"You will attend an important event one day in November." Happy Chinese New Year!

As I waffled on about in my last post "A Valentine's message from Gwyneth and I" I really embrace any reason to celebrate in the soggy, grey early months of the year. Something to put a little spring in my step, even if the season is still a couple of months away.

Although (as you may have guessed from my photo) I have no Chinese heritage, for the past few years living in London, I've headed into Chinatown to celebrate Chinese New Year. London's Chinatown, though not able to compete in size with the Chinatowns stateside, is still such a vibrant and unique part of the city, which comes even more alive for the new year.

On Thursday, the first day of Chinese New Year, 7 pals and I started off with bellinis at the National Portrait Gallery restaurant bar - a restaurant I am now desperadoes to try out because of its amazing views of the west end, from Trafalgar Square to the House of Commons. We then headed on to Tao Tao Ju, one of the 80+ Chinese restaurants in the group of streets behind Leceister Square, and drank Tsing Tao and feasted on prawn toast, spicy ribs, fried seaweed, chicken dumplings, crispy beef, chicken in black bean sauce and more food I don't want to list anymore as I am starting to feel sick and yet impressed at how much I ate. All for the pricely sum of 20 smackeroons.

And the best thing about Chinese is obvs the fortune cookies.

Last year I got the loveliest fortune ever, which I still have stuck with blue tac to my computer at work, in hope that it will come true:

Happiness will be you for the longest time.

This year my friends and I got a few that made me rofl a bit. (But maybe in part because I was full of bellinis and beer).

You will attend an important event one day in November. (Received by my friend Clare, I enjoy how specific the fortune cookie writer has gone with that one).

Whether you choose love or fame, you can handle it. (Received by my friend Steve, who then started his pros and cons list of which one to choose)

If you don't dream too extravagant, they will come true. (A cynical fortune cookie there sent to my colleague Zina.)

And mine (I had 2, piggy).

Dancing is just like walking to music. (Hells yes)

You have a wild imagination. (True dat)

Happy Chinese New Year everyone! If you're in town, this Sunday festivities will fully overtake China town to celebrate the dawn of the year of the sheep. Check out other ways to celebrate here.

I've stopped labelling posts loner, lover or friend in the title, but you can still see everything split out by clicking on the pages or the labels at the bottom, and I am still gonna keep a completely even mix of the 3. (Someone might have noticed I owe you a lover post, as I skipped it, it is on its way). Some more ideas of things to do in London with your pals? Check out "Friend: My favourite London afternoon teas"

A Valentine's Message from Gwyneth and I

Ok, so obviously this post is not endorsed by Ms. Paltrow, but how wonderful and Valentinsy is her head garland? Imagine wearing that with some cut off shorts, Hunter wellies and a crochet top to festivals this summer. Massively upstage everyone else's puny one strand flower head garlands.

So this year I've decided I definitely like Valentine's. And not wholly because I have a boyfriend who I can (by teaming up with Hallmark,) emotionally blackmail into showering me with gifts and alcohol.

I've had some absolutely excellent Valentines' days when I have been so single I feel like I have forgotten what a boy is, like the one when I was at university and my housemate bought me a pink sparkly hoola hoop. I loved Valentine's day when I was really little and thought boys were disgusting, as it meant getting a Fry's Turkish Delight and a card, signed "guess who?" (Even at 4, I could guess this was obviously from my Dad).

And I've had some terrible Valentine's days when I've been with Will - the first one I had glandular fever and hadn't seem him (or indeed anyone but my parents) for 3 weeks, the second one I left it to him to the book the restaurant and he left it til the day before (so we stayed in and bickered about what movie to watch), and last year I went to Abisko in Northern Sweden with Will, my parents, my sister and her boyfriend. Will and I spent the day being pulled around a frozen lake on skis by a snowmobile before having a "romantic" triple date dinner with my family. Actually that one was pretty amazing, but not the most Valentinsy. 

Nutella on toast and a cup of pukka's Love tea (rose, lavendar and chamomile). The perfect Valentine's day breakfast.

Even in those perfect heady days of early romance, Valentine's can be a bit of a minefield - is it too much pressure to frequent restaurants full of established couples if you've only been going out for a little while? Should you paint yourself green or amber or red at the Valentine's traffic light party?

Sometimes I love Valentine's day, and sometimes I'm unfussed, and I don't think it has much to do with my relationship status. To be honest, the reason I have decided to love Valentine's this year, is because I've realised it is a nice little opportunity to celebrate just something - a friendly stopover on the way from Christmas to spring, something to feel happy about, an excuse to treat myself and loved ones.

Under the guise of Valentine's, so far I've bought myself a (teeny tiny) box of £13 chocolates, a bunch of £1 daffodils and a lush bath bomb. I was going to call this post "self love this Valentine's day" but that sounds super dodge, and well, a different kind of post.

Lush are doing a lovely range of Valentine's Day bath bombs, but I couldn't resist this one, Tisty Tosty, available and smelling lovely all year round. 

We all know loving ourselves is the most important thing, it is only when we love and appreciate us that we can appreciate how others love us, and be able to love them back the best we can.

As I sit here writing this, right in front of me are two framed photos. The first, of my Mum and my Dad, back in 1988, slumped on the sofa, my Dad's head resting on my Mum's shoulder and a teeny tiny new baby (me) nestling in between them. In the next, my friends Katy, Beth and I sit on the grass in our evening gowns at Henley Regatta, a sunbeam shining through the gaps in our bodies. Both of those photos have so much love in them, neither of which are the red roses and champagne kind.

Sometimes, I've found in the past if I am single on Valentine' day, it can become a time to count the love I don't have in my life. But how much nicer would Valentine's day be, if we made it about looking after and loving ourselves, and appreciating all the different types of love we receive?

My Valentine's trip 2014. To take this photo, I am out the front of a sledge (trying to avoid being pooed on by the huskies), leaning back on my Dad, leaning back on my boyfriend. Romantic. 

Copyrights: the top photo is obvs not from that time I photographed Gwyneth Paltrow with my Samsung Galaxy 3 (that never happened). The photo is taken from Harper's Bazaar March issues for their feature celebrating the florist Eric Butterbaugh. On sale February 17th. 

Don't mind reading all my ramblings and musings? Then maybe check out Loner: A big HIYA to 2015 here.

Korean food and cocktails with bourbon and prosecco (that taste nice, seriously)

I grew up in a happy and lovely but sleepy suburb, and as a 15 year old it was a pretty exciting thing when my Friday night plan was not to stay at home and watch TV, but to go and split a Margherita (cheese and tomato kind) and tap water with my pals in Pizza Express.

I'd pull on my super unflattering, midrift and hip flab revealing, ultra low slung jeans that we also used to wear, my trusty kitten heels and be really pleased with my £4.74 night out. I'd be picked up by my Dad, home by 10:30pm and had basically zero chance of meeting a boy or anything more thrilling happening than a whole Sloppy Giuseppe to myself, but I looked forward to those nights, and saved my pocket money up for them. (Obvs I realise a whole Sloppy Giuseppe pizza is still one of the most thrilling nights a girl can have, but you get the gist).

When I went to uni in Manchester, and even more so when I moved to London for work, I went out to nice and interesting places to eat all the time, more as a way to avoid having to cook dinner than because I saw it as anything exciting. Instead of looking forward to cocktails and dinner, I started to see it as the norm, and actually if anything sometimes I got more excited by a night where all I had to do was eat soup and cheese and watch the telly.

The lack of contrast between nights in and nights out meant that even when something interesting and memorable hit me bang smack in the face, I didn't really appreciate it.

So when I started Loner. Lover. Friend, part of my reasoning was that I might have more nights in writing this blog, but by writing about things and by having more nights at home, I'd start to appreciate how lucky I am to live in such a vibrant and amazing city. I'd start making reservations again. I'd research places to go, rather than stumbling into the nearest happy hour I'd been to one thousand times before. I'd begin again to think about what outfit to wear to dinner, or at the very least put some extra lippy on in the work toilets before heading out.

Having said all that, sometimes on a very very chilly Monday evening, after a very very long day at work, a girl just needs to go somewhere where it is totally appropriate to wear your ugg boots, have messy hair and just have someone cook for you while you share a bottle of red with one of your best pals.

Enter Hurwendeki, Bethnal Green. Korean Restauarant/ Hair Salon/ Coffee shop in the best way possible.

Photo by Bessie Jewels

My friend Beth has started getting her haircut there - it costs just £14 and they do a lovely job and you don't have to sit in a "salon" that looks like Mr. Toppers. Like, its an actual salon and everything. We wanted to try out the restaurant part, so we headed there on Monday night, armed with a Tesco's half price bottle of red (it's BYOB, amazing, I know).

The first thing that made me realise this was not going to be just a slightly prentious and hipsterish attempt at a Korean restaurant (I mean where other than London's east end would you find a salon-coffee shop-Asian restaurant hybrid) and was potentially something more authentic, was that there were Korean people eating and cooking there.

The new trendy Asian cuisine, now that Thai, Chinese, Indian and even Vietnamese are old news, I have been to a couple of "Koreans" in my time, which have largely focussed on kimchi and the spicy but delicious Korean fried chicken. (Jubo and Japanese Canteen I've found do particularly good ones).

I was surprised to find no KFC (as in Korean Fried Chicken, not the Colonel's) on the menu, but I guess the menu was a more authentic one, ticking off a few of the Korean classics - bimbibap and kimchi - but also had lots of dishes I hadn't seen at the KFC joints: like Jeon - Korean style pancakes, and jiggae - Korean style stews.

Beth and I shared a portion of kimchi and seafood pancakes (as it is almost pancake day) which was squid and kimchi in what tasted like crepe mixture, but it actually really worked. We polished it all off.

For mains, I had samgyeopsal - crispy pork belly (just remembered that name off the top of my head....naaaaaat) with kimchi and doenjang (a soy bean paste) sauce.

Beth had chicken bulgogi - a Korean style barbeque with rice and vegetables. It was all fabulous.

We also added a portion of crispy seaweed - a healthier but not quite as moreish a version as the Chinese one covered in salt and chilli.

The wait staff were so lovely, and best of all it was super cheap. £26 for both of us!

Which meant it was completely ok, to sneak in an £8 cocktail or two in Satan's Whiskers on the way home.

I've never actually been in Satan's Whiskers before, though I've walked past the bar whose window looks a little bit like a display at the Horniman museum which has collided with  hipster pop up bar: a taxidermied badger in the window shaking a cocktail shaker, the skeleton of what I think is a dog, birds and snakes, frozen and stuffed, candles and cocktails.

Inside the dim lighting give it a speakeasy feel, but the 90s hip hop music assures you you are very much in 2015, or at least some year after 1994.

We drank rebel flip's - an adventurous mix of bourbon and prosecco, and it was delicious o' clock.

Costs:

Check out Hurwundeki here, and Satan's Whisker's here.
I've started leaving out whether I've categorised something as Loner, Lover or Friend in the subtitle, as some of them were getting a little lengthy, and I figured the Lonely ones fosho might look a bit weird on bloglovin...

But for another yummy places to eat with a pal, check out Forza Win - Friend: Eat melted cheese with everything at Forza Win(ter)

Lover: Janxiety stopper number 5: Burgers, banoffee pie and buying houses with boyfriends

There ain't no therapy like retail therapy. One way to beat the January blues (I realise it is technically February now but the goings on of this post happened in Jan) is definitely to hit the January sales, ignore the looming credit card bills from Christmas and help the transformation into the better, shinier, new you of 2015 become a reality by buying lots of better shinier patent leather brogues/ sale price designer handbags/ leopard print faux fur coats (insert your purchase of choice here). Or if the ASOS sales don't do it for you, you could just make the biggest buy of your life and get a house. Talk about retail therapy.

I say buy a house but really I mean buy a flat. And when I say buy a flat, I mean make an offer on a flat and get it accepted.

As it turns out this is definitely not the be all and end all. There are still plenty of hurdles to jump over, even if you are a first time buyer and don't even have to worry about selling your property first. Really this post should be called "Burgers, banoffee pies and putting offers in on flats, and attempting to get a mortgage despite my constant overdraft use" but it didn't have the same ring to it.

I have listed the 4 massive house-buying no nos I've made, and ways not to make them towards the end of this post, but as a delicious meat patty between the boring seeded bun that is house buying I thought I'd tell you a little a bit about how Will and I celebrated our first mortgage offer in principle (that we then turned down). We headed to Hache, the London burger joint which began in Camden, and has now sprung up all over town.

Cos yep, Will and I are buying this flat together. Which does seem like a pretty big deal, considering we have only been together 3 and a half years, lived together for one and I am pretty confident he has no plans anytime soon to put a ring on it. And I am not pregnant, just to clarify. Some of you will probably read 3 and a half years, and think that is plenty of time, some will think it is very quick.

For Will and I the decision to buy together wasn't just cos we love each other, it was partly practical. We'd looked at buying separately within our budgets, and we could only afford what appeared to be ex crack dens on A roads in zone 4 of the tube, and so we decided to pool resources and buy a pretty 2 bedroom flat which is nice with a garden, in a lovely part of zone 3.

Some people, including one of my best friends who is getting married, has pointed out that it takes longer to get out of a joint mortgage than a marriage. I can sort of see what she means, but my rationale has always been that if I broke up with Will, and met some new person in 2 years time and had to explain I was renting out a property I still owned with my ex, that would seem a lot less odd, than if I mentioned I was divorced. For me, marriage is standing up in front of everyone you love, and saying I know I want to be with this person forever. Buying a flat is more like saying, I love you and I want this to work forever, and therefore I am going to bet on our future life and invest in it. Still a big deal, but for me not as much. (And Will and I are going to be sensible and see a lawyer who will draw up what happens if we break up, to make sure we both get out what we put in. How romantic).

Anyhoo, back to the burgers. Hache was quite a last minute choice, made when exhausted by panicked phonecalls to mortgage brokers we decided we needed wine, and couldn't cook. After looking into various Shoreditch establishments bursting to the brim at 7pm on a Thursday, we settled on Hache. Plenty of tables and no wait, but not eerily empty. I wasn't expecting that much, I mean I was expecting wine and a burger so I knew it would be pretty fabulous, but oh my giddy ants Hache burgers are amazing! (And I am someone who on Wednesday ate a bacon cheeseburger with deep fried macaroni cheese in it, so I really do know burgers. (That one was ok, at All Star Bowling Lanes, the meat patty let it down)). In short, I know burgers.

To date, my top burger in London is Five Guys - not the cutesiest burger place, but lovely moist, flavoursome burgers. But maybe, just maybe Hache has come along and topped it...

Inside Hache is quite cute with lots of fairy lights and angel wings. The staff are really attentive and the service is quick. Their menu is sort of "burgers around the world" which I was a bit sceptical of as I am not a fan of Fire and Stone's "pizzas around the world" - I don't like food genre mixing - but I ended up going with the Bavarian burger and boy it was good.

Buying houses means you cant afford haircuts even when you desperately need them...

It was topped with Bavarian smoked cheese which would always make it a winner for me (I've been known to carry those tubes of 70p smoked processed cheese in my handbag for a pick me up when I am out and about) but it was so much more than smoked cheese. The brioche bun was perfection, the steak burger was just the right amount of greasiness and just so scrummy that you would have been happy to eat it by itself, but that it was smothered in cheese and fried onions just made it a dream.

For pudding I had their banoffee pie which they recommended for 2, but it was so good I finished it all by myself (and I was so drunk I didn't take photos, sorry).

If you want to read on about the mistakes I've made whilst buying a flat, then please do. If you don't cos you are not buying houses and don't want to read advice about credit searches and limiting your glittery nail varnish outgoings, then that is ok too, though not to sound like your mother but you might appreciate it one day.

I am only a teensy way through the buying process, but here are some mistakes I've made so far, and what I've learnt so far:

1. Good grief get on your electoral roll and move all your bank statements and everything to where you live now.
According to TSB, only 21% of people check they are on an electoral roll before applying for a house. We knew we were on one, but because we weren't on one of the property we've been living in for 10 months, we were rejected by one mortgage provider. It all totally makes sense in your head, if you are only somewhere temporarily and if there has been nothing to vote on, why bother? But getting on the electoral roll is the easiest and cheapest thing to do on this list and loads of banks actually will reject you for being on one which isn't where you currently are renting. Similarly, all my bank accounts (as well as my voter's roll) were registered at my parents because it seemed safer but loads of providers don't like that, so as annoying as it is, move your bank accounts around with you, or at least move them to your current address at least two months before buying a place.


2. Stay out of your overdraft - even if it's interest free.
Some people are obviously very good with their finances - they never touch their overdraft, pay off any credit cards in full every month and use barely any of their agreed limit. They are going to get a mortgage easy peasy. I am not that person. There are also other types of people: people who miss credit card payments, take out payday loans and go over their agreed overdraft limit. Thankfully I am not that person either, because it is tricky to get a mortgage in that position. I am a bit of a middly person. I pay most of my credit card off, most of the time, and I never go anywhere near my limit, but I am perfectly happy living the last few days (/2 weeks) of the month in my interest free overdraft. Maybe this is a thing left over from student days but as it turns out, banks hate overdrafts, and they'd rather see you having balance on your credit card you haven't fully paid off than dipping into yours. Obviously for 3-6months before you apply for a mortgage cut back on spending, but when push comes to shove prioritise staying out that overdraft rather than paying off 100% of your credit card.

3. Know the difference between hard and soft credit searches
When you apply for a mortgage in principle, some banks do a hard credit search and some do a soft one. A hard basically means it shows on your credit score, a soft means only you can see it. If you have hard credit search and you get declined then it shows on your credit score like a big no no for all the banks that follow. If you are thinking of applying for a bank which does a hard credit search (some banks and almost all building societies do) then just make sure you check all of their eligibility criteria properly first, even if you are working with a broker. Not all banks are the same, some might be ok with you being on an electoral roll at your parents, some won't. Some will overlook missed credit card payments and payday loans that happened over 3 years ago, some won't. Make sure you fit the specific bank's eligibility criteria before applying for a hard search, and do a bit of googling. Are people moaning online about how they've been declined? Then that provider might be a hard nut to crack.

4. Get organised.
 Even if you are just sussing out the market and are going to pick a solicitor and bank/mortgage broker later, just do it before you even start looking. You'll know better what you can afford, you might have more time to rectify mistakes 1&2 and it means if your dream property comes up you won't have to make loads of big snap decisions in 24 hours. Like we did.

I am not going to tell you how much it costs to buy a house, cos I just do not want to know how much I have already spent on mortgage application fees, solicitors and surveyors, basically the answer is shitloads, but below is how much a night at Hache burger will cost:

You can book a reservation at Hache here.

Yum. Another scrumptious meal out in the east end at Story Deli... Lover: Pizza at Story Deli