Hello to all you wonderful people!

I wanted to inform you that since May, I have been blogging on a different site - I would very much appreciate it if you came to visit me on:

https://loulabella1.blogspot.com

It's of a very similar nature to this blog but I just find it far easier to use!

I look forward to seeing you!

Loula Love xxx

So, I left my deets online for David Lloyd to get in touch with me (not Mr Lloyd personally!) about a three month free trial I had spotted being promoted outside of his fitness centre.  As I'm trying to "fat-bust" I thought this would be worthwhile for the next few months before the real sun gets here and I can show of some perfectly sculpted pins... (If you haven't picked up on it already, I'm an optimist!)

It was around 7:30pm last night when Kerry, the exceptionally enthusiastic fitness girl/freak, called me back and asked what I wanted to know.  I shall provide you with a script of how the conversation went...

Me:    Ah, well, I drove past your fitness centre today on my way home and saw a promotion outside about a three month free trial.

Kerry:    Three months?  What else did it say?

Me:    I don't know, I was driving at the time.

Kerry:    Are you sure it said it was three months?

Me:    I think so - I could be wrong but I'm sure that's what I saw.

Kerry:    Well, that promotion finished a few weeks ago so that sign shouldn't be there.

Me:    Oh right.  Well, like I said, I could be wrong.

Kerry:    What did it say exactly?

Me:    I don't know.  I was driving so I couldn't stop to check.

Kerry:    Well what sort of gym membership were you after?

Me:    A three month free trial one.

Kerry:    Oh, well, I'm afraid we don't do that anymore.  Can I offer more information about the contracts that we do have?

Me:    Well, to be honest, when I saw the three month trial information *Kerry coughs* I thought it would be the best thing for me as obviously I would like to get fit but there are a few factors that are restricting me from agreeing to sign a contract.  First of all, I suffer from ear, nose and throat problems so I can't breathe as well as I should and, secondly, I'm a student.

Kerry:    Oh right, well, we do do a three month offer - it's £88.00 a month.  As a student, I can't imagine you can afford that though.

Me:    Definitely not - that's my drinking money.

Kerry:    Heaven forbid you should spend the money on your health.

Me:    Exactly.

Kerry:    Is there anything else I can help you with?

Me:    Erm, no, I don't think there is.

Kerry:    OK, thank you for enquiring.

Me:    Yes, thanks.  Bye.

*Kerry has hung up*

I think I'll have to dust off my bike instead...

Ah, a little nugget of fact about the person I have chosen to do a biography on as part of my uni module.

Mona Best, the mother of Pete Best, can actually be identified, perhaps somewhat controversially, as the founder of The Beatles.  Before the band played at the Cavern, Mo created The Casbah Coffee Club in the basement of her house where The Quarrymen (and later The Beatles) would play to an ever-expanding audience of local youths with nowhere to go on a Friday and Saturday night.

John Lennon would often ask to see her father's war medals as he was fascinated by them.  When The Beatles posed for the picture on the covering sleeve of Sgt Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band, Paul, George and Ringo had their own MBE medals but John refused to wear his (later taking it back to Buckingham Palace) so he asked Mona if he could wear her father's medals.  She allowed him to do so and he later returned them to her with a thank you gift...the cash box trophy that is set within the letter L of Beatles in the picture.

So, I pretty much have my funeral planned out.  I want everyone wearing black, weeping and shouting "Why, God, WHY?" at every possible opportunity.  The service itself should be very sad...until we get to the music...

After an indepth account of my life, the vicar will play a tune to the mourners.  That tune is Queen's 'Another One Bites the Dust' https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CWsJcg-g1pg

The service will carry on with some more anecdotes before the next song is played.  That song is The Jam's 'Going Underground' https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AE1ct5yEuVY

After some giddy chattering from the mourners about how this is "Classic Louise", the service will come to an end where the congregation will exit the parlour with the third and final song playing in the background and my coffin being raised toward the sky.  That song is 'Defying Gravity' taken from Wicked: The Musical.  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FlMBcTGJ4YM

I think all songs speak for themselves.

Trouble makers. 

I don't mean the type of trouble makers that light things on fire, do drugs, or play truant.  I actually think these people are spectacularly self-destructive.  Fascinating!  (That's the Freudian in me)

No, I'm actually referring to that one person you know (friend or otherwise) who goes out of their way to cause trouble...for you!  Now, I'm going to relay my own experiences here.  I imagine 99% of people have come across these kinds of people in their lifetime, maybe not suffering the exact same scenario, and will ultimately read this blog in the same outraged fashion as I'm typing it.  Fast paced and, hopefully, with some tourettes-style swearing.

So, to set the scene, this person I have in mind, I haven't seen them for about over a year.  We politely converse on Facebook, relatively sporadically, to see how the other is doing.  Oh, let me just clarify that this person was my best friend for a few years about 5 years ago.  Things happened (her new friend came between us and then she - my friend - got with the lad I really liked!  Classic teen girl dramas!  However, I'd already met Rob so I was very happy in my relationship...still frickin' annoying though!) and we drifted apart.  No arguments, just a general drifting that meant we did not speak as much, and we definitely didn't see each other as much.

Fast forward three or four years to the present day when the sporadic messaging on Facebook occurs.  All fine and dandy but we don't really know much about each other anymore.  We're civil.  We have polite banter.  She still texts my older brother but it's all fine.  I'm happy, she should be happy.  Right?

WRONG!

I'm happy.  I'm very content with my life.  It's ambling along quite nicely.  She is clearly NOT happy.  As you can imagine, it was quite the surprise when my older brother informed me that she had come to pick him up and parked up the road instead of in front of my house.  Why?, I hear you ask.  Well, exactly.  Why, indeed??  Her reasoning for this was because I might be annoyed that she is parked in front of my house.  WTF?  Seriously??  I haven't seen this person for over a year - WHY would it bother me?  And it just goes to show that she does not have a frickin' clue about me.  She knows nothing of my personality.  Her parking in front of my house does not interfere with my life whatsoever.  She is causing unnecessary drama because her life must be that boring!!  Get a life, you loser, and don't try and cause conflict in mine!!

But, the thing that really peeves me off is the fact that she HAS made me bothered about it.  Not her parking in front of my house - she could come and sit on my bed in my dressing gown or even use my toothbrush for all I care (probably a slight exaggeration) - it's the fact that she is trying to make me out as someone who is bothered about stuff like that...to my brother!  Ridiculous.

The girl in question is, in fact, an evil genius!  A mastermind of coming between me and my brother.  Although he originally stated that she clearly hasn't grown up (he's never spoken such truer words), he later told me that he actually thinks I'm the one out of order.  What the ......???  Seriously?  Grow some frickin' loyalty balls, you hoof.  Blood thicker than water?  Yeah, sure...

A round of applause to the losers who deserve each other.  Next time, just don't include me in your pathetic little games.

If anyone has met someone else like this then surely you can appreciate the frustrations channelling through me while I write this.  Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!!!

P.S.  This is a rant that has been required for one of my modules at uni.  It's a true account of what I've experienced recently but I would probably not rant about it like this in real life.  I'm not a massive swearer and I very rarely rant.  C'mon, I'm a girl who should have been living in the 60s, anger is not in my nature.

After a traumatic few weeks for my poorly pooch, I thought it would be worth updating you on how he is doing.  His knick-knacks (or lack of them) seem to be recovering nicely.  Bonus!

However, since his operation, my poor little doggy has been suffering a few epileptic fits.  Devastating stuff!  It's heartbreaking to see such a thing happen and I wish there was something we could do.  He is on tablets to prevent them but he has had a couple of mild attacks since.  We're trialliing the dosage at the moment so that we don't give him too many or too little.  Hopefully we will get them just right but it means that poor Rolls will be on these tablets for the rest of his life.

We (me, Momma J and Poppa J) have done some internet research into epileptic fits within dogs.  It seems that they are fairly similar to human's experiences.  By this I mean that they need to be comforted and reassured of your presence.  They cannot be enticed out of the fit, they need to come out of it on their own.  Almost ten minutes can be traumatic - I've only seen one that lasted a couple of minutes but my parents experienced the more severe ones.  As I said before, heartbreaking.

Rolls always seems somewhat disorientated after his fits but never seems traumatised by them.  The internet does state that it's more traumatic for the people around the animal though.

We are keeping a close eye on him and making sure he has his tablets routinely.  Zeus, our Jack Russell, on the other hand, has other ideas...it seems that he is giving Rolls more of an active-based treatment...

I have GOT to inform you of my fabulous trip to Liverpool (a Christmas surprise from my boyfriend) last weekend where I embarked on a Magical Mystery Tour to all of the Beatles Hot Spots.

First of all, I am going to recommend that if you go to Liverpool for the same reason, book a tour with a taxi company.  It sounds bizarre but it's very personal and you get great information, as well as visits to places that aren't included in the coach/bus tours.  (E.g. The Casbah)

Speaking of the Casbah, this is where we started the tour.  The taxi picked us up from our hotel.  We met the tour guide, a fabulously funny Liverpudlian who made us feel at ease as soon as we got in the car.  I am not going to tell you any information about the tour, apart from where we went to, as it will ruin any surprises for anyone who has not embarked on such a journey yet.

So, the Casbah - this was indeed my favourite place within the tour.  It was deeply fascinating to find out about Mona Best (Pete's mom) and how she created the club that started the Beatles.  Oh yes, this was where it all began - not the Cavern as it is so extensively believed.  We were shown around by Mona's son...Pete's brother.  Fabulous.  First hand accounts about his involvement with the Beatles and encounters that he had with cheeky John, cute Paul, and quiet George.  Amazing.  I'm stopping there - it is a MUST that you visit this place.

We then went to John's house, Paul's house (usually you can look around inside, but this is from around March to November I believe, so we were unable to do so - we're going back later in the year for this purpose), George's house, and Ringo's house(s).  Incredible.  You can certainly see whose family had money and whose didn't!  We also visited Eleanor Rigby's grave, Strawberry Fields, Penny Lane, places where The Beatles and/or the Quarrymen played - and then we visited The Cavern.  All of these places were so moving - to think that The Beatles had walked down the same paths, written songs about a normal looking bus shelter, played gigs in the same areas.  It was so emotional when taking it all in.

We finished in the Beatles museum, which is situated near the docks.  It was packed as high as the ceilings with information and memorabilia about the most famous group in the world...Ever!  The weekend was perfect and I'd do it all again.  If I wasn't so committed to becoming a teacher, I would have certainly have considered becoming a Beatles tour guide.  However, I don't think having a Birmingham accent would have provided as much authenticity to the tourists...

As much as I agree that these "professionals" were wrong to say what they did about Sian Massey (or just incredibly stupid to leave their mics on!), I think the whole thing has been slightly blown out of proportion.

The fact is, men will always say sexist comments about women; and women will always say sexist comments about men.  The battle of the sexes is ongoing, it's got nothing to do with equal rights as both sexes are equally as bitchy to the other!  Fact!

Over the past six months, Tanya on Eastenders has mentioned the size of Greg's...ahem...thing, and also his stamina in the bedroom, which is something that seems to have gone unnoticed.

I'm just saying...

Why, oh why, do some people feel such an urge to sit next to strangers in an empty cinema?  Do they enjoy the sound of rustling popcorn while they watch the film?  Do they wish to steal some of said popcorn?  Whatever the reason, it's annoying!

Luckily, no one sat next to me and my boyfriend yesterday when we finally got the chance to go and watch the new Harry Potter film.  It was close though.  We'd booked our seats at the IMAX and purposely chose two seats that were furthest away from the other people in the cinema.  Not that we want to be unsociable, we just don't want to invade their personal space unnecessarily.

So, there we were, loving the blissful silence eminating from the surrounding seats.  Then, to our horror we saw a family of four get up from the middle of the cinema and move towards the back row, where we were sat.  I watched them with my beady hawk eyes, daring them to sit next to us so I could ask my well rehearsed sarcastic question: Do you want to sit on my lap?

But they by-passed us.  Phew!  I watched after them as they moved toward the end of the row, asking another couple further down to stand up so they could get past (why the other way in the first place remains a mystery)...that's when they sat down.  They sat in the next four seats next to the poor couple they had already disturbed.  I was baffled.  WHY would they do such a thing?  That could have been a first date for the couple - now they had to share their romantic time alone with a family of four.  I was seething and it wasn't even my problem.  How I wished they could have sat next to me so I could have made a point of there being about a hundred spare seats in the cinema.

Why do people do it?  WHY??

Friday was the first time I had seen my oldest friend (and I mean that by the length of time that I have known her, not by her age) in so long.  I was so excited about seeing her, and rightly so, the night was a hoot.

I arrived at her flat at 7:30pm with a bottle of white vino in hand, ready to have a couple of drinks before heading to an engagement party.  My boyfriend had an exam on Saturday so could not come with me as he needed to study; so my friend was my date for the evening!  However, two giddy girls trying to open a bottle of wine (that one with the dodgy neck - I'll reference it later when I remember the name) with a corkscrew that has no arms (one of those ones that you twist into the cork, then it miraculously pops out)...

Needless to say, it never worked that way for us.  We rested the 'flip' part of the corkscrew onto the rim of the neck and pulled - it did not budge.  We tried holding the neck and just pulling the corkscrew upwards - it did not budge.  At one point, I had hold of the bottle and my friend had hold of the corkscrew - it did not budge.  That was more to do, however, with our common sense kicking in and telling us that such a manoeuvre could cause the bottle to break.  We did not risk this; not because of the dangers of glass shattering all over the kitchen, and possibly slashing through our skin, but because that would mean a waste of wine!!  Crazy!

So, we gave up - and with 5 minutes to go before the taxi arrived to take us to the party, we had eight shots of neat Malibu between us and headed out the door...

The party was great!