Friday, 18 April 2014

Mother's Day x

For Mother's Day- (well really I should say aunty day in my case), we hit up the 5th floor resturant SEASON in Harvey Nichols. I adore it here, such a cool vibe and not as pretentious and wanky as other resturants in the surrounding area (something I hate about westend... Even though Im a west london girl) 
The food was absolutely amazing, and stunningly presented! 

Smoked salmon and parsnip purée Amuse buoche 

Crab salad (starter) 

Roast beef, and all the trimmings (which both me and my aunty had) 

For desert I was treated to a wonderful deconstructed starwberry and rhubarb cheese cake. 
Which was out outrageously delicious! 

Accompanying this I enjoyed a German Pinot Noir, which I have to say was surprisingly brilliant!! (I can't remember what it was called though, because I drank to much..) 

Anyway I highly recommend SEASON at the 5th floor, their set menu changes but its always delicious so choosing between the options is the biggest issue you'll face! 

Thursday, 10 April 2014

Is It Worth It...

Fragments of the night before continue to play out, the bass of forgotten mixes still drumming through your foggy mind, drunken slumber, disturbed by the extension of last nights activities.
Eventually pulled back to reality after the 40th watsapp alert tone. A group message, filled with embarrassing realisations that only you could find funny. Stifling laughter at that guy, who did that thing. Remember when Jaimie fell heroically whilst trying to defend her chicken nuggets?...
Sitting up, blindly blinking around your blurry, darkened room. That familiar churning in the pit of the stomach, parched throat and puffy faced. It begs the question. Is it worth it? 

On so many mornings I scroll through my news feed, facing the usual "such a waste of a day. I hate being hungover" or "never again".
The worst, "feels so good to wake up so fresh, what a productive day. Love not drinking" UGH!!!

Status's and tweets that can only be taken as irrational insults, shamming those of us who stumbled home at 4am. And whilst I empathise, a wasted day may well be a pointless day and yes I no longer have the bounce back of that 16 year old I once was. I'm 22, verging the age where it's perhaps less acceptable to stumble blindly along Tottenham Court Road, in just a short few years I could well be the name that hangs off those judgemental whispers, "shes too old for that". So well its still almost socially acceptable I'm determined to make the most of what will soon be distant, happy memories. 
It dawned on me recently, it's only the stories I don't have to tell I regret. There are many things in my life I wish to keep a secret. A secret between me and those it was created with, my best friends who's eyes fill with light at the smallest reminder of that thing we did that one time, the same stories that make me laugh out loud when alone in the middle of the night. 
For you maybe it's not worth it, but right now my favourite stories are being discovered in the depths of the darkness. In the corner of that cool bar I was told about once.. 
When I am old and everything else has gone,all that will be left is me and our stories. And I want them to be spectacular.

For my friends, who continue to bring me back to life. The nicest, naughty girls losing themselves in each other.