Romantic Misadventures presents: Tales of 'First Dates'

Spending the evening with a bunch of people willing to bare their embarrassing and hilarious stories of their first dates sounded like a perfect night for me, so that is exactly what I did last night.

I obviously spent 20 minutes wondering around London lost as I do, but I did find Fleet Street and was quite excited to be milling around with all of the hacks.

I have just finished reading ‘The Diaries of a Fleet Street Fox’ by Susie Boniface. She came and gave a talk while I was studying at Brighton Journalist Works, so even though I was lost and stressed, in some weird way it felt kind of reassuring to know she had walked around the same streets. We were hacks together, ok so I can’t really call myself that yet. I am a hack in training.

After retracing my steps back to Farringdon Station, I re-read the directions. ‘Turn right out of the station.’ Ah the turn right was not the right that was straight out of the station but right and then right again.....riiiggghhhttt.

Eventually I found where I needed to be, it used to be a church which I found quite ironic as there was sure to be swearing and stories of an intimate nature (sex tales, lots of sex tales). Mind you the people taking to the stage knew they would be judged- in a nice way, well the audience would be nice but I couldn’t speak for the Almighty.

There were round tables with candles dotted around the room and I was filled with trepidation. Was this going to be a night full of couples and I would be sat sticking out like a sore thumb?

I found a seat at the back and ate my daily Crunchie, everyone has habits and a daily Crunchie is one of mine.

An artistic looking man came and sat next to me, we had a bit of a chat but I had food all in my teeth so I kept my mouth tight when I spoke and looked like I had some kind of problem.

I grabbed a glass of wine at the bar and was delighted to only be asked for £3.00, in London I expect everything to be about £10 so it was a turn up for the books and my purse.

I returned to my seat, swilled some wine around my mouth and asked the artist if he had been to one of these shows before because I didn’t want him to think I was a snooty bitch from down South who didn’t associate myself with Londoners.

He explained he has been to one a couple of weeks previously, he was a stand-up comic and was going to tell a story in the open mic section of the evening here. Satisfied that I had made him think more of me than just being a rude bitch, I returned to looking at my phone.

The first story was by Kit Harrington-no wait, he is that tasty looking dish from Game of Thrones or some similar program bare with- just need to Google....

Ah, Kit Lovelace. Think about that name for a moment....for me it conjures up an image of a voluptuous woman similar to Dita Von Teese, so when a very tall slender man stood up and started speaking without a feather boa in sight, I was taken aback and kept looking around for a Dita look-a-like.

Once I had got over my initial shock, I realised I had missed the beginning of his story. I focused and got the gist of it- a very, very drunk woman passing out. I was literally so distracted and annoyed at myself for missing the first part of his story that I nearly asked him if he could repeat it.

He left the stage and I made sure that I was concentrating fully, I am glad I did as the next story involved nuns, a Travelodge and period sex. I won’t go into it as I am sure you can dive into your own imagination, but the woman telling the story was very funny and drunk. Drunk on her first date I mean, not on stage, though she could have been. I would have had to have been to tell a story such as hers but it was bloody brilliant.

The next story was my favourite, the guy set the scene of being a 15-year-old boy, it was quite easy to imagine myself as a boy. When I was younger I used to believe that girls grew up to be boys and boys grew up to be girls, I was a very liberal six-year-old.

I digress. So, this boy had a foreign exchange student stay with him and his parents for a week and he fell in love with her as soon as she walked off the bus. They spent the week together and on the final night they kissed, awww. He gave her his email address and off she went back to Germany. (I think it was Germany, the wine had taken hold by that point in the night so my memory is a little fuzzy.)

A month after she left he got a email from Monica with a K, which is how she spelt her name- I imagine it is something like this...Kmonica.

For 7 months they emailed, he sent her poems, they spoke about their feelings, they spoke about sex, then one day she said she had got some money for her birthday and she wanted to visit him. She said to him in her email: ‘I don’t want to leave the hotel room.’ A girl saying that to a guy at any age is going to get him hot under the collar, but he was fifteen so he was soooooooo excited.

He arrange to meet her at her hotel, when he got there the receptionist sent him up to the room. He knocked on the door, no answer. He heard the shower running and tried the door, it was open.

There were German magazines and clothes thrown all over the room, he sat on the bed and waited for her to get out of the shower. Then thinking that was creepy, he knocked on the bathroom door to tell her he was there.

The shower was turned off, he heard sniggering then 15 of his friends fell out of the bathroom laughing at him.
He said to them: ‘Guys you have got to go, Kmonica is coming!’

Bless him.

I was in stitches, poor guy had been duped for 7 months by his friends, and to rub further salt in the wound they printed off every email exchange from all of those months. Poems, sex chats, romantic feelings. I didn’t get the chance to ask if he was still friends with any of them now.

There was another guy who told us about a girl chewing his face off and making him bleed, which was amusing, but then came the best part- the open mic part.

Anyone in the audience was allowed to tell their first date/ romantic misadventure story.

There were a few contenders, including the artistic looking comedian who I was sat next to. He told a sweet story about a girl and some cherries, but the best one was by a girl who sounded and sort of looked like Rebel Wilson.

Her story was about when she was house sitting, she invited a guy over but he became paranoid she was going to film them having sex and put it on a porn site. The full extent of the story is far too X-rated for here unfortunately, but she made me proper belly laugh and I could have listened to her all night.

But like all good things, they have to come to an end. I cannot wait to go and have another adventure with this group of people, luckily for me SPARK are holding another event on 8th February in Hackney down the road from where I work.

The theme is ‘Boldness.’

Maybe I could be bold and join in with the open mic section, then again maybe I will just sit at the back eating my Crunchie.

http://stories.co.uk/

(Picture is from @kitlovelace)

Valentine's day gifts for gym bunnies

Obviously now I am working at a fitness magazine I am a total fitness freak...ok, slight exaggeration but I do always walk up and down the tube escalators now, however I do like a good bit of fitness gear.

I have looked for the best gadgets and fitness things on the internet and come up with my top 3 valentines presents for gym bunnies.

I know, you’re thinking it’s too early right? Check your calendar people, it is just over two weeks away- you are welcome for the reminder.

I only know when it is as I am running a half marathon that day, stop laughing, I am and I am also going to have all of this stuff with me. Actually, maybe not the last one...

Axent Wear Cat Ear Headphones

These may have been around for a while but they still make me puuurrrr.

They have cat ear shaped external speakers, 40 mm driver with 20 Hz to 20KHz frequency response, Removable 3.5 mm jack with mic and USB charger included, bright LED lights, and over-the-ear cushioned bits. I don’t even know what half of that means, but I want them so bad, I’m so excited right now just looking at them.

After much searching I found them online http://www.brookstone.com/axent-wear-cat-ear-headphones/990635p.html?bkeid=partner|vendor|axentwear|catearheadhonesbuybutton for $129.99.

I have been unable to locate them in the UK so if you find them email me STRAIGHT AWAY!

UP MOVE

This unassuming bit of kit is actually an activity tracker, a sleep tracker, food logger and smart coach.

The features on this little one are almost never ending, it will encourage you to get up and move- just as it says on the tin.

It comes in a variety of different colours, including my favourite- yellow!

You don’t even have to wear it on your wrist, it comes with a variety of different clips so you can wear it pretty much anywhere- oi! Keep it clean.

Think it couldn’t get any better? It is just £39.99 https://jawbone.com/store/buy/upmove

Gym bunny mug

Well this is awkward, while searching for a gym bunny t-shirt I kept on seeing t-shirts with ‘Gym Bunny’ and loads of men next to it.

I then clapped my eyes on this mug which has a definition of a gym bunny:

‘Noun – A gay man who spends unlimited hours in the gym to appeal to other gay men.’

Well that is news to me. All I wanted was a cute t-shirt with a picture of a bunny on it, and now I have found out what the internet’s version of a gym bunny is.

I’m so confused, am I the only person who didn’t know this?

I need to go and do some more research.

If you want the mug it is £13.05 http://www.zazzle.co.uk/gym+bunny+gifts

Super Doopa Bites

I picked up both the banana and orange flavour superbites when I was in ASDA when I was ‘trying to be good’ which was really me just saying to myself: ‘No you can’t possibly eat another chocolate bar as that will be three today and it is only 11am.’

These superfood truffles jumped out at me while I was staring at the nuts and boredom was starting to take over.

Chocolate orange is one of my favourite flavours and I am always trying to find chocolate banana flavoured products and had no luck until now. (Unless you count mixing banana and chocolate Nesquik together to make a cocoa banana milkshake.)

The Good 4 You bites are made with seeds and fruit but I enjoyed them as much as I do when I am hovering up a chocolate bar, they made me feel like I was still being indulgent and I didn’t have to worry about the calories.

My product idea for them next is to design a box of bigger superfood truffles with more flavours- lemon and cocoa, raspberry and cocoa, strawberry and cocoa, mint and cocoa, maybe even chilli and cocoa.

That would be Good 4 me.

One of 'those days'.

Yesterday I felt like this:

I just wasn't feeling it from the get go. Getting up at 6am to get a train to London was not how I wanted to spend my morning. I was just a real grump, well I was in the morning, in the afternoon I wanted to cry at everything.

I couldn't write a sentence and nearly cried, a nice text nearly made me cry, I shouted 'TAMPONS' in Sainsbury's and nearly cried.

Ah yes, about that....I had to go into a shop I was not familiar with and search for tampons. Any woman who has had to do the search for tampons in a new shop will know my pain.

I couldn't find them so I had to ask, I'm not embarrassed about asking for them, but I was in a tiny shop crammed full of stroppy Londoners who looked like they wanted to stamp on me in my search because I kept walking round and round aimlessly.

I walked up to a woman and asked her quietly where the tampons were, she looked at me and scrunched up her face 'What?'

Me: 'Tampons, do you have them or are they behind the counter?'

Woman: 'I don't know what you are talking about?'

Me: 'TAMPONS, TAMPONS! DO YOU HAVE ANY TAMPONS?!'

She pointed to some baby wipes and I considered miming what I was after, it worked in Spain when I mimed shaving my legs to ask for razors but after careful consideration I decided miming tampons was not the best idea and left the shop.

Thankfully my tampon journey came to an end when I found a Superdrug, I hugged the box tightly and vowed to never run out again.

I got to my hostel and was excited when I found my room because it was the best one yet. Spacious, it even has a desk and I am on the bottom bunk! No more clambering up and down stairs- for this week anyway.

I have also found the best self contained shower and toilet cubicle, I have claimed it as my own. The other bathrooms have a row of toilets and a row of shower cubicles so this is pure luxury!

I am off now to spend some time in my lovely bed oh, and to cuddle my tampons. Night.

Stripping at Nudie Snacks

The people at Nudie snacks like stripping, stripping their products bare- why what were you thinking?

Their premium coconut chips have nothing artificial, no preservatives and they are never fried. You can snack away guilt free.

There are three flavours to choose from plain coconut (which are anything but plain, they just have the pure taste of coconut which is delicious), sweet Thai chilli which have a bit of a kick but the underlying coconut flavour makes sure it is not too much and my favourite salt and vinegar.

When I first tried them, my taste buds and brain were totally discombobulated (fantastic word, needs to be used more in my opinion.) I was all over the place because they were savoury and tasted just like salt and vinegar crisps should, then the sweet flavour of the coconut came through and it took me a while to unscramble my brain.

When I did, I couldn’t get enough of them. I have literally eaten them every day.

Give them a try yourself.

Ocado.com 99p for 35g packet.

www.nudiesnacks.co.uk

Bunk bed bugger

Climbing in and out of a bunk bed at 26 years old is harder than you might think, I'm not a flexible as I once was and then there is the height issue.

When I was ten I had a full on panic attack at school in front of my whole year group when I got stuck on a climbing apparatus in gym class.

I cried and refused to climb back down the slanted bench 2 inches away from me. I am not exaggerating, if any of my classmates are reading this I guarantee they will still snigger at the memory.

Still, it could be worse. At least I am not on the top bunk bed, there are three on top of each other so don't laugh thinking I am on the bottom bunk. I am on the middle one as I said yesterday in case you forgot. But being dedicated readers I imagine you would already know this information.

In the Evening Standard today I read that laughing can burn as many calories as a walk. Apparently researcher Dr Helen Pilcher discovered howling laughter can burn as many as 120 calories an hour which is similar to a moderate walking pace. Well that is a perfect excuse to get myself out to a comedy club for the evening then, I wonder if howling laughter would also counteract the bottle of wine I would consume?

Also in the same paper, a report on air pollution has revealed London has hit record levels. Yesterdays pollution was at 10/10 in Upper Thames Street, a level which apparently has only been recorded three times in the past two years. It advises to reduce physical activity, particularly outdoors. As if I needed another excuse to not move my arse off the sofa in my hostel common room.

Though my half marathon is looming, so I did manage to get out for a light jog for about ten minutes. What?! I wasn't allowed to do much more according to the paper!

I did discover a nice little jog route near my work at lunch time which I am going to try out tomorrow. I discovered that Regent's Canal is just a couple of minutes walk away from my office and went for a little gander.

I kept close to the wall though as I have a fear of falling into canals, I don't know why but I think I wouldn't be able to get back out and I would drown. I do have the weirdest fears.

Which includes this metal man...

He scares the hell out of me everyday, I think he comes alive at night and patrols the corridors for naughty people.

Well, I had better be off as I have a ton of work to do before tomorrow, and I don't want him chasing me up the stairs if it gets too late.

Bye for now from smoggy London!

Female columnist required

I applied for a job today as a female columnist writing about the perils of relationships.

Perfect I thought, this job has my name written all over it.

So I fired off my application, this is it exactly as I emailed it...

Put two men, six kids and one woman in one house, what do you get? Complete and utter chaos.

That was my life up until a week ago when I left them all behind to follow my dream to become a journalist in London.

I will explain a few things first before you think I am the most selfish mother and partner on the planet.

Only one of the six children is mine by blood, three of the children are my boyfriends and the last two belong to my boyfriend’s housemate who is an incurable romantic, he needs training though as he thinks oven chips can be cooked in the microwave and don’t get me started on the toilet.

My relationship is pretty fresh at four months old, but my boyfriend knows me inside out (he really does, don’t roll your eyes), so far we have only had one argument...over chocolate.

There is one thing a man should never come between – a woman and her chocolate. There was nearly blood spilt.

Our other tribulation was my decision to abandon him and move to London for the next three months.

My daughter is with her dad during the week and I have her at weekends. As I will be commuting back home for the weekends, my decision doesn’t affect her too much.

My boyfriend is brilliant and says he supports me but I do find myself questioning him, especially after a glass of wine or two.

Am I doing the right thing?

Have I considered his feelings enough?

Is our relationship strong enough to survive?

And the most important...

Will I bump into Johnny Depp?

My star sign in today’s paper said to trust my instincts as exciting times are ahead. I hope whoever wrote that is not giving me false hope.



Written by Rebecca Frew, blogger at sym-ple1.blogspot.com

Here are a few links to my blogs:

http://sym-ple1.blogspot.com/2015/11/10-things-i-have-learnt-living-with-two.html

http://sym-ple1.blogspot.com/2015/12/five-things-i-learnt-looking-after-3.html

http://sym-ple1.blogspot.com/2016/01/london-life-week-end.html


Please consider me for the position of your new female columnist.

Thank you,

Rebecca Frew

SYM-ple (Single Yummy Mummy- I know, I named my blog in a moment of madness and now I can't change it. I will have to think of another word for the S now....Sexy Yummy Mummy, no I'm not sure about that either.

I will work on it and just to be clear, we don't all live on a caravan site (what with having six kids in all), we only have all six every other weekend and we live in a lovely 4 bedroom semi-detached house in Angmering.

I like to think of myself of the Victoria Beckham of Sussex, just without the money or the fashion sense- though I do wear heels all of the time and a lot of black.

I received an email back a few hours later:

Hi Bex,

Thank you very much for applying - unfortunately I have decided to chose someone else, although your writing is good. We needed a childless writer on the dating scene!

I will keep you in mind for future features.


I felt like I had been punched in the stomach.

A childless writer? I thought the days of wanting to be Carrie Bradshaw were over because it is so outdated.

I'm disappointed that because I have a child it seems I am irrelevant in the dating scene, does it make me uncool and unreadable having a child or six?

Even Bridget Jones, writer, inspiration, and pillar of strength for women everywhere now has a child.

I understand they want some young hip girl going out into the dating world to write about as many disasters as she can, but what about the real relationships?

Do people not want to know what happens after the happy ending?

What about writing and reading about real life?

What about the perils of being in a relationship wit kids and work and stress and money and LIFE.

Or am I just too old and irrelevant for people to care?

Are childless writers more exciting and vibrant than as seemingly dowdy mothers?

My head hurts, I'm going to bed and it's not even 9pm. Maybe that says it all....

Half marathon virgin D Day 14.2.16

In a moment of madness today I signed up for a half marathon, which is taking place in a month. (The above is obviously not me, I am just using her as someone to aspire to.)

The run is on Valentines day, today is the bloody 19th January. Insane I know but I think I can do it, I’m not the most unfit person in the world.

I can run for about 20 minutes before collapsing, but seeing the 13.1 miles in writing has scared me a bit.

I’m not totally sure how far one mile is, but I am sure everything will be just fine. It will have to be because it’s in a month.

Why did I do it? I was researching about marathons today at work and thought hmmm I could do that. After slapping myself back down to earth I signed up to a half marathon before I had knew what I had done. Bugger.

According to Running competitor it is a manageable challenge. On their website it says...ask yourself: “Why am I doing this?”

I am doing this because I didn’t really think about it, and jumped in feet first like I do with everything.

When got back to my hostel, I put on my running gear and eagerly jogged out the door- my bum jogging along at a different speed behind me.

I decided that I wouldn’t push myself too hard as I haven’t run in a while, so I did a light jog down the parade of shops humming to myself as I didn’t have any music.

My lungs burnt and I realised how stupid my decision was to sign up to a half marathon, but I won’t give up even if I have to crawl to the finish line.

I have looked at the route online at Worthing Half and it is all familiar so hopefully when I run it on the day it won’t feel like too much effort as I will know what is around the corner.

On The Sun online the other day, I saw a run in Glasgow that has wine rest stops instead of water ones.

Hopefully I can encourage my friends and boyfriend to come and support me by meeting me at various points for my own wine pit stops.

I did have a slight pit stop of my own this evening because I was hungry and I just happened to have the Mc Donald’s quarter pounder with cheese and chips for £1.99 coupon down my sports bra.

I know, I am hanging my head in shame. Day 1 of half marathon training done.

#thisgirlcan

Oblivious

Victoria tube station users were not impressed with me this morning, nor I with them.

After a two and a half hour train journey from Angmering to London Victoria, the mood on the train was spiky.

Workers phoned their offices one after the other to apologise for being late due to a signalling problem, but there is a silver lining...

Southern rail have a scheme in place of delay, don't pay. All I have to do is fill in a form to get my £30.80 back, cheers.

I digress, so this morning I had my suitcase with me. It is small enough to be classed as hand luggage on a plane, but large enough fir people to see...so you would think.

The amount of people that kicked, tripped and nearly fell flat on their faces because of my suitcase was hilarious.

I did feel a bit bad, but after being glared at for the millionth time, I just laughted. Should have gone to Specsavers.

I jogged the now familiar path to work this morning excited to get back to what I love, writing.

The day went by without a blip but on my way back to my hostel Palmers Lodge, I started to have mixed feelings.

I felt like I was walking back to a familiar place, somewhere that would look after me for the week. Then doubt threw a cloak over me and as happy as I am to be here, I have a yearning to be home.

Three months is a long time, I'm one week in and there is still a long stretch ahead.

I could sit here for the next 11 weeks and question myself and the decisions I have made but ultimately I know this is the right thing I am doing. I just hope everyone else does.

Gloom aside, I have just discovered there is a vending machine next to the tea and coffee. I stayed her all of last week and I have only just noticed, I must add be more observant to my to do list.

I have checked out my room, I am in a 12 bed dorm this time instead of and 8. There is stuff everywhere in the room, even I am shocked at the mess.

I am on the middle bunk of three, I keep having irrational thoughts that the top bunk os going to come down on me in the night. I hope it doesn't as I have just had a four course meal.

To start: A packet of Walkers finest salt and vinegar.

Course 2: Ham, cheese and pickle sandwich from M & S.

Course 3: Chocolate croissant.

Course 4: Chocolate chunk shortbread slice.

I feel sick, after eating nothing all day stuffing my face was a bad idea. Everything hurts, I need a lay down.

(I still can't upload pictures....insert me laying down on my bed with my feet holding the top bunk up.)

London life week end

I knew smoking was bad for me, now i might have a reason to quit..

'Can I pinch a cigarette off you?' A young bloke asked me this morning, I almost shouted at him

'Are you aware how expensive it is to smoke?!'

But seeing as I only smoke a couple a day and I had the packet in my hand, I handed one over. With a grimace.

He is not the first person to ask either, almost every time I have had my daily vice, someone wants a cigarette.

Cigarettes are not only bad for me in the usual toxic way, but they are also bad for my stress levels. I'm funding everyone else's habit like a mug.

Walking to work in London over this past week has been an interesting experience.

There is a constant stream of horns like an orchestra, once one starts they all have a go. Then the sirens start, whining, wizzing and honking. Where I live in little old Worthing is as quiet as a mouse compared to here.

I have also noticed that I seem to be the only person in London who waits at the traffic lights until the little green man makes his appearance.

Everyone else is off and I'm left standing on the pavement knowing if I tried to run across, I would get my dream of slim- but only because I would have been flattened by a ten tonne HGV.

The weather has snapped from mild to frigging freezing. I own about two jumpers both of which are at home and I don't own a hat or scarf, so I am quite blue first thing in the morning and on my journey back to my hostel.

Londoners all seem to be wearing beanies, so maybe I will get one of those to blend in. Though, I'd probably stick out like a sore thumb.

I have just realised I have not stepped into a bar once or touched a drop of wine this week, what is going on in the world?! Must be time for a bottle tonight them!

It's Friday and I am now on the train home to Worthing.

I'm looking forward to seeing my daughter, my boyfriend and his three kids. I do have a problem though, I got on the wrong end of the train and am potentially on the way to Eastbourne. I'd better sign off for now!

Back for more London life next week!

(Insert picture of me looking frantic.)

Willing in London

As I have been stomping around London and getting lost the majority if the time, I decided to wear my trainers this morning -insert Julia Roberts voice from pretty woman here... 'Big mistake, Huge!'

I have blisters to rival a marathon runners, and winced throughout the day whenever I had to put one foot in front of the other. Back to my trusty heels tomorrow then.

I am trying a diet called VB6, basically it is a vegan thing again but you eat vegan all day until 6pm, then eat whatever you like.

Chicken, cheese, rabbit, (my rabbit Stew will be going in one if he doesn't start to become more friendly.) It's pretty easy to do during the week but at the weekends I will be pigging out on whatever I want. Mmmm bacon.

It's a shame I can't afford to go to the theatre every night, there are posters all around the tube stations full of things I would like to see. It's like torture!

I am saving money though, I got a free dinner to take to my hostel from work today but as I walked down the street I realised I had no cutlery to use.

My hostel doesn’t have a kitchen, so I walked down the road willing for a spoon to appear. I considered using two tea stirrers as chopsticks but didn’t want to put off my fellow hostellers.

Down the road I continued, still willing for a spoon, I don’t know why I was thinking spoon instead of fork, but I was. Then, a glimmer of white plastic caught my eye...my willing had worked!

In a shop I saw them glimmer at me, I ran in, hugged them close to my chest and walked to the tube with glee.

I ate my dinner cold as there is no microwave, but turns out Spanish meatballs are surprisingly nice cold. I didn't care, I had my spoons and I was happy.

Why when I will Johnny Depp to appear, it doesn’t work?

Hmm maybe if I start extreme willing....
JOHNNY DEPP, JOHNNY DEPP, JOHNNY DEPP...

(Insert picture of Johnny Depp here.)

Zipping in London

This morning I had an unexpected wake-up at 5am.

It is dark at 5am, no one should be awake at that time unless they are going on an all inclusive holiday to a Caribbean island.

One of my lovely roommates decided to start banging around and then came the zipping.

Un-zip, re-zip, un-zip, re-zip, un-zip, re-zip, I'm surprised her suitcase didn't break at the amount she attacked it.

Then she decided that she needed the light on, then off, then on, she must have had OCD, the amount of times she messed around with the switch.

I wanted to say something, but I was worried my suitcase might get trashed, or zipped to death.

Not that I am saying the people in my room are undesirables, but I would like my clothes to stay in my case if at all possible and in tact.

The women's bathroom situation a bit of a curfuffle. It is like a merry go round as there are only 2 mirrors above the sink in the shower room.

If you move from your spot by the sink to grab something like toilet paper (if like me you have disastrous eyebrows that need re-doing at least five times before they resemble anything that look like eyebrows), you will be at the back until someone else makes the fatal mistake to move.

I had my first sardine tube experience this morning. Holding onto a bar that is over your head for 20 minutes is no easy feat, let me tell you.

I got a seat two stops before mine but my aching feet thanked me for those few minutes rest bite.

After work I went to see The Woman in Black. I have wanted to see it for years, but being a cheapskate I didn't want to pay the top price and booked a seat at the top of the theatre and prayed I would be able to see.

To my utter amazement when I asked where my seat was, the steward showed me to the second row.

I questioned her and she pointed to the red letters on my ticket which said, 'stalls C11'. There was one row in front of me and I hugged my coat around me hoping I wouldn't be too scared.

I met a lovely woman who sat next to me with her husband, we chatted about plays, restaurants, London, kids and in the interval she even offered me some malteasers.

Now there is a real woman, sharing chocolate. Obviously I said I couldn't have any as I work at a fitness magazine now and am on a health kick. I silently kicked myself for real when the play came back on.

Back to hostel, the lights were out in my room so I snuck into bed without brushing my teeth so as not to wake anyone.

I'm such a good roommate, if reading this anyone owns a nice mansion nearby I would be quiet as a mouse and can pay £60 per week email me at inmydreams@hotmail.com

(Inset picture of dream mansion with underground swimming pool and Ferrari in the drive.)

London life 2

Day 2

This ghost of last night followed me around this morning, the ghost of getting lost.

I got up for the first day of my internship jolly and spritely, well, tired but excited I suppose are better words.

I caught the tube to my destination Goodge Street and decided to start the day with a bit of exercise to set me up for the day.

For those of you not familiar with the station, it has 137 stairs. I didn't think that sounded a lot, but after 30 steps my thighs burnt with a fire so fierce I didn't think I would make it to the outside world again.

Red faced I emerged onto a busy London street with just a street name for the office I needed to be at.

I saw on the map app on my phone it was near the BT Tower, don't be deceived by the 'tower' part as it is incredibly difficult to spot on foot with blurry vision from lack of oxygen.

I walked around for a good 45minutes before locating the street I wanted, I checked my emails to see the name of the building I needed to be at when I saw the office was in Hackney.

Hackney is nowhere bloody near the stair loving Goodge Street, so I ran/tottered in my boots back to the station to pant at a guard and ask him where the heck I needed to go.

Thankfully he helped me instead of calling the police to collect a mad woman, and I made it to work with four minutes to spare.

My day was spent learning the ins and outs of the office and magazine and after initially coming across as a bit slow (I asked the same question about picture resizing at least five times), I think they approve of me.

Obviously working at a fitness magazine has made me more aware of what I am eating, but as it was day one I decided to ignore my shrieking inner diet guru and go to Mc Donald's instead.

I'm staying in Swiss Cottage, or should I say swish cottage?! The Mc Donald's here has tablets and table service.

This place is bloody amazing.

(No don't be ridiculous, of course I haven't figured out how to put pictures on here.)

London Newbie

Within 2 minutes of walking out of London Victoria station I watched someone get arrested, I pulled my coat around me as a security blanket and took a see breath. This place is no Worthing, where the most thrilling thing to happen this week was...erm...nothing.

I tried to stride confidently into the station to look like 'one of them' (a Londoner), but the edge was taken off when I saw someone trip up a flight of stairs, and an old man laughing to himself. I don't think I will have to hide any of my quirks here.

I got to the right tube station and out of it like a pro, I also then got lost- like a pro.

Maps and navigation are not my strong point, I hated orienteering at school so finding my way around London was not going to be as easy as I had first thought.

I took what I thought was the correct path down a long road, a long road full of giant mansions. I thought I had hit the jackpot and may even have a chance of spotting Johnny Depp. What a fool.

I walked for 15 minutes following the vague directions I had and ended up at regents park. My accommodation said nothing about having to camp, so I Googled where I was and obviously I had gone in the total opposite direction.

I huffed my way back to the tube station, thankfully the rain held off and when I spotted a mattress down a side street, guessed I was on the right track.

Sure enough I was and my impressive looking hostel was on my right. I would prefer to call it a hotel as before I left my boyfriend asked me if I had seen the film Hostel. Thanks, I will be sleeping with my tweezers under my bunk bed tonight.

Don't gasp in horror at the thought of bunk beds, they are actually alright. I am on the top bunk of two. There are three tier bunk beds and as I don't like heights, I am grateful I am not on one of those.

There is a bar here open until midnight but I decided to go out and explore instead.

It was half ten at night so I just wanted a quick peek before hitting the hay. Much to my delight, there is a Mc Donald's two minutes walk away and even an ice cream place, which is open until midnight. Perfect.

I've found a cinema, gym, library, copious amounts of shops and a couple of pubs. I think I'm going to like it here.

There is even free tea and coffee in the lounge which is brimming with people from all over the world.

I'm too tired to make conversation, so it is bed time for me. I hope I don't keep my roommates awake with my snoring, else I might not make any friends.

Night, night

From LN

(London Newbie)

I apologise for the lack of pictures, I have the mattress picture and room pictures but nothing will upload to my blog and I am too tired and simple to figure it out right now.)

Mums night out (MNO)

I feel like a teenager again, giddy and excited at the prospect of putting on my glittery heels (that I bought two years ago and have never worn), and putting my fat pants on so I can get into my jeans and go on my first night out in a very long time.

I did consider wearing a dress but decided in January it would not be practical and I would freeze to death, so I did the sniff test on my jeans that were on the floor at 8am this morning and they smelt clean so I didn't put any washing on and went about my day.

At 7pm I turned the jeans I had sniffed this morning inside themselves as they were inside out, to discover melted white chocolate all over them. I remembered Scarlett having said white chocolate five days ago and it going all over us both and cursed myself for being lazy earlier today by not putting the washing on.

Contemplated wearing a dress again as my other jeans were all in the wash pile (ok my one other pair), but that would have meant having to have another bath to shave my legs and more importantly the risk of hypothermia is too high.

I sniff tested the jeans on floor/ wash pile that I have been wearing for the past four days, and I didn't crinkle up my nose so approved them for MNO.

I also double checked the mirror for food stains on them and sent my daughter to bed to prevent any accidents.

Panic number two came when I looked in my wardrobe and saw I had nothing to wear over my bra. I'm not being dramatic, my wardrobe consists of black strappy tops and a blue one on the floor.

So I nearly cried and cancelled MNO, but sucked it up, sucked in my belly while praising the inventor of my fat pants (I think the are Gok Wan ones so thanks Gok), put on a black strappy top, green shirt, drank a glass of wine and had a cigarette. Then listened to the rain and drank more wine.

Panic number three came when I looked at diminishing bank account and worked out I could buy a bottle of wine and aim make it last all night, or text my friend and beg her for a loan- the one who is coming without a child.

Then I shouted up the stairs at Scarlett to be quiet, her reply was: 'Where are you going? I want to come.' I then had a ten minute shout up the stairs conversation about why she couldn't come.

I had a debate with myself about putting red lipstick on because I don't want to look like I am trying 'too hard'. I'm nearly ten years older than the 18-year-olds I will encounter tonight and don't want to look like mutton dressed as lamb.

I am now sat here, exhausted and sweating for my MNI. I'm glad it's only once in a while, I couldn't do this very often. Blimey, I must be getting old, where is the wine?

(Too much?)

Going bananas

On a busy weekend at my boyfriends house there can be three adults and six children running around. 

In a bid to calm then down (after deciding bribing hem to be quiet with sweets was not the best thing to do when I was doing it up to ten times a day), I bough some fruit for us all.

The weekend went by and the fruit stood in the bowl where I had put it on Friday. 

I looked at the bananas and decided to get into baking mode and make banana bread the next weekend. 

It was a success and it didn't even have time to cool down before it was demolished, I have also concluded that the two mashed bananas that I used must equate to 1 of our 5 a day in each slice. Let me believe it, please!

To use the brown bananas in your fruit bowl and get something healthy down their necks, the recipe is below. 

Ingredients:

140g butters softened, plus extra for the tin
140g caster sugar
2 large eggs, beaten
140g self-raising flour
1 tsp baking powder
Baking powder
2 very ripe bananas mashed
50g icing sugar
handful dried banana chips, for decoration

(Photo is not mine as it was demolished before I had a chance to take a picture. This picture is from http://www.bbcgoodfood.com/recipes/2249656/brilliant-banana-loaf as is the recipe, obviously mine looked exactly the same.)


1. Heat oven to 180C/160C fan/gas 4. Butter a 2lb loaf tin and line the base and sides with baking parchment.

2.
Cream the butter and sugar until light and fluffy, then slowly add the eggs with a little flour. Fold in the remaining flour, baking powder and bananas. Pour into the tin and bake for about 30 mins until a skewer comes out clean. Cool in the tin for 10 mins, then remove to a wire rack.

3.
Mix the icing sugar with 2-3 tsp water to make a runny icing. Drizzle the icing across the top of the cake and decorate with banana chips.

Days 2 and 3 in Jamaica

8am 22nd December 2015 Holiday Inn Montego Bay (AKA heaven).

The first thing I did this morning was put the air con on. I chuckled as I thought of all of my friends back home freezing in typical English December weather.

I threw on my clothes to get breakfast, everyone knows breakfast is the most important meal of the day, so I was looking forward to getting my face into the all-I-could-eat- buffet.

It did not disappoint, there was food everywhere!

(The food room! I didn't want to look like a weirdo taking loads of pictures of the food so this is basically a picture of a room. But believe me, it was full of food.)

From croissants, to omelettes, cereal, sausages, any type of egg you wanted, it was never ending.

Scarlett and I went for around the resort after filling our bellies to the brim. I cannot even tell you how beautiful it was- so here is a picture instead.

All of my troubles melted away as I walked barefoot in the golden sand, until I saw the gym.

There were people on the running machines and I looked down at my bloated belly and decided to sit by the pool and rub my food baby with joy.

I grabbed myself a pina colada and did what I do best....nothing.

Day 3

Rule Number one when going to a hot country...Do not get burnt on the first day...

Rule number two when going to a hot country...Do not wear massive sunglasses as the rest of your face will be red apart from your eyes which will look like you have been wearing a ski mask.

(No picture available for obvious reasons.)

My brother arrives today with his fiancée so I am excited to see him later, but first I have a busy day ahead of me playing in the pool and trying to get rid of the sunglass marks on my face.

There is food available here pretty much 24/7. For lunch at 11am me and Scarlett had burger and chips while some guy did yoga in front of us. More fool him, I had a plan to do 30 squats every day while on holiday as part of my fitness regime, so I enjoyed my burger knowing I would be burning off five calories later in the day.

It is a good job it is Christmas in a couple of days as I am a contender for Rudolf this year. My nose is burnt and crispy.

(This picture does not do my burntness justice)

I was just pondering about what else to write as I don't seem to be doing much this holiday apart from lazing around, when Scarlett said she felt sick.

I was in the bath at the time and like a good parent, didn't believe her. She padded into the room, threw up all over the floor and said: 'See, told you I felt sick.'

Wow the kid can projectile vomit on cue.

I had a feeling my relaxing holiday was about to come to an end.

Angry chocolate cheesecake

Chocolate cheesecake is my absolute favourite dessert.

If I could take three things on a desert island with me two out of the three things would be chocolate cheesecake (the other would be wine).

It may sound a bit obvious to most people, but the main ingredient in a chocolate cheesecake is chocolate. Unfortunately my partner did not think about this fact when I went to the shop for the rest of the ingredients as I already had the chocolate at home.

I came home ready and excited to start making it, as the sooner it was made, the sooner I could eat it.

I had saved a big bar of Milka chocolate that I had bought a few days previously at the airport, so I could make a delicious Milka chocolate cheesecake.

I don't care what anyone says, airport Milka chocolate is different to what you find in regular shops. It is thicker, and better. Fact.

So when I came home and my boyfriend told me he, his brother and his son had eaten it, I laughed and told him to hand it over.

After five minutes of him saying 'No, seriously, we ate it.' I stormed out of the house and had a hissy fit all of the way to the supermarket to buy more chocolate that would not taste anywhere near as good.

I sat in the car park and wondered if I had over reacted, and quickly decided I hadn't. No man should come between a woman and her chocolate.

When I got home I refused to talk to him and smashed the biscuits up for my cheesecake base. It was very satisfying.

If you would like to make your own angry chocolate cheesecake I have put the ingredients and instructions below.

It actually turned out surprisingly well, though it took more than an hour in the freezer for my anger to chill.

Sorry, I don't have a picture of the full cheesecake, I angry ate.


Ingredients
Serves: 6 (Or one)
150g (5 oz) digestive biscuits
45g (1 1/2 oz) butter
110g (4 oz) caster sugar, divided
120ml whipping cream
150g (5 oz) dark chocolate, melted and cooled
2 tablespoons cocoa powder mixed with a little hot water
1 (200g) tub cream cheese

Instructions
Prep:2hr › Ready in:2hr

1.Crush the digestive biscuits (angrily), and mix with the melted butter and 1 tablespoon of the caster sugar. Press into a 18cm (7 in) cake tin and refrigerate.

2.Whip cream until soft peak stage- also a good stress reliever. Add cooled melted chocolate, then the cocoa powder mix. Blend well and set aside.

3.Beat the cream cheese and remaining sugar together. Fold in cream/chocolate mixture and mix thoroughly.

4.Spread into tin on top of crushed biscuits. Freeze for one hour.

5.Refrigerate for about 30 minutes, then serve

Recipe from http://allrecipes.co.uk/recipe/85/no-bake-chocolate-cheesecake.aspx

Spa bliss

Being at spa automatically made my body stand to attention and demand that I live a healthier more active lifestyle.

I silenced it last night by going out to a pub down the road for a pie and a pint (of wine), and 2 croissants this morning for breakfast- there is always tomorrow.

My partner and I have been staying at The Felbridge hotel and spa in East Grinstead and it is just pure, utter, bliss.

I have never felt so relaxed and rejuvenated, even though my stomach is groaning at the amount of food I have eaten.

I was proud that I went to the cinema this afternoon in Crawley and had tap water and no snacks, but that was partly down to the fact that a bag of malteasers cost £3.19 and I may have gone to pizza hut after for lunch and had this beauty to start...

(crisps with cheese and pulled pork- soooo bloody worth the calories.)

But I did only have two slices of pizza after, so I can do portion control.

The Felbridge hotel and spa did not disappoint in making me feel guilty.

The swimming pool, Jacuzzi, steam room and sauna are heavenly. Each time I walk past the gym, I actually regret not bringing my trainers.

(Photo foodandtravel.com)

We had a slight problem with our room, as we had no hot water for a while. They fixed it promptly and I got my bath - there is hell to pay if I don't get my bath.

When it happened again on the second day, we were moved to a superior room complete with giant bed, and more biscuits- which was handy as I had eaten all of the ones in our original room.

(Our superior room, we had been in it for five minutes. No, there are no children making the mess, I am guilty.)

The majority of the staff here all look very young, but their attitudes are all impeccable.

and dealt with our water issue quickly and efficiently and any questions I have asked have been answered politely and with understanding because I am a bit of a simpleton.

I wish I had booked a longer stay, but tomorrow morning we will be getting up extra early to make full use of the facilities before getting a Mc Donald's breakfast.

The diet starts the day after tomorrow? Maybe? Or the day after that possibly.

Jamaica - landing day

I've got cankles, proper official cankles. How does victoria Beckham manage to get papped stepping off a plane in 10 inch stilettos and no water retention in sight?! Maybe she doesn't drink copious amounts if wine when she flies like I do, but if I knew cankles would be punishment I would have re-thought and only had 3/4 of a bottle.

The 10 hour flight went quite quick and the leather seats were a godsend when Scarlett spilt a drink all over me and I only had a marginally wet bum for five hours.

After the woosh of hot air that hit us (me, Scarlett and my parents), when we walked out of the airport and into Jamaica for the first time, a cocktail was a welcome distraction from the sweat pouring off my head when we got to the hotel.

I picked a green one as it looked the healthiest and I pretended it was kale juice and not rum.

I was over joyed when I got to my room and discovered I have a bath! I do love a bath, even when it is 30 degrees outside.

When it was dinner time I had to run back to my room in-between courses like a naughty school girl to have a cigarette as no one else seems to smoke in Jamaica. Weird.

I am constantly looking around the patio for giant spiders, I'm not sure if they have them here and I am certainly not Googling it. Who knows what might jump out at me, I'm trying not to think about it. Writing that has made me think about it- ahhhhhh!

To keep up with my fitness regime, (cough), I am aiming to do aqua aerobics to counteract the hundreds of plates of food I will be eating, but not tomorrow as I'm three cocktails down and it is not even 8pm. But my goodness the pins coladas here are bloody good.

Jet lag has hit me but I'm powering through. Its nearly 1am at home so I've been up for nearly 20 hours. My stress levels were ok until they were playing a game on stage and the contestants had to run and grab things off audience members.

First thing they had to get was a straw. Some woman next to me grabbed mine out of my drink and shoved it towards a six year old girl that was playing the game and then berated me for giving it to a woman.

Then the contestants had to get a drink off an audience member, the woman next to me tried to grab my drink - my drink full of rum- and give it to the child! I glared at her and snatched it back.

Lastly the contestants had to get shoes off someone, well, I slid mine off and hid them under my chair - sorry but she was not getting my brand new accessorise flip flops that I had only been wearing for an hour.

Did I feel guilty? No. I downed my drink - minus the straw- clapped and left the scene to go to bed.

Bah humbug. It must be Christmas, someone please buy me something for my cankles.