Three years on...

The tenth of November 2012 marks three years since my dad died.

However many days/weeks/months/years pass, I still miss him the same as I did the day he died.

However, I'm a realist.  I accept that everyone & everything must cease to exist at some point.

But I will never forget all those that have passed through my life.

I yearn for you, from the depth of my soul
I feel you leave & I know I need to let go
I cannot contemplate life now you're gone
The feeling of emptiness sweeping along
The distance between us will be incomplete
I feel lost & alone, you're forever asleep
How can this be, that you've finally left
Promised me you'd be there & now I'm bereft
I feel an empty hole looming towards me
Ready to swallow me whole & consume me
My emotions are a havoc of confusion & care
For the love of someone, who's no longer there
How can you love someone who no longer exists
The feelings live on, but the body is gone
The soul surrenders the body, but leaves a remain
Memories are never enough to contain
All the emotion that gets left behind
When the one that you love, cannot continue the fight

Oh that bitch is cray!

Popped up to London on Friday to see my first flatshare!  Unfortunately, it wasn't quite living up to my expectations.  It was exceptionally small, dark & they had no communal area!  Granted I do tend to cosy up in my bedroom most evenings when I'm in, but still!

I felt a little disappointed & so to alleviate my woes, Lady Rawlinson, her friend Lauren & I went for cocktails in Kennington at this great little place called the Brown Derby.  On the outside it looks like an old pub, but when you walk in, it's all old skool fabulous.

They had top hats for lights, mannequins draped in vintage fur, old black & white movies playing on the big screen & a DJ spinning electro swing.  But most importantly, they served cocktails!

Unfortunately cocktails led to wine, which led to making friends, which led to more wine.  A fatal combination which evidently leads to one very drunk Alix.  Which equally leads to awfully cringe drunk messages to Beard.  Oh dear, dear, dear.

I tend to find, I can usually hold my shit together & act relatively 'normal' for about a good month.  After that, the cracks tend to start showing & I turn all kinds of crazy!  This is when I either break up with whichever unfortunate soul I'm currently with, or they persevere to such an extent that I get past the crazy & go back to being the fierce bitch I actually am...some of the time.

Currently we're in the crazy bitch phase.  I think this has been greatly aided by the immense stress of moving.  Myself & stress do not go well together.  But I would like to point out, that I have been 100% open & honest about my crank tendencies to Beard since the first date.  So by rights, this should really not be held against me.  Totes will though...

Amongst all this cranktastic behaviour, I have at least found happiness in another possible flatshare.  This time in Brixton.  I won't rest my heart on it, but all my fingers & joints are crossed.  The one thing that has made everything better, is Sir Fleming agreeing to let me couch surf at his, if I don't find anywhere before I start work on the 1st December.  Which means all is not lost if Brixton falls through!

To add to Sir Fleming's good deeds of late, he's also growing a 'tache for Movember.  So if you feel like donating to help men's ability to keep ladies happy & making babies, here's the link!

We watch things on VCRs

Apologies for my absence, the past few months have been nothing but crazy talk!  As some of you will know, my dad died on the tenth of November 2009 & right on cue, every Autumn since, I start to shut down.  It's like I'm subconsciously going through the grieving motions.

This is normally where I make rather rash decisions.  The first year was to quit my job, leave my flat, move in with my mother, who lives on the edge of nowhere & save up to go traveling.  Unfortunately my life affirming travel plans turned into five weeks of partying with PDiddy, with Eleanor in the South of France.  Not quite what I had envisioned, but fun nonetheless.

Then the following year, I simply fell apart & ended up medicated for seven months.  That lead to no partying at all.  This was less fun.

This year it appears I'm going all out & packing up once again to move to London.  Casual.  I finally spoke out about my life grievances to my manager at work & she pushed me into a transfer to one of the company's London branches.  Not entirely sure why I didn't just do this before, but hey.  So now, as of the first of December I shall be working & living in London.

Of course, I'm not usually known for being organised.  However, after a brief meltdown, I did eventually pull my finger out & am now pretty much ready...Bar having somewhere to live.  Therefore November shan't be spent doing my usual campaigning for Movember, but instead, attempting to find myself a flatshare rather pronto!

In the midst of all this mayhem, my favourite person Miss Wall, from the fabulous The Tea Drinking English Rose, invited me along as her plus one, to Laura Ashley's Blog's First Birthday!  (That's such a mouthful!)

Situated in a room above their Kings Road store was a hub of Christmas fueled excitement.  Catered for by the Vintage Patisserie, we nobbled copious amounts of lemon scones, adorned with lavender clotted cream & rose brownies.  I may have overindulged a little.

I especially liked the vodka infused jasmine tea we were served in little vintage tea cups & saucers.  One can never deny the allure of a cocktail in a teacup!  I made sure to have several refills!

The music was provided for by the beautiful Liz Lawrence, who was just magnificent live!  A completely acoustic set, just her & a guitar.  Makes me even sadder that I'm tone deaf.

Despite my utter phobia of being photographed, I have randomly made a new best friend in JB, a photographer no less.  He made a valiant effort to film a small segment with me, but alas, after several hundred takes, mainly of me laughing, he gave up.  We settled for life long friendship instead.  Seemed only fair.

And just to keep you entirely updated; I have finally found a suitable manshape to fill the void where one once stood.  He is tall, skinny jean wearing (obvious essential), tattooed & bearded.  Everything my lil heart desires.  Although, his chosen profession, of which I shan't divulge, is completely ridiculous & I am not currently sure if it's working in his favour or not.  But hey, it beats dating an accountant...I should know!

My only issue is, I find myself being entirely guarded.  Which I hate.  I'm upfront, ballsy & completely honest.  I am the first to admit, I wear my heart on my sleeve.  Unfortunately, this past year has left me battered & bruised & now my ability to trust that someone won't emotionally wreck me, is well, null & void.  I guess only time will tell if he likes me enough to persevere through my bullshit.  [sigh]