The love that never dies

For the past 13 years Manchester has been where my heart has resided. Don't get me wrong, I love my Mothership (Hull, just in case you've lived under a rock) and nothing could ever take me away from her, but Manchester has been an all consuming, soul shaking, stomach flipping love since the day I started university in 2001.

Cities really are like people - some of them you just don't click with, no matter how hard you try (Leeds and Dublin I'm looking at you here) and some you just feel an instant connection with the second you step out of the train station or into the city centre (Newcastle I'm looking at you here). Some cities just speak to you and Manchester didn't just speak to me, she yelled in my ear and its resonance has never stopped ringing since.

As with any big city there is almost too much to discover and my world was hugely small - back in the day us students weren't really that fussed about the Didsburys and Chorlton (or at least none of the ones that I knew) and they still remain un-chartered territory for me. As a student my domain was Oxford Road, the city centre, Rusholme, Fallowfield and what was back then a 'new' and 'up and coming' part (which may be unthinkable to some reading now), The Northern Quarter.

I first lived in Halls directly opposite Manchester Piccadilly station and I remember my first walk down Oxford Road to go and register at the Student Union. It was about a 20/25 minute walk and I remember getting overly excited at seeing Paradise Factory, the club that Paradise Records was turned into and the BBC building. I was dealing with the big guns here.

As I walked under the footbridge with University of Manchester emblazoned on it, I swear I really felt at home. I belonged on these streets and from that day on I walked up and down Oxford Road like I owned that joint. This become my territory and I have never, ever, in my whole life, felt as confident and assured of who I was than I did in the years I spent in Manchester.

Maybe everyone who goes to university feels this way about the city they lived in and the people they met and the time they spent there. I have absolutely no doubt that I look back on my time there as an undergraduate student and a postgrad with rose tinted glasses. And I don't care. I thank God that there were enough good times to merit the rose tinted glasses, goodness knows there are enough periods of my life where the strongest lenses wouldn't be able to put a good spin on it.

It felt like my city and I think it will always feel like my city, even though it has now changed almost beyond recognition in some parts and I am hopelessly clueless as to where the good places are to go, or indeed, where anything is that is immediately out of the areas that I used to frequent all the time.

I want to stop people in Piccadilly Gardens and say "I remember this being unveiled bitches! I was here that long ago!" I want to march up to all the hipsters in the Northern Quarter and go "Booya! I remember a time when the stuff in the Oxfam vintage stuff was actually affordable!"

Whenever I go there I feel alive. I feel like me again. I feel the beauty of living in a place that is so large that you can be whoever you want to be because anything goes. I always wondered if I would grow out of being a city girl and eventually have the hankering to settle down in a more suburban area or live in a little village, but I have slowly realised that it is just never going to happen. I need stuff happening - I need an endless choice of places to eat and places to drink and places to go and things to see. But I still feel like not just any city would do, I could move to Birmingham and I still don't think it would be right, because Manchester is the one that will always be the comparison and aint no-one who measures up to Her.

But unfortunately, my memories of living in Manchester and being in Manchester and breathing in Manchester are all intrinsically linked to The Person. He is wound up and caught up with all those memories and those feelings and my brain has struggled to begin to pick apart Him from Her. She is the one I want to hold on to, hers are the memories that I want to retain - him? I have no place for Him in anything.

December 2014 was the first time since I first lived in Manchester that I didn't visit the Christmas Markets. I couldn't even bring myself because going to the Christmas Markets had become something that we did together, even though there were a whole bunch of years when I went before we ever even dreamed of getting together. And it made me feel so sad that he was going to not just break my heart, but break the part of my heart reserved for Manchester.

And so this year is the year that I go back. It's the year that I go back more than once, it's the year that I go back and make new memories with Her and slowly excise Him out of my brain.

I can't wait to start my love affair again.

May Project 365 Round-Up

"Woah. What's going on here then? You can't post a round up of May's Project 365 photos before May's even finished!"

Well yes I bloody can. It's my blog and I'll do what I want to. Especially when I have blogged every. single. day in May and am feeling fatigued and need an easy post.

If today and tomorrow's photos are really amazing, I'll give them a post all of their own, I promise.

May

Clockwise L-R: Blackpool baby yeah; Rosie on a wall; crocheted elephant; Coke bottle with my name on it; Lily cat; Hull 10km that wasn't

26th May - Oh I do like to be beside the seaside! Especially when it involves eating fish and chips, gawping at people, getting accidentally burned, freezing my feet in the Irish Sea and drinking a bucket of gin. Read all about it here.

1st May - Rosie is a funny old one. She doesn't really enjoy being on four legs you know. She can always be found up on her hind legs at the kitchen counters, up on her hind legs asking for a hug, and here, up on her hind legs on the wall that overlooks the castle when I took her for a walk.

13th May - I crocheted an elephant everyone! Aren't I a clever monkey. Not the people who wrote the pattern they're not clever at all, but I am the clever one for following it correctly and producing an elephant. That doesn't stand....but let's not dwell on that.

8th May - "Oooh look at me, I'm all sneery and so sick of seeing Coke bottles with people's names on them" - is something you will hear me say never. I think it was a great idea and it makes me smile and I don't even feel bad about it. Instead I feel bad for the souls who cannot find the joy in anything in life. The one drawback to Coca Cola's idea? People like me who are a bit weird and now can't buy the bottle unless it has either my name on it or someone who is connected to me's name on it. I don't want to drink Amy's bottle of Coke, that's just weird.

18th May - It is hard to get a photo of Lily where she doesn't look either deranged, massively overweight or as if she's descended from bats. It turns out the secret is to take a picture of only head, from side on so you can't see the size of her ears or her crazed eyes. I like to think this is how they take pictures of Kate Moss too - I bet she looks deranged from certain angles too.

19th May - How could I not include this photo? Let us all revel in the delight that was the Hull 10km that actually wasn't a 10km. I've pretty much given up complaining about it now, mostly because I've run out of people that haven't heard the story. However this t-shirt is wonderful - it's a good size it's a nice colour and doesn't make me feel all gross when I run. I'll take my good t-shirt with lies written all over it and go and run a 10km somewhere else thank you very much.

--------------

This is quite the achievement. Not only have I got to the end of May and managed to blog every day - I've also managed to make it 5 months taking photos every day when I actually haven't got a life at the moment. 

High five!

All Project 365 photos can be found here on Flickr. Don't let the new layout throw you out and give you a headache like it did to me.

Beside the Seaside

You know what's good about living in Preston.

Besides parks that have hills you can roll down obviously?

It's only a wee 30-odd minute train journey from the mecca that is Blackpool.

Bank Holiday Sunday was full of the sun again and The Person and I know not to look a sun-horse in the mouth and took ourselves off to Preston station, paid our £8.10 and headed off to wonderland.

I hear a lot of bad stuff about Blackpool and some of it may be true. I have yet to experience a night out in Blackpool which is probably what colours a lot of people's notions about it. But for me it is glorious.

Stay right by the front, don't bother crossing the road (except when you need to visit all the Poundland shops to buy a pair of sunglasses because you left yours at home) and just delight in walking along by the front. It is clean as a whistle, and with the sun shining and the smell of fish and chips in the air I have absolutely no idea why anyone would have a bad word to say about the place.

It's been a long while since I've been to Blackpool - almost three years in fact. The biggest addition is the Comedy Carpet which left me absolutely gobsmacked. I'd heard about it, but had no idea just how big it was. We spent ages, wandering over it, laughing, beckoning to each other to come over and read something we recognised - it was a brilliant idea and whoever was in charge of commissioning it should be given a round of applause.

Just ever so slightly less new is North Pier which we took a stroll down a couple of times because once just wasn't enough. As the old-time songs wafted past our ears from the speakers and we looked at the sweet old couples sat on the benches, The Person came over all romantical and told me he loved me. I'm putting this down here because he will deny it ever happened and I will show him this post and go HA. YOU LOVE ME. and then we will go about our ways.

Some of it was naff. In fact a lot of it was naff, including the guy who beckoned us over to the stall where you throw darts into playing cards saying "Come and have a go and win your girl a teddy". That nearly made the feminist inside me rise up and bite - I was tempted to take up the darts and throw them myself but remembered at the last minute that I can't throw darts and probably wouldn't prove a point worth making.

As we wandered along The Person said to me "This is funny isn't it? Because we're enjoying it in an ironic way and also, just enjoying it."

And enjoy it we did. The Person is blase about the sea because he grew up with it literally at the end of his street. I grew up about an hour away from the sea (let's say it again in case some of us are new and some of us have forgotten - Hull is not on the sea. It's on an estuary. Trust me, you don't want to go swimming in it.) and hence behave like an excitable Jack Russell when I get near it, immediately wanting to get in it and paddle about and feel the sand between my toes.

How I know I'm a blogger - I take photos of my feet in water

The Person feels this need much less. When the sea is on your doorstep you know you don't need to go in it at all costs - especially when it's the end of May and the Irish Sea is approximately -3 degrees. Whatevs. You lose all feeling in your feet after a while when it's that cold anyway.

We also found the holy grail on our wanders. A bar that is literally on the sea front and isn't tacky. The Beach House was lovely and although we didn't eat there (why would you when you can get a chippy from a stall?) the food did look lovely. The Person drank his pint and I drank my bucket of gin (seriously. Put cucumber in your gin and tonic. It will change your life. Also. Drink Hendricks gin. It is out of this world.) and yeah it wasn't the cheapest round I've ever bought but it was worth it to sit and look at the sea and gawp and judge people's bad parenting skills.

We took our frazzled little, slightly sunburned selves back on the train and collapsed on the sofa for the rest of the evening.

With Bank Holidays like this it almost makes it worth working for a living.

Rollin'

I feel like we can't really complain you know. Yes the weather has been atrocious just recently, it really has been ridiculous. But we've had two Bank Holidays in May and both have been filled with glorious sunshine.* (See the early May Bank Holiday post here) You have to give the weather credit for that. I am anyway - I don't want to anger it and seem ungrateful and be punished with an even worse summer than last year.

This Saturday The Person and I had to head into town on a little shopping errand. The Person had an unfortunate incident earlier in the week which saw him completely rip the crotch of his work trousers - apparently the act of getting out of a car was too much for his trouser seam, which ripped to reveal a hole so big you can fit your fist through it.

But I digress.

We were in town, the sun was shining and trousers bought, we had no other plans for the rest of the day.

This bright spark here came up with a smart idea. We would go and get sandwiches and go to Avenham Park, possibly my most favourite place in Preston, and sit in the sun for the afternoon.

And so we did. We sat up in an absolutely massive bank so we could survey our lands before us. The Person sat quietly and read, whilst I laid on my back and took photos of the sky, my new favourite hobby, and bugged him and complained that I was going to fall down the hill because it was too steep, and panicked that my crisp white skin was burning under the rays.

I then had the best idea I've ever had, which was to roll down the hill a la a small child. I wasn't too sure if this was a good idea or not, I'm not famed for my excellent judgement and my "Amezzing ideas" tend to end up in tears and pain but The Person assured me that I could just roll "a bit" and stop myself.

No. No you cannot roll a bit and stop yourself.

I can let you all know that gravity works my friends. It works like a dream. The second I set off I was out of control and all I could hear The Person's voice, getting fainter and fainter, going "Oh my god, STOP!"

I eventually came to a standstill, my head absolutely spinning and totally unable to stand.

And promptly went back up to the top and rolled down again.

Kids know where it's at my friends. They understand the FUN.

I eventually persuaded The Person to join in the fun and he gave it ago but I couldn't leave it well alone and, on my final roll down the hill, ended up with one leg of my jeans completely covered in mud and with bird poo on my t-shirt.

I don't regret a minute of it.


*Or at least they have been in the Midlands and in Preston. Just covering my back here folks.

Thirty

I did a birthday.

And turning 30 really wasn't that bad you know. In fact, you could almost say it was just like any other birthday. In fact, it was just like any other day, except for the fact that you get presents and you get to do everything that you want to do all day long.

The celebrations started a little early, a couple of days before when Best Friend came over from Hull and we went to Ribby Hall Spa for the day. See, that's what's good about turning 30, when you're younger you don't have the money to spend on getting poked and prodded and quite pummelled violently at times by a much younger girl.

I could totally be a lady who lunches by the way. I would quite happily, if I had the money to spend, just hang around in spas all day. The pair of us were so relaxed by the end that we were unable to hold a coherent conversation with one another, but we managed to pull it together to go out for tapas at my favourite place in Preston, Pond, where we ordered far too much food and had to bring most of it home in a doggy bag.

The day itself was just me and The Person and once all the presents had been opened he ran out of the room  saying he was going to get my final present. 

He came in proudly holding before him his very first cake;

The cake is a blog post in itself and I think I will save it for another day, but I don't think he's ever been prouder of himself.

We spent the day in Manchester where we ate lunch in Wagamamas and mooched around the shops, hoping to find something to wear for Saturday night, but discovering that fashion is not for the Thirty - it is for pre-pubescent girls with a penchant for neon. Only I could go to a major city in the North and walk away with a top for £13 form H&M which I bought in sheer desperation because I refused to go away empty handed.

The highlight of the trip however was a visit to Cloud 23 which was all that I'd requested we do for the day. For those not in the know, this is the bar in the Hilton Hotel which resides in Beetham Tower on the 23rd floor, offering some rather splendid views of the city and far far beyond.

I've been before at night to have some cocktails and admired the city all lit up and orange but really wanted to see what it was like before the sun went down and we weren't disappointed as the day was lovely and clear.

The photos don't do it justice - I have somehow taken photos which just look as if I've taken them out of the 5th floor office window and I can't convey just how far you can see when you're up there. You can the planes taking off from Manchester Airport for freaks sake. You can see Jodrell Bank!

You will just have to take my word for it. It was high up. The views were awesome. The End.

We shovelled a cream tea in our faces and then made our merry little way back home where we had planned to eat but discovered that lunch at Wagamamas and a cream tea at Cloud 23 goes a long way.

It doesn't sound like much I know but it was a happy day for me, with my favourite Person, in my favourite city, doing my favourite thing - eating.

A birthday in food: Tapas at Pond; the birthday cake; demolished cream tea; Wagamamas

And then it was back to the Motherland for the weekend where we did more eating. We had Chinese with Mumsie and galettes with my Dad (plus more cake) and finally much drinking with my special friends on the Saturday night where I surprisingly managed to get off pretty lightly hangover-wise considering the amount of money I spent and the number of shots that kept appearing in my hands.

I wrote a post previously about how I was feeling about Turning 30 (in case you were wondering, it wasn't a good  feeling) and I'd be lying if I said I'm now totally over it and feeling fine and breezy. But you know what? I know people who are 30 and have the kids and the house and the job etc etc and quite a few of them are basically complete dicks. 

I may not have a house. I may not have children. I may not even have a fancy career. But I'm definitely not a dick. So 30 can suck it, I'm off to get me some more food.

Magical Mystery Tour

So I've been away for the past few days visiting The Person. It was kind of a special weekend. One which kind of marked the fact that we've been together for one whole year. Ideally we were going to take a long weekend to spend together but the God's conspired against us (mainly in the form of The Person's work who were sending him on training on Monday morning) so we just took Friday off.

The Person was in charge of the weekend's activities and duly told me he'd organised a SURPRISE trip on the Friday.

I won't lie, I'm not big on surprises at all. I'm a lady who likes to be in control. I have no problem doing new things, I just want to know what those new things are going to be.

I asked for wardrobe advice and was told to bring outdoor shoes, my trainers would be fine, but something sensible, and a coat. I started to worry a little bit. I've said it before and I'll say it again, I'm a city girl. I like my amenities to be close at hand, and if there isn't a Tesco within 10km I start to hyperventilate. Jokes, jokes, I'm not that bad, I don't mind the country in small doses, but again, I like to be in charge.

I tried to make The Person yield the mystery information but it was to no avail. All I knew was that I had to get up early doors ready to get on the train.

Before we left, The Person put on his walking boots. My heart sank a little bit. This mystery location was definitely going to involve the countryside. But I put my faith in him and off we trotted. Normally the trip to this mystery location just involves a straight through train from Preston, but due to some engineering works, our mystery tour took on several diversions - in total 2 trains and a bus - so I got to see quite a few rural train stations along the way.

Train from Preston to Oxenholme, bus to Grange-over-Sands, train to Dalton-in-Furness

On the final train, The Person turned to me and asked me if I was excited. I replied that I was nervous, which was similar but not really the same thing. He asked me what would be something that I would be excited about. I gave it a little thought but I could really only think of one thing...

"The zoo" I replied. He looked a little bit crestfallen and answered "Oh....is there anything else that you would feel excited about?" I had a think but I couldn't think of anything...

The train rumbled on and I asked if the day would involve animals in any way shape or form. The Person replied "I can't say yes or no to be honest. There might be but I can't promise anything."

That did not make me feel better.

Getting off the train at Dalton-in-Furness didn't enlighten me any further, or make me feel any better. It's in the middle of nowhere, just two platforms, no ticket office, nothing doing at all. I had a sinking feeling...

The Person called a taxi to come and take us to the mystery location which further confused me, what the hell was going on?

All became clear when we got in the taxi driver and he asked us, "Are you going to the zoo?"

My eyes got very big.

"Are we going to the zoo?!" I asked The Person.

We certainly were. We weren't just going to the zoo though. We were going to the ultimate zoo. One that I didn't even know existed (you get bonus points if you've ever heard of this place by the way). We were going to South Lakes Wild Animal Park. Now I get giddy about anything involving animals, but had I known how exciting this day was about to be I probably would have completely hyperventilated and most likely dropped in a dead faint on the spot.

Want to know the main reason why?

LEMURS.

Lemurs are pretty much one of my favourites (I think we all know that any kind of large cat is going to take ultimate precedence but that really is a given) so I was very excited to find out that South Lakes have a pretty large lemur population. But it gets better......these lemurs are wandering about free. You know as in, not behind bars. As in. Right next to you. As in. You could reach out and touch them.

BUT you must not reach out and touch the lemurs. There are several signs about warning you not to do it, you could get bitten and if they caught you touching them you would get thrown out. But seriously, when they're as close as they are it's hard not to. In fact, it goes against all of my natural instincts not to touch them. I'm an animal toucher I'm afraid - dogs and cats in the street, if it has 4 legs, I'm going to try and cop a feel. At one point I was gripping on to my bag with a vice like grip as I desperately tried not to succumb.

But it was hard. No I'm not zoomed in on this photo, he was that close.

Like other zoos, South Lakes has set feeding times for you to come along to and see the animals being fed, but unlike any zoo I've been to, you're allowed to feed the animals too. Even typing this out now is making me feel excited. Because I can remember feeding the giraffes...

...Which are huge by the way. I mean you know giraffes are big but I've never been this close to one before and it's not until their head is too big to get in shot that you realise the sheer size of these guys. They were actually pretty gentle when they were taking the leaves out of your hands, although you did run the risk of getting a lick from a very big tongue.

I have also fed Humboldt Penguins...

....Which are kind of smelly. That's what 12 tonne of fish will do for you. These guys were super gentle. You just dangled a fish above them and put it straight in their beaks. They get pretty mad if you don't appear to be supplying them with fish though, a few people had their cameras and their shoelaces pecked at.

We also fed the lemurs. They had grapes for dinner and were hilarious - all the animals know the score and know just what feeding times mean. They all lined up mostly neatly along the barriers to be nicely fed. The lemur that The Person fed was incredibly cute and put their little lemur hand on his to take the grape from him. Mine was a little snatchier, but I loved him just the same.

We saw the jaguars and lions being fed, which involved the keepers hanging chickens off 12 foot poles and then letting the kitties in to clamber up and pull them down.

I could go on. And on. And on. And on. And probably on. But I'll stop there. 

You get my drift. It was amazing.

And even more amazing is the attention South Lakes puts on conservation, they are ultimately geared towards the conservation of species of wild animals (a point which is somewhat hammered home in the talks they give - less info about conservation and more interesting facts about the animals would have been appreciated) and there are plenty of opportunities to either adopt animals or contribute in some other way to their programmes.

In short?

The Person wins the prize for best magical mystery tour ever.

And I even has a lemur of my own!

SFD - The Aftermath

I have made it through to the other side alive. My first foray into Slutty Fancy Dress is over and done with and whilst I wouldn’t exactly call it a success, I wouldn’t say I have been scarred for life either.

I gathered a few observations during the night which I would like to share with you all;

- We went for a makeover at Shu Uemura in the afternoon of the hen do. This was a good call because at least it was one less thing to worry about on the night – we know we looked good. Plus we could choose wicked awesome false eyelashes. Most people chose lovely, subtle, classy eyelashes. Me? I chose massive black feathery ones.

- SFD requires alcohol. For me at least. I would love to be possessed with the kind of self confidence that allows people to strut into a bar in a groin skimming dress as if it’s no big deal, but alas, I am not. Alcohol helped me stop feeling quite so conscious.

- BUT. Be careful to not drink too much alcohol. We saw an incredibly inebriated Queen of Hearts at the end of the night and SFD + Copious amounts of alcohol = Very unclassy looking person.

- And on that note: When did Manchester become a hive of Hen Nights?! I don’t remember that from uni days at all. It’s kind of disappointing and tacky but my guess is they’re mainly in the area we were in and a small trip further afield would be L-plate free.

- BUT having lots of other Hen Parties around also in fancy dress took the pressure off somewhat. There are other people you can a) smile knowingly at and b) think to yourself. “Well at least I don’t look as bad as that.”

- Until the alcohol has kicked in and all the other Hen Parties were around I kept reminding people to “Fake it until you make it” – pretend like you don’t care and eventually you’ll stop caring. You can’t go out in SFD and look embarrassed about it, you have to forge ahead and just pretend this is a normal, every day activity for you.

- If you are wearing something as short as I was, get a pair of hotpants. They will make you feel better psychologically just knowing they’re there. The thought of people seeing your pants is less horrifying than the thought of people seeing some hotpants. Which is ridiculous I know, but it’s the same as letting people see you in a bikini over your bra and knickers.

- When you buy said hotpants, make sure you actually see them. Don’t just ask in the shop if they have black hotpants and have the shop assistant say “No but we can order some in for you to come and pick them up.” Then your housemate will kindly go and pick them up for you and send you the following text message “Got your hotpants for you. Did you know they were leatherette?” I think I died inside a little bit when I read that message.

- Going to The Birdcage was a good call. Mainly because it was mostly full of other Hen Parties. Yes this does mean an awful lot of tacky Hen Party paraphernalia flying about but it also means a distinct lack of men. Being around other women made me feel much less self-conscious. Had we just been in a club I would probably have wanted to kill myself, or the gobshite trying to feel me up.

- Younger blokes will do their best to perv discreetly. Older men will just openly turn into slobbering fools.

- When the Maid of Honour announces that she’s got a drinking game where you all have to pull the name of an Artist out of an envelope and then down your drink whenever a song by said Artist is played during the night – do not pull Michael Jackson out of the envelope. Seriously. That man was responsible for too many good songs. I had to be given a reprieve at the end of the night before I ended up in need of a stomach pumping.

- Knowing that the Hen had a good time made my feelings about SFD pale into significance. At the end of the day, this was about showing a friend a good time and she wanted to do fancy dress. As far as I’m concerned, that’s what I had to do.

Overall I’m glad I did it. I had a good time and I feel it’s something I can tick off some kind of mental list. I don’t want to look back and regret things – I already do that looking at pictures of a much younger, thin me, saying “Why did you cover yourself up girl?!” I feel I’ve been given a second chance now that I’ve lost the weight and at least I’ve taken advantage of that.

Have I changed my mind and become a devotee of fancy dress? Erm....no. I think it’s ridiculous (not to mention expensive). But being a good friend is more important to me than my feelings about wearing polyester and looking a bit of a twat.

(I don’t think you appreciate quite how slutty this SFD was. I would love to share a picture with you but I’m just not brave enough. I’m still praying that my brother doesn’t log into Facebook and see pictures of his little sister looking like Alice in Wonderland was never meant to.)

Project 365: A look back at February

And whoosh. Another month has flown past. I would like to personally thank Lady Time for letting the sands through her fingers so liberally. Not.

I’m definitely starting to feel the burn of Project 365 now. The novelty has worn off and I’ve photographed pretty much all I can do on my walk to work and back each day. In fact a disturbing number of my photographs are taken when I’m at work – every time my boss leaves the office, I’m rummaging around for my camera and setting something up to photograph.

I haven’t taken any photographs this month that I’m particularly proud of. I wanted to write this post and thought I couldn’t really call it a round-up of my favourite photographs – more of a round-up of my favourite moments of February 2011 as represented by my Project 365 photos. 

(Why have a snappy title when you can have a convoluted one I say)

01/02 - How very convenient. The 1st February happened to be the day I reached my goal weight. Hurrah. Definitely a moment to remember. (I bragged about it here) I should say that since then I have paralysed with fear about going back to weigh-in. I am now a Gold Member and weigh-in is free for me as long as I am within 5lbs of my goal weight. Now I’m in somewhat of a dilemma, I’m sure I will have put weight back on (I don’t own scales so can’t say for sure) but I’m still happy as I am, part of me is very reluctant to go back to be told to lose weight, just because of an arbitrary number I plucked out of thin air when I first joined up. Hmm...not sure how I feel about it all to be honest.

03/02 - I snapped this on the way to the gym after work (ps how much lighter is it now already?! Hurrah!) because I thought that Hull City Hall, as seen across Victoria Square looked so beautiful. I might be alone in this one because the poor little photo hardly got any views on Flickr. Poor Hull.

12/02 – This month I made my very first cushion cover. It’s been exciting. And I haven’t even done a blog post yet about finishing it. Shame on me. But when I finished this side of it one weekend I felt immensely proud of it.

17/02 - I’ve got a lot of love for these when I included them in my February Photo Scavenger Hunt post and it made me very pleased. I absolutely love these shoes and have done from the very first day that I spotted a whole shelf full of them reduced to £3 in Primark 3 or 4 years ago. The sad truth is that I bought them and then didn’t dare wear them in public (although they did get an outing to Vegas when I went to see American Girl and Boy in 2008 – if you can’t wear those shoes in Vegas you seriously can’t wear them anywhere). I have decided that I need to get my fancy shoes out more though, I have a few of them but never ever wear them because quite truthfully a lot of them cripple me so can’t really be worn on nights out. So I have decided that at Stitch & Bitch on a Thursday I’m going to give them all their turn in public – it’s only up the road, I can totter there and back no problems. Expect lots more shoe photos to come in the following months...

20/02 - Somehow I’ve managed to get to the age of 27 and never travel in First Class. However, when I was booking my tickets to come home from Preston after a weekend of interview and Manchestering I discovered that by some quirk of fate a first class ticket was the same as a standard ticket (no I have no idea why either). I won’t lie, it was bliss, I am not looking forward to having to slum it in standard from now on. Lots more room, including bigger arm rests so you don’t have to get into an elbow war with a complete stranger and no having to listen to some chav’s music blaring out of his earphones. And on the train from Preston to Manchester there were free biscuits on offer. That’s right folks. Free biscuits. (There was nothing from Manchester to Hull because it was 6pm and there’s no trolley service on then. Booooooooo.) Small things please me people, what can I say.

23/02 - I don’t know about anywhere else but last week was freakin’ miserable weather-wise. If it wasn’t raining the sky was just grey and heavy and leaden. I think the sun broke through once on Thursday and I had to be restrained from cracking open the sun lotion. When I woke up on 23rd to yet more dismal stuff I decided to cheer myself up by putting on a summer dress. Another Primark bargain from a few years ago, it hasn’t been worn in a while (due to a) no decent summer weather and b) being too fat to button it up) and I had a burst of inspiration and put my black jumper over the top of it so I didn’t freeze. This might not sound like a burst of inspiration to you but I have little imagination, especially when it comes to wardrobe matters, so this was a major breakthrough for me. And you know what? It totally kept me happy all day. Win.

-------------------------------

If you want to check in on my Project 365 photos then click here or on the link on my sidebar.

Not quite Edinburgh

Sometimes I get the feeling that I’ve really annoyed someone somewhere in the universe for an unknown reason and I’m being roundly punished for my actions.

Last weekend I should have been in Edinburgh with The Person. Someone he knew offered us a flat so we didn’t have to pay accommodation costs and he had managed to find pretty cheap tickets (Return from Hull to Edinburgh normally is £90. Yes really.) for us to travel up by train. It was exciting and something to look forward to. When you only get to see each other once a month if you’re lucky and you don’t have many pennies to spend the idea of a cheap weekend somewhere is pretty exciting.

And then...

I got a call to say that I was invited to interview for a job in Lancaster.* I asked if I could be interviewed on another date but unfortunately potential employers hold all the cards at the moment and can afford to say no. Edinburgh was officially cancelled. (And we couldn’t get refunds on the tickets because they were advance purchases. Nice.)

After a few minor meltdowns at this news we decided to make the best of it. Lancaster’s only 20 minutes away from Preston by train (part of the reason for applying for the job in the first place) so I would go there after my interview and we’d have a weekend in Preston instead.

We figured that as we were going to spend money doing Edinburgh things like go to the castle we would spend the money on (another) train ticket and travel into Manchester for the day and be tourists there instead. Even though we’ve both lived there...you know what I mean.

So we did what all good tourists do and went to a museum, specifically the Museum of Science & Industry, which I have to hold my hand up and say I never went to in the whole time I lived there. That could be because I’m allergic to science though.

It is full of science things you know. And industry things. The main thing that excited me was finding out that there was actually a reason the place I lived in was called Whitworth Park – he was a real-life person! Hurrah.

I won’t lie. There’s a reason I did an arts degree. I can’t get excited about science. I CAN however get excited about it when it’s interactive. Aaah it’s a magical word – and MOSI uses it to the max with the whole 2nd floor devoted to hands on science. I can’t get enough of that to be honest – you just have to be prepared to shove some children out of the way. Cretins.

Also. There is a whole hall that’s devoted to the textile industry with looms and all sorts of stuff in it. I like that bit. (Apologies for conforming to stereotype.) But I definitely wasn’t enthralled by the hall with the engines in it. I did get momentarily excited when I thought I could climb into an old railway carriage but it turns out that you couldn’t, you could just look in it. At the engine. Boo.

I might not love science but I do love food and after some productive window shopping and real life shopping (frame reduced in Habitat from £9 to £2 yes please thank you very much) we were seduced by the smells coming from the market in Piccadilly Gardens and got us some chicken tikka and kebab wraps. I declare it the best £7 The Person has ever spent on food.

A quick trip to the Northern Quarter was in order after that for drinks with a friend. Trof was rammed to the rafters but we managed to squeeze in to Apotheca to have a drink and a catch up before we took our tired little bodies back to Preston for the evening.

Evening activities included going to The Olive Press for food. The verdict? Meh. Alright but nothing to write home about. However you can get two cocktails for £6 all day every day and that most definitely is something to write home about. We sat on big comfy armchairs in candlelight and got to be a real life couple, instead of the part-timers we usually are. We cocktailed our way out of there and on to another bar, before stocking up on crisps and Toblerone and heading home to watch The Hangover (where have I been? That film was amazeballs.)

The Person is kind enough to let me watch the Hollyoaks Omnibus every Sunday morning, against his better judgement and despite all his whining. He likes it really, he just won’t admit it. And then there was the familiar onset of depression as the day drew to a close and I realised that I’d be going home and won’t get to see him again until the end of March.

Not quite Edinburgh, but not too shabby either.

More photos can be found with one little click of the mouse here

*Yeah. Waste of time. I didn’t get the job. Apparently I’m awesome but was up against someone with a PhD. Which begs the question....why invite me to interview in the first bloody place?!

Productive

This weekend I was taken over by a curious force.


The force to do things.

I’m not really a lazy person at all, I find it incredibly difficult to sit still and do nothing, my hands have to be doing something, my mind has to be engaged and I can sit for at most about an hour before I have to get up and stretch my legs and do something. But even so, this force was something else.

It started on Friday night, I had a little plan in my head of what I was going to do – come in, start making my own curry (why have I never done this before?! Silly girl. Don’t need a jar, just a bit of curry paste!) and then while it was cooking, get in the shower and wash my hair. I’m a big fan of efficiency – why would I hang about for 40 minutes while my curry cooked when I could use that 40 minutes to do something useful.

And so it began.

I showered, I dusted and hoovered downstairs, I scrubbed the kitchen, did all the washing up, scrubbed the hob clean, I fluffed up cushions, I was content.

The trouble with these ‘Doing’ Binges is that they have a tendency to take over and go out of control and on Friday night I started making a list. A list of every little thing I needed to do in a weekend which was already going to be taken up with a day trip to Manchester on the Saturday. I cannot explain how much I love a good list, no better feeling than crossing things off a list so every tiny insignificant thing went on there. I was on fire.

And so this weekend I did the following:

- 2 loads of washing done, (1 load dried, sorted and put away)
- Got drunk on Gluhwein at the Christmas markets (note to self, eat breakfast before you get to Manchester, otherwise that stuff will go straight to your head)
 - Gave the patchwork blanket to its new owner (part of me wanted to make her open it there and then but I resisted) - Bought all my wrapping paper, gift boxes, shredded paper etc
- Wrapped all my Christmas presents (I always forget how long this takes, I was up until 1am doing it!)

- Made a Christmas Cake (yes purists I should have done it ages ago but I didn’t, so, you know, get over it.)

Don't worry, it's not anaemic, this is before I put it in the oven!

- Got my picture up on the wall finally after moving in 6 months ago (with the help of Dad who also broke one of the slats on my bed by putting his whole bloody weight on it. Brilliant.)
- Wrote my Christmas cards (I know that people say it’s cheaper to make them than buy them but I got 18 cards for £1.99 from The Card Factory which I thought was pretty damn good)
- Finished making a Christmas wreath (post to come on that later in the week)
- Uploaded photos on to my much neglected Flickr account (trying to get in practice because I want to do Project 365 next year!)
- Cleaned the house from top to bottom (you have to have a clean house before you start decorating)
- Started to get out the decorations ready to decorate the house on Tuesday
- Put some decorations up in my bedroom
- Watched the Coronation Street omnibus so I could finally understand what everyone’s been blathering on about (might not sound productive but I did it whilst....)
- Finished my Mum’s blanket (Yes. You did read that right.)

It felt rather amazing. I really don't like feeling like I haven't done anything and now I can rest easy knowing that everything is done, all that's left to do is post those presents to the people living far away and I am officially ready to sit back and let the festive cheer wash over me.

(And take photos of that blanket so I can crow about finishing it.)

Things I have learned over the past five days...

• I miss going to gigs and watching live music. When I lived in Manchester I went all the time and now I’m in Hull there’s nothing doing. Mostly because no bugger ever comes to Hull.

• I also miss going to smaller gigs. I’d never been to big full-on stadium or arena tours until a couple of years ago and I miss just bobbing along to the Academy to watch someone. The atmosphere is a thousand times better and the tickets are about half the price.

• I love Goldfrapp. I saw her a few a years ago and loved her then and I still love her now. I’ve never been to a gig where the lead singer is so note perfect – her voice is haunting. (It would be nice to have a bit more crowd interaction though.)
• I should not watch The Office Christmas Specials before I’m about to meet my boyfriend’s friends for the first time. I will cry all over the place when Tim and Dawn get together, my eye make-up will be ruined and I’ll look like I’ve just had a massive argument. Alternatively, I should wait to do my make-up until after I’ve watched The Office Christmas Specials.

• When feeling nervous about meeting people for the first time I will turn to drink. I’ve tried to avoid it and I will continue to try to avoid it but for the moment I have accepted that it’s just inevitable. As long as I don’t drink too much it shouldn’t be a problem. Instead it masks my insecurities very well and allows me to actually converse with people instead of sitting in a corner and smiling inanely.
• Do not attempt to do Christmas shopping when you’re slightly hungover and incredibly tired from the night before. If you do you will balls up in Vom Fass and discover once you’re at the till that the nice £20 bottle of whiskey you wanted to get your Dad is actually £45 and you will have to go through the embarrassment of saying “Sorry. I can’t afford that, can we start again please?” (I’m still blushing whenever I think about it.)
• A Marmite pop-up shop has opened in Selfridges in Manchester and I want everything they sell. Like all of it.
• The Singapore chow mein from the Chinese takeaway at the end of my street is my new favourite thing and I want to eat it every day. Scrub that. ALL day, every day.
• That boy I’m seeing may just be more of a cat whisperer than I am. He walked in the house and within 5 minutes Maggie was sat against his leg, purring away. She hadn’t even come to say hello to me. And Fred – the little ginger whinger who hides from all who enter Mum’s house, walked right on over to him. My mouth still hasn’t closed from the shock of it.
• Lily will object to you putting elasticated Christmas -themed jester collars adorned with bells on her neck. But it will be hilarious. (There is photographic evidence but I’d need to steal my Mum’s camera first.)
  
• Rooms at the Premier Inn have the worst lighting known to man. I nearly killed myself when I first looked in the mirror upon getting ready for my friend’s wedding. And yes I looked that bad.
• Lovely, pretty (and expensive) dresses from Coast that fit you perfectly 2 weeks ago can suddenly be too big for you (I’ve only lost about 6lbs since I last tried it on) and this can induce major panic. Thankfully I have a wonderwoman for a housemate who advised I buy Velcro “just in case” it got too big. And didn’t just advise me, actually went out and bought it for me. Thanks to her the dress was velcroed to my bra and stayed up all night.
• Watching one of your best friends get married will be more emotional than you can imagine. So emotional that for about the first hour you won’t even be able to look at her without crying. Seriously. In fact even thinking about her started me crying.
• I’m still the best minesweeper in town. I didn’t pay for a drink all night. It’s not my fault people don’t like their champagne and don’t drink all the bottles of wine that are on their tables.
• Every time I see him, I leave, loving him a little bit more.
• Coming back to work on Monday when you’ve been off since Wednesday, sucks.

Titanic Spa - Huddersfield

I realised something a while back. I realised that since the Big PE of 2010 and the Big Break-Up of 2010 I hadn’t had a day off work, other than 2 days to move my stuff out of the flat and trust me that was not relaxing time off.

I figured I deserved a break. Nearly dying and turning your life upside down are the kind of things that allow you to take some time off work.

But I don’t have any money, and didn’t want to take a day off work to just sit at home. Luckily lastminute.com came up with the goods. A random e-mail from them pointed me in the direction of some spa deals that they had on and when I saw that they had an amazing deal for £20 to spend a day at Titanic Spa in Huddersfield and I could bring a friend with me for free I was sold.

I gave Culture Friend a little e-mail to see if she would be interested because she had said she wanted to try out a spa, and also she has been through a tough time lately with looming redundancy (thanks Conservative government!) hanging over her head. Plus, you know, she has a car.

So last Friday we set off to the wilds of Huddersfield to spa it up. And when I say the wilds of Huddersfield, I mean it. This place is in the middle of nowhere (which we should have figured, relaxing spas tend not to be in the hustle and bustle of a city centre). Also you have to factor in the fact that we are from Hull. Hull has no hills. And I really cannot emphasise this enough. It’s honestly the flattest place you’ve ever seen, there are only about 2 places driving instructors can take you to practice hill starts. We’re mostly below sea level. We do not cope well with hills. Huddersfield. Is hilly. Very hilly.

It’s probably also very picturesque but neither of us were looking at the lovely views given that we were both pretty certain that we were going to die on the narrow twisty turny country roads. This was not helped by the ever-friendly sat nav who wanted to take us off-roading down a road that clearly had not been driven down in about 10 years. Eventually we saw the spa far below us in a valley so we knew we just had to keep going down and we’d get there in the end. All I can say is at least we were heading for a spa – you’ll need it after the journey there.

The spa itself was brilliant and right up my street. For the £20 we had access to the gym, swimming pool with steam room and sauna, lunch in the bistro, use of the relaxation room and use of the Heat Experience – a spa area with foot spas, experience showers, sauna, steam room, ice chip room, plunge pool. All excellent.

I did have a minor freak out when I discovered that Culture Friend didn’t like steam rooms or saunas. Or gyms. Worrying. Thankfully she booked herself a facial (she wasn’t being profligate, she found out the day before that she has a new job, hurrah!), otherwise I was really afraid that the day was going to be horrific for her. I hope it wasn’t because I was loving it.

I did book myself a treatment, a body cleanse for an extra £35. Really wish I hadn’t bothered, it wasn’t really worth it. I got body brushed, which I admit did leave my skin feeling tingly, although it was on the borderline between pain and pleasure, and then had an oil applied to my skin. It was nice but not £35 nice. Plus I had to cope with nakedness (why didn’t I think I was going to have to take my top off?!) and noisy bitches in the spa who clearly didn’t get the memo about the spa being a relaxing, quiet place.

I felt more than a little refreshed after gymming, swimming, steaming and sauna-ing myself and having a nice long shower in the changing rooms after all that. Then it was in to the relaxation room which was just a low-lit room with lots of cushions and soft seating about where you could have a little read or a little sleep. I did both (and only got mildly irritated by the guy who had stolen all the pillows from the sofa and was lying on them) and it was so nice to just take the time out to relax. I know you say to yourself “I could do this at home” but you never do, do you? There are always going to be too many distractions getting in the way. It was beyond soul-restoring to be able to just lie there and not think about all the stressful things and people and instead think about the people and things that make me happy.

Now.

Having said all this I feel I need to point out that only paying £20 for this deal was the thing that left me feeling really good. Normally you would pay £65 per person for what we experienced (body cleanse not included) I really really have my doubts as to whether I would pay that amount of money out. It seems a little steep to not even have a treatment thrown in.

But what I shall be doing is keeping it in mind if I ever come into a great deal of money. And I’ll be keeping my eye out for special offers, there is a hotel attached and they have some offers on that include a night’s stay, breakfast hamper, lunch and dinner, use of the gym, swimming pool and Heat Experience, that could be worth looking at. (At the moment lastminute.com is doing a 2 for 1 offer on the £65 per person deal OR a 2 for 1 offer for £99 which includes everything we had, plus the overnight stay, breakfast hamper and meal in the bistro.)
 
But I really can’t put a price on taking the time out to begin to get my head together and really I’d have paid any amount if I’d have known how good I was going to feel afterwards.

Culture friend’s opinion?

"Facial was amazing, including a hot towel/massage to the feet-cleanse-tone-exfoliate-shoulder/neck/face massage-face mask (with lovely eye cooling pads on) and then moisturised. Was very chilled afterwards and my skin felt lovely. I think it was worth the money but do wish these things were available cheaper so they could be a regular thing!


I really enjoyed the day but was a bit disappointed by the Heat experience area (it smelled like a gym changing room, yuck!) and not being a gym bunny only really made use of the pool which appealed to my being a shorty/having a fear of deep water as it was an even 1.2m all the way across meaning my unfit lungs could take a break half way across without swallowing half the pool! I therefore wouldn’t have been as impressed if we had paid full price I must admit! I would love to spend a weekend there (with half a day full of treatments…clearly when the lottery win finally comes in!) I will certainly be keeping an eye on the email offers! Favourite parts of the day: facial, lunch and relaxation room book reading time!"

By the seaside

Everybody has a list of things they want to do before they die. For some, it might be a bungee jump. Others might want to take a trip on the Orient Express. Me?
I wanted to go to Blackpool.

I have vowed to be more interesting and do more things. I’ve become stuck in an incredibly lazy rut of never doing anything on weekends. This is fine every so often but not every single weekend going. First on my list of The Girl Does Interesting Things was Blackpool.

Or more specifically, a certain place within Blackpool.

I love a bit of theme park/funfair action. I think it comes from growing up in Hull and the appearance of Hull Fair every year. I love the rides baby. I will jump on any chance to go to Alton Towers (still haven’t been since the new ride 13 opened, I want to go right now please) and I seriously just cannot get enough of the thrills. And we all know what Blackpool Pleasure Beach has?

The ultimate, the mack-daddy of rollercoasters, The Big One. (Or to give it it’s corporate title The Pepsi Max Big One).

It’s the first thing you see when you step off the train and the first thing you hear is the wisps of people’s screams as they plummet to their death down the initial 205 feet drop. I nearly had apoplexy when I saw this, I needed to go on it. Immediately.

However. I am well-versed in the ways of theme parks and the thing to do is not to go on the biggest and bestest straight away. What would be the point? Everything would be dull in comparison. You must warm up. You must go on a mini rollercoaster first.

Luckily the Pleasure Beach has everything you could want in the way of rollercoasters and more. It has ridiculously old wooden ones, it has ones that don’t have tracks, it has ones that spin you round a loop, it has ones that I still do not understand how they got past health and safety. There is so much there. And more.

And here is where it smacks Alton Towers into oblivion (YES. I totally did a theme park based pun there.) To get your chance to go on one of these rides involves a wait time of at most about half an hour. Yes I’m serious. Hardly. Any. Queues. Maybe we went on a ridiculously slow Saturday in the middle of July, maybe it gets worse, but I still don’t think it would compare to the hell on earth that is Alton Towers every day of the week. I have never been to Alton Towers during the school holidays. I’ve never even been on a Saturday. And yet still I have become used to upwards of an hour queuing time for rides that last less than a minute. NO MORE! I have seen the light. The Pleasure Beach is the way forward.

Ok. It’s not quite as slick as your bigger theme park. And when I say “not quite as slick” I mean really not quite as slick. It’s all a little faded and a little outdated and in some parts, just plain random. I’m sure it all made sense when it first opened. Even the Pepsi Max Big One is looking a little grubby – although this could be because it’s 16 years old. How has it taken me this long to go on it?! – although in comparison to the Wild Mouse ride that was built in 1958 it’s somewhat gleaming.

The thing is if you took away the tatty bits or even spruced them up then it would lose all of its charm, the slightly tattiness of it is what makes it so brilliant. I genuinely don’t mean that as a criticism, I genuinely love this place, I just cannot get over how great it is (and don’t get me started on the fact that it costs a fraction of the price to get in to Alton Towers) and cannot believe I haven’t been before. I need to go back there. Really soon. There were so many of the rollercoasters we didn’t go on (mainly because we were supposed to be there early doors and didn’t get there until lunchtime while people dithered about whether or not it was going to rain.)

And let’s not forget that Blackpool has a beach people. So many people get blasé about the sea when they’ve grown up with it or lived near it. I don’t understand this, the beach is still a massive source of amazement for me. I freakin’ love it and want to run down immediately and bury my toes in the sand and get over-excited at the waves. Unfortunately the stupid tide was in and there wasn’t really any beach for me to play on but we did sit on the steps (on a front that must have been very recently renovated, it’s marvellous, well down Blackpool City Council or whoever it was that paid for it) and I admired the sparkliness of the sea.

I wanted to go to the Tower but it was really far away and rollercoastering takes it out of you. Next time though...

In short. Blackpool’s brilliant. Yes, fine, it’s not the most upmarket of places and yes, fine maybe it’s a bit of a hellhole on a night out (I counted approximately 12 billion stag and hen parties) but the Pleasure Beach? You have to go. You just have to. No excuses.

I think it’s clear that...

PS If you go on Valhalla. You will get soaked. And I mean to. the. bone. No exceptions. Make this the last ride you go on so you can go and sit on the front and dry off. Seriously. You get wet. Maybe take your make-up off before you go on it as well.


PPS And the Big One. Oh. My. God. Go on it. Now. Get your shoes on and just go.