Tag Archives: chelsea


The package flight

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WARNING: I am writing this from a private beach in Talum so expect plenty of errors!

So close friends decided to spend a month in Mexico this august. I agreed to meet them for a couple of weeks. The flight options were limited. I hate transfers and British airways were showing 2 transfers. How is one supposed to settle into a playlist or movie with that many changes? There were only 2 options; thomsons or virgin. Being pure in nature virgin was my first choice but it would mean 10 hours of airport time between their flight and mine. I love alone time but airports are stressful and I didn’t have the budget for business lounge, I.e. Kids minimised, so opted for thomsons.

My first clue that this was a little different was when they told me I could take luggage but had to pay for it plus an extra space seat. FYI that was £40 not well spent. I was only allowed 20kgs which meant me repacking twice ( throwing out 3 pairs of shoes and my robe) to get it down to 19.4kgs.

I arrived at gatwick north to the recollection that I hate gatwick north. There aren’t any decent shops. Oh terminal 5! Why hast thou forsaken me? Yes my precious, I’m an airport snob.

We get on the flight and for once Maxine my Budda belly is feeling rather tiny despite the failed pre holiday diet. I’m surrounded by men with bellies and women with multiple bellies. I could get used to this. My dress to impress just in case a hottie is on the plane is a pure waste.

I’m sat next to a Ricky gervais look alike and his 3 mini gervaises. They needed the extra space seats. Apparently Ricky’s balls are so big that he has to spread his track suit legs into my extra space. There isn’t enough extra space. They eat all the way through a 10 hour flight. They accompany their food with farting and burping both of which I don’t hear as the noise from the other passengers is so loud I can’t even hear announcements but by god do I smell them. Ricky playfully swots Ricky junior junior whenever it’s his farts that join the limited air in the plane. I try to sleep but my eye cover doesn’t keep out smell. I give up and instead build an epic jukebox list on the music thingy. None of the movies I wanted to see in the magazine were actually on the thingy. So music it is!

I overhear a conversation between a mum and her kids. Apparently her brats are getting their gcse results the next day. Something tells me they’re not twins and some may be resits. She tells them that they’ll drink when they’ve got their results to celebrate or commiserate. This worries me. Aren’t you only 16 at gcse level. Even the resit one can’t be over 18. Have the laws changed?

I ask for water they try to charge me the price of a 3 packs if haribos. I didn’t think you could do long hail budget but, you can. The attendants look weather beaten and essexified. This is glamorous to them.

All that said it was £300 less than virgin. You can’t choose the other passengers. I don’t think that I will use them long haul regularly. Their lack of a rewards system alone precludes them from being a regular choice. But for the odd cheap get away…. Why not? And now I can upgrade and still be in a normal holiday budget. Result!

Just take nose and ear plugs….and that emergency stash of treats.

Right, now back to the beach.

(C) chelsea black 2014


Soho Screamer part 3 – Traffic People

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So the dress that was taken in for DNA testing. It was fuchsia (not red PC Kent)  and was the one dress I knew I could rely on to cover Maxine my budda belly without being black. I loved that dress. Oh the adventures we have had with dress! It flatters without being slutty. A rare classy look for me. I usually go for transparently obvious. But Traffic People dress meant I didn’t need to.

In the face of winter fast approaching and me not having a winter coat I knew that my focus needed to be on finding a decent winter coat. But instead I got myself out of my self-pity bed and decided to go to the Traffic People shop on the Kings Road.

Let me explain. I wasn’t really leaving home as much as I normally would. I was stopping to let people pass me as I didn’t like men walking behind me. I really did start to think that every man was a threat. I didn’t like myself but I knew I had to start living normally. What better way than a trip up the Kings Road to restore my spirits. I think I was still in shock and I needed to do something to stop myself blaming myself for the incident. You know, reliving it and re-plotting my journey home. Maybe taking the offer of a shared taxi home etc. What can you do? It’s the minds way to try to control and rationalise these situations. But you just can’t.

So I went whistling as I walked only to find…the shop has closed down!

I didn’t know what to do my precious. I stood there for at least 5 minutes staring in disbelief at the shop. Was I going to burst into tears and cause a scene on the Kings Road?

Eventually I just turned and walked home. It wasn’t my week clearly. And why was I hunting for a dress that was at least 3 seasons old? I had to get over it and focus on getting a winter coat. England doesn’t play when it comes to cold. The rain warned me of cold times to come.

But thanks to Facebook I will always have the photos of Maxine and I in that dress. We sure had fun. And if I’m honest, the reason the attacker struggled with my dress is that it was a tad snugger in the hips than it should have been. Yeah all those haribos finally found a home.

I’ll have to save my therapeutic shop for another day. Apparently this is normal post trauma shock talking. The need to shop however is part of me. That hasn’t died. That will never die.

To fashion!

© Chelsea Black


Positive lies men tell pt1


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I was inspired by @Leftysbetta to write the positive lies men tell. The lies we want to believe because we see them on TV and films and songs from the 90s and somewhere deep down we think this is what love is. I guess the sad part is that they are so convincing we do believe them even when we know he’s a liar. But here’s an idea. When he does say something that sounds too good to be true and you don’t think the relationship or actions leading up to it warrant such a declaration please check the following:

A)     Ask him how many women have he said this to. Chances are he’ll look earnestly at you or look hurt and say, “No one else. You’re my first.” No man is a Lying Virgin. If he admits to using it before but says, “But this time I mean it!” then chances are he’s more of an honest liar.

B)      Is he willing to put his feelings in writing? I said to an ex “you know what I love? Love letters and made him write all that stuff down.” Turned into a wish list of sexual fantasies so I knew he was lying, bless.  Chances are he’ll pull a strop /sulk at this point and blame you for ruining a beautiful moment. Flash some tittie and tell him to get over it. I bet he does, quickly.

C)      If you haven’t slept with him in a while this may be his method of getting you to drop the panties. Hold off for 24 hours if you are suspicious of his motives. See how sincere he is. Bet he goes home soon after said declaration to spank the money instead.

D)     If you are in bed then chances are he’s suffering an overwhelming endorphin rush which will subside. Ask him to say it again as he wrestles you for the remote control later.

Ok we all set? Next page for the top 15. If you have any others send them to me via @Chelseablack on twitter or through the comments. Let’s Go! click here


© Chelsea Black

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