Cigarettes I've Smoked and Loved

It is probably too early to write this blog post as I am only 94 hours in and I have been ill for half of those days and its still a novelty. But here it is, my eulogy to my smoking self.

I have smoked since I was 16. I am now 29. For 11 of those 13 years, I would classify myself as a heavy smoker and by that I mean unless I was sick or badly hungover, I would get through at least ten a day (forty on day boozing sessions with follow-up evenings). None of this "only five nicked from someone else on a Friday night" for me. I was committed.

And I bloody love it if I'm being honest; a fact which has most definitely stopped me from trying to give up before. I have never once tried to quit or felt the inclination to and I didn't even care really. My attitude was sort of "that's great you want to - I don't - therefore leave me alone."

And then I started practising meditation and yoga just under a year-or-so ago and I started to crawl a bit with what smoking was - really what it was. A habit. A dirty habit that was killing me and was weak. It was killing my breath, which as anyone who has ever done yoga will tell you is your life source and the source of all life.

I started to wonder. I looked at my skin closer and noticed the greyness after a heavy smoking session. I'm 30 next year... Do I really want to be a 30-year-old-smoker? That always seemed so pathetic to me... it's not so sexy post-30.

And then I thought about my favourite cigarettes and I wavered...

Here they are for your information:

10: After the gym cigarette. Yes I mean it - I always feel I deserve it more.

9: With good Italian coffee in a street-side cafe in the crisp, dry London autumn.

8: After a large meal... or between main and pudding, excusing yourself from the table for a five minute "breather".

7: Driving... with the music really loud.

6: Post-coital (a habit picked up at university when my boyfriend at the time used to smoke in bed - hideous).

5: On a brief break from work during the day - a cigarette and a striding walk is guaranteed to calm me down when I want to kill a client or colleague.

4: On holiday - especially on the beach, but mostly in all those European countries who love smokers.

3: With the first wine of an evening.

2: The "smirting" cigarettes with a boy I fancy outside a bar, or meeting a boy I fancy through our collective need for a smoke outside anywhere. I may have to swear off dating smokers...

1: Cigarette or five or ten with my best friends, wine and plentttyyy of conversation. I will miss these ones the most (but may concentrate on the conversation even better if I am not worried about which of the others has stolen my lighter that I desperately need to light my next cigarette.)

Writing this has made me want to rethink again. All those lovely cigarettes.

However in reality this confirms to me even more how I must give up as I hate the idea of being such a slave to a habit. Also I have told A LOT of people in order that their jibes fuel my steely reserve and competition.

My last cigarette was on September 13th 2015, I hope that I will never have another and that if I slip up and do have one, or two, or a pack, I do not jump off the waggon totally and stay comitted to the resolve to quit. I do feel better already by at least wanting to quit. I feel better that I actually believe now that it isn't cool or arty or fashionably outsider to smoke... it's not. I want to succeed and I hope I'm strong enough.

Wish me luck and don't ask me to bum a cigarette.

PS: Anyone have any tips on staying off the fags, please tweet me @wordyloveslots.

PSS: I do not judge anyone else for their desire to smoke or not smoke. Thank you.

My Salcombe

I have been going to Salcombe with one of my favourite family's in the world for 12 years, since I was 17. It is a ritual, a part of my summer and always, ALWAYS a good time... 

When we were in our teens and early twenties, me and my best friend shamelessly ogled the Salcombe Boat Hire boys with their bleached hair and sea tans, dying inside if they so much as looked our way. Days were spent in head-to-toe Jack Wills on the beach and buying underage ciders from the handsome barmen at The Ferry Inn. It is a teenager's playground in the summer, a chance to flirt and stay out late in one of the safest places you can be. Early mornings were spent in the local club - Fusion it used to be called - in nearby Kingsbridge where we danced to cheesy music and counted out our pounds for WKDs, before returning back to Salcombe on the coach at 3am.

Twelve years later and I still love it... Our collective group of early twenties - early thirties plus some of the older generation now tends to take up two properties and has entranced numerous newbies throughout the years. We also have a few routine activities which we partake in every year and places where we visit and as I've just come back from a weeks holiday, I thought I would do a post with a few tips. So here's my Salcombe guide... (please note this is not a guide for young kids as we don't happened to have had any of those yet - so if you do this may not be the guide for you...)

Happy Birthday You Alcoholic, Spendthrift, Chocoholic, Cat-Lover...

Guys, I am cowering my head in shame as I have not posted since this time last WEEK. So much for my #100DaysofWriting. Even with weekends off, which I decided was necessary quite early on, this is still four days of nothing. I am getting back on the horse today with a post that I have been meaning to write for a while on greeting cards.... don't worry, it'll have lots of pics.

---------

Happy Birthday You Alcoholic, Spendthrift, Chocoholic, Cat-Lover...

The other day I went shopping for a birthday card for one of my best friends and left feeling irritated. This is something I have experienced before when hunting for cards. You see in well-stocked card shops and boutiques there is usually a wide variety of cards, many of which blow the stereotype out of the window, but most still reinforce it and in shops with a smaller choice, they all do.

What is this stereotype you may ask?

Here are some "ladies" having lunch... obvs with oodles of shopping bags and wearing ballgowns

According to Greeting Cards, women are shopaholics who only care about looking good and the sensual pleasures in life eg: chocolate, cake and wine. Or cats. Or they think about cock all the time. And they spend lots of money on said chocolate and shopping, but it is always their boyfriend's cash. And they "never have enough to wear", which is like the world's biggest disaster OMFG.

Does this really need a caption? There are some breasts...

Men - according to greeting cards -  men are equivalently obsessed with tits and alcohol (maybe fair in some cases). And football is their shopping and they also enjoy complaining about how their wives and girlfriends spend all their money on shopping and wine etc. But men also have cars, all forms of transport, actually, they tend to favour trains in youth and then cars and boats (not sure how greeting -card woman gets anywhere- perhaps she has to wait for her boyfriend to pick her up in a sports car). Greeting card man also has all the sports that he can play, woman sometimes makes reference to the gym, but usually only in the context of how she'd prefer to have a Sauvignon Blanc. (She is definitely an alcoholic) .

See all women spend ridiculous amounts of money on face cream if it ensures a youthful appearance

Greeting card woman is also very concerned with her age and her lines and how people might think she looks compared to some 18 year old woman. Men are concerned about age too, but mostly because they aren't as good at football and maybe no women will let them stick it in them. They then progress straight to grumpy old man who likes gardening and moaning. Apparently.

Here they are... busy bitching about some wrinkles on some other, older women...

Ahhh a lovely Princess.. with animals dancing about her. That squirrel must be GM... haven't seen a red one in years.

Greeting card woman is also often described as being bossy and high maintenance and always right. Whether these are the only women who receive cards/star in them is unclear. Yes, she is either a bossy cow or a Princess or a Mum.. The Princesses piss me off the most to be honest, they are always wearing bloody pink and they really do nothing except wear crowns...

I spoke to my mother a while back about my frustration with greeting cards and she calmly said... yes but do you know how much these new stereotypes are a step forward from the old ones... She was talking about cards that featured good wives who cooked and often featured a vacuum cleaner as the central excitement. I understood her point.

And by the way, I think the stereotypes in cards are bad for men as well. I like to think that although men may enjoy looking at a large breast/having a beer/watching football, they may wish to be defined by some other facets of their personality on their day of birth. 

Men are extremely simple don't you know...

Anyway, rant over, here are some more of the LOL cards I have discovered.... And if anyone else buys me a card about being a shopaholic who's constantly keeling over from excessive consumption of Rose Pinot and cake, I may scream... Unless... maybe... that's what people think of me. ;)

Another Wino Wendy. So LOL and original.

 

So I forgot how Greeting Card Woman is also really shit at packing and has to take LOADS of suitcases. Probs for all her clothes and shopping and face creams...

HA HA HA. Your daughter is an obese alcoholic who can't read ROFL ROFL

Young Greeting Card Woman (and Man) is often obsessed with WiFi and Gadgets. Apaz also still LOL to sort of hint and domestic abuse...

Aaaah a classic... (read no man in her life, probs wears weird clothes, smells)

Still wrong to be called high-maintenance and demanding. So deny it girls. Get your blow drys in secret. Wear jeans with rips.

Daphne is a lucky bitch who apparently lives in a lovely rural community with fields etc

    

Ah classic dog/bitch joke. Throw in a sausage there... why not...

What a bossy, hysterical woman. Also where is Mr Bossy..

Why would they when women love shopping SO MUCH and spending all their cash. LOL that men love Hawaiian shirts as well.

This is what women think, all the time

#The100DayProject #100DaysofWriting, Day 13 (late)

Attempting Adulthood

 

Today's post (a day late, soz) is a poem about Attempting Adulthood and how in your late twenties, everyone is at very different stages... I hope you like it. Please comment, share etc x

Attempting Adulthood

Don't wish your life away,
They say.
Don't wait for weekends and wine.
Be happy and balanced and like life all the time.
Go into Monday meetings with grace and a smile,
Lack of caffeine is not a reason to be hostile.
Make sure you exercise at least three times a week, but don't worry about your weight.
Squat, lunge, downward dog and eat a healthy diet, a colourful plate.
Read all sorts of books to nurture your mind.
Keep up with politics and documentaries. Be kind.
Do some charity work, perhaps.
Don't collapse.
Socialise, see art and plays and watch the news,
Don't overdo the booze.
If you're single,
You must mingle .
On Tinder and Happen and Hinge, Oh My.
You'll certainly find the girl or guy.
If you're not, then keep up with your mates
Inbetween the convos on mortgage rates.
What's your five year plan?
You've lost your tan.
She's lost her phone again, she's gone a bit wild;
Her ex is in Singapore having someone's love-child.
I can't really afford to go out tonight;
They exchange in the next fortnight.
I'm thinking of sacking it all in to go travelling
My life is unravelling...
You're still young-ish... well not old yet
Too old for drugs and student debt.
Tick-tock,
Biological clock.
I'm bored of the city, but I like the culture and food at 3am
When do you ever use them?
I have a cleaner but shop at Asda and Primark.
I won't queue for clubs anymore, but I'm still scared of the dark.
Nothing's solved with drink, aimless spending or a late-night screw.
As the cliche says, just do what's right for you.
**

#The100DayProject #100DaysofWriting, Day 10

Why I'm Doing Sober for October

I know you probably don't really care, but I feel the need to say anyway. I certainly wouldn't care if it was me and someone else was doing it. I'd probably just think that they were being bloody boring and if they wanted to give money to charity, why didn't they just do it instead of forcing their sober personality on their poor unsuspecting friends and acquaintances. Turns out that wino friend ain't so fun without a couple of g&ts...

I definitely wouldn't sponsor anyone and likewise I wouldn't expect anyone to sponsor me. Sure it's for a good cause but why should I give someone money for not drinking? That's a personal choice and not like you are climbing a mountain or doing a marathon or what not. You're just laying off the vino. Big woop-de-doo. I'd probably prefer if you were just consistently drunk anyway, it would amuse me more. 

But I'm doing it. Macmillan Cancer Research's "Sober for October" campaign planted the seed and it has rooted and sprouted and here I am on the road of 31 days without London's Prozac and here's why. (aside from the obvious benefit to the WONDERFUL charities I'm supporting, soz Macmillan, I'm spreading the lovveee and all the below charities are fab - see links below to see what they do xx.)

Bender September

First there was the summer of pubs and Pimms and mid-week gins. Al-fresco = el drinko and there's just too many options. Then there was a two week holiday in Crete at the beginning of September full of Greek spirit. Then there was a well-oiled business's trip to Japan followed by days and days of social occasions right up until last weekend and then I stopped and promptly got flu. So sure my body is crying out for this

My Bank Balance Doesn't Want to Sponsor My Drinking Habit Anymore

It's not looking happy (see previous paragraph) with my endless shenanigans. It's basically telling me that it only wants to pay for necessities and occasional wholesome treats and not double Hendricks G&Ts for me and five friends in London's marked up establishments. Look at me, it insists, I'm so skinny right now (unlike you) and I need to get a bit of meat on me before you insist that it's Christmas and you want more sponsor money. I mean really.. Rude. 

To Do: Sort Life 

There's a few things in my life right now that really need sorting, that need some decisions to be made, actions to be taken, the most significant life-admin, possibly. 

I have found myself not to be the most productive when a) hungover or b) planning my life admin around my jam-packed social life. I feel that losing the sauce for a month will propel me in to action, as the thought of a six hour pub session when everyone else is pissed and I'm nursing an orange juice and trying to make sense of dull drunkards conversation is not appealing. 

Health

I haven't been to the gym in at least three months and I have certainly piled on some holiday weight. I need to fight that bitch with all my sober strength and the arse-kicking endorphin loving, clean-eating version of me is not usually present at the same time as lush wine-o-clock me. So one of them has to get packing for a while while the balance realigns...  The end result will be back to moderation in all things...

Just to Prove I Can

Four years ago I didn't drink for 40 days and it wasn't too much of a stretch, didn't really affect my life at all... When I thought about that recently it scared me, hence the need to do it immediately. 

A lot of people will assume I can't do it too and therefore I would like to stick my middle finger up and prove I still have the will power of Mother Theresa when I want to.

A lot of other people may think that this really is not a big deal, no alcohol for a month, but if you are a young(ish) professional in media, in London, with my social circle unless you hate booze... trust me it is no mean feat...

My page is here. 

I don't expect anyone to donate as I said, I bloody wouldn't. I plan to give ten pounds every time I pass a situation when I would usually drink. However, I will be splitting equally between:

• Macmillan Cancer Research
• The Halow Project
• World Land Trust
• Epilepsy Action

Please read more about these wonderful charities on their links.

I'll keep you updated....

On a Voyage to See George Ezra Live

 

So I'm not going to pretend I'm achingly hip and knew who +George Ezra  was a year ago when no one else did. I heard Budapest on the radio with everyone else. I bought it, then I bought the album, Wanted on Voyage, then I watched him on the TV at Glasto and knew I needed to see him live. 

I googled tickets and lo and behold...

Last Thursday, I got on the train to Kingston (WTF  haven't been there at night since I frequented Oceania) with my younger, musically more forward friend RB having purchased tickets to see George-ous at a student, live music nightclub called McClusky's. 

We obviously drunk too much rose before, slightly intimidated by the brash sun-worshipping, cider-swilling students that sat around us - not a care in the world - on the Kingston riverbank. 

The gig started at what time, 1040! That's late for a school night and how would we get home to SW11 when the trains stopped running at half-eleven... Night bus it seemed. 

Once George came on stage though, everything stopped. I had known that the album was great... song after song after song that had an addictive riff, a poetic lyric and Mr Ezra's deep, haunting yet joyful vocals powering throughout. But live was a different story... 

The room shivered as he played through his set, with just enough wry, mischievous chatter between. And what a treat to be so close, a mere four people back, we saw him in all his pretty, blonde, cheekboney glory adjusting his guitar strings, his voice enfolding us. 

Favourite songs of mine including, Blame It On Me, Leaving It Up To You and Cassy'O - about a watch by the way - were all played as well as obviously Budapest. The one everyone knew. 

It wasn't a long set, but it was perfectly executed. Consummate professional he is. "I'm leaving straight after this," he said, "straight on the road". Touring the UK, Festivals and then continental Europe towards the end of 2014. I did get the sense he was a little weary...not of the playing but the travel. 

Ne'er mind because the music makes up for it. Ezra reminds us of Dylan crossed with a 60s soul singer. He's folk with a dirty, dark edge in the lyrics. I fucking love him.

Buy the album (or stream it) and see him before he books the big venues. This boy needs a field or a small gropey club with a sticky bar.

We loved it all and happily got the night bus home when he finished, leaving the students to their shots and sex-searching...

georgeezra.com 

Blossom Day with LJ... Gambling, Gin and Gordon..

So you know when you have one of those perfect London days... I had it on Saturday... I'm not a fan of those "look at my perfect life" blog posts as a rule, they usually shield a multitude of less than truths, in the manner of an Instagram filter. But this day was just lovely, so I'm posting...

It was a late start and by the time me and LJ left our house it was 3.30. Straight to the bookies for our yearly visit to bet on some horses names we liked for the Grand National.

Then a walk through the blossomy streets of SW London.

Before long we needed a respite and decided to make our way to London House in Battersea Square.. Gordon Ramsay's latest venture...

The little bar attached to the restaurant... no reservation you see... is an easy way to spend a Saturday afternoon... It was the first time we'd been there and to be honest we are a little worried about how many times we are going to return and spend money we don't have.

The lights have me lustful and the art is ethereal..

Coffees in... Great coffee

 

We eagerly awaited the Grand National result

None of my horses came anywhere AS USUAL

 

Little L picked the second place horse, Balthazar King and so basically we got stuck in to the G&Ts to "Spend her Winnings"

Very, very good ones too... we might have had a few. However, we were putting the world to rights so it's allowed. And if you're going to drink gin.. you might as well drink nice ones...

Then we got a little peckish.. but I didn't see our budget running to Gordon today.. despite the win and also as nice as the pretty waiters are, we may have needed a reservation... Will be returning with more pennies though for a proper meal and post...

So, we strolled to the other side of Battersea and straight into the doorway of another restaurant that I'd never been to: The Butcher and Grill. An interesting concept of a butcher's, a shop, a cafe in the day and a restaurant and bar at night serving very good steak and red wine...

Our table was by the shelves..

 

Which excited my new found chefness...

It was reallly veryyyy good.. Great steak, tasty greens and crunchy chips.. Obviously, I had Bearnaise sauce too..

Will definitely be going back there...

After supper we popped for another glass of red to at our local to finish off the night and we were in bed before midnight. Feeling satiated and slightly middle aged.. and what... Sometimes, aged 28, a jagerbomb an hour is not what one needs...

London House
7-9 Battersea Square
Battersea Village
London
SW11 3RA
T: 020 7592 8545
londonhouse@gordonramsay.com
www.gordonramsay.com/london-house

 The Butcher & Grill
39-41 Parkgate Road
Battersea, London
SW11 4NP
T: 020 7924 3999
www.thebutcherandgrill.com

Valentine's in Glitterland, Secret Theatre Show 4

It was Valentine's Day, I'd already had several glasses of wine and I was with my friend whose boyfriend had kindly lent her to me for the night. We'd picked the day of lovers purposefully to forget the flowers and forced fashions and instead to see Secret Theatre: Show 4; the fourth and final in the series that had been taking place at the Lyric over the renovation period. Show 3 had been disarming but epic, therefore I was expecting a lot. 

As you go to the Secret Theatre Series knowing basically nothing, it is hard not to be confused when it starts; there's no theatrical blurb or programme just a cast list with "Based on John Webster's, The White Devil". Perhaps other viewers might know their Jacobean tragedies, but this meant little to us (Googled during the interview). The play had been modernised and sharpened by Hayley Squires in its modern manifestation, Glitterland.

"How the fuck are we supposed to rule them if they know the truth."

To be honest, the first half was not easy to grasp, though we though afterwards, perhaps this was purposeful. What became clear from the start though was that there was some sort of dystopian power-struggle going on with nuances of incest and sexual subterfuge. Set in a future-land, a future court or political ruling class, the themes, staging, language and feel of the play was somewhere between Pulp Fiction, Sin City and Brecht's Ui. Beauty, celebrity and power are valued above all, indeed half the ruling class are part of the "entertainment" sector.

Certainly there was a sinister air from the start as the leading female, Marilyn Monroe-esque, Victoria sang her old-Hollywood musical numbers and was lusted after by the married prince of the land. Still confused a little, we were thrust into Godfather-territory as all the men had a meeting about something or other; all with names such as Franco, Lupo, Ciano and Nemo and someone was banished. We also accepted that there was part of what was occurring that may have been imagined by one or more characters, but we weren't completely sure of which part it was. Perhaps the sexy red headed woman that only appeared in the presence of one character, Nemo - the play's Iago - and seemed otherworldly.

"What is wrong with not looking beautiful"

By the interval, I was soft-headed, partly due to wine, partly due trying to scrunching my brow in concentration... The acting was fabulous, that was obvious. Especially Katherine Pearce's, Victoria and Leo Bill's, Nemo and having seen these actors before in Show 3, this really showed off their versatility. I was also pleased to find my date as muddled as me about where it was going..

The second half was certainly more elucidated and drew things together so we could enjoy the power of the acting, though after the interview it felt a little predictable. More people are killed, public speeches are given, people sing, drugs are taken and the women fade into the background even more..

Still Leo Bill's performance "glitters" as Nemo; playing the character so well, that the audience shirk back as he draws near.

"We'll be running the Glitterland together, like we always dreamed"

What did I take from this piece...power, money and celebrity are bad, sure. A ruthless leader isn't great, but a quiet fixer and right-hand man to the leader is often more dangerous (I believe Shakespeare taught me that). It was an interesting depiction with insightful acting In a "performed piece ": reality was not courted by the staging or the characterisation of the lead roles, it was satirical and cartoonish and yet those studied characters were so well done that it was certainly not Brechtian, we were not ready to get up and judge. That alone is enough for me to recommend it to others. I liked Hayley Squires' script, I think that she could produce something that really pushed boundaries in the future. Leo Bill will be famous as a great actor one day, I am sure of it. Many of the rest of the cast were extremely good too, there was just some little thing that failed to make it glitter, or leave me winded as Show 3 had done.

After this me and my Val-date staggered to the pub and quickly moved onto more liquor and cigarettes and jocular discussion on the affairs of our friends and enemies, unfettered by the storms raging around us. With Show 3, we had been numb for an hour afterwards barely speaking except to discuss the play. And that, my friends.. silencing the cynical, fickle Londoner... is a sign of something truly wonderful...

Secret Theatre: Show 4

Showing at the Lyric, Hammersmith until the 22nd March

To Book:  lyric.co.uk

Images (c) Lyric, Hammersmith 

Channelling Americana at Earlham Street Clubhouse

I spent most of the early noughties wishing I went to an America High School. I wanted the geeks and jocks and cheerleaders, I wanted the peppiness, bitchiness and drama and football games in international sized stadiums. I wanted to vote for Prom Queen. I wanted to hang out in dive bars with jukeboxes, eating pizza and discussing crushes and life with flamboyant syntax and wordiness. I wanted all the boys I knew to look at least 25 with abs-ful bodies and apparent sexual charm and confidence or be nice guys with abstract, intellectual interests. Why did no one I know have keg parties?

Pacey: "Ever stop to think about how much hormonally charged energy you put into the quick quips and biting banter? Your life would be considerably more productive if you took some, what's that word again, oh that's it -- action." - Dawson's Creek

Alas, I was neither American nor in a faux TV show/film reality. Yet I yearned for a taste of this American dream that was so different to the boarding school, books and inexperienced fumblings that was the reality of my early-mid teens. Drinking Bacardi Breezers on a bench whilst my friend snogged a Goth from the local boys boarding school just didn't seem like livin' the teenage dream to me.

The Entrance

So, when I heard about Earlham Street Clubhouse opening in Covent Garden back in November, I knew I had to go immediately, if only to indulge my teenage self. So I trekked my fave drinking pal there on the first Thursday we both had free.. Promising a 90s Beverley Hills teen crossed with East Coast clubhouse(!) vibe and a cocktail menu with such delightful names as Stifler's Mom and Sweet Valley High, I knew it would not disappoint. 

Ceiling Menu

It did not. The cocktails are delicious, (I tried three different ones and they were all good) the barmen are hot and chatty, you can buy pizza by the slice (!) and the retractable menus pull down from the ceiling; practical and kitsch.

(c) ESC

Obviously. there's a jukebox WHICH you can change with your phone after downloading an app - it's usually playing American rock of all eras.. AND if you're lucky enough to get a table (we weren't), on some of them you can flirt with likely gals and guys on other tables with the lickle burger phones (I didn't actually see any of these). LOL. Seriously go there now... Here's a few more crap photos soz...

The décor is uber trends and it's underground.

Serious cocktails....

V & I

Obviously after all those yummy cocktails, we ended up drunk and dancing in Soho... Here's the swilled #selfie...

By the way you can book; we thought you couldn't hence no table, but apparently you definitely can. 

Earlham Street Clubhouse

35 Earlham Street

Covent Garden

London

WC2H 9LD

020 7240 5142

info@esclubhouse.com

www.esclubhouse.com 

PS:

Here are the menus: (I had Rollin' With the Homies & Beauty School Droppout - both delish if you're a wine/champagne fan. Unfortunately we didn't try the pizza - but all I spoke to said it was gooood)

Drinks:

Pizza: