Thursday 16 October 2014

Rule No.93: Don't Let Men Order Things Unless You Also Want To Turn Into A Man

So...having a boyfriend for over nine months has resulted in me walking around with my trousers unbuttoned without shame. Not in a pervy way. In an 'I've eaten a burger and chips and my belly is too full, I need to breath and I don't care if people think I'm weird' kind of way. 

I don't think I've actually put on weight, but I would be lying if I thought a salad diet wouldn't be a good idea. I have been walking through Covent Garden with my trousers undone after all...


Now I didn't want to begin my blog with an apology, so I haven't, but now I'm ready... I am sorry for the lack of blogging. 

As I'm sure you can sympathise, it's hard to find the time and the energy. And in the past few months I've had a lot going on. One thing particularly that has been taking up my time is Breaking Bad and if you have already watched Breaking Bad then you'll understand.

Joking aside, any spare time I've had I have wanted to lie down and play sleeping lions. I've been tired.


But now I'm back.


If you're not friends with me on Facebook then I need to fill you in. My boyfriend (still feels weird that I actually have one. A nice one. Miracle.) took me to Barcelona for my birthday! I mean seriously, this guy is good. 

I've never really been to Spain before though, unless you count Magaluf. Therefore, my Spanish is lacking. Seriously lacking. For example, on the first night in Barcelona in a busy 'hip' bar I accidentally used the men's toilets because I presumed 'H' stood for women and 'M' for men.

I had a suspicion that I had made the wrong choice when I got into the cubicle and saw the toilet seat up and wee splashed everywhere (I still went to the toilet - I hovered). Then when I went to wash my hands a gentleman came and stood next to me. It was there that it was 100% confirmed I was currently standing in the men's bathroom.

Despite this, my trip to Barcelona was bloody amazing. My boyfriend isn't perfect though...tonight I came home to my new (and last because I'm now too old) 17-25 young persons railcard. When ordering it Archie had offered to fill in the online form for me whilst I was in the shower. A lovely gesture, but I now regret taking up this offer.

I am now a man.


It reminded me of the time my dad thought 'name on card' meant 'name of card' when booking a hotel room. We therefore had to check in at the hotel as the 'Goldfish' family. I was about 12 at the time and had a wannabe 'street cred' to maintain so this was deeply upsetting.


The moral of the story? Don't let men book or order things unless you want to be turned into a man. Or a goldfish. 

Bye x