My New Favourite Place In Soho - Trisha's

 

How I've missed this place for the 26 years on this planet, I'll never know. 

Welcome to Trisha's. 

Sometimes called The Blue Door.

Sometimes called New Evaristo Club.

Sometimes called That Little Place On Greek Street That Nobody Knows The Name Of. 

Behind the little blue door on Greek Street, Soho lives an underground drinking lair that makes you feel like you are part of a really special little gang. The place doesn't look like it's been touched since it opened in 1940-something and it's charm hits you like a strong scotch.

It's dark, the bar looks like the side board in someone's kitchen and you've got to walk through the loos to get outside for a smoke. You feel like you're at home. Or the home of one of your best mate's Mum's who's been on the lash for 60 years. 

Even the light switch is just on the wall like it would be if you were indoors. Word for the wise tho, don't turn it on. That doesn't go down well.

It's chintzy, it plays Frank Sinatra and the landlady still sits at the end of the bar. 

Drinks are cheap for Soho. £15 for a bottle of decent red. £4ish for a spirit and a mixer. And the bloke behind the bar is the friendliest guy you'll come across. 

But most importantly, you feel like you are part of a really exclusive club. And that you've been let in to a brilliant little secret. 

The doorman is a hero, they sell Walkers and the toilets are nice & clean, again like you'd expect in someone's house. 

It's free to get in on school nights, and only £2 entry on a Friday and a Saturday.

Get yourselves down there...we loved it last night. 

Trisha's

 3dx, 57 Greek St, London W1D 3DX

 A must. 

LLx

Dating App No-No's for you, boys

Just a few words to the wise. If you're after a date on one of the hundred dating apps flooding our phones, then please avoid the following. Taken from a variety of sources, mainly the girls at work!

Us girls aren't digging them. 

1.Ayt Bbz.

I'm neither 15, nor do I have the IQ of a worm. Please, please have more respect for my intelligence and spell things correctly. And don't use 'ayt' as your first greeting. Please.

2. The Bathroom Selfie

I'm really pleased for you that your last ab popped out in the gym today, but all I can see is how long it seems to have been since you cleaned your bath. And it's making me want to be a bit sick. Also, is that a pair of socks on the floor? Or your pants? Ew.

3. The Low Slung Jogging Bottom

Leave something to the imagination. For the love of god.

4. Sunglasses Wearing

The odd sunglasses shot is fine. But not in every picture. Eyes tell a million stories and I need to see yours. Mainly just to see if you fall into either the 'Axe Murderer' or 'Potential Father Of My Children' category.

5. The Vegas Shot.

Call me old fashioned, but a picture of you holding two bottles of Grey Goose, in a pool with 16 half clad blondes doesn't scream 'husband material' to me.

6. Tattoo Close Ups

I'm not considering going out for dinner with your right shoulder blade, so just your face is fine for now. Thanks.

7. Emoji smut.

It's not big, and it's not clever. Spelling out various sexual acts with little yellow people is not the way to my heart. Even if I do find some of them pretty impressive.

8. Group Shots.

Please don't make your primary picture one of you among 4 other people. It's highly likely that I'm just going to prefer your mate. And he's probably married. It's just sad all round.

9. Love at first swipe.

Marriage proposals straight off the bat are mildly horrifying. Just saying.

10. Compliment carnage.

Nice eyes. Lovely
What a lovely smile. Sweet.
Head straight in for boob praise. Doubtful.

11. Too Keen.

I like persistence in a man. But if I don't reply to your message, please don't re-send a number of messages such as the below. It can be off putting.

'Oh, no hello then?'

Clearly not

'Oh come on babe, have a chat'

Not your babe, no.

Or one of my favourites.

'You're not my type anyway'

Thanks for stopping by dickhead.

LL X

Things People Don't Tell You About Leaving Home

It's a year ago this week since I moved into our flat. A year since I left the busom of the earth mother herself, Sue Irwin.This week I've finally mustered up the courage to go halves on a sofa and finally set up some direct debits. Whilst battling with the washing machine drawer yesterday and getting covered in old fabric softener, I realised there are so many things people don't tell you about leaving home.

In the coming weeks, thousands of students will embark on the journey of a lifetime, living on their own for the first time ever and I think it's time to share some wisdom.

So here are the things people don't tell you about leaving home.

- First things first, cleaning out the drawer in the washing machine is hands down one of the rankest things you'll ever do. Who knew water could hum so bad?

- Surprisingly, that big white box in the corner of your kitchen doesn't fill itself up automatically. In fact, it costs a small bloody fortune to fill up.

- TV license is the biggest rip know to man kind.

- Funnily enough, if you don't clean, nobody else will and before you know it you are living in a dust castle. 

- You'll get a bit obsessed with cleaning products. You'll have a favourite brand of Pledge in less than 6 weeks. 

- If you sleep through your alarm, your fucked. Your mum won't just arrive with tea and a gentle nudge. You'll be late & sacked.

- Flats don't just come with a magic cupboard that contains every light bulb under the sun. When they go, you have to track down the right one. And risk your life changing it on a rickety old chair. Because your super long Dad doesn't live in your living room anymore.

- You begin to appreciate how hard your Mum worked at keeping a cupboard of snacks at home. Because on a Sunday morning, when you're dying of a hangover, you just need to know that there is a variety of crisps in the kitchen. Instead, when you live alone, you have to dress yourself to go out and buy them. Heartbreaking.

- You'll learn to really like black coffee. Because you'll constantly forget to buy any milk.

- You'll go weeks without a roast dinner. They are such headache to even consider making for yourself. And joints of meat cost the earth.

- Cleaning out a plug hole is horrifying. World ending amounts of hair and manky soap. Vom.

- Sometimes you'll just have wine for dinner, cos you don't have a cupboard full of ingredients to "rustle something up", so you just don't bother.

- Rent is an actual thing. Like, if you don't pay it, you will be a full on tramp.

& last but not least 

- you'll wake up in the night to the smallest noise...cos your Dad ain't there anymore to protect you from the bloody boogie man.

LLx

Things That Happen In Lille

My lovely mate Ben turned 30 on Monday. He had, what can only be described as a world ending Hula party on Saturday. It was that good I wore a coconut bra. Don't believe me...here it comes.

And then he invited a few of us to join him on a little few days away to France to celebrate.

Great idea we thought. What a treat, we said. 

Where are we going, we asked. Lille he said. 

Well. 

Well. Well.

Here's some things to know before you book your trip of a lifetime to French's fine city.

1. It rains. Pretty much all of the time. And when it doesn't rain. It's really quite windy. 

2. Their local dish is basically cheese on toast. Except there's only one slice of really thin bread in it. And about 700 grams of cheese. So basically their local dish is a bowl of melted cheese. Ever so rich. 

3. They stop serving lunch everywhere at 2pm. So if you want to eat, don't have breakfast and just go for lunch at 11.30am. It's safer that way. Don't ask anyone if their kitchen is open past 2pm. They will look at you with the glare of the devil. 

4. The Cathedral is actually beautiful. Unless it's raining. Which it probably will be. Then it's just a bit of a grey old building.

5. The architecture is half French and half Flemish and ever so pretty. If it stops raining, you might even get enough time to take a photo of it. Below.

6. The beer out there will Fuck. You. Up. They feel no way about selling lagers that are 12%. Yep, you heard me. 12%. Dead. On. The. Floor. 

7. Even when you speak to the locals in French, they don't understand you because they speak a local dialect which is a mixture of French and Flemmish. They'll either ignore you if you speak to them in French or just reply in English. So just stick with what you know. 

8. They sell incredible Pina Coladas. Random but true. 

9.  Learn to read French before you go. Because when in a hurry, and ordering on the quick, you may think you have ordered a chicken and frites dish and in fact what you end up with is this...yep, that's just bits of rancid pork in some jelly. Poor Jamie.

10. Red wine basically comes out of the taps. It's like a pisshead's dream. Hence why Ben 'loves it' everso. 

11. Taxis don't exist. So either learn to walk. Or. Well. Don't go. Transport options are ever so limited. 

12. They know how to cook steak good. Real good. 

13. After two nights you won't sleep very well. Because you've eaten so much cheese that you've started having really horrendous nightmares. Just a warning. 

14. Don't take flip flops. Did I mention how much it rains? 

15. If you ask for shots expect one of the following to arrive. A) Jager, Vodka and Melon Liquor in a glass. B) Mouthwash. Really, really boozy mouthwash.

16. The pastries are out of the this world. Like, world ending. 

17. The coffee is that strong, you often need to use a knife to drink it. Which is handy, because you will have got so pissed waiting for the rain to stop, you'll need your heart starting again. 

18. And last but not least, don't go with Ben. Because he gets really drunk, pretends he knows the way home, and leads you on a 45 minute badly guided tour of the rough parts of town. 

LL

x

The Internet's Going To Kill Us.

Where are you reading this blog? On the train, on the bus, whilst you're waiting for the kettle to boil?

If you are on the train, look around you. How many people are looking out of the window? 1, maybe 2?

And why are they looking out of the window?

Because of the view? To get some head space from the day? Because actually there is something really relaxing about watching rain hit a window?

No.

I'll bet you a fiver now that it's because their phone died before they boarded the train. 

If you took the time to look up now you would be surrounded by people, hinge in neck, staring down at a white illuminated screen, scrolling away with their thumbs. 

We live in an age where nobody is never more than 5cms away from a device that will provide them with instant access to a world of information. We sit in front of them all day at work, they are in our hands the minute we leave the office and we sleep with them right near our heads. I am convinced, that without some enforced self control, the internet is going to kill our brains a  little bit and in ten year's time the world is gonna be a real different place. Want to hear my predictions? Of course you bloody do...

Here they come....

We will work 7 day weeks. No job will be 9-5, Monday-Friday. It's already going that way, but as a standard, you will be provided with a work phone that means you can check in at all times and by 2025 I can see us dialing into conference calls whilst having a poo. Holidays will no longer be a proper break and our sleep patterns will be interrupted by late night emails about those things that really aren't important. 

It in turn will affect our relationships, because we will become practically married to our jobs and our wives and husbands will hate us. However, it won't be so bad if our love stories end because in about 25 seconds we will download one of 750 apps at our disposal to provide us with access to the nearest single person in our area, or in our block of flats, or in our office. In fact, one will be installed as a default to every iPhone. Like the AppleWatch app...AppleOfMyEye perhaps?

 With little to no effort, we will organise dates with people we have no life like chemistry with and hope for the best. And if it doesn't go well, who cares, because when they go to the loo we will just logon and find a new one. We will become even more brutal than we are already and it will be common practise to know the name, age and occupation of everyone on our daily commute, not because we speak to them, but because our location based app tells us. Or because we've already chatted to them online. Mystery will go. As will the art of conversation. 

Brave one liners and pick up lines will become even more a thing of the past and when we make our speeches at our weddings they will start with 'well he sent me a love heart eyed emoji, and the rest is history'.

 Not that we will probably bother with the speeches, we will just send them out via email the day before because everyone will be in a 2025 rush and will have four weddings to go to that day because social media has meant they've 'kept in touch' with a hundred more people than they would have done 20 years ago, therefore having more invites than you can shake a stick at and also making it difficult to decline one invite and accept another in case you get 'tagged' and caught out.

 Our grandkids will be told that Nanny and Pops fell in love at first swipe and that will be the end of what we all hoped would be the greatest love story on earth. There will be no chase, no months of dating & chivalry. No butterflies. Just pictures on screens, and speedy dates in bars before you rush off to the next one. It will become common practice to date two people, in the same evening, in the same bar.

Stalking will become a nationwide epidemic and people will become scared to check a Whats'app or logon to their Facebook incase the girl or guy their avoiding can instantly find out where they are, come round, and hide in their bloody bin. This a genuine, irratic, concern of mine.

Our enjoyment of things will begin to dwindle, because rather than looking & enjoying what's around us, we will be emailing work, or checking Tinder or uploading an image of the thing we are looking at to social media (just to prove to everyone that we went to secondary school with, that we are having a nice time). Our eyes will only grow accustomed to see historical landmarks through the screen on a phone.

Then, rather than sitting back and enjoying the view, we will continually check how many people 'liked' what we were doing, and our choice of filter. 

This is already happening. We went to the pub after work on Friday and out of a table of six, four people were on their phone at the same time. Nobody was talking, everyone was just looking down. Depressing. PUT IT IN YOUR POCKET.

 Conversations with old friends will start with 'So.....I read your timeline before you got here so I'm all caught up'. You'll then just probably sit in silence whilst you both look at your phones some more before digitially turning on your heating indoors so it's warm enough for when you get dropped off by your digitally ordered cab.

 Shopping will stop and we will do everything from our sofa or from the train. Even interaction with a shopkeeper will be a thing of the past. They'll all shut because rather than running out of milk, Asda will have automatically taped into our fridge and replenish what we need before we have a chance to forget. Everything will be delivered by android so we won't even get to talk to the postman anymore and we'll become some impatient with life in general because same day delivery will become normality.

Ok, ok, I'm ranting now but you get where I'm coming from?

However...if we're not careful, can you imagine what our kids lives will be like...

We will have to teach them about books and what we used them for and that there were these amazing places called libraries back in the day but now they are just flats because Kindle put them all out of business.

 They will look at us blankly when we tell them that there are other ways to find out historical facts without typing in a long white box. We'll have to teach them how to write, not just touch a screen to draft a letter. They will never know the amazing thing that is bubble writing....they'll just choose a fancy font. 

They will never experience the joy of sending or receiving a postcard. They will Google how to build a den. GOD! Them accessing porn at the age of 8 will be an actual concern of ours. They will have to get their eyes checked more often because small humans weren't made to stare at white light, they were made to play in mud, and play pretend and BE OUTSIDE! 

Ok. This rant is making me tired but it's scary.

We need to really watch it, before we become a nation of cotton wool headed knobs who can't function without 4G. 

As such, for the next week, I am going as internet free as humanly possible in this day and age. From the minute this blog posts, I am not going to buy anything online, I'm going to buy newspapers, I will not spend all of my lunch hour on BuzzFeed and I will not check social media. I will still be online at work sadly, because as much as I love this blog, it don't pay the bills. 

I will try my up most to only old school text or call. No What'sApp or FB messenger for a week. 

Watch. This. Space.

In a week's time I will reappear with my findings. And if by some miracle, I haven't self combusted or jumped off of Waterloo Bridge, I am going to ask you all to join me in having an 'Internet Free Day' and spending some time looking out of the bloody window.

Wish me luck! 

See you in a week .

LL x

The 26 Things That Happen When You Turn 26.

There's me on my 26th birthday. This year we all turned 26. We all took it a variety of ways. Some of us buggered off traveling to "find ourselves", some walked away from what was no longer making us happy, some of us had engagement parties.

Sarah had a full on breakdown. 

Today the girls & I had a chat about what happens when you turn 26.

Here was the outcome. 

The 26 Things That Happen When You Turn 26.

1. You halfheartedly begin to think a little bit more about your finances. Let's not mess about & pretend that on the morning of your 26th birthday, you're down the bank getting an ISA, but you do start to consider, potentially, perhaps, maybe putting a bit to one side each month.

2. Your metabolism will bite you on the arse. You may well have once been (this doesn't apply to me) the size 8 bird that could eat like Britain's Strongest Man, but now it's catching up with you...and the first time in your life you have a little roll when you sit down.  So long McDonald's for dinner every night. Hello avocado....

3. Your ability to 'lay-in' dwindles. Remember them days you would sleep til like 2pm and not bat an eyelid? Not now. 8am you say? On a Sunday? Well of course you're wide awake. What. Is. Life.

4. All of a sudden your Facebook news feed is full of school friend's weddings and children's first birthdays. And you're  sitting there going on one date a month thinking 'soon come'.

Whilst also secretly still being scared of long term commitment. Cos 26 is still basically adolescence.

5. You start giving 'advice' to younger people in your office.

 Like you're ever so sorted and got your life together.

 AS IF.

6. You start seeing the appeal in buying home furnishings and making your flat not look like student digs. God knows where it comes from but out of nowhere you're like Little Miss Scatter Cushion running round TK Maxx like it's some pimped up version of Supermarket Sweep.

7. You no longer can be arsed with 'the game'. Any remotely aloof bloke, who you would have previously pursued, just gets jogged on. 

Cos you're busy buying scatter cushions and ain't got time for this white noise. 

Ghosted.

8. In a long-term relationship? 26 is what is affectionately known as 'shit-or-bust' age. If you've been together 4 years plus, at this age, you're either getting a ring on it immiently or your heading for a split. 

I'm sorry boys & girls. 

It's fact.

9. You finally come to terms with the fact that you're never going to be famous. It's tough. But you've got there eventually.

10. Somehow you earn more & more money but yet you have less & less of it. Maybe it's due to gas price increases?  Or because you don't drink house wine anymore?  Who knows? It's a mystery. 

11. You genuinely look into moving abroad because you're old enough to handle it but young enough that if it goes tits up the wrong way, you can still move back to your Mum's and nobody would massively judge you. 

12. You have to listen to your parents saying 'I was married at your age' and your grandparents saying 'I had your Mum at your age' and the voice in your head saying 'but I still want to spend all my money in the pub'.

13. You're of the age of getting plus ones to a wedding. Annnnd I'll be RSVP'ing for just me then.

14. Clubbing is for children. You do not line up to get in anywhere. And if there's no seats in the bar you go to, you more often than not leave. Immediately. 

15. Your job becomes half serious & calling in sick on a hangover is no longer the done thing. Take me back to my receptionist days of one phone call an hour and clocking off at 4.30pm. School hours mate. School hours.

16. You are no longer down with words that the kids use. Any idea how long I've spent googling 'fleek' to find if my eyebrows are? Or 'trap queen' to find out if I count as one? It would transpire that they neither are and I neither am. 

17. You actually begin to understand the benefits of going to the gym and drinking green tea and basically just not plugging every hole in your body with white bread. Eating pizza & never moving becomes a bit old hat and out of nowhere you are all over the gym like a tramp on hot chips.

18. You forget how old you are to an extent...'Oh she's 24, my age' No mate. 

Well that's until someone, normally who's attempting to flirt with you, asks how old you are. You say 'guess' (standard pub chat) and they say 'Hmmm 28, 29?'. 

Then you fucking remember how old you are. Quick sharp. 

19. Smear tests are an actual thing in your life.  Kill. Me. Now. 

20. You stop looking for 'the guy'. If they show up then marvellous. If not, you and your flat mate are totally OK with buying a dog and living a long, sexless life together. You've had the chat.  Your both bored of idiots and you find each other hilarious. It's done.

21.You have them Sunday's when you sit there and think 'SHITTTTT WHAT AM I DOING WITH MY LIFE'. Hours of self depriciation can pass, anxiety that you're not living a life that is fulfilled enough or that you will die wrinkly and alone. You Google evening classes, speed dating nights and Hot Spin Yoga Kill You In 20 Minutes sessions.

Then you just go buy a pizza and get over yourself because you realise you're just a bit hungover and being dramatic. 

22. You realise the five year plan you had at 21 was complete and utter bullocks.

23. You realise that the chances of you making new 'real' mates is slim. You've got what you've got & on the whole they're pretty awesome. If you've put up with them for over ten years just put up & shut up. 

24. You begin to get over your hang ups. Remember when you nearly chopped your nose of at 17 because it had a bump in it? Or when you nearly knocked all your teeth out because your reflection made you hurl? Now you're just like 'I don't look like Susan Boyle today. Sweet'

25. You begin to do exactly what you want. Because you have the money to. And the freedom to. And you haven't got any kids to feed so it's absolutely acceptable to blow a month's money on two new pairs of shoes & a long weekend booze cruise to France. #augusthappenings

& last but not least

26. You stop crying as much as you did when you were younger. You stop crying over boys and feelings and arguments and getting your 'heart broken'. You save it for the real important shit.

 Like when someone dies. 

Or you run out of Nivea. 

LLx

You might also like these from my blog

#25

http://theladyoflondon.blogspot.co.uk/2014/01/25.html

#whenshitgetsreal

http://theladyoflondon.blogspot.co.uk/2015/06/when-shit-gets-real.html

Things that happen when you leave London

Once again we find a blog that starts with the infamous Joanie Brickell. Look at that little moosh. 

Although she is a London girl down to her socks, she doesn't live here, sadly for us. She's currently causing trouble in a little place called Herne Bay down on the Kent coast. It's quaint. The size of my flat and you see the same people everywhere. It's nice, just nice, but nice. 20 odd years ago Grandad and her upped sticks and left glorious South London for sea air, the British Legion Club and a 20 foot garden. They never looked back. I still prefer Tulse Hill, but they were happy with their lot.

I went down to see her yesterday and for the first time in forever, I got the train. This meant Nan & I had a little day out on our own minus a vehicle...which never happens. The lack of car and need to get around on our own, also meant that the harsh realness of what happens when you leave London hit me like a bus. 

Here's some examples;

- Buses actually arrive at exact times past the hour, and when you get on them you have to pay with actual cash money. And ask questions like "can I have a single to the Pier please?". Buses have never seen contactless payment cards and you actually get a paper ticket... and a smile. Head fuck.

- People speak to you at bus stops. And not as pre cursor to mugging you or chatting you up. Just to pass the time. A guy blessed me when I sneezed yesterday. Spun me out. 

- Train stations only have two platforms. Sorry, what? 

- They also don't house a Starbucks. Or even a shop. Just a closed ticket office. 

- There's like zero signal. Anywhere.

- There's like shit loads of grass. Everywhere.

- There's no bars. All of the pubs but no bars. Oh yeah, and amusement arcades are still classed as entertainment. Naturally. 

- The shop at the end of the road isn't automatically a Sainsbury's. Sometimes there's like an actual greengrocers. Shocking, I know.

- The charity shops still have wedding dresses in the windows and are actually charity shop prices. You know rather than racks and racks of Marc Jacobs with an average RRP of £*get a mortgage* like in London.

- It takes forever to get anywhere. The buses service all residential roads, in the world, ever...and they actually wait at stops for their allocated departure time. Ever such a lack of urgency outside the M25.

- Everyone is well old. And well white. Real shit.

- You either get offered tea or coffee. That's it. Lattes just aren't a thing. Don't dare ask for a Flat White. You will be punched. 

- People say "Hello" in the street. Sometimes they stop and comment on the weather. It's all a bit nutty. 

- C A R B O O T S A L E S A R E E V E R Y W H E R E 

- Loads of places are cash only. And the only cash points are in actual banks. Like it's the 90's or some shit. Excuse me? 

- Did I mention how white and old everyone is? 

- Kids still wear Kangol. Oh yeah, that's happening. 

- The news boards outside shops tell real, hard hitting, breaking news. Yesterday's special "Aldi Store Opening - Delayed" - for the record, that sent the Kent Gazzette into a flurry of panic and deadlines. 

& last but not least, the thing that spun me out the most.

- Uber. "No Cars Available". Run!!!

LLx

Me & Mrs Jones

So my sister's fella bought me one of them NowTV boxes. You know the ones that give you access to pretty much every TV show and film that's ever been released but still leave you feeling like you have nothing to watch? Yeah, that.

Well, seen as you asked, I stumbled across Bridget Jones' Diary on there the other day. I've seen it circa 40 times but recovering from a savage week at work and unable to function I thought it best to watch something that required little to no concentration.

It was only three quarters of the way through when the similarities between myself and the well spoken, chain smoking blonde on the screen in front of me became abundantly clear. Obviously...not blonde. Clearly...not well spoken. Blatantly...can't afford to live in Borough Market. HOWEVER. The below comparisons are quite frightening.

First and foremost, she has her diary...I have this blog. Potato. Potata.

Like our Bridg, my taste in pyjamas is second to none. I mean, there is nothing quite like the sight of a well hipped lady like me, sitting in heart printed men's boxer shorts and an XXXXL grey jumper that someone in her family once bought in the Guinness Factory in Dublin. Coupled with a pair of specs, a distinct lack of make up and a top knot that makes me look like a teletubby. I often pull that face above when I realise I ate all the Doritos.

I also pull this face a lot. Normally followed by me saying 'Really?!'. Sometimes it's aimed at people. Sometimes at situations. Often at comments that a passer by has made that has made me instantly judge them. Laura says I do this thing where I purse my lips and it instantly makes people feel really bad about themselves...apparently it's really cutting...No idea what she's on about. 

 

 My best mate Laura is literally this woman. Her advice often starts with the word 'fuck'. Or on the exhale of a Marlborough Silver. She is ALWAYS on my side even if I'm wrong & she always, always gets me into trouble. Did I mention she says 'fuck' a lot. Except with Laura it's really elongated. More like a 'fuuucccckkkk'.

 

I've got a penchant for bastards.

 They have a bigger penchant for me.

I'm working on it. 

 

 Me & my mates have been known to class wine as a food group and replace meals with it more often than we should. Katie introduced me to wine and I hate her & love her for it in equal measure. Sometimes we do it in our jim jams like Jones.

 

Most Sunday's in the winter, I like to sit on my sofa, in my duvet, and eat an entire bar of Galaxy. The above image pretty much epitomises my winter weekends. It also signifies how well a duvet does at hiding the rolls that appear around your midriff after the 6th bar of Galaxy. It's like a feather down confidence boost.

 

Like Jones, I always give myself a talking to on the way to work & genuinely convince myself that by the time I've got to work I will have lost four stone, got promoted & miraculously became an overnight superstar just like whichever 22 year old starlet is on my iPod.

I'm also proper shit at kareoke. Trust me. It's bad. Like, really bloody bad.

I too, am dreadful at fancy dress. Nothing ever fits, my boobs get in the way and rather than look like a playboy bunny siren, I just look like a twat. Best yet was when I went to a Halloween do dressed as a ventriloquist dummy. I got stuck in the rain which turned my make up to mud and made me look like Courtney Love had had an affair with a Lego man. Needless to say, I didn't pull that night.

 

Similarly, when attractive people of the opposite sex are nice to me, I more often than not turn into a bumbly mess. 

 

...then there's the line I feel I utter in my head on too frequent a basis.

& last but not least the picture that sums it all up just lovely.

 Except my Mum is actually a don. The one difference.



LL x

Sick With Worry

You know the stupid things that you worry about every day, that are proper dumb, but make you feel sick all the same. Yeah. Here they are.

- Checking your bank balance. Genuinely the most nauseating task any one human can undertake in the 10 days leading up to payday...or the 10 days straight after depending how much of a wrecker you are.

- That your Mum will one day find out how much is on your credit card. Might be 26 but that flying slipper still scares the shit out of me. 

 -That your boss will rumble how much your LinkedIn activity has increased in the recent weeks. Eeek!

 - That you've got Metro paper ink all over your moosh when you walk into a meeting and nobody in reception had the nerve to tell you. That right there is a gut wrencher.

- That everyone on the train knows how much enjoyment you get from reading Rush Hour Crush. LOVE HOW THAT CAN SOMETIMES UNFOLD. 

- That you'll risk a hayfever sneeze when not in possession of a Kleenex and make a right old mess in your hand. Now that's a concern.

- That the 'see who's looking at your Facebook' thing is actually real and you'll finally be tumbled for how long you spend at lunch time having a good old stalk of girls you went to school with and comparing their lives to yours.

- THAT YOU LEFT YOUR HAIR STRAIGHTENERS ON.

- That the bad breath smell on the train is actually you. Even though you were born with decent human skills and leave the house minty fresh...you always to second guess yourself.

- That you might actually fall down the gap at the station. One puff of wind and your over. Even though you are a good, meaty (rather not say how many stones) lady and the chances are slim to none. 

(See what I did there? Slim. I make myself laugh...)

- That you have red lipstick all over your teeth and the people on the bus aren't your mates so they won't tell you and will just let you walk round looking like a bad hooker.

- That the fitty on the bus will think you're a bad hooker because of the lipstick problem. OH GOD THIS ESCALATED.

- That you might be that girl that falls off the treadmill in the gym. So you just avoid it and as such stay flabbier than you really should be. 

- That you might not make it home with 45% battery so you aeroplane it from 3pm onwards.

- That you'll miss out on a life changing what'sapp or tweet if you go on aeroplane mode for too long. (this was someone else's not mine, my phone is on plane mode for a good 40% of the day, I'm going off people at a staggering rate)

- That you'll sleep through your alarm...so you automatically wake up an hour too early and hate yourself a bit. 

& last but not least

 - That you've swiped the love off your life in haste off of your Tinder and there's no way to get him back. Ever. He's gone and your destined to live with a cat. Ouch. 

LLx

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When Shit Gets Real

I've had one of them weeks when suddenly you feel like a grown up. I mean, not whole heartedly. It's still me at the end of the day....my financial affairs are mildly amusing and I still eat fish finger sandwiches for dinner and regard it as a well rounded meal.

I am the female Peter Pan and have had nothing but issues with admitting that I am now in my mid-20's. I will forever be 21 in my mind and be happy about it.

However.

This week has been an eye opener. Several different events/conversations/sets of circumstances have rolled their way towards me that have made me realise that shit has begun to get a little bit real.

& here they are.

You find a grey hair. In what you thought was a luscious red barnet. A grey, wirey hair like your Mum has. Real shit.

When you get referred to as a 'woman'. Not a girl, not 'that bird', but 'if you ask the woman over there with the red hair, with the grey bit in it, she'll help you'. OH GOD.

When you sit down and balance transfer your mounting credit card. Because you want to be a grown up & not keep hiding the bills under the microwave. The sense of mature pride is too much to bear. Clearing out under the microwave brings all of the shame.  

When you get given an intern at work and actually have to manage their time as well as your own. And they are 22 and you think, 'oh we're a similar age' and then you realise that you found a grey hair this morning and her Dad still pays her phone bill. Deadly.

When you download a budget app, because you're bored of earning decent money & spending it all on gin & lipsticks. And you naively hope that a colourful, well recommended, button on your phone will sort your shit out for you. Sure.

When your best mate is planning her engagement party and you realise you aren't 15 and sitting in English anymore and you're actually going to have to see her walk down an aisle in the near future and you sweat a little bit.

Your favourite party boy of all time has a baby and suddenly became a proper man about everything. You feel proud, but also a little bit itchy.

You take recommendations on what books to read on the train. That's the real-est shit.

When you eat crap for a week and drink too much on school nights and realise that your body actually prefers it when you eat avacodos and drink plenty of clear fluids (that aren't gin) & you hate yourself for not being a 21 year old party machine anymore as you pack your gym bag knowing it's the only way out.

When you notice how much you are having to wear your glasses these days....and how you really can't read the train times without them....and you book in for a contact lens appointment because you still can't bear the thought of being a perma specky four eyes.

When you actually get a kick out of having a Friday night in. Horribly real shit. 

When you check emails on the way in to work. Cos that's your life now. Christ.

When you start ordering something other than house wine, cos you understand how rank it is and the extra four quid really aint a thing these days.

You begin refusing shots. No. No I don't want a instant hit of pure booze on a Wednesday.

You realise Primark shoes just fall apart and are a false economy. Instead you wait two months and buy a pair of Russell & Bromley's and your feet love you forever.

& the most real of all the real shit.

When you ask your Dad how the Sapphire Wedding Anniversary party was that he went too last night...and he's says "yeah great, had two shots of tequila didn't I?"...

..and you realise he's

 a) probably having a mid life crisis

b) is harder than you.

 Shit's real. 

Freak Out

It's a well known fact, that as humans, we do a very good job at ballsing things up. We're really good at it. Prime example of when we balls things up is when we freak out, and after many years listening and living some classic relationship stories, I've learnt that we freak out the best when we're seeing people. Here is the classic list of things that men & women freak out about and if you don't relate to at least three - you are bionic.

The Freak Out

- He texts back straight away. Does he not have anything else to do? Am I filling a really dreadful void left in his life by a crazy ex wife or a jail sentence. I'm probably better off just not seeing him again.

- He takes six hours to text back. Who else is he shagging? I'm nobody's fool. Ended. 

- God she's typing. I'm typing. CLINGY.

- I'm not entirely sure I'm ok with someone that doesn't wear socks and rolls up his trousers. I mean, he's great & such a laugh. But I just don't think I can handle that long term. OH GOD.

- She just brought up going away for a weekend. I can't think of anything better than spending a few days holed up in a hotel room with her. But really? Mini break? What am I? 40? Leave it out mate. 

- She wears a lot of make up. What if she's dog rough in the morning. And my flat mate sees her and tells the boys. Jesus this is a risk. They need to think she's fit.

- HE CAN SEE THROUGH MY JEANS THAT I'VE NOT SHAVED MY LEGS. I'd better call it a night.

- Apparently her ex boyfriend owned his own property firm. I just work in marketing. Nah. Can't afford this shit.

- SHE HELPED HERSELF TO FOOD OFF MY PLATE. It's been 6 months. What the fuck does she think this is? 

- As if I told her this was causal and I've just seen her leaving work with another bloke. What is that about?  Cheeky mare.   What have I done?  

- He opened his eyes when he kissed me. He's 100% lost interest. Better leave before he shits on me.

- She's way out of my league. God knows why she keeps texting me back. She's probably a nutter init. Almost certainly a nutter. The pretty ones always are. But she's so pretty. Oh man. 

- Oh god he supports the same football team as my ex. OMEN.

- She's left her toothbrush in MY bathroom. Without an offer. Just left it there. Right next to mine. She's going to be picking out curtains next ain't she. Mate! 

- Ah I left my toothbrush in his bathroom by mistake. He's going to think I'm going to try and marry him init. So much emphasis on a bloody toothbrush. 

- He's just become friends with WHO on Facebook? Oh she's got really big boobs. Probably need to buy some new bras. Or find out who she is immediately.

- SHE JUST CALLED ME HER BOYFRIEND. Entrapment. I mean, I was gonna bring it up. But on my terms.

- HE JUST CALLED ME HIS GIRLFRIEND. Must. Try. Stay. Calm. And. Not. Text. The. Girls. Immediately. To. Ascertain. What. His. Game. Is. 

& last but not least 

- she's wife material. I mean literally what I've always said I wanted. Laid back, funny, proper fit.

But I'm not 30 yet. I've got years of pantless good times ahead. I'm in my prime. 

I'd better end it.

LL x 

The Questions All 15 Year Old Girls Ask Themselves.

Here's one of my favorite pictures from my teenage years. Top button undone, hooped earrings and flagged by girls I'm still pleased to call mates. One now lives abroad, one is about to take over the music management scene and I am still taller than both of them...anyway, I digress.

 On my to work every morning, I walk past the same 15 year old girl, the same age as I am in this picture I think (don't hold me to that). We cross paths at Primark (because Croydon is all the class) and my heart goes out to her every day. If she's not pulling up her knee high socks (they're back) or ruffling her pony tail, she's pulling at her shirt or arguing with her bag strap. She looks so uncomfortable with herself and I feel her pain. Being 15 is the WORST. And every bit of me wants to just say to her one morning 'In 10 years, none of this will matter' but I know that she's probably been awake til 2am because Ben Miller didn't reply to her text, or her Mum found her Cosmo magazine under her bed and cried because she finally found out about bikini waxing, or her best friend stopped talking to her for NO reason. It got me thinking about all the things that are awful about being that age, and how you could never pay me enough money to go back to it. But also, how many questions I would ask myself each and every day!

Here they are, with the help of the girls obviously, 

The Questions All 15 Year Old Girls Ask Themselves.

1. What length should I be wearing my tie today? What will the repercussions be if I get it wrong? Will it make my mates hate me? Probably.

2. Why is Mum trying to ruin my life by telling me I'm too young to wear make up? When I have a face that looks like a pizza. And I'm basically going to get spat on when I go to school tomorrow.

3. Why is Mum trying to ruin my life by telling me I'm too young to shave my legs? When I have monkey legs and the boys in my class will start calling me Monkey Legs by the end of PE tomorrow.

4. Why is everyone else wearing a thong? Do they not go up your fanny? Do they not make you feel like you're being cut in half? They kind of scare me.

5. Will I get married to Rob Compton? Because he looked at me in Maths. So I'm pretty sure we will.

6. WHERE ARE MY DISNEY SOCKS? I can't wear my jogging bottoms out without them. My life is over.

7. What song lyric should I have as my MSN screename to expose every emotion I am feeling right now? It should probably be off the new Usher album. Because he just gets me. 

8.Will I know for definite if I'm a lesbian? Because I might be and not just know? No I really do think I'll marry Rob Compton. I mean he's got a girlfriend but I'm defintley number one. 

9. DoILickADickADay? Do people actually do that? Oh god. 

10. Will my fanny fall off if I use Immac? If my mum finds out will she kill me? How much air freshener gets rid of the smell from the bathroom? 

11. I think I might be sick if I smoke that? But everyone else is, so should I? Why do I feel like the room is moving? Why am I laughing so much? Oh god.

12. If I don't revise for my GCSEs will I really get a job in Tesco? And will I have to stay there forever? Or will I actually be OK cos, well, my cousins are? 

13. What if my teeth hit his when he kisses me for the first time? What if my breath stinks? Oh god he's coming for my face. OHHHHH GOOOOOD. Yeah I kissed a boy. I'm such a don. Why is he not talking to me? Why has he told everyone our teeth clashed when they didn't? I hate him.

14. Why are Jack Moorcroft & Chris Kirby playing catch with that girls sanitary towel? That's really mean. But why am I laughing so much? Am I a bitch or is that just funny? Oh god is my bag zipped up? Oh no it's my sanitary towel. I hate them.

15. How bad are Teacher/Student affairs really? Because Mr Ashdown is SO FIT AND I LOVE HIM. 

16. Why did he spend all night talking to be on MSN and is now ignoring me? But texting me to say I look pretty in Science? But cussing me when he's with his friends? Why are boys so mean? I think I love him. 

17. Will I get arrested if I forge my Mum's signature in my homework planner? But I did all my homework so should I just ask her to sign it? But if people see me faking her signature they'll think I'm cool. I've done it. I'm cool.

18. Will my hoops ever stop hurting my ears? They're so achy. 

19. Why is my shirt not doing up? Oh my god I had a boob spurt over night. And it's only Wednesday. Which means no new shirts til Saturday. Will this mean I get a boyfriend?

20. Will anyone ever fancy me? Train tracks are RUINING MY WHOLE LIFE.

21. How many calories were in that ice cream? Should I just not eat til a week Tuesday? Because being fat is the worst thing in the world ever.

22. Why won't Mum let me use the phone to call my mate? I need to know what she's wearing shopping tomorrow. So I can wear the exact same thing. Because that is how we do. 

23. Will I be a virgin forever? Probably. I've got braces and it's Valentines Day and nobody left a card for me in tutor time. Oh wait, they did? Who was it? Was it a dare? Are they laughing at me right now? Oh god.

24. Do you think Alexandra really is pregnant with twins? Because she lies all the time. But I'm sure she's telling the truth this time. In fact I know she's lying but I'm going to tell anyone because it is the gossip of the year.

25. Do you think they are real drugs in his bag? They smell like Surf. Does cocaine smell like Surf? Is he really that much of a bad ass? I really fancy him. 

26. What if I loose all my mates over the summer holidays because Mum is making me go to my Nan's for a whole week? 

27. If I tell him I fancy him in his year book he might not see it and I can just blame that for him not texting me, can't I? Yeah let me do that, in my best glitter gel pens. True. Love. 

28. Is it wrong that I don't think fingering sounds nice? What is wrong with me? Maybe I am a lesbian? 

29. Why doesn't he know that I fancy him? Oh wait, he's just asked me to ask out my best mate for him. How will I ever get over this heart break?  **that actually happened to me just so you know**

& finally

30. When will life stop becoming so bloody confusing?

When you discover wine, coffee and social smoking babes. Trust.

LL 

x