THE CUBAN BROTHERS

So I'm out on a date with a guy I met on the internet. Its not going well! In fact its going shit! He took me to see the Zoo art exhibition in Shoreditch. It became quite apparent after 5 minutes we had nothing in common, especially when he starts saying quite loudly for everyone to hear, that "I feel this exhibition as an under laying religious tone, with its simplicity. It must be Protestantism, don't you feel carly?" All I could do was walk off into the corners and pretend to look at pictures but really all I was doing was pissing myself! This didn't go down to well with the exhibiting artists, as they all thought I was laughing at their work! So in the end all I could do was look at my phone to check the time and hope this disaster was nearly over. It was on one of these occasional looks, that I saw a text message off one of my best friends Hannah Inviting me to come and join her at Bungalow 8. Hannah's boyfriend is the Manger of Bungalow 8, which is one of the most exclusive nightclubs in London. It's where you see all the drunken pictures of Celebrity's falling out of it's doors in the early hours of the morning. Not normally my cup of tea, but with free drinks thrown in all night I was tempted. The thing that clinched it though was the chance to see the Cuba brothers. I have heard lots about them from friends who had seen them on the festival circuit and they all said they were a must see! So I quickly decided to ditch the date, as he was boring the hell out of me with all his bullshit! I said I had to go and meet a friend and left him looking a bit dumb founded at the bus stop! I think it might do him good this little rejection, as I think he thought he was God's gift to women.
I picked up my friend Debs on the way, and headed down there.  We got the star treatment from Hannah's boyfriend,  who put us on a table right next to the dance floor and next to the action.  we also had free mojitos laid on all night.  On most night's this would be my highlight, but thats before four men came out dressed in tight spandex suits, with blonde wigs and moustaches and performed crazy B boy moves and sang crazy songs, in crazy accents (My idea of quality entertainment!)  The Cuban Brothers did not disappoint, they were the best act I have seen in ages, and after one to many mojitos me and Hannah decided it would be a good idea to join in their routine by getting on the dance floor with them and doing our own crazy dance moves!After the club shut (God knows at what time that was, as I was so drunk by then!) we got asked back to the owner of Bungalow 8 (The queen of the New York club scene, Amy Sacco), palatial Covent Garden pad (Oh!  How the other half live!) to party away to the early hours of the morning and hang with the Cuban Brothers, which was so cool!  In fact I was talking to the lead guy who is actually called Mike Keat and hales from Glasgow (Not very Latin then!)  I did eventually leave, but not before I challeneged Amy sacco to a karoke contest, and finished off by throwing by phone to her face and telling her in a slurred manner, "Could you tell the taxi man where you live, because I haven't got a sodding clue, and he won't take my answer of it bloody big, cost shit loads and is somewhere in Convent Garden!"  I know how to leave in style?  I rolled into bed at about 7.00am I think?  Aren't I meant to be slowing down now I'm 30?
Check out this montage of the cuban brothers at their best.

LIFE IN THE WICK

While most people my age were beginning to settle down in life, with mortgages, marriage and children, I did the opposite and reverted back to my youth, by living in a kind of adult halls of residence. It name for you that don't know is Oslo House and two and half years later I'm still here, refusing to grow up. I left home when I was 19, never really to go back for any length of time and never really wanting to go back either. For 8 years I led a nomadic existence, moving a least once a year, filling in the gaps with sleeping on sofas, living out of bags, and traveling the world for months with only what I could carry on my back as my possessions. This life style suited me, I have not the reasons to answer, why. Sometimes there are no reasons, that's just the way it is, but I missed a place to call home.

Then I found it! Home! Home is in the middle of an ugly industrial estate in East London; in an old clothing factory; in an artists community; in a flat with four people just as crazy as me and living with two gay cats. My home is Hackney Wick, Oslo House and though it may not be every ones idea of home, I love it!

I wake in the morning to Thenasis, my Greek neighbour, singing songs of his native language or bad 80's pop. I fall asleep to pounding beats of house parties along the corridor or below my floor. I leave the house sometimes to find the alcoholic artist who lives a couple of doors down, passed out on the floor, amongst the garbage bags that the neighbours can't be arsed to take down stairs.

I leave the building to find the old crazy lady from OAP home down the road has escaped again, laughing to herself insanely in the middle of the road. The Tramp with the simmer frame is holding on with his last bit of conciseness with a bottle of Gin beside him. The man with one leg is pushing his children in the buggy, into the shop with the help of his false metal leg, fag in mouth sprinkling ash as he goes.

This is the local friendly neighbourhood. It works this strange neighbourhood, mixing, working class estates with the young hip creative generation all wanting to live like the common people even though, most probably never have had to experience poverty in there middle class up bringing.

I have put down as much roots as I can, for me. I brought a bed, a washing machine, and fridge freezer. Not big deals for most people, but very scary for a girl that would not buy anything that would not fit into a Nissan Micra!
It's funny where people find themselves in their comfort zones. If you told me I would be living here 10 years ago I would have told you to piss off, but to be fair I was never going to live some where normal. As ugly; as noisy and as mad it is, there is no place like home!

THE LAST OF THE SUMMER

I thought I would just post this montage of pictures, that show our lovely garden in full bloom. It was meant to be a joint effort between me and Angus, but I've had a rather wild summer and did neglect our children the flowers a bit. Luckily Angus was more focused than me and made the garden amazing. We even had our own tomatoes, radishes and salad leaves. Hopefully next year, it will be even better and I might be a little more focused.

INTRODUCING HANK & CASSIUS

After months, of looking at Cat porn ( Thats looking at cute images of kittens!) and realising that having minu (Next doors cat) as an adoptive pet, wasn't enough Angus decided he wanted not just one but two of his own. After much searching Angus found Cass and Hank from an old couple in Greenwich who wanted to go traveling. They are both just over one year old and Hank is a Savanna and Cass is part Bengal. Can I just state these are not normal cats! For a start Hank ( Also known as spank) sleeps in the shower and the sink. He also acts more like a dog and follows Angus around everywhere, to point that Angus is going to get him a lead so he can take him and walks! Cass is the trouble maker. He can't sit still for a minute (I think he has ADHD: Can cats get that?) He wrecks everything in sight and we now have a super soaker to shoot at him when he's naughty. Not like it does any good, as he is fearless and spends most of the day soaked to the bone! He is also gay as we caught him trying to bum Hank one morning! Not like that matters as we love our cats no matter what there sexual orientation is. All that said they are the most charming creatures, who win over everyone that comes into contact with them, including my sister and Mum, both of which hate cats! I think they are the best housemates I've ever had. Well apart from when they try and shit in my Umbrella plants!

LADY WARRINGTON'S GUIDE TO INTERNET DATING

Round two. Yes! I'm going back to the wilds of that world known as Internet dating. This will be my second attempt at it, after doing it earlier this year, but not really being in the right frame of mind and being a little naive to it. After a year of high, lows, wildness, and "What the hell am I doing!", with my love life moments, I have decided to start a fresh slate and return to the Internet with a different outlook and a lot more prepared for what comes with it. You see the Internet is a bigger gauntlet than normal dating, So here are some tips to get you through it. Oh! This will be completely bias to a woman's point of view as I don't have a penis!

* OK! First up and most importantly, don't go thinking that all men on the dating site are nice. There are just as many players on them as there in a bar. They are just harder to spot through a computer screen. So don't go into it thinking you are going to find the man of your dreams and the father of your children. You most likely won't!

* You don't have to reply to ever man that sends you a message. Some people are just not for you and also some people are just pure freaks! I've had requests to dress up as an Easter bunny and go and lick champagne off a fat Phil Mitchell look alike. I've been told I look like a cute tabby that's just used its kitty litter tray! So I guess he was saying I look like cat shit! Warning stay away from these type of men!

* Remember your completing against a lot of other women on these sites, so don't just think that when a guy messages you that its exclusive. He's messaging loads of other girls and has probably ton of other dates lined up. He's just trying to fit you into his Thursday evening slot. Not like this is a bad thing or makes him a bad person. Keep your options open and don't put all your eggs in one basket. That's what I say!

* When you first join, scan the site for who you like the look of and add them to favourites. The popular list is always a good place to start as they are usually the best and filter out the freaks (Not always though!). The only thing with the popular list is that some get a bit big headed and can be very selective about who they message, so don't always expect a reply. Anyway message as many of your favourites as possible. See who gets back to you and then you can filter out who you like the sound of.

* Stay away from men who say potential marriage material on their profiles. They are luring you into a trap. This is actually code for "I never want to get married and I want to sleep with as many women as possible, but I'll tell her what she wants to hear!"

* 5'9 usually means they are 5'6!

* Some guys operate The Three Strikes and your Out! policy. So if you really like them don't do anything until after the third date. If your not that bothered about them, do what the hell you like!

* Go for guys with normal taken pictures. The one's with professional pictures are only going to be disappointing when you meet them in the flesh.

* Have fun with it, after all the age old pursuit of love has always been one big game!

I hope I have armed you with some good tips. So now go forth and rule the world of Internet dating! Just so you know my advice works: I have got on the Guardian Soul mates popular list! Shit! That means I'm a bigheaded bitch who thinks she is too good to reply to anyone! Dam it!

THE POWDER ROOM

I have to tell you about a great little place I found. Its called The Powder Room. I found out about it from my friend Heather who knows the owner Katy. I was looking for some where that would do mine and my friends hair for my 1940's party. I couldn't have gone to a better place. The Powder room specializes in old school glamour for every occasion. Me and the girls chatted and laughed and decided we had to make this a regular treat. At £15 to get our hair done it was a great price to. Check out the website at here and get yourself down there for a treat.
The Powder Room
136 Columbia Road
London E2 7RG
Telephone: 0207 729 1365
Email: shop@thepowderpuffgirls.com

BIRTHDAY PRESENTS

As you know I'm not one to brag?, but I had to show off some of my amazing birthday presents. I got lots of money, Champagne, wine (I don't know why people think I drink a lot!) sexy underwear, (Off my mum!), a bag, and flowers. I am extremely grateful for all of these but there were a few high lights. The first being a wonderful Vivienne Westwood purse off my sister. She has been moaning at me to get a new one for ages, as I have had my one for years, so its falling apart at the seams and has holes in it (Maybe that explains why I'm always loosing money?) I think Paula had to buy me one out of sheer embarrassment! It was a good choice as well, as I have been eyeing up Westwood purses for ages every time I go in Selfridges.

Next up is my joint present off the girls. Oh yes! People actual do read my blog. They had seen a previous post THE MAD HATTER, and picked up on my wanting of a Lock &Co hats. They got me the most amazing Panama, which comes in the most amazing box too. Unfortunately its a little bit small, so I have to go to the shop for a proper fitting. Can't wait to sashay through the streets of London with that hat box.


Finally, my housemates got me the most amazing present. Yes a new bike! I was in total shock. Its so beautiful. Like something out of Miss Marple. They had got so fed up of my old bike, as it was like a tank, the gears didn't work, so I had to get off going up hill, the brakes didn't work, so I had to get off going down hill (In fact I just tried to avoid hills!) This bike is a joy and I have been out cycling nearly everyday since I got it, and the best thing is, I don't feel like I have just completed a Marathon after being out on it. God I wish I was 30 everyday.