The Negative Consequences of a Drunken Fool

I know I have been a bad blogger as of late, but the last few months of Uni have stretched me to my limits and finding the time to sit and write for leisure's sake rather than for the needs of my course was an impossibility unfortunately. However, Uni is now over and I am now off out into the world of work (I shall keep you posted on the job hunt over the following weeks) - but until the eagerly awaited day comes when a great company decides they simply cannot function without me and snaps me up as their latest recruit, I have the time to dedicate to my writing here on Twenty-one and Invincible.

So...I'm back and boy have I got a story for you! Having been invisibly tied to my computer for the last two months on an almost permanent basis I decided that my first week as an official ex-student should be spent catching up with my friends, who I have to admit I had neglected whilst in my darkest hours of facing many looming deadlines. So first stop was a drink in my local with the lads.

As it was a Sunday, I was hardly expecting it to be a mad one, but certain people had other ideas! On arrival I found one of my friends to be suffering the pitfalls of that old chestnut "one too many" - he was loud, lairy and somewhat out of control, so his car keys were confiscated and he was sent up to one of the B&B rooms to sleep it off. So that was one of us down and out already, and it had barely gone 9 o'clock!

As the night progressed, the drinks flowed and frivolity took over. The pub had the jukebox blaring and myself and some other pub-goers got up for a dance. There was lots of silliness and a fair bit of banter - even some impromptu pole dancing lessons of behalf of myself and a very fit and healthy 60 year-old - but it was all in good fun, and everyone was having a good time.

Little did we know that the devil "one too many" was about to rear it's ugly head again so soon. What follows next is still a little bit of blur, as it happened too fast for me to register, so you will have to bare with me. I was propped up on the bar, rooting around in my bag for my phone or lipgloss or something of the like, when I felt this heavy weight press down on my left shoulder. It was so heavy in fact that my knees gave way and I struggled not to fall off my 6-inch heels! I looked over my shoulder to tell whoever it was leaning on me to remove themselves, when I heard this almighty smash and was immediately showered with bits of broken glass and china.

At this point I think I was momentarily in shock as I tried to register what had happened. The pub had gone completely silent and all eyes were on me and the destruction that now surrounded me. I turned around to find a drunken fool grinning like a Cheshire cat at the antique lamp hanging above my head which he had just smashed into a million pieces. I did not see how this had happened of course, but was informed later that this gentleman had been attempting some Jackie Chan moves and had round-house kicked the lamp over my head, whilst using me as a prop to help propel himself off the floor!

Once the immediate shock of being showered in broken glass had worn off and I had checked I was not cut or bleeding, I suddenly realised how incredibly lucky I was not to have been seriously injured. If I had turned to look over my other shoulder at the exact moment that this fool had kicked the lamp this story might be a very different one, as my face would have been towards the barrage of broken china and glass and I could have been scarred for life or even blinded. Upon realising this I think it is fair to say I lost my temper quite a bit, and though I shall not detail the ins and outs of my torrent here, the gentleman it was aimed at got the very clear impression that I was not best pleased with his actions. He was, of course, escorted from the pub by several friends of mine, who were not too pleased with his sudden out burst of material arts either.

As silly as it may sound in hindsight, I could not get over how lucky I had been. If the glass had hit my face instead of the back of my head who knows the lasting damage it could of caused. For simply being in the wrong place at the wrong time I could be suffering from a serious injury now, and that really is just unthinkable.

Thankfully I wasn't seriously hurt, just a little shaken up by how reckless some people can be when they've been drinking. This man was well into his forties and may possibly have had children not far from my age, yet he had little to no concern for my well-being at all. He knew full well that I was right underneath the lamp he was about to smash to pieces and even held on to me whilst he did it, so there was never any chance that I wouldn't have ended up covered in broken glass. We all do stupid things under the influence of alcohol; many of us will have woken up and remembered sending an embarrassing text to an ex, mixing up your words as you try to talk or even falling over due to your inebriation - but the only person that is really affecting is yourself. I have never caused harm to another person because of what I have had to drink, and I would like to think I never will.

It is these little incidents that make you realise that "one too many" is not always just the cause of some rather outrageous banter; sometimes it can be the reason why someone ends up seriously hurt, and as a forty-something he should really have known better. I did receive a lovely big bunch of flowers the following day by way of an apology, but I still think that the gentleman in question needs to consider the fact that his drunken tom-foolery could have resulted in a very nasty situation, and it was not just himself that he could have ended up hurting. So much for a quiet drink in the pub ay!

In loving memory

One year ago today marks the sad passing of a great man, who touched so many people with his enthusiastic approach to life and his fun loving nature. Mitchell Courtney Calveley only lived a short 19 years on this Earth, but he made every second of it count, and left this life with so many people who loved and adored him.

As most who know me will know, I'm never usually lost for words, but for some reason today I'm finding it hard to express just how I feel about losing such a great person from my life. So, as I'm wanting to say something so beautiful and sincere about Mitch and his influence in my life, I think it best to revert to what I wrote about him when he first passed away. I hope all who read this can appreciate the sentiment, as I know he is sorely missed by both his family and friends.

"I never loved anyone like I loved Mitchell; probably because there was never anyone like Mitchell on this Earth. He was totally unique. He was always just himself, and he always did what made him happy. He lived life to the full. He worked hard and he played hard, and that's why people loved him. Because he was just Mitchell, and that was enough to brighten anyone's day.

He made me feel things I didn't really understand. I could never understand how he could make me laugh out loud and annoy the hell out of me in the same moment, but I guess that's what was really great about him, because I could never stay mad at him for long. One flash of that beautiful smile of his and I'd melt like butter. I'm sure many people he knew would agree with me on that one.

Mitch showed me what it was like to fall head over heels in love with someone, and with him I was falling a little bit more every day. I know that I will treasure every minute I ever spent with him.

One of his close friends once said to me that there were never any bad times with Mitchell, only good times to remember - and I think that is something that proves what a wonderful person he really was.

If Mitchell's passing has showed me anything, it is how truly amazing he really was. He touched so many people in this life, and there was rarely a bad word said about him. He just seemed to make everyone's lives that little bit better just for knowing him.

He was a great friend, a loving boyfriend, a supportive brother and a son to be proud of. He will be sorely missed by more people than he could have ever known. He will never be forgotten, and he will always be loved by those he made so happy in this lifetime.

Forever in our hearts Mitch xx"

Four days in a frosty haven

Today is my first day back in the working world after a truly wonderful four-day trip to Gloucestershire with my other half, and I have to say, it's just as cold back here in Brum but not half a peaceful.

Me and the Mr whisked ourselves away to the beautiful Sherborne House, a stately home in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by rolling hills, stunning water features and breathtaking landscape gardens. It has it's own tennis courts, mini gym, games room, sauna and swimming pool on site - as well as an unconventional orangery and rose gardens to peruse.

Our little house was decked with bespoke antique furniture and more country-themed rugs than you could shake a stick at! The whole site was enthralling, and I can honestly say it was like locking yourself away in a completely forgotten world of regency, grandeur and horticulture.

Ten minutes away lies the sweet little village of Bourton-on-the-Water; the so-called Venice of Britain. The whole town is built around the river which runs throughout it, and has more tea rooms, country pubs and trinket shops than you can envision. Me and the Man indulged in all of the above, as well as The Dragonfly maze and the Model Village. Both were brilliant, and the maze was some of the most fun I've had in ages. I don't mind admitting that I was like a little kid in there; running round like a nutter, trying to find the clues to unlock the secret of the maze! And the boyfriend humoured me, bless him!

We journeyed to Cheltenham for lunch the one day, and spent the following day wandering the grounds of the delightful Sherborne House. The whole experience was bliss - a really romantic getaway for us both.

Many would be fooled into thinking that this was just a fleeting trip away; an impromptu voyage of self-indulgence? You would only be half right. This trip was about far more then just a romantic break for me and the Fella, and I'm just about to tell you why.

As those who know me will already know, me and my other half don't have the most

conventional of relationships, and unfortunately it is through no fault of our own. You see, my Mr is a poorly boy, as not long after we met earlier this year, he discovered he had Hodgkin's Lymphoma - a form of cancer which originates from the white blood cells in the body and spreads throughout the lymph nodes (in the neck and under the arm). He has spent the last five months being treated with Chemotherapy, and he is now currently waiting for a scan to determine the success of the treatment so far and what should be done next.

At the prime age of 23, this was more than just a shock for him and his family - and me, if I'm completely honest. It was not helped, in my mind, by the tragedy I had suffered shortly before meeting my Man. I had lost somebody very close to me, suddenly and seemingly without explanation, and after finding out about the boyfriend's illness, I nicknamed myself The Black Widow.

I felt I was cursed, and I will be honest enough to say that shortly after he called to tell me the news, I phoned my best friend Ray and told her that it was all my fault. I genuinely believed for those few short hours that I was the reason he was ill. I had already lost one great man, and now I was going to cause even more harm to another undeserving being. Ray set me straight of course, and her words made me realise that this wasn't about me any more - from here on out it was all about him.

Now, nearly six months down the line, it's been a rough ride, but one I'll never regret. As you can imagine though, he really did need this break! My Fella is the strongest, most focused and rational person I have ever had the good fortune to meet, and I can only hope he knows how privileged I feel to be the person he has chosen to be with him during all of this.

Let's face it, this isn't the best of times for him to be working on a blossoming relationship, but my other half always makes a massive effort with me. When he is well enough, we go for dinner, we go to the movies, we go for walks and now we've even gone on a little trip. He doesn't sit around feeling sorry for himself, being spoon fed and reaping in the sympathy - he buckles up and gets on with life.

So this, I guess, is my little tribute to him and all that he is. Being with him makes you realise what real tragedy is. Tragedy is not falling out with your boyfriend over what to watch on TV, or being bitched about at work. Tragedy is watching somebody who is such a genuinely good and wholesome human being suffer over something which is out of their control. So for all those out there who make a huge deal out of the slightest little knock in life, I genuinely hope they can appreciate our situation.

Everyone likes to have a good whine once in a while - I certainly do! But my life has been completely put into perspective over this past year, and I hope that in reading this, I might just help a few others to find a bit more perspective in their lives. So ask yourself, in the grand scheme of things, is it really all that bad?