I’ve been invited by lastminute.com to write a blog about being spontaneous.
I like to live my life by the Dr Pepper slogan; what’s the worst that could happen? I’m not even gonna get into the whole YOLO thing. I’m not talking about “OMG I just ate 6 packets of crisps….YOLO!” – that’s not living life to the full, that’s living life to obesity. You do only get one go around (at this point in time anyway if you believe in reincarnation) so it’s your duty to experience and learn as much as you possibly can from life. I’m 28 and I reckon I’ve got more life experience than most people twice my age because there’s not a lot I’ll say no to trying (any lad reading this has just automatically thought ‘yeh she’s into anal her’ – dirty gets).
One day, a few years ago, I was coming out of a really bad relationship. I came home from the gym Sunday afternoon and thought “Fuck this shit, I’m getting off.” I went on the computer an booked a flight and hotel to Paris and rang me mum,
“Muuuummm, can I have a lift the airport?”
I heard her rolling her eyes down the phone, like actually heard them rolling, but she agreed; she’s used to these kind of antics from me. People always wonder “Weren’t you scared going away on your own?” No not at all, there was loads to do there and I could do it whenever I wanted to. It turned out to be the best cure for a broken heart ever; the men are so forward there. You can’t walk down the street without men whistling or telling you how fit you are (but then that’s just a normal day for a Scouse bird isn’t it?), I even had an ambulance pull over so the paramedics could wind down the window and tell me how beautiful I was. Needless to say I got home and got rid of that gobshite who was messing me round once and for all.
That wasn’t the first time I’d been away on my own. When I was 19 I booked a holiday with my mates and they cancelled at the last minute because they’d been to Paris and decided they couldn’t afford the trip to Zante anymore. I thought “Screw you guys, I’m off!” and went alone. I took going out clothes in case I made friends and loads of books if I didn’t. I went for tea on the first night on my own and came back to sit on the hotel balcony. Two lads from Stevenage were staying in the room next door, we got chatting and they said “Wanna come out with us?” They’d already met a brother and sister from Birmingham and the 5 of us had a ball for the rest of the holiday. I think even now it’s deffo in the top 3 holidays I’ve ever had, it was such a laugh. We were out til the sun came up every night, sneaking into other hotels an jumping in their pools til security came and shouted Greek profanities at us…just general mischief making.
Then there’s the Mexico chronicles. There was the time we went on the Pirate cruise and ended up going partying downtown with the Mexicans. I mean their actual job description is Pirate of the Caribbean, how could we not? We ended up in some dive karaoke bar drinking 90p bottles of Budweiser and singing the only songs they had in English – Simply the Best and Like a Virgin.
And who could forget that the first night of my holiday I got drunk and went to a tattoo parlour, in a club, by the toilets. Well I obviously can’t forget cos I’ve got a tattoo on my wrist haven’t i?
Then there was the time I went skinny dipping with a fit Geordie lad at 5am in the sea and the hotel security guard started chasing and swearing at us. GAWWWD, security guards ruin all the fun!
Of course being spontaneous doesn’t all revolve around travelling; sometimes you have to take time out to enjoy your own city. I happen to think, sorry KNOW, that I live in the best city in the world. There’s nowhere quite like Liverpool, I love the bones of it.
One day this summer I was drinking in the back garden with my mate Lizzy. I was in a long term relationship which I was desperate to get out of but felt bad because there wasn’t any real reason other than the fact I just didn’t love him – I’d realised we had absolutely nothing in common and it was fast turning to resentment. In the same way other relationships taught me what I don’t want in a man, this taught me that just not being certain things wasn’t enough; he taught me what I do want in a man. Me and Lizzy made a list: he had to be tall, intelligent, ambitious, same sense of humour and loyal….anything else was negotiable. Then the drink ran out.
We decided to go on a last minute night out (you know they’re always the best…see spontaneity is boss!), I had to lend her clothes and shoes because we weren’t prepared. We went for a couple of cocktails and then decided to go the Sir Thomas to meet my mate and missed him by literally 2 minutes. We decided to head to our favourite haunt Moniques and this is where it gets interesting…
When we got there we met up with a couple we know who were already out. As I sat down one of his friends came over who was already out with another set of mates and we got introduced. I said ‘hi’ an carried on talkin to me mate like the snotty bitch I can sometimes be (who isn’t sometimes? I was havin a no man zone night and actually thought ‘He’s too good looking, clearly a gobshite.’)
We got talking later on and I suddenly realised he was ticking all my boxes….like all of them, even the negotiable ones. We were getting on so well! Moniques closed and we headed to Garlands, the lads couldn’t get in cos they were wearing polo shirts *rolls eyes* so we ended up in Passion AKA the arse hole of Eberle Street. We chatted some more, I explained I had a fella but it was imminently ending (that old chestnut, but no seriously I’d already tried to finish it a few weeks earlier….it was deffo happening). It got to about 5am and we piled outside. It was light out and the middle of July so still quite warm. I decided I wasn’t ready for this night to end… “Lets go the offy and go the Pier Head”
So flouting all the public drinking laws we got a bottle of Glenns (the fun vodka) and sat on the Pier Head, messing about, talking. It was amazing. Probably the best night out in my own city I’ve ever had. I climbed into bed about 8am and broke up with my fella later that day. He moved out the next.
I ended up having a whirlwind romance with the lad I met but it turns out my initial impressions were right and he was in fact a gobshite. I got my heart all kinds of broken but would I change it for a second? Hell no. I regret nothing, we parted as friends (cos of my overwhelming soundness) an I wish him well. Through gritted teeth ;). Everything that happens in your life, good or bad makes you who you are today and I happen to like me dead loads.
Think you’re as spontaneous as me? Tell me all about your spontaneous stories, tweet me and I’ll RT my favourites or comment on this blog post or Facebook post. Share this blog with your mates and get them to share theirs as well.
Also lastminute.com are running a competition to find a spontaneity champion who will win £50,000 worth of travel experiences, all you have to do is record a 60 second youtube video saying why you should win. Enter here http://lovelivinglastminute.com/?intcmp=mainhpb_banner_marketing_spontaneity_microsite