Firstly, hi. It’s been months since I’ve blogged and that’s simply because Thomas has been working away all summer and so we haven’t had time to fit in any alphabet dates…. aaaaand in the mean time I didn’t take it upon myself to tick anything else off my (soon to be re-assessed and re-jigged) Bucket List. Shame on me.
Secondly, “L Date?!” I hear you cry, “but what happened to the K Date?!”. Well, short story is that Tom’s a moron. The longer story involves me being a moron too. Basically, Tom planned part of the L date months ago before he realised that was meant to be my letter to plan, so then we just agreed that I would do M instead and we all just forgot about K. THEN, FT was like FEAR NOT I will plan a K date too (as that was meant to be his letter anyway) and then tried to convince me to do a 3 hour round trip to goKart for 15 minutes on a Monday night (because it was the only free night we had pre L Date) and call it a job done. No pal, death by tiny kiddie kart (will I even fit in one?!) is not how I plan on leaving this earth. ESPECIALLY not on a Monday. THEN he tried to convince a load of our friends to come along and spend £60 each on two 15 minute races because “it’s a proper bargain when you go as a group” (really!!). No Thomas, ya plonker. So, now we are doing K after L. And I’m planning K. And it may or may not (it absolutely will not) involve overpriced buggy racing in the arse end of nowhere. After the K date we will be going back to our original plans and letters after that. Capeesh?! No me neither.
FYI, as a quick aside, that right royal shambles of coordination and planning that you’ve just read above absolutely sums Tom and myself up. It’s us in a nutshell. I honestly wonder how we get through life. I’m all talk with my planning, diaries, spreadsheets galore but they’re all just a cover up for the fact that I’m totally and utterly scatty and I never get anywhere even close to on time. And Tom relies on me to organise his life. So we’re pretty much doomed. If we ever manage to have children, not misplace them and get them to school on time even once in their entire lives then we will be winning.
ANYWAY, our L Date:
Fat Tom bought tickets for us to see LaLa Land (one of my all time favourite films ever ever ever) with a Live orchestra at The Colston Hall. It was only in Bristol for one night and that night was the eve of our 11 year anniversary so it was a double celebration.
Standard us, we both rushed back from work to allow us time to get all dolled up and then spent the 45 minutes we had allocated to shower and get ready chatting about how much we love Otis and how he’s the coolest dog in the world (we discuss this often) and looking for my only pair of winter boots (it was raining) that we STILL can’t find. It’s really sad. So then we had a mad dash to actually get ready and out of the house and ended up running REALLY late. We had thought we might try and eat somewhere before the show, or at least go for cocktails. Alas no, there was no time. You know the opening scene from Four Weddings and a Funeral where they’re rushing to the wedding and the first 5 minutes of script is pretty much just them saying “fuck”?? It was like that.
OH. And, again, standard us. We lost the tickets. So we had to beg nice box office lady for new tickets which ate into our queuing for horrendously overpriced drinks time. So we raced to the bar while the Great and Powerful Colston Hall Oz calmly said through the speakers “the show is about to start, please make your way to your seats immediately” (what he meant was “hurry the hell up, some of us have homes we want to get back to”) and then I was like “aaargghh I need a wee” so Fat Tom was like “you pee, I’ll get the drinks, what are you having?!” So I, whilst hopping about, spluttered the words “gin. Gins. Plural. Two. Aaaah. Gin and slim. Twoooo times gin though. Aaah” and then I ran. Obviously, what I was asking for there was a double gin and slim. When I returned what I got was two separate gins. Two glasses. Full to the brim. Bless him. Fine though, not an issue and I was very grateful, apart from the fact that I was a terrible barmaid in my youth and I lack any dexterity or coordination so “Two Gins Gina” as Tom called me all night, then had to run for our seats (definitely got judged by ticket stamping lady) and quietly and subtly make our way through the already packed out, seated and quiet theatre to our seats. It was really bloody awkward and at least two people got some gin in their laps. Obviously our seats were right at the wrong end of a row and very near the front (wonderful seats) so we had to interrupt everyone and clamber over them with my two gins in hand going “sorry, sorryyyy, don’t mind us, fuck, sorry, oh fuck shit bugger arse I’ve just spilt my gin on you, fuck, sorry, sorrrryyyy……there was bad traffic…couldn’t find anywhere to park…. sorrypleasedonthateme”. FT couldn’t help me as he had his giant rum and Coke AND two enormous bags of crisps for himself as a little snack. HOW awkward is it, by the way, when people just stand up in their seat instead of move out of the way so you have to squeeze past them whilst trying to make as few as possible body parts make direct contact with them. Do you go forward or back? Is either one of those ways less awkward? Is it better to make direct eye contact with your victim as you press your boobs against them or is it better to turn the other way and let your ass take the brunt of the shame? I’ve definitely felt MORE popular than I did in that theatre that evening.
So, we got to our seats, we sat down, Tom tried to silently open and crunch his crisps while I downed both of my gins pretty much immediately because I wanted them out of my face, they had caused me humiliation and shame and I was starting to resent them. Two Gins Gina was no more. Drunk Debbie took her place. I don’t know how two gins affected me so much, unless Tom was REALLY confused and got me two doubles?! By the time it got to the interval I did that thing where you think you’re totally sober until you sit on the loo and then you start smiling to yourself and having a chat in your noggin about how bloody marvellous life is and you love everyone and this loo seat is SO comfy and that door is moving back and forth and actual those floor tiles are vibrating, what a cool bathroom, and then 5 minutes has passed and everyone thinks you did a poo as you took so long to have your drunken wee so you snigger to yourself about how hilarious this whole scenario is. You know? I blame the fact that we didn’t eat before the show and that I hadn’t had a proper drink since August.
The show was AMAZING. Truly one of the best things I’ve ever seen. I grinned through the entire thing and sang along and just had the best time. The live orchestra were incredible. I kept forgetting they were there as it all blended together so seamlessly. If any of you love LaLa Land and/or live music or musicals or fancy orchestras then you need to book tickets to see this show before it finishes. Their tour has only just started so I expect there are still tickets going. Go go go!
Tom loved it too. He loves anything live and also wants to be Ryan Gosling when he grows up (I’m fine with this life goal of his) so all in all it was a great success. I don’t know how to write about the orchestra in a fancy pants way, I’m not musical at all and I’m not sure what I’m supposed to say about them apart from the conductor guy had a very lovely back-of-head. And bottom. And there weren’t any duff notes.
After the show we wanted to go for some food and I had asked the people on my Instagram (@emiliewaffles) earlier that day for recommendations of foodie places or nice restaurants that began with L (Lidl was my favourite suggestion) but every one that we called said they had stopped serving by the time the show finished. Lame.
So we went for Late Night Sushi at our favourite place (Nomu) instead. It was fit. End of.
Tom wanted to carry on the L Date plans into Saturday and I obliged because I’m good like that. It was our anniversary too so I put the diet on hold for a day and just enjoyed allll the food. We had breakfast at a place called Lockside which is in a really hidden spot under a road but right opposite the river. It’s a hidden gem and I know that LOADS of people rave about it so I had high hopes. High hopes exceeded, it was just perfect and I can’t wait to go back again. We went really early (8am is early for a Saturday is it not?!) because we were rudely awoken at 6.30am by the Ocado delivery man. I had forgotten about that, obviously, and I don’t know what in the world possessed me to order it for that time. When he knocked I was already awake and reading in bed so I didn’t have quite the same shock as Tom…. Otis barked (and his bark is very deep and loud, manly bastard) so Tom woke with a start and just ran for the stairs without a second thought. He said it dawned on him later and he got a sinking feeling when he realised that he’s not even sure he had any pyjamas on and that the Ocado man could quite possibly have been greeted by naked Thomas and his dangly bits……
Anyway, breakfast was lush and chilled and the perfect start to our day.
After breakfast we went to see Tom’s sister and our nieces and meet their dog’s Little Dogs (puppies) before they go off too their new owners. LOOK AT THEM. It’s a good job they were all sold as otherwise I definitely would’ve been introducing you all to baby Lionel (Richie – all our pets are named after singers) and we absolutely do not have the time or space for a puppy right now. Probably.
Next we went for a dog walk… which doesn’t begin with an L. It was Long though. Then we went home and napped. Then we went shopping. Again, no L’s so I shan’t bore you with the details.
BUT THEN Tom took us to Lona (one of the restaurants we tried to get to the night before) on Gloucester Road (for Bristol people) and on my sweet lord the food was out of this world. We will bypass the fact that I’ve been ill since (think I got glutened) because it was SO good that I will forgive them. I think when I said I didn’t want the bulgar wheat or naan bread with mine that they just thought I was being charitable so they included it anyway. Obviously I didn’t eat those bits but I guess there just have been some cross contamination. May I please just say that being coeliac or gluten intolerant is really bloody shit and I hate it. If you’re just doing it for fun/because it’s trendy/because Americans say it makes you thinner then stop being an absolute banana and go and eat a doughnut immediately. Thanks.
We got the food as a takeaway because we’ve recently purchased an OtisCam (best £22 I’ve ever spent) and so we had spent the last two hours watching him wander around the house and stand at the window like a giant majestic beast waiting for our return and we felt guilty. So we ate the delicious (if a little poisonous) food on our sofa, with our fur child at our feet, and watched Tin Star. Perfect evening. Perfect L Date. Lush lush lush. I’ve missed Alphabet Dating this summer and I can’t wait for the next date already…..
Over and out ✌🏼💛