SO SORRY, that I haven’t managed to fit in a blog! It’s not even that i’m so busy. It’s because i’m currently having to dedicate time, a lot of time to a ‘box’ (I departmentalize my life into boxes..so yeah, it’s an imaginary box, which yes…makes me…a lunatic,) but yes, that I absolutely despise. It’s a ‘box’ that does nothing for me, wastes my time and not even ON my list of life priorities. It is something that i’m shortly going to bundle into a ‘Cya later‘ tote, with a bunch of last seasons stilettos and cast to sea, with a middle finger farewell.
Don’t worry. The ‘box’ isn’t a boy, a personal situation, a friendship, or anything to do with family…..All those things in life make me glisten with a champagne kitten glow…an excitement. The ‘box’ is a work thing…and I adore a bit of work……if it’s something that I have a great deal of passion for. This thing…I want to *kick.* (Really hard in the knackers, whilst holding a diamante collared Chihuahua.)
DON’T DO THINGS THAT YOU DON’T LOVE. IT WASTES YOUR LIFE TIME.
However, it hasn’t really messed up the blog thing, as luckily i have years of archives and I guess you all must be peeking in them for a Wunna land fix. My chick friends are working their ‘doll faces’ off. Firmonnell forgot to change her knickers, I didn’t wear any knickers, Hustle Barbie made gin cupcakes, Fairytale Blond is living her ‘white pickett’ fence of a life, Double B is still calling me a ‘Bitch’ in the name of love…and yes we’re all certainly turning into alcoholics due a hefty work load. Lol. Mel is still in Paris, probably scowling at the French.
(‘Jonezy’…who I used to call ‘Double D’ has just messaged me trying to make like he’s my ‘Gay Best Friend‘ when he’s STRAIGHT. Red flag girls. Safety first! I might be old, but i’m not foolish, even after vino. You can’t ‘befriend’ yourself into my frillies. I’m a sasserilla. Plus, I don’t find my guy friends sexy, i just find them…there, because I put them in a different ‘box.’ Cleverly known as the ‘Friend Zone.’ Hahahah! I’m joking. He’s hilarious. I hugged him when his girlfriend dumped him. He was in actual real life tears over it. Still don’t fancy him though. He might have called me ‘Vile’ at some point.
Anyway, he was trying to tell me that he was just like Love Island Chris…which is odd because I never said that I fancied ‘Love Island Chris?’ I don’t seem to fancy any Love Islanders, even though I can appreciate their hottness…It takes a lot more than that to make me swirl. I’m a glamourous old hag… a ‘personality’ girl…yet can’t stand it if you’re not ‘eye candy.’ Hahahaha!
Anyway, after having being on an ITV2 reality show, I know the score and I can imagine how excited they are to be on the show. Yet, I kinda just see them actors, ‘doing a job’ because that’s exactly how it is. It’s definitely not scripted. Yet it is absolutely story-boarded behind the scenes by production. Even they won’t know that. And well…it has to be. It’s certainly well cast and each cast member knows what they’re meant to be doing or the character that they’re meant to portraying. They know that they need and want to stay on the show. They know that if they don’t perform they’ll just get kicked off….and that will have nothing to do with a public vote and will purely be based on performance and when a producer thinks your time is up! That’s entertainment. I love that the nation has gone crazy over it….
‘Jonezy’ reckons he is Love Island Chris. His exact message read,
‘..he’s just bigger, and better looking and now rich and famous.’ )
Moving on…. (Ooooh, I’ve just seen that I got 2am missed calls from Firmonnell. HATE THAT I MISSED THEM. She was out in Leeds on the tinsel. We could’ve had drunk banter.)
But yes, on Thursday…I tinkered my glamourous self down to Piccolino in Sheffield. A divine Italian restaurant. Its light, it’s airy, it’s calm, the food is good and the service AGAIN (it’s the Italians) is impeccable.
I popped down to VIP event for a couple of hours, and delighted in fresh pours of Prosecco and the most beautiful canapes on the open air terrace, whilst charming waiters/waitresses and perfectly smiling managers glamourously sauntered by, offering me little bits of life with love and excitement for me being there. (I like a bit of hoo haa, when I arrive. Lol)
Perfect evening, perfect weather…and the first time I had actually ever sampled a bit of Piccolino. I do Gino’s a lot…and you all know that…and yes, it’s a very different ‘vibe’ at Piccolino’s, but it’s very classy, peaceful vibe. It’s kinda executive in a stylish ‘Italian family’ sort of way.
But anyway, I went on my own. It was only a couple hours and well I’m the height of ‘Little Miss Social’ so I’m never one to feel terrified by showing up somewhere just ‘Me, Myself and I’….I’m Chrissie Wunna…I’m independant…There’s prosecco…it’ll be fine. I make buddies EASILY. I’m like a kitty magnet..Straight away an elderly lady, who was well in her sixties and her husband, both with Fitbits on, came to chatter to me. They were educated, fine diners, very much in love and straight laced. They were very different to me…and I loved them for it. And really cared about the things you should care about in life. She looked at me, whilst the waitress poured us more champagne and said,
‘There’s just something about you. I saw you and just had to come over to talk to you..’
As she spoke, two stylish young guys in modern suits tried to catch my eye and smooze past me with *winks,* before sitting at a table behind me. I didn’t say one word to them throughout the event….not because I didn’t want to say ‘Hi.‘ Yet because if YOU ARE A GUY AND YOU ARE ON THE SMOOZE....You don’t wink at a girl and hope that she comes up to you. That’s lame and makes it look as though you’re not brave. I don’t like a scaredy cat because i’m BRAVE. If you are unable to create an opportunity to go up to the girl and personally woo her or speak to her…..then fine, lose out. We as chicks adore a man who will go for it without fear. Win or lose. All girls do.
After that, I took a glamourous swirl around, as a waitress poured me more bubbles.
‘I’m going to end up getting trashed if you keep this up!’
I swirled back and the people infront of me had changed. (The general crowd was a very glamourous, fun, executive adult crowd. I enjoyed it because I got to be the naughty, cheeky one.)
A young 20 something girl, Russian, but warm, came towards me. She worked at the restaurant, yet was on a day off and with a plain, yet comfortable gentleness, she began to tell me her story.
I think 3 weeks ago, her lovely Italian boyfriend (who also works at Piccolino) took her away to see his family and as his Mum asked her to dress nicely, one warm Italian evening, they both ventured to a beautiful restuarant enchanted within cliffs, as the sea surrounded their views. That night he asked her to marry her…This is after she had been in England with him 2 years. (They had been dating for 4 years, yet the first year was long distance. She was in Russia. But they did it. They flipping did it.) He had the waiter place the engagement ring in the bottom of her champagne. She didn’t notice it was there, so the waiter had to pull it out for her. Lol.
‘Did you know he was going to propose? I feel like we always know and pretend we don’t??’
‘I honestly had got so used to it NOT ever happening. It had been so long…that it didn’t even ONCE enter my mind…BUT NOW I’M ENGAGED!!’
It was so sweet because she was beaming with starry eyes and a relief that only a girl would know about. She had her man. The Italian was smiling like he was so proud of himself for finding a wifey, being an ultra romantic and couldn’t wait to get the show on the road. There was a fresh, new happiness about them. Everything was very Italian and traditional. They’re having a raw bar display, on a boat at their wedding, and women making fresh mozzarella around you…Beautiful.
Then I ruined everything and *sassed* on in, by telling them my very HOLLYWOOD story of ‘love life’ 🙂 which kinda broke the ice, added a bit of fun and prevented me from getting lulled into the fairytale of love. SAFETY FIRST! (I say it always.)
‘I’ve been married three flipping times…so yeah…don’t let that ruin your story…Just make like i haven’t drank 40 proseccos and blurted that out with Piccolino canapes. You two are great! You’ll be fine! I’m just headed for my FOURTH time lucky.’
Then in strutted another Sasserilla and I loved her. She tinkered in with her ‘green/yellow’ neon bright, all ‘ooh’ all ‘laa’ and all full of spunk. (Not that kinda spunk…Lol…as that would be awkward with a moazzarella ball.) She was older and feisty, filled with love, a PR machine and punchy with a glamorous, witty touch. There was a definite independence to her, a light…and she cracked me UP. She was accompanied by her husband Jim, who adored her, and himself was filled with banter and this love for his wife.
‘My sister got married in Italy and the wedding planner was shit, really shit. I turned into a dragon lady bitch, took it over and made it the best wedding alive. I used to work in events. I couldn’t take the shitness. I got married in Australia and because Jim made me. I told him I was never getting married. He asked me what my ideal wedding was. I said on a beach a million miles away IF I WAS GOING TO DO IT and he replied with a *when we gonna do it then.* Jims been married three times. I’m Lisa by the way..’
Both the Russian and ‘Lisa the Sasserilla’ began to talk about how they met their husbands and how their fairytale panned out. I listened and smiled…and then blurted out hilarious bits of inappropriateness when I felt it was necessary.
I love being surrounded by great couples. It made me watch and relaize how much I could do ‘forever’ with my version of the perfect guy. Lisa then went on to discuss my love life with me…and how everything would be okay in the end, with a wink. Then we opted for making fun of my sorry ass, as I’d have to laugh for crying.
ADD PROSECCO HERE.
‘I’m sure GOD is trying to tell me to never get married. I just pick badly. I’m loving. I don’t get it…’
‘He’ll come for you…When you don’t expect him to. men are always slower off the mark. It takes them more time to realize things.’
Before I knew it, all the Piccolino champagne, cocktails had been sipped and all the luxury hand made canapes had been sampled. That was my cue to leave one of the finest Italian restaurants in Sheffield. A glamorous, divine haunt, where families or sexy date nights could swirl as one. The restaurant still had life, it was actually quite busy as diners were sauntering in for some of the best Italian food they could find.
I said my goodbyes and air kissed the masses, as I tottered out in my kitten heels and fitted navy pencil dress, whilst waving. As soon as the air hit me in a gush, I beamed and looked around me. I realized how lucky I was. I mean GOD, if I never find forever love….at least I can still say unlike many, I am living one of the best lives ever. I feel like an emotionally successful human, dashed in cheekiness.
I reached down to my phone and sent a message reading,
It’s weird because after an evening at Piccolinos, and being immersed in a glamourous mist of love talk, (the last ting Sassy Lisa said to me was ‘Be patient..’) the first human to come into my head was the human that I sent my message to.
We sort of briefly messaged back and forth, but as I did, some guy, an Indian guy, who was somewhat stylish stopped me…mid message.
‘I never do this, but i just wanted to stop you and tell you that you’re beautiful. I’ve never seen a more beautiful girl. Where are you going right now? What are you doing? What do you do? Here’s my card if you want to call me…or work with me, I’m in finance…or even date me…lol’
It sort of flung me out of my fairytale messaging…..It woke me up from a ‘love talk’ mist. I never fancy finance men because I find adding and doing sums BORING. LOL.
‘Sorry. I’m just going home. I’m been at Piccolinos. I’m headed back on the train now. Just waiting for the taxi. But thank you, that’s so sweet. I’m honestly really flattered…i’m just…’
(I just didn’t fancy him. 🙂 )
Got into a cab, bought a gin and tonic in a can at Sheffield train station…Got hit on by a homeless druggie, who I sat down on a bench and told off…
‘Look you need to pull yourself together….tell me your story. You do know that anything can change if you try…I don’t have change to give you. I definitely don’t want to date you. I just want you to find your happy, because it doesn’t matter whether you’re you or me, we’re all the same….I just hide my bad times better.. and you’r ebeing weak, when you could be strong dude. Hahah.’
Homeless Man: ‘I have loved talking to you, you’ve made my entire year. Where you going?’
Me: Home dude. And no, you’re not coming…Lol.’
Got on the train…and got my pretty little self, all the way home.
Such a wonderful evening.
I’m a really lucky girl.
Hope you are too!
I’m snapchatting today.
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