high heels and sandwiches

unwelcomed deep sleeps aboard the last train home and hangovers from hell whilst working = a pretty shit 24 hours. well to be honest last night was absolutley lovely until the train sleeping incident. had a quick gym sesh, feeling very energised after munching chocolate fudge cake with my friend at work. afterwards I put on my electric blue, spindly heeled shoe/boots and met my two friends from work for a meal out. it took us two garlic breads and a bowl of olives, plus a definite glass of wine or two before we'd even begin to decide upon what we wanted to eat from the massivly extensive menu...to be honest we were probably too busy giggling over the cute teddy we'd bought my friend as a 'leaving work' present. had to wait ages for more food, but it didn't hinder our fun, the drinks were flowing and we were too busy chatting away to notice our grumbling tummys.

got a little tipsier (to put it mildly) than planned... i blame it on waiting for food heehee. hurried wobbily to the train station to just catch the last train home.. plenty of embarrasing moments as i attempted to run up and down the station stairs in my shoes. finally boarded the train and rang my very kind daddy who said he'd retrieve me from the station. however i then proceeded to prompty fall fast asleep.. head probably unflatteringly lolling into the aisle.. god i hope i didn't snore! awoke suddenly thinking i was back.. but no, when i peered worriedly out of the window the train announcement confirmed my stupidity... yup i had slept through my stop on the last train home. then made second big stupid mistake of the night (maybe 3rd actually if the first was the volume of wine consumed) as i rang home instead of my dad's mobile. this then caused massive angry correspondance with mother and caused hugmonous arguments.

so this morning i awoke with terrible, sleep deprived hangover which combined with more arguments left me trudging to work feeling just like one huge, self-induced headache. worked the till most of the day.. best job for me really.. i could use it as a leaning post for my poor alcohol abused body (ok maybe a little over dramatic...) extremely mooching day, generally feeling sorry for myself followed by feeling bad that i was being so moany and useless to everyone else. got very ill mid afternoon... started to ponder on those unrealistic thoughts; "i vow never to drink again... lord just stop making me feel soooo bad!" Left work early and cheered myself up with maltesers and a trip to the flower shop (don't know why but i LOVE shopping for flowers) to find a peace offering for my mum. struggled home up the hill from station (didn't want to start asking for a lift...) with a umbrella, two bags (all my clothes from yesterday) and my bunch of flowers. flowers worked! hurrah and all is now peaceful at home with delicious homemade thai smells emanating from the kitchen mmmmm..............

red wine, the sofa and my laptop perched on my knee as I watch trashy tv; the perfect anedote to an absolutely rubbishy crap day. ok so i started off extremely irratable... but the rest of the day did not in any way attempt to rise me out of my self deprivating bad mood. shuffled down the hill (scarf clad) to the train station, only to be greeted by those ominous orange men on the tracks. as i rounded the corner hoping and praying and even promising those above that i would be good (until lunchtime...) if those orange men didn't mean my train would be late, i peered up at the station screen... HURRAH! orange men weren't the all terrible omen... by the way I hate trains... officially... although they have actually behaved themselves quite well today.

ok so maybe you're thinking my train joy may have brightened my mood.. nah.. my book dissapointed me on the journey, heroine got all mopey about men, and im VERY anti-men for a few weeks due to post break up with the ex. talking of which (men by the way, not the ex), my funniest and most embarassing moment of the day concerned the latter and caused a great amount of laughter between my friend and I at work. For the past half an hour, I'd had that sensation (without wanting to feel vainly big-headed) that a guy was watching me from afar. After realising that I knew him, i changed my opinion of him; from weird stalker guy to nice friendly waiter from next door, i forgot... Thirty minutes later whilst serving one of those slightly cocky table of regulars but who are charmingly quite nice, I heard my name being called and a voice calling out if he could please have my number. Glancing strickenly at the table of witty businessmen i had just been speaking to, i threw a glance at what I thought was a 'friendly waiter guy' and squealed "Not NOW!" and ran off in the saftey of serving another table. God knows what the business men thought...

what followed for the remained of the afternoon, with my foul mood still intact, was a cafe absolutley full to the brim of annoyingly fussy customers, including a table of five americains intent of pestering me with the individual ingredients of every single dish we serve. my reward to myself for dealing with such 'lactose-gluten-meat-free/intolerent' people, was to treat myself to a nice cup of soup of the way to my spanish class and allow my gaze to once again rest on hot guys... ahhh what they must think of me.. oh well at least i have my red wine and the sofa and my lovely place to rant and rave. xx

two delicious culture-fed gorge-fests in 48 hours! not bad going... not written for a few days so after the beginning of my week, working hard in the gym and my spanish class (well giggling and attempting spanish conversation with hot guys isn't that hard work) i thought i definitly deserved a few drinks out with my favourite girls. therefore thursday night saw an evening of munching thai with my little sis (not so little, she's only a few years younger than me) hence we shopped, sipped mulled wine in the manchester markets and finally found ourseleves in a cheap little studenty thai restaurant. here we nibbled prawn crackers (yum) dunked veggie spring rolls in sweet chilli sauce (mmmmm) and worked our way through humongous plates of tofu pad thai (double yum) As you can guess we trudged our way back to the train station feeling very very pogged. it didn't stop me buying a tiny weeny (honestly!) thortons chocolate while we waited for the train hee hee...

i DEFINITLY woke up with the 'friday feeling' yesterday, really couldn't prise myself out from under my covers and spent the entire day feeling lazy, unmotivated to do absoulutly anything. i did however feel extremely overjoyed all day too as it was friday which entailed night out and mega lie-in the next morning. my friend and i managed to leave work early and after getting changed in the toliets we set off for tapas and wine in the centre of manchester. getting changed at work isn't exactly like the 3am girls changing into their sparkly tops and stilletos for the celebrity party they're about the blag their way into.. no our toliets (well 'toliet' singular) are very un-chic and on leaving we get stared at, due to morphing from apron-clad deli girl to high heels and lipstick. at least they don't have to spray any lovely 'pine scented' fragnaces due to the remains of our Dior perfume. we spent the next 5 hours perched at a little table in an authentic greek/spanish (not sure) tavena bar with a bottle of house red and a few plates of yummy tapas.

the absolutely scrummy warm pitta bread piled with roast veggies, humous and falafel reminds me of a rant i've been meaning to discuss for a while.... BREAD??!! i work in a sandwich shop and 'viola' we have a lot of bread (no kidding!) and i'm the only english girl who works there during the week, the rest of my friends are excitingly from all different easten european countries, which provides them (and me) with much entertainment as they teach me various words in their language which i promptly forget. so anyway, i can't believe how many hundreds and thousands of different names there are for various shapes and sizes of bread... and if it's hard for me imagine the problems they find! take for example the small round bread used for bacon, sausages etc...:

barm cake (or barm): the name i call it, plus everyone born and bred in the north west and the name we teach to every poor newcomer who works at the deli. completely and utterly impossible for any southerner to commredhend ever using this name.

bap: southern equivilant. i would only ever hear this word used by men (and definitly not of my generation) talking about women's boobs.

muffin: muffin??!! excuse me? a muffin is one of two varieties and defintly never the latter form. should instead be used for either a deliciously morish, bad but sweet cake full of fruit or chocolate that prompts the name of 'muffin-top' for fat girls who's extra weight falls over the top of their jeans. either this or a little small bread toasted with butter, usually termed an 'english muffin'.. very yum.

roll: hate this name.. very confusing, very unspecific and always feel like raising an eyebrow (if i actually could) at any customer using this word. without the cocky eyebrow raise i always proceed to question them as to whether they are referring to barmcake or baguette, both quite 'roll shaped' in their individual ways.

bun: fair enough a bun is a bun, this is deemed acceptable to use.

... i think they are more but my brain has failed me on my saturday morning lie in due to my single day off in the week. i will update when i think or hear more... (maybe i should keep a list in my apron pocket) so anyhow.. this is only for one type of bread!!!!! imagine the poor confusion of my deli-girls surronding the same number of various names for a bagette!!...

that's enough of my bread rambling and renditions of my evenings out over the past few days... i'm off to enjoy a very very lazy saturday in a new cafe with my mum and tonight having an evening in with my sister, her boyfriend and best friend (back from uni for the weekend) having our very own mini-dinner party. yep.. it's italien tonight.. third country in three days.. english food - poof boring!!

woke up with that monday morning; "i just can't move out of my unbelivably warm foetal position into an igloo of a house!" feeling. near suicide incident as the wind (which had already completely destroyed any attempt of my looking nice today) nearly threw me onto the train tracks. so head down, scarf nearly up to my eyes to salvage my poor winter-torn skin, i shuffled to work, only to find it wasn't even much warmer as the door seemed to want to stay open of its own accord for the interity of the morning. hands wrapped around foiled jacket potatoes discussing a winter uniform of cute jackets, my 'deli girls' and I spent our morning thinking up ways to swap places with the chefs for the privilage of standing anywhere in close proximity of an oven. only then did i hear on the radio that the rest of the UK aparently had snow... so unfair that we had to endure the same conditions without watching pretty little snowflakes falling down outside.... ahhhh....

so while i spent my morning concerned about my poor nose growing pinker and colder by the second, i spent my evening in my very first spanish class! buones noches (havn't done much spelling yet) everyone. throughly enjoyed myself with 9 other complete spanish novices as we attempted to understand any single word our wonderfully enthusastic teacher spoke in her bubbly and mindblowingly speedy spanish. so as i ascended the steps back into the cold, i felt much warmer with the languge of the sun (well random phrases) preoccupying my mind... perhaps it will go with my salsa hee hee...

alcohol fueled midnight munchies last night = missing half a pomegranete and pineapple meringue this morning. went out last night with friends and drank to my recent arrival into singledom. lots of salsa involved, not just in the huge pile of nachos we (well mainly moi) devoured in wetherspoons but later on the dance floor with my gay best friend to ricky martin... i know??!! so after gazing at hot men (through chardonnay tinted glasses) and pretending i have an ounce on talent in the art of salsa dancing i arrived home.... hungry.

work was uneventful today... usual sunday hangover (although distinctly improved on last week's) but a second monthful of jalopenos in twenty four hours (nachos being the first) suddenly brought my brain back to life. trying to get home however was extrememly eventful, particularly the entertaining stand-off between a crowd of boozy loudmouths and a poor, terribly well spoken geeky type trying to quieten them. so not only was I and my fellow train audience stuck on a train being quietly amused but we were actually stuck... yep the driver hadn't even bothered to show up. when i finally managed to board a train that had some means of making it leave the station, I endured thirty minutes of a little boy pulling funny faces at me in the window whilst trying gain a bit of the sleep i lost last night... ah well sleep can wait, little boy seemed to be having much fun.

decided to forfit gym for yet more sleep, or as is more my style; falling asleep on the sofa whilst watching rubbish television, claming that i am actually awake and do not need to ascend the stairs and actually go to bed. so that meringue is not going to be worked off on the treadmill just yet... maybe i should attempt the salsa again, would be more more fun.

lost a guy, gained a blog! I've never written one before, it's kinda exciting, wonder if anyone will actually read this. well i woke up this morning feeling slightly sick, firstly from losing a boyfriend of 8 months but secondly and probably more truthfully from the amount of chocolate ice cream i gorged afterwards. Why do lovely things go with terrible situations? i.e breaking up with my guy in public = chocolate bananas in the manchester christmas markets. The latter were actually completely and utterly delish but didn't quite manage to compensate and cheer me up, resulting in poor random (and quite hot) strange men asking me if im ok in the middle of the street. I spose this was called for as I might have been slightly swaying (red wine), puffy eyed (yes unfortunately i am a weak person and shed tears over a man grrrrrrrr) and sniffing whilst facing a wall taking deep breaths. God the man must have thought i was a lunatic??!!

so back to today... well it's my only day off from my current job, deli girl come waitress in the centre of manchester. i know what you're thinking.. wow! (sacastic intotion here) but don't worry, the art of making the perfect sandwich is not my lifelong ambition. I am in fact only raising money in my gap year before jet setting off across the world..................! not actually being sarcastic here.

so it's back to work tomorrow.. guyless, more sandwiches to make and probably with a horrendous hangover if i consume too much anti break up tequila tonight whilst staring at hot guys. ah well....... his hair needed cutting anyway. xx