April 2017

April 24, 2017 in Category Scarlett Adventures...,UK


Last weekend I turned 29; which I’m looking at as the “Bank Holiday Sunday of my twenties” – I mean, yeah the long weekend might be drawing to a close, but you’re sure as hell going to have a good time.

Surprisingly, turning 29 hasn’t bothered me. I think with the likes of 24, 25 and 26 there’s a general feeling of unease and pressure to have some sort of plan to your life. By 29 you’ve realised that you can plan as much as you want, but things will probably go tits up or turn out differently anyway, so you might as well just have a fucking laugh instead. And so the fun years start.

So, with that in mind my fella and I headed to Manchester to check out The Comedy Store last Saturday for, quite literally, a laugh. Believe it or not, despite being from Liverpool I’d never been on a night out in Manchester before, so it was completely new territory for me.

Because it was absolutely cracking the flags we had a few drinks in Burscough first… starting at 2pm. “RIP us” I laughed as I sunk my first double of the day… less funny when I was sat on the toilet by 7pm, trying to send a text off my purse with one eye open. The reason I tell you this though,  is because – had the next series of events happened without that vodka in me – the day could have been a lot different.

manchester blogger

Now, what I’ve failed to mention so far is that, earlier that morning, I’d thrown my (already pretty smashed up) iPhone into my handbag, where it had bounced off something or other and completely fucked the front camera. Which was, obviously, massively detrimental to my selfie game that day – annoying as I’d actually had my hair and makeup done to take me from a weak 3 to a solid 9.

So after complaining about it for the best part of an hour, I went off to the toilet. When I returned, I found my boyfriend – and I shit you not here people – hacking at my phone with a steak knife.

You can see where this is going, can’t you?

“I’m just getting the glass off the camera so it works, babe” he grins, while I do my best not to scream through gritted teeth.

“He’s not an idiot,” I thought to myself, cringing with every bang, “he puts screens in these things all the time.”

Lol, wrong.

“Errrrr, think I’ve broke your phone babe.”

And that was that. RIP my phone. If I thought my selfie game was weak before, it certainly was now.

Besides the obvious annoyances that come with not having a phone, (can someone tell me what on earth you’re meant to do in a bar without a phone when you’re fella disappears off tot he toilet for ten minutes? Answers on a post card pls.) All of the booking reservations for the hotel and Comedy store were stored in my screenshots. Because it’s 2017, of course they fucking were.

Luckily, we were staying at the gorgeous Novotel Manchester Centre which I’d recommend for five reasons;

  • 1. I didn’t need to faff around with finding booking reservations like you have to in a lot of hotels, it was all sorted for us when we arrived.
  • 2. It’s literally smack bang in the centre of Manchester, so you can walk to all the cultural bits and bobs if that’s what you’re into… Or, like me, you can happily stumble home with your “share”box (lol) of Maccies nuggets.
  • 3. It’s a beautiful hotel if you’re looking to impress whilst being actually really reasonably priced.
  • 4. The breakfasts are a hangover cure sent from the Gods themselves and
  • 5. The room we stayed in had a sort of clear panel between the bathroom and the bedroom – very sexy when you or your fella have a shower the night before… Less sexy, as you can imagine, when you have to get up in the middle of the night for a drunk wee.

novotel manchester centre

(Check out the clear panel!)

Sorting out the Comedy club reservation, on the other hand, was a bit more difficult. Not least because I had absolutely no idea what the password to my email was, but because I’d also made up some stupid answer to my security question too. Just as I was getting to my limit of pissed off, my fella goes “hey look who’s behind you”… and I turned around to see the last girl he’d got with before me.

As I said, it was lucky 29 is the age where you stop sweating the small stuff… amirite? I’m excited to see what the rest of the year has in store…

Until next time… x



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