New Season, New You

On Monday I saved this image as my phone wallpaper;

I spotted it on Pinterest and just loved it. I wanted it to inspire me and give me something to focus on this week, as opposed to freaking out about the silly little things. I think it's helped! This, along with my Mum's new mantra; One life, live it (oh and some Fleetwood Mac) has got me through the week feeling good.

Today feels like the first day of Autumn, I think I heard somewhere that it actually is. I'm quite looking forward to the next part of the year; snuggly jumpers, the return of super Saturday night tele and new season boots (that's the KG influence). This time last year I was having such a good time working, drinking. I plan to do the same thing this year in the run up to Christmas. Oh and I plan to do it skinny - I've rejoined weight watchers, it's time to shift those extra 14 pounds (that's another blog post which I coincidently have saved in my drafts). 

I didn't tell you about last weekend. Last weekend felt like the good ol' days; Saturday night in The Rose, Sunday afternoon après Rose chats with the girls in The Pub. I loved it. Perhaps that's why I'm looking forward to the next part of the year, perhaps the weather reminds me of all the fun I had last year. Ah well, whatever it is, it's feeling good. 

I've got that Friday feeling

It's Friday lunchtime and I cannot wait for 5:30. If only you could bottle that Friday feeling; the weekend ahead, a couple of lay ins, some boozy evenings...

I'm looking forward to a weekend at home. The last two I have been nipping about the country; the west, then the east. This weekend I plan not to go outside a 5 mile radius of Bedford.

I have so much housework to catch up on, it's been niggling at me all week. You know me and my OCD tendencies. I pretty much flipped out at my mum last night when she commented on the state of my cupboard under the sink;
"This needs a tidy under here darling. It could do with a wipe out too..."
"Mum! I know! It's freaking me out, DO NOT MENTION IT!"

I am also getting my hair coloured - probably in my top five of favorite things to do. I love sitting there waiting for your new hair to develop, flicking through a magazine and a cuppa tea, dreaming about the wild transformation about to happen. Only it never is a transformation for me; standard blonde highlights and a trim please.

Saturday night I'm planning a return to The Rose. I haven't been in weeks. It seems such a long time ago that myself and the girls were regulars there (and in the pizza shop afterwards too). I'm going to get my wine on and maybe even my Jaegerbomb. Oh, I need to get my flirt on too. I think I've forgotten how. Hey, maybe I should get my snog on! I think I can just about remember how to do that...

Will catch up all up on Monday.

P.s. I need your help! Please follow me on twitter @shelsdiaryblog to be read my latest posts.

The Married Wing-Woman and A Lovely Weekend

Well, what a fabulously civilised weekend I have just indulged in. One of my Uni girls came down from Liverpool to stay with me, Friday through to Sunday. Over the last few years we have made sure to book in these fun filled weekends, full of catching up over wine and delicious food, at least every three months. This weekend was no exception.

This weekend's activities involved wine, cheese, picnics, gastro pubs and cream teas. Yes, that's right. I know how to show my guests at Maison de Bush (that's a little private joke) a bloody good time!

Obviously I couldn't keep up the fancy pretence all weekend. There were a few moments of harsh Bedford reality; the obligatory Jaegerbombs in The Rose on Saturday night for one (it would be rude not to) and a particularly hairy moment where we had to relieve ourselves in the toilets of a MacDonald's. Well, even the posh folks pee right?

I had such a good weekend that I felt like I was back on holiday. It's funny what lazing in the sun and drinking in the day can do for you.

This weekend I also learnt a very good lesson. I learnt the importance of a married wing-woman. I'm sure you all remember the secret talents of my engaged BFF (let's just say she had sand in the strangest of places for days). Well, she now has stiff competition in the shape of my married BFF.

The thing about having a wing-woman who is spoken for is that when the moment of the ring is revealed, you (or in this case, I) become the centre of pulling attention of the boys in question. All their pulling energy gets focused on you and you pretty much have the pick of the bunch. It's like luring in shoppers with plenty of choice on the shelves then telling them, just at the point of purchase, that one of the items is not for sale. Am I good at marketing or what?!

And it worked. Saturday night we got talking to two lots of guys in two different bars. Obviously I was in there with my opening lines; 'Excuse me guys, are you drinking here all night?' (Ok, not my best) and also; 'Oh no! Has that guy over there just been sick?' (I did say there were a few moments of harsh, drunk reality). I spent the second half of the night deep in convo with a really nice Bedfordian fellow. Turns out Kim isn't the only one to have found a decent fella on a night out in town. Much to my dismay there a few good'uns out there.

So this has all left me contemplating the importance of getting away and breaking the routine. Life is certainly not all about work and doing the same things day in, day out. I think for quite some time I have been all about the routine.

It occurred to me today that perhaps my priorities have been all twisted these last few years. Perhaps work shouldn't be my priority, perhaps I should be. This week my happiness is my focus. I am going to do the things that make me happy, the things that I want to do and basically, screw everyone else!

I have a good excuse... promise!

Sincere apologies for my absence over the last week or so. I have been majorly swept away with all the Christmas festivities; work parties, lots of shopping, putting up my decs. I suppose you could also blame my absence on the completion of my Christmas Misson. Yep, that's right, I completed my mission to snog my crush and things are actually going quite well. I'm a bit reluctant to write about this one though. Firstly, I don't want to jump the gun (you know me, all or nothing) and secondly, what if he saw this?! Massive red face for me. I will give you some juice though, I've just got to be sketchy.

Blondie is doing well with her Christmas Mission. Even though we still need to clarify what exactly we meant by 'action' she is well into lot's of text-flirting with a boy from work. With her Christmas party happening this Saturday night, the term 'action' might have a very different meaning - here's hoping.

KK is very surprisingly struggling with her Christmas Mission to pull Italian Stallion. She was out last weekend but he wasn't. Good job though, she has since told me she was 'too drunk for the game anyway'. KK is on babysitting duties for her niece this weekend and therefore cannot accompany us to The Rose (which is open until 4 this Saturday night - absolute Rose 'till close). This means her only opportunity to complete her Christmas Mission will be next weekend. No pressure or anything KK.

So you want to know more about my crush? Well I'll give you a little juice. He is very cute, I am being very cool as a cucumber and we've been out a few times. We'll see, we'll see...

Game free? Well almost

So where were you at six o'clock on Saturday night when I SOS text KK and Blondie;
Seriously, this family/baby shindig really isn't my scene. I'm guna have to get wasted tonight

I was mid family get-together, where conversation revolved around dirty nappies, X Factor and boring married life. This was when I could even hold a conversation over all the screaming children. I have nothing in common with these people, someone please ask me about something normal. You know, what my thoughts are on the new Marvelle baby announcement perhaps or what my preference is; Brazilian or Hollywood.

Therefore, I am sure you will agree that I had no choice but to rush home as soon as I could, swing by Tesco for a bottle of Chardonnay and down two thirds of it before the girls were even round. By 1130 I happily found myself at the bar in the Rose ordering the second round of Jaegerbombs.

I did quite good Monday to Wednesday. I did actually feel like a hermit at the beginning of the week; work, home, bed, work, home, bed and so on. Thursday night I was working, that cannot be helped and also, I sort of get paid to flirt with the boys so that's fine. By Friday I was knackered but was seeing Mr Robbie Williams at the O2 so obviously made the effort. By the time Saturday came I felt like I needed the comforting crowds of The Rose; I feel at home in my towering heels with a face full of makeup and a belly full of wine.

I had quite good game too actually. I was full of confidence and got talking to some good looking boys, striking up conversation about the length of time they spent blow-drying their immaculate barnets. When KK suggested Embassy (think Save the Last Dance but with a lower ceiling and lots of blue strobe lighting) I thought it was a fabulous idea!

And it was. I had a really good night. Do you know why? I couldn't have cared less. I wasn't bothered about trying to look good or making the eyes across the crowded dance floor. Screw it. Screw them! If they are interested let them make the move.

This sort of brings me on to a little bit of boy gossip; this one I think I actually like a little but I have to tread very carefully - the ones I like never work out. Therefore I am going to keep it very vague, in the hope to save my embarrassment when it doesn't work out. I am getting very mixed signals of off one boy; clear IOIs one minute then nothing the next. I am confused. My game knowledge is causing even more confusion, therefore I am continuing to play it cool. Will keep you posted here. It's still very early days.

Going on Game Va-kay

So I had a fairly event free weekend. We went out in to town on Saturday night, making it the tenth weekend in a row we have inhabited The Rose and had the obligatory weekend Jaegerbomb. I wasn't really feeling it though. I don't think any of us were.

Blondie spent Saturday-day at some family do, always a drain on the emotions. KK started the evening at an Ann Summers party then met up with an old gal pal, aka The Ultimate FPUA. We met up with KK at about 11, she was well on her way to drunk, however by 1:30 myself and Blondie were in the taxi home, armed with a footlong subway and a big-long rant about our favourite subject - boys. Sunday KK visited me at work looking a little down; she appeared to have the same attitude towards the night as me.

I don't know why we have all had a change of heart. There was FB inbox chat about the Game having beaten us, but I like to look upon it like we are just taking a holiday. I think I need a rest from the boy-thing, time to chill-out and not obsess about my next move or his. I feel like I need a little time to re-coup, slow down and do a little me time. I can't say I am not going to flirt - it appears I have become a natural at this, but I am not seeking boys out, texting or FB chatting. Nope, boy-free zone. Instead, this week I will mainly be; writing my Christmas cards, watching Home and Away and ironing.God knows where I will get my inspiration from to write this.

I have even decided not to go out next weekend. Asides from the feeling no game thing I think it might be good for the bank balance too, not least forgetting my liver. Perhaps a few quiet weekends will do wonders for our game, perhaps the next time we go to the Rose all our game super powers will have mounted up and we will have the most amazingly successful night.

I might need to ask a favour of you? Next Saturday night, at about 11, can you make sure I'm not in a taxi heading into town?

The Benefit of the Doubt

With all the self-training I have been undergoing with my fellow FPUAs I feel I have got kinda good at the meeting the guys thing. The flirting, the chat and in more recent weeks the snogging in the middle of the dance floor I am quickly becoming a natural at. It's the next bit I always have trouble with.

Firstly there's the number swap. To-date I have never asked a guy for his number, however if he asks for mine I usually oblige. Here follows one of two things; either he will drunkenly text later that night/the next day, with something along the lines off 'You have a good night?' or he will drop off the face of the earth into the solar system of forgotten boys. The three day rule made famous by teen films in the 90s/00s no longer appears to apply.

There is however a new element to this next bit, you could call it an extension; Facebook. Personally, I would never add a new boy on Facebook for fear of being labelled a 'stalker' or 'psycho'. Also, there's the bit a few weeks down the line when you have forgotten all about him, your news feed is full of un-funny comments on a picture/wall post you know nothing about. Saying all this however, if he adds you then this is the quite obviously the green light for a little inbox banter.

OK, so even this bit I can kinda do. As you've just read, I am quite rehearsed in it. It's the next bit I think I need more practise at.

You know the bit in Bridget Jones when she's flirting with Daniel Cleaver across the office and immediately imagines them on their wedding day? Yea, well that's me. I jump the gun big time. Yes, I know its a little nuts, well OK, massively nuts, but I think I do it because above all I am an idealist.

I like to think this amazing guy for me will come along one day and I will just 'know', just like all your friends in long-term relationships tell you you will. To be honest, this is so ridiculous it is probably worthy of another post. My point here is this; if I don't feel something for a guy in the first few moments of meeting him then I toss him onto the 'not for me' pile and move on to the next. I would love to be cool and date lots of guys (when I say date I actually mean date, no funny business) but perhaps I'm not giving these nice boys the BOD.

So with this in mind, Oil asked me out again for a little drink. Perhaps I should accept this second opportunity and give him just that; the BOD.

Super Saturday

My Saturday evening usually goes like this; wine, Strictly, shower, tan, wine, The Rose, vodka, dance floor, boys, Jager, boys, probably a bit more Jager, pizza shop, pjs, drunken chit chat with the girls with a lot of belly laughing. This weekend did not disappoint.

Saturday night we dressed up as Superhero's, not just to look fit in skin tight spandex and super long eyelashes, but to also celebrate a friends birthday. After all the obvious characters got shotgunned on the event's Facebook wall, I decided on the Black Widow, aka Scarlett Johanson. I know what your thinking, clearly an obvious choice. 

By 8 on Friday I was looking hot, or so my fellow FPUAs lead me to believe. I had squeezed myself into my Primark skin tight wet look leggings, teamed with matching peplum top and shiny red wig. I am not going to lie, kinda felt a bit like a Kardashian. Again, I blame the girls for this false confidence, oh and vodka.

I actually bumped into DW whilst at our favourite bar. I didn't physically bump into him, in fact I actually played it cool, that was until aloof looked kinda rude and I had to say hi. After the usual 'Hello, how are you...blah blah blah' he proceeded to tell me was involved in a dance off with a blonde girl. As one of the girls said; he was always a bit wierd.

During our Sunday morning de-brief over my now infamous breakfast baps, one of the girls added a new boy to our already extensive repertoire of nicknames. 'Jabber' joined the likes of 'Ticktac Teeth', 'Italian Chris', 'Rose Boy' and 'TT'. Good work girls :)

Xx

For all abbreviations see my cheat list

Wowsa.

So much has happened over the last few months...
My bestest single friend (aka the Wifey) met a man, turned a little odd and swiftly moved out of my spare room. My saviours came in the shape off two newly single gal pals; old school friends whom I have rekindled friendships, with over lots of wine and Dissarano cranberries. These girls have been amazing, encouraging me to be just a little bit naughty with the boys and have joined me in getting drunk every Saturday night since May. That might explain my absence in writing - it's just too painful staring at a computer screen with a Jagerbomb hangover.

I am of course still selling bras and booze, but I think my focus has been elsewhere; either re-living the previous weekend's embarrassing Saturday night, or looking forward to the weekend's to come.

Myself and my new found gal pals have been pretty much focused on one thing: boys. Since reading Neil Straus' The Game we have been obsessed with a female equivilant, determined to translate some of his theories over to the blokes. We have experimented with opening lines; it turns out guys are pretty crap at being the forward ones, observed the numerous ways of peacocking, looked out for IOIs (indicators of interest) and have become self-proclaimed experts at negging*. We have turned into femail PUAs (pick up artists). The boys of Bedford had better watch out.

So I guess you could say I have been meeting quite a few guys, but the quality of these finds may have to be questioned. The latest boy was quite literally a boy; he was 20, at collage and worked behind the popcorn counter at Cineworld. What can I say? The possibility of cheap cinema tickets and an endless supply of pick and mix lured me to him across the dance floor of Hi Fi. That and his height. I can't really remember too much more about him.

Tomorrow's Wednesday - Hump Day. Too early to start thinking about this Saturday's shinanigans?

Shel x


*Negging - a term used by Neil Straus, and all Pick Up Artists in his book, referring to the technique of ignoring and then slightly insulting the lady they are interested in, only to compliment her and lure her in at the point she thinks he is not interested. Seems complicated but guys seem to love it. The more you take the piss out of them the more they love you.