this girl. But when his mate said that to me I felt like a complete fool. "Where are you from?" he asked me, and I told him. "Bloody hell," he said, "You're from there and you're letting him get away with that?! How have you survived?" I thought about telling him I had a boyfriend so I could hardly talk, but instead I said: "You're right, I'm leaving." His mate panicked and told me not to leave because of what he'd said. I told him I had to take Lila home.

I went to check on Lila and she was semi-conscious and the contents of her handbag were on the floor. I picked up all her stuff, pulled the hair back from her face and told her I was taking her home. I rang the Boyf and asked him to come get us. It was three thirty and the club was closing. Alfie was still talking to the girl, calling her "Hell's Bells" (she was called Helen which is his best mates name and he calls her that), who looked like one of the blonde Bratz can I just add, and I was trying to fasten Lila's shoes. (Okay yes I am fucking jealous, I readily admit it, but I think I had good reason!) I think they must have asked Alfie to go somewhere and he said no, he was with some girls from work and he gestured towards us. One of the girls really bitchily said, "Oh yeah, they look like nice girls," in this sarcastic, catty tone. I glanced up and gave them a dirty look. At this point I was losing my rag. Alfie had been an arse all night, I was left looking after Lila while he moved on to some tramp, and even his mates were practically telling me to get some self respect. The girls laughed and walked off and the bar staff were ushering everyone out. I stood up and shouted, "Your mate is a fucking bitch!" (I kind of slipped on the whole channeling Elizabeth Bennet at this point, but how great would it be if she'd said that in P&P?!) Alfie looked really shocked. I got Lila standing up but she fell back down and pulled me with her. Alfie said he'd get her and propped her up. He asked me what was up and I think I may have told him to fuck off, either that or just by my face he could tell I was pissed off because I heard him go: "Whoa!"

We got outside and we were both holding Lila up. He was asking me if I was okay and I told him I was fine. He asked me why I was being weird and I told him I wasn't being weird. He said I was obviously being weird with him and I said, "Why, cos I'm not kissing your arse?" He was like, fucking hell. He asked Alex to take Lila home and I put my foot down and said no. He said he'd go with them (where that left me I don't know) but I told him it was okay, to just wait with us for ten minutes and Boyf would take us home. He sneered, "Boyf to the rescue is it?"

The wait outside is a little bit jumbled because I was angry and Lila was being difficult. I remember telling Alex to leave her alone. I said I was freezing and pressed myself into Lila, who I was still holding upright. Alfie pressed himself against me and kissed my shoulder. Alex wanted to leave and was asking Alfie why they were staying. I told him he was being a gentleman. Alfie said, "Chica's boyfriend is coming to get them." I can't remember how it came about but Alfie was saying something about Boyf and I said, "Why, are you jealous?" and he thought about it for a second, looked right at me and said, "Yes." I told him he didn't have to be. He said, but you're going home with him and not me. Somehow, I told him I didn't want to end up with nothing. He said he couldn't promise me anything and that he'd said from the beginning that he didn't want a long term girlfriend. I said I knew that, but I was worth more than just a shag. (This is while we are holding Lila up between us by the arms!) He said he knew that and he'd said that from the beginning to me too. I told him he had never said anything like that to me. He made a noise like he was frustrated. His mate started causing trouble so he went to sort that out. Boyf arrived and pulled up down the street. I carefully led Lila to the car, grabbing Alfie's arm on the way and telling him we were leaving. Lila tried to get in the car from the wrong side. I managed to lever her in and thanked the Boyf for coming to get us.

During the drive to Lila's, I held her hand and tried to keep her talking. She seemed a little better and was thanking Boyf for taking her home. I told her he did this every night of the week. I was so glad to see him. Alfie text me to say that he had Lila's mobile phone. When we got to her house, I took her inside. When I was pulling her out of the car, she bit into my arm. Then I had to stand with her outside her house while she repeatedly apologised and hugged me. She couldn't put the key in the door. I got her a glass of water and put it next to her bed. I left her a note telling her that Alfie had her phone. I had to stop her wandering out into the hall.

When I got home, I had messages from Alfie. I apologised if I was weird. He said I was weird towards the end of the night but nevermind. I text back: I see your non-committal message and raise you an Alfie shrug, because he had been shrugging at me every time I rejected him and when I told him it was his loss. In the end I couldn't be bothered replying to his messages and just went to sleep.

Another huge post, sorry! I should post these in installments...

Anyway, this morning he text me asking how I was and everything. I rehashed things with 'Muffin whose conclusion is as follows:

Chica: if Alfie asks what was wrong again I'm gonna tell him he made me feel cheap
'Muffin: if he makes u feel like that why do you want him
'Muffin: he should be treating you like a princess
'Muffin: I'd give my bloody book collection away for a girl like u!

What happens next is anyones guess. But I'm thinking it should involve kicking and kerbs.

Love Fool

We met for drinks. He was waiting for me outside the bar when I arrived. I was five minutes late. Or eight minutes, according to him. He tapped his watch as I approached him. I laughed and kissed him on the cheek. We went inside and I bought him a sangria for making him wait, but then he wouldn't let me pay for anything else. (Points!) I went totally prepared to go Dutch though.

So. We chatted for a bit and it was going pretty well. He told me about his new job, and the lack of hotties. His best friend called him, and he talked about me. He told him that he'd have to go because he was with a hot lady who was checking him out and he was being rude. He asked me where I was 'officially'. I told him my (as it turned out, rubbish) cover story. I asked him where he was officially. He said, here. I asked who with. He said, "you... or, 'a girl I used to work with'."

We moved on to a bar of his choice - his usual haunt. There was a queue outside. He walked to the front and we got straight in. A girl started to complain in the queue. The bouncer told her we were members. He knows everyone there. It sounds so school-girlish, but I felt kind of good that he took me there as his date so openly. We had a drink at the bar and then he got us a table and a bottle of wine, to usher in a new depth of drunkenness. And, correspondingly, flirtation. And a lot of giggling.

At midnight we went downstairs into the club. We had a few dances and a few more drinks. Then my sister text me asking if I still wanted a lift. I text her back and told her I'd get a taxi since it was getting late. Alfie took the phone from me and sent her a message saying he'd look after me and put me in a taxi. My sister sent him some funny messages telling him to take care of me cos I'm extra special and to watch his hands. And telling him that he was a PLAYER. She referred to him as bro.

Then Alfie asked me back to his place. I said no. He said nothing would happen, we'd just have kisses. I said no. He said he'd call me a taxi from his house. I said I needed to go home. We left the club and started walking towards his place, trying to flag down a taxi. We walked together arm in arm, laughing and talking. It was easy. I paid for a taxi to his and he invited me inside. We stumbled in (I'm really drunk at this stage) through the door and up the stairs to his bedroom in the attic. He put on the Paolo Nutini CD and unbuttoned his shirt.

We had some kisses and rolled around on his bed for a bit. We whispered things to each other. I teased him. He did a lot of hair pulling, which was weird. Then I said I'd better go. He pointed out that it was half past five in the morning. He asked me to stay until seven and he'd drive me home. He pulled me close to him and put his arms around me. We fell asleep.

I woke up with a start at about eight fifteen. My first thought? Oh, shit. I hid my head under the covers for a second. Then I jumped up, checked my phone. 25 missed calls. 5 text messages. 3 voicemails.

Alfie took me home.

Should not have gone back to his place.

Cold Comfort

Okay. This week has been pretty hectic. I didn't really explain the context of the last post very well, but I was a bit hyper when I wrote it. And anyway, I think you get the gist.

I've been texting him quite steadily since that. He's been requesting naughty pics again and, AND, he came into work on Thursday looking for me, but I'd booked a half day to have lunch with Dedalus. He text me: Just been into work thinking I was getting a rendezvous and you haven't the decency to be there. Tut tut. He asked 'Muffin where I was.

Today, he came in again to hand in some work, but I was just about to finish. I hung around for a bit talking to him but then he went to get something to eat fom the canteen. I thought it looked a bit dodgy for me to be hanging about and started to leave. He caught me on my way out as he was coming back from the canteen and was like, "I was just gonna text you, I thought we could rendezvous?" And I was like, "Oh what a shame, I'm just leaving, see you later." Ha! Then kicking myself up and down the high street.

Actually, I've just clicked. I said, 'rendezvous when?' and he said 'now', I pointed to his plate of food and said 'now???' and he hurriedly started eating. Then I laughed and said see you later again. Doh. I would have felt an idiot waiting though.

When he first came in, I heard his voice, never even had to see him, stood up and walked straight into the staff room, grabbed my bag and went and put make up on in the toilets! If my boss had walked in and caught me applying mascara when I was meant to be processing holds I think she may have had something to say.

Anyhoo. We'd been sending each other some pretty naughty messages and so he wanted to know what I'd been thinking about that night. So I told him I'd tell him after I'd had a cocktail with my sister, who I was meeting at 3 o'clock. Cocktail hour! I went shopping first and it was really rubbish, couldn't spot a single date outfit, and I'm prepared to pay out. I can't get the dress I'm in love with from Monsoon because they don't have my size and I ended up just buying bits from The Body Shop and underwear for the Boyf.

Then I met my sister and her friends and after about two seconds it became clear that my sister had told her best friend all about Alfie and therefore she wanted to know some details. I spared her the amount of detail I offer up to you guys and just basically told her I liked him but things were complicated. They wanted to know what he looked like so I text Alfie and demanded a photo! Hey, I had a glass of Southern Comfort in my hand and was feeling brave. I also told him that my sister wanted to meet him and that I like the way he smells :P

Anyway, after a spate of texting and gossiping with the girls, I caught the bus home. I could've stayed out but my sister and her friends were really indecisive about where to go and my boots were absolutely killing me. I must have marched the length and breadth of Liverpool City Centre about three times today. Ouch. It just wasn't worth it for some body butter and undies, not to mention missing out on some Alfie loving!

I have crappy timing.

Fireworks

Oh. My. Goodness. Too much to type, too much to tell! Can't function! It's after 4 am and I just got home from my night out with 'Muffin, Heidi, and Himself. I'm too hyper to sleep. I've been a very bad girl.

Photographs are coming soon, and I look DREADFUL in them. But I had a really fun night. We bumped into Lila in the club and had a bit of a dance with her too. I was really good and watched my booze intake because I didn't want a repeat performance. But in the end I was really tired and even drinking water was making me feel sick, so I thought: hometime. I left 'Muffin and Himself to it.

But omigod. Heidi told Himself I wanted to grope him, then he dragged me off for a dance and was like: "grope away." I nearly died. I couldn't even look him in the face while I was dancing with him - total bunny in the headlights syndrome. Then he went to the bar with 'Muffin and asked him if I liked him, and 'Muffin said yes. We changed location and I danced with Heidi for a bit, and then I started worrying that I'd made a huge fool of myself because Himself kept giving me these looks and dancing for me while I was just squirming. He sat next to me and was giving me the eye and I thought well I might aswell give up the ghost and said: "Oh, you're such a tease!" That was the icebreaker.

What an icebreaker it turned out to be. Major flirting for the rest of the night. He tried to kiss me on the stairs on the way out. He started to tell me what he wanted to do to me. He pulled me close to him and stroked my hair. I took hold of his hand as he walked me out, and he asked me why I was shaking! Well, duh! Then, texts, but I won't print them here because I'm sure you're fed up of the text message relay, I greatly apologise, but if I was sitting here with a girl friend, I'd force her to read them too. Since I'm continuing to bore you senseless with wafflings about Himself, I'll cut out the text reports as much as I can.

But oh fuck. I'm still a bit stunned. I thought he was totally uninterested and when I talked to him about it he was like, "Haven't you noticed me checking you out at work? You've got the best body I've ever seen."

Monday's going to be fun. For fun read scary.

Wow. Just: wow.

Saturday Night Excess

Oh My Lord. I was horrendously drunk last night. I was so drunk I couldn't get my own boots off and collapsed into bed wearing one of them. Boyf dragged me up and into the bathroom, where I lay and cried with my head in a bucket, throwing up. MJ undressed me and put me into my pyjamas. I tried to protest, "I'm not wearing a bra," but he said he wouldn't look and sent the Boyf out of the room which I thought was rather matronly of him :P The pyjamas he put on me were a pair I'd put to one side to throw out because they had big tears in the back like I'd been swiped at by a breed of large feline. He clipped my hair back in a random fashion and, when I was ready, led me slowly back to bed, walking in front of me, my arms around his waist.

I was wasted, completely trashed. And I wouldn't mind but I hadn't even drank that much. I must have had about six drinks, although I did mix them, and I have never ever been so drunk before in my life. I know it's regarded as rather a rite of passage, but I've never actually been sick before after a night out. And if I start feeling drunk, I usually slow right down or switch to water because I HATE feeling drunk and looking that unattractive.

I didn't realise I was that drunk until the last half-drink I managed, a Reef in the Fab Cafe. I thought I was merely happy. I had been laughing like a lunatic all night and dancing like one too. The source of such merriment? Himself. I sent him a text message. Before a drink had passed my lips. I'm still rather delirious about it.

At around ten to eight my Uncle Yank sent me a joke that reminded me of Himself, and so I spontaneously forwarded it on to him and signed it with my name and a kiss!

Then I did a funny little dance and got nervous about whether I should've sent it or not.

In the car on the way into town, I got a reply: Chica (my surname)? X

Chica: (surname's) the one. Mate just sent me that joke and I thought of you! Have a good night! x

It could have ended there right? I'm friendly but I give him an out at the end with the general tone of finality.

Himself: Thanks. That theme has been my topic of the week. Gonna go Mosquito again tonight. No surprise there. Are you staying in with the hubby tonight?

C: Nope I am off out to town. Might meet up with Heidi later and go cruising for boys. Where would the Mozzie be without you! Have fun! x

Again with the finality, right? He could just leave it there perfectly politely. But...

H: Excellent. (surname) is on the town. Who you out with? You should come to Moz so you can report back to 'Muffin.

(!)

C: I'm not sure. Maybe next week. I'm not in my Mozzie best! Rocking the skinny jeans tonight. Wouldn't want to scare the poor lamb, think it's best if he goes in blind! x

H: Cool. Well it would be nice to see you around my way tonight. Skinny jeans will be ok. Just get in touch if you fancy it. If not, hope you have a lovely night x

First of all, how lovely is he? I'm practically orgasmic at this point. Second of all, he uses predictive text. And thirdly, oh fuck. I'm on a night out with the Boyf and I've been invited to a club by the guy whose pants I've been trying to get into for the last two or three weeks. What would Jesus do?

I proceeded to get swiftly drunk and text everyone I knew about whether to go to Mosquito or not. In the end, Boyf suggested going because my texting was rather indiscreet (drunk, remember?) so I had to tell him that we had been invited to Mosquito by a workmate. But the first time we passed it there was a queue outside. Boyf does not do queues to get in places, ever. I was secretly glad but sick with excitement at the same time. After a drink in Mathew Street, we decided to head back to the other side of town, and when we passed Mosquito, Boyf tried his luck at the door. Apparently, you needed tickets. Boyf dropped Himself's name and the woman on the door looked kind of impressed and said: "He's already gone down." Boyf wanted me to ring him to get us in (he could've, he's well connected) but I thought that would be WAY too weird and suggested meeting Heidi at the Fab Cafe instead.

I failed to meet Heidi because she went home early but we continued to text each other until I was too drunk to read them. I'm still drunk now. I reserve the right to deny all this in a few hours time. Enjoy it while you can!

In a word: Eek!

Gone in 60 Seconds

So, Friday was great. I wore the red shoes. We didn't go to Newz because I couldn't walk in them, so hobbled in the general direction of Italian food and Spanish booze instead. Was made to run across the road in said stilettos = hilarity for all passers by. Had my coat pinched and later returned in the tapas bar. Ate yummy food, met nice Czech lady, got squiffy. All in all, a good night. And I got ready in six minutes - surely a record? (I was terrified of getting locked in at work by security!)

Spent the rest of the weekend starting preparations for the next French trip, which starts on Thursday. I can't frickin' wait. Haven't actually begun to pack yet though. Hmmm...

Ooh, also, gave in to retail therapy urges in phenomenal style and spent about £150 at Topshop and Miss Selfridge online. So now, after my holiday, I will come back to pretty things as well as old Troutface. Hurrah! New clothes take the pain away. The Haul includes:

- A smart black 'bib front' tee

- Pair of smart black hipster trousers

- One ribbed oversize beanie hat in navy

- White poplin puff sleeve shirt

- A cream scoop neck tee with a funky blackbird pattern

- Headscarf with a geometric design

- A tomato coloured 'trapeze' dress with pocket detailing

- Long white skinny vest

- One rhinestone buckled Alice band!

Pretty good work for a Bank Holiday weekend huh? I heart armchair shopping! After my shopping blitz, Boyf and I hunkered down in our gorgeous bed, indulged in a rather nice Cabernet Sauvignon and watched King Kong on DVD. Bliss!

2 sleeps and I'm outta here.

Newz from Nowhere

So, the plan for tonight is to head over to the Newz Bar for a quick drink while deciding where to eat. We will probably pop into the tapas bar at some point for some sangria, but apart from that we've made no real plans and are just gonna see where the night takes us. I was looking forward to starting it all off with a drink in Newz, because I've heard good things from friends and it's not too far from where I work so I could make Friday cocktails a more regular thing, a bit like Champagne Thursdays.

Then I visited their website. Try not to hurl while you read this:

"Are you a "CAT" - Cool - Amazing & Trendy?
If you are, you belong @ Newz Bar
(AKA)
"The Bar For The Beautiful People"

Dressed to impress, the ladies are kitted out in the latest fashions and could be mistaken for one of the models from a Catwalk Show. The men are just as good, donning well cut suits with shirts and ties to match or the latest trendy gear that has just arrived in men's Boutiques.
So, if you want a fabulous night out in a bar that is dressed as well as you are, Newz Bar is the place for you. The bar staff and door attendands are even dressed to impress so that you feel you are in the right place."

Cool? Amazing? Trendy? Brain of your own? Well, this room is cold enough to give me goosebumps, I'm pretty amazed that I didn't kill anyone (yet) this week and I'm wearing a shirt I bought over a year ago right now, so make of that what you will. If I was a cat, I'd probably be a wizened old alley cat rather than a pampered moggy in a diamond studded collar and matching Lexus. I'm just hoping that, like with most hype, this is all a load of trash. I really don't want to spend time in a place where I feel like I'm a huge disappointment to the doormen.

Ugh. I hope it's not as pretentious as it sounds.

A Kings Ransom

The Olive Press was last night the scene of unrestrained debauchery. It pains and humiliates me to confess something that will provoke disgust and outrage in you, gentle reader. Last night, after entering the restaurant and tottering down a small flight of stairs in my very high heels, we were told we had to wait for our table so headed to the bar, where we ordered a pint and a double Baileys... the pint cost £3.50, which is a rip off but we are prepared to deal with that as it's the norm to be ripped off in most places we go. But the Baileys... the Baileys... oh the Horror! NINE POUNDS!!! Have you seen how little liquid you get in a double Baileys? The glass is most definitely half empty! Moreover, for NINE POUNDS (FOR A DRINK!!) you can almost buy a bottle of the stuff. Let me just put this into sharper context. Before 7 o'clock in said restaurant, they do a £10 meal deal, which offers 2 courses and a glass of wine! There was a group of women next to us when we handed over our hard earned cash with faces agog, who sympathetically advised: "you'd better enjoy that drink!" "Fucking hell," Boyf complained, "Let me have a taste!" The rest of the night is a complete blank. I have never quite recovered!

That'll be £95 and your first born son please.

Oh okay, it's not a complete blank, but seriously that totally put me off the place and I didn't enjoy the rest of the experience at all, even though it was quite decent. I didn't like the food I ordered, but thems the brakes sometimes, the starter was scrummy, and it was nice to go someplace new. I won't be going back though, that's for sure!

We had a 9:30 table so we hit the Tapas bar before we traipsed over to The Money... I mean Olive Press, and had some yummy sangria. The bar was packed and we had a good laugh trying to fit as many Elvis related words and sayings into our conversations - childish but effective, just add alcohol. Sample Quote: "Can you hold this for me please? ...Thank you very much." We forgot to take a watch so kept having to ask people the time or try and spy a look at their wrists. We were next to a group of Cockneys, and when one of them laughed it honestly sounded like he was sobbing his heart out. They told us they'd been waiting for a table since Tuesday. Better to wait than pay NINE POUNDS FOR ONE DRINK I say! Sorry, I'll get over it when I get a job with a bigger salary, company car, and perhaps twelve underlings. Can I just say we used to think the Tapas bar was expensive and the round there costs half the price than the one at Satan's Rip-Off Dump? Like the Murphy's, I'm not bitter. I think I'm traumatised. I'll probably have to drink solely in Wetherspoons (cheapy cheapy cheap cheap - and, according to the website, award winning loos!) for a bit until I recover.

Don't step on my blue suede shoes, bitch!

Anyway, after leaving The Restaurant That Shall Not Be Named, we hovered in the doorway for a bit deciding whether to get soaked in the rain or try and hail a cab. A passing cab, it's orange light answering our dilemma, wrapped up all such discussion and we got in. Then regretted it. Taxi man just rabbited on at us for the entire journey, and after hearing with satisfactory revulsion our tale of the £9 Baileys, suggested that I frequent an area well known for prostitution to earn the money back. When Boyf protested, taxi man argued that I didn't even know what that meant. I must look innocent or something. All in all, a bit of a mixed bag as nights out go.

Oh, and also, when we passed Havana, everyone was standing around the TV watching X Factor :P So I just about know that Journey South made it through as they were on when we passed. Because of my week in France I missed out on a bit of X Factor and haven't really kept up with it as I should have, but I'd like to say how gutted I am that little Trevor and James didn't get through. Trevor made me cry when he said that he thought he'd just be stacking shelves for the rest of his life. The poor mite is only 16. On a more worrying note, I think Chico is actually starting to grow on me (like a fungus?) At least he doesn't come on singing boring ballads every week. I just wish he'd stop telling everyone it was "Chico time!"

You know, in the olden days, they used to Press people to death with big stones for committing certain crimes... don't think there were any Olives involved though. And very little Baileys.

Living for the Weekend

Wooo hoooo! It's Saturday. I cannot explain my joy at reaching Saturday - it's only eclipsed by my dread at reaching Sunday night! Seriously, my job isn't that bad, so why do I hate it so much? Weird. Anyway, I've been applying for others. I only found out about two of them at the last minute so my supporting statements aren't that good - in one of them I just copied and pasted a load of stuff from past supporting statements and ended up with a 4 page essay about why they should hire me :P I think it may be information overload, but it was all I had time to do and you've gotta be in it to win it! Got a couple of applications through the post today, one is for a research job I really want and another is for a ridiculously well paid job a step up from what I'm doing, but I don't reckon I'll get it as I've only been in this job 3 months.

So, I'm off out on the town tonight with my Boo. We have loosely planned a scrumptious meal somewhere and a few Baileys, maybe a bit of dancing. I think we might try The Olive Press. I did want to try Il Forno (right) but Elspeth from work is going there so I'll avoid it for now! It looks gorgeous though. There are so many new restaurants springing up around the place at the mo'; another one I want to try is the Alma De Cuba (left) - it's in the former St. Peter's church and we were thinking of going there for the works Christmas night out until we settled on The Living Room. It looks very grand! Mmmm, all this talk is making me hungry!

Now for the age old question: What to wear? I'm off to pamper myself with a sojourn in the bath and mull it over.

Great Auntie Chica

Weezer's weird guy asked me out this morning. He seemed embarrassed when I told him I had a boyfriend so I kind of felt bad for him. I wonder how many libraries he visits in a day, asking all the staff out. I'd been trying to avoid him but he foxed me by getting a haircut and wearing a different coat! We reckon Potter may be next since the weird dude seems to like blondes.

By the by, Potter continues to impress. We had a conversation with Lady P. about Big Fish (the movie, in case you thought I'd turned into a crazy angler.)

Me: "I cried my eyes out at the end!"
Potter: "Me too!"

I love boys who cry, they're so cute. I have an opening for a movie buddy too...

But the biggest news is that I am now a great aunt! Yes, my gorgeous little niece has a gorgeous little boy of her own. How nuts that my sister is a grandma. He was born on Sunday 28th, a little after 9 am and weighed 5 pounds 11 ounces. He's teeny tiny and looks like his dad from what I can tell on the photographs. I haven't been to see him yet. What makes a good present for a new mum?

The weekend brought the Mathew Street Festival and lots of fun was had by all. A little too much fun in some cases. On Sunday we headed into town and hit a few bars, listened to some live music. They had a fair in the street and we marveled at how the people on this scary looking ride were barely missing the buildings on either side of the road as they swung from side to side. We should've took photos. We had a few drinks in Mathew Street and listened to some Beatles tunes in Lennon's Bar, then chilled out in Concert Square, sipping Baileys and cowering in the shade. Food was necessary at this point so we had burgers and fries and Eddie's. We thought we'd go back through to Mathew Street then and have a dance, but the atmosphere had changed, everyone was way too drunk, causing argy bargy and throwing up, so we walked along by the Three Graces to the Albert Dock and had a last drink at The Pump House before catching a taxi home. Monday we lazed around for most of the afternoon (and watched The Great Escape) and then went back into town to check out some of the free concerts. We lingered at the Tapas bar longer than we should have (and missed most of all the concerts as a consequence!) but it was really nice eating tapas and drinking sangria on a Monday when we should have been in work!

I got the clothes I ordered in last week's Sale today. They arrived in a big box and I opened it when I got home from work. It was like a mini-Christmas!

In the words of the Fresh Prince: Smell ya later!

Food Glorious Food

Do you ever feel like you're living for the weekends? My round ups are getting to be a ritual. Here goes:

I had the coolest dreams Saturday night. In one, I travelled back in time and was working as a slavery abolitionist in the US, but I knew everything that was going to happen in the future. In another, I was furtively snogging Dermot O'Leary in like the corner of a marquee or something (we had white fabric draped over us)! There was a less cool one where it was a couple of days before Christmas and I hadn't done any shopping, I was running out to try and catch a shop to buy my littlest niece a present. Do these weird and wacky dreams have anything to do with the fact that I watched Labyrinth before sleeping I wonder?

Friday night I enjoyed the most splendiforously decadent meal with Boyf. We normally never bother with starters or dessert because a main is usually enough for me, but we thought what the hey, lets treat ourselves. For starters, I had this really yummy asparagus dish with crushed new potatoes and sour cream. Boyf had mushroom and leek soup. Then for the main course I had honeyed duck breast with noodles and stir fried vegetables. My verdict? OTT on the honey. Boyf had fillet steak, it was very well cooked. For pudding, I opted for the Banoffee Pie with cream, which was like heaven on a plate and I was gutted that I couldn't finish it all. Boyf had ice cream, the bore. We washed it down with a half bottle of red, which was really nice too but I can't remember what it was beyond a Cabernet Sauvignon. I think it may have been Chilean? Yeah, I've really just took the shine off the turkey sandwich and chocolate brownie I just had for lunch. The feast was pricier than we normally allow, so thank God my offer of going Dutch was ignored! Brownie points for Boyf: *****

Saturday I did some work on my dissertation and checked out X Factor. It was the first show so it's still in the national humiliation stage. You gots to have guts to go on them there shows. On Sunday we went back over to the park to check out the Godfest they were having. Got there just in time to hear a big sermon about how we don't deserve to be saved but we can be if we accept Jesus into our lives. You all know where Jesus was on Sunday right? Yep, a park in Liverpool. Hope he comes back next weekend or he'll miss the Beatles festival; it's much better. Voices with Soul, who were on X Factor last year, came on just before we left and were talking about how they'd changed the words of songs so they didn't have to say the Devil's words (oh okay they didn't put it quite like that), so they murdered Lady Marmalade: "I'm not going to sleep with anyone unless Jesus is in my bed!" Huh? I liked them when they were on the show too. Shame. Anyway the annoying preacher bloke on before them was waffling about Manchester United and mentioned an unmentionable rag of a newspaper. Lesson no.1 - know your audience. He also came out with a ludicrous analogy in which Wayne Rooney was God. No. Really. Anyway I wasn't converted, more alarmed.

Over and out.