Blog Clog?

I have to be honest, I can't find it within myself to become completely thrilled by blogging. I know I do it and so that makes me slightly (ok very) lame for contradicting myself, but I honestly cannot see how it becomes the window to something bigger, something more.

The way I see it, it is an outlet for individual needs, to express explain or rant about something that matters to them, but it doesn't actually open any doors.

I know for others, the lucky ones, it has opened that door, but in amongst all the bloggers just trying to make it onto the 'scene' of something that used to be considered for those who are 'cool' and all knowing on the rarity of expressing yourself onto a computer screen, it now clogs up the blogsphere. It is truly hard to find something special in amongst all the wanabee writers and social bloggers, where is the diamond in the rough, and how long do I have to search to discover it?

I want to read a blog that matters, that makes a difference to me.... something that makes me think, challenge my views, consider another, and want to read more. So far, I have found two. One of an old friend who blogs so eliquently his words stick in my head for weeks, in exact prose, swirling and taunting me on how I didn't think of that first. I like that though, it's challening, engaging, annoying? haha! Another is a commercial blog, not so much a diamond in the rough. It's called amusing planet and looks at odd things that happen around the world each day... it provides excellent pictures and entertainment.

But it isn't it sad that for the half a year or so that I have found myself a member of the blogging sphere, I have only found these two that tickle my fancy? I hate that someone may stumble across my blog, and hate it, but love that they may enjoy it. I love blogging, but it confuses me. I want to say what I have to say, but should I present myself how others may want to see me?
Do i NEED to bE purfekt?
I wanna spell things wrong, not out of laziness, but because I can't actually spell them, without coming across as stupid... I just wanna say what I'm thinking. But the annoying thing is I want it to matter to someone else, as much as it matters to me, and I'm not sure that in amongst all the others with something to say, I'm just another person, with something to say. Where's the unique-ness in that? But at the same time, who wants to be the cocky one, who is the unique one?

So, whilst I'm still struggling with the concept of blogging, I find myself persevering in the hope that one day I shall have an epiphany and realise why I continue to do this.

Itch

It's that time.
It's happening, it's coming, daunting, looming, growing nearer, edging towards us, creeping through the shadows and leaping out when you least want or expect it to. It grabs you by the throat and twists you until you forget how it all started. It lodges itself inside your mind, swirling, vortexing, making it all happen, making it all start.
Then it happens.
Your feet.. they want to move. All . The . Time.
Your hands, they want to twiddle.
You, You, You want to move. Somewhere, anywhere.

It's the itch.

And I've got it bad.

No... it's not some kind of STI you dirty minded creep, or a disease, its the itch for something different. I know my entire life turned upside down, oh only 3 months ago, but yet, I want more. Nothing ever seems good enough, a worthy enough change.

I wanna be somewhere else. Busier, more hustle and bustle. More knocking on the elbow and almost getting run over, more everything.

I want busy-body fever, I want it all!!

And guess what, pretty soon, I'm gunna get it. I'm moving again, this time from outskirts of town in to student halls... it's about bloody time! And I can't wait.

I think the itch has started because it knows what's coming, it can sense it, smell it, it's almost close enough to touch, yet still every so slightly unimaginable, making the itch thrive. It wants to know more, it wants details, it wants times, when, where, how will it all happen, why me? Why has my itch been chosen above others, is mine greater? Is mine thirstier?

It means the tunnel is coming to a close, and this chapter of year one is (not so) sadly over. It means I can start almost fresh again, see unfamiliar faces again, voices, feel like I'm in a totally new place, when I'm not.

I'm too restless. If I don't like change, I don't wait, don't watch the minutes tick by, I move forward as fast as possible, morphing the change into the itch, then hopefully a new change thereafter.

I can't wait... (I blame the itch)

Sleep Deprived And On Overdrive

I swear I actually have insomnia... I know I know I am one of millions that do the same thing... can't sleep so blog instead!! Ridiculous... but we do it for an outlet, so leave us be!

But yeah, I honestly am worried, I think I am a potential or actual insomniac. And a bit of a hedgehog, meaning during the day... no problemo in sleeping for hours at a time, however, once night falls, nothing happens. I am awake, bright as a button, after drifting through the day like some zombie idiot. Eyes open, brain on overdrive. Yet during the hours of actual sunlight, there is nothing, no activity and the day breezes past me. Weird huh?

Hmm, now I think about it the weirder it seems.

Do you ever do that? Think of one thing too much, then the concept flies out the window and doesn't seem normal any more, even though it hasn't actually changed. Like when you say one word over and over until it doesn't sound right, but you know it is! Why does the human mind do that? Is it a mean little trick to confuse us?

And why am I thinking of all these questions? I feel hyper active ... too much to think about and do, so little time and my fingers only allow me to type so fast.

When I get into this little weird state it takes me hours until I finally fall asleep, and even then it is restless, dream ridden and uncomfortable, right up until that moment when the alarm clock goes off and then it's the best nights sleep in the world and I don't want it to end! Yeah, when I'm in this state I start thinking really odd things. Recently, I have managed to convince myself that there is a ghost in my room and whenever I feel a sudden gust of air (the covers falling off me in the night usually) I freak out. Over nothing. If I can see the light from my laptop across the room, I convince myself its a supernatural being, even though it isn't. And once again, freak out.

I do other weird things in my sleep... when it happens. Today, I had a full conversation, by text, with my best friend without evening knowing I had done it! I woke up to my phone buzzing, read a message that made no sense, looked back over my messages and realised for the last 20 minutes we'd been chatting and I didn't remember any of it.

I'm slightly worried... I'd love to do one of those sleep tests, when they put wires on you and measure your brain activity to see if my weirdness is in fact normal and less towards the scale of crazy town.

Night all.

Loneliness

I always thought before I moved away to Uni that I would be fine living by myself. Okay granted I'm technically not alone, I do have three housemates, but really I am alone - I'm with strangers. In a house of other people who are also alone.
This past few weeks I've realised how lonely it can be, living on your own.
I don't mind my own company, I can mess around being a general loser having hairbrush singing moments as often as I like, eating everything without feeling bad or like a disgusting pig, stay in trackies all day and do the clean freak thing.
But who am I kidding?
Being on your own sucks. I obviously am one of these people-persons... but I'm starting to wonder why the lack of constant human interaction is what is getting me down? Why does that make me feel like this?

I don't think I will ever understand it, it's just depressing!

I am one of these people that live for the weekend - so to speak. I LOVED weekends back home, I could get loads of stuff done ... go visit a member of my enormous family, catch up with friends, chill out completely, club club club, buy new clothes, work.

And now... I have no money so it's not like I can go out loads. And I live far away from town unlike all my friends so I'd have to pay for a taxi - soooo expensive - especially when your ALONE because all your housemates have left you and gone home for the weekend, for the millionenth weekend running. So my friends are out, my housemates are out, what am I doing?

When your alone, you think too much. Time passes slowly and you find yourself embroiled in pointless activity after pointless activity, ending up with boiled mashed brain for breakfast the next day. It makes you think... the alone bug creeps in... paranoia sets in, worthlessness.

I sound a bit suicidal sorry!! haha... I'm not but I've found myself writing this at one of the moments I've just described - at the bottom of the pit when you get all stupid and emotional.

PT Manners Matter ??

I don't know if everyone thinks the same way I do, but I have always thought that when using PT (public transport) there are unwritten rules that apply. Recently though, I have noticed that many tend to ignore/trample all over/completely piss on these rules, displaying no sense of group respect that fellow travellers do follow. Usually I would turn a blind eye, but I honestly couldn't believe my eyes at these encounters, and thought you'd find them as funny as I do now I'm excluded from the situation!

Examples you ask?? Many.

This weekend I've decided to come home, as lovely as my life with no money or home comforts is at university I really REALLY miss my double bed, so decided that I needed an escape... sort of like a mini holiday! To me, a holiday starts the second you leave the door. So, there's me, coat clad with THE heaviest bag known to man (including a laptop, a LOT of make up and hair products and some shoes) trapsing down the road towards the bus stop ... glamourous image! So... seeing me in this 'state' Mr I-Own-The-Pavement not only stares me up and down as we walk towards one another, he smirks at the bag of goodies then proceeds to continue walking faster yet towards me, without moving out the way, when I dodge, he dodges, like he actually wants me to 'accidentally' smack his bollocks with giant hacki-sac of rocks until they shrink into the size of raisens screaming "WHYYYY?" It's like he saw me in my state and purposely decided to be a pavement hogging bully!! How rude. Worse still, this appalling excuse for a pedestrian then pressed on with being vile and checked me out VERY obviously. (Okay okay you think I feel genuinely secretly a little flattered... but I honestly was not in the mood to be flattered by some old guy who looks like a fish monger... really?? no thanks) So this was lack of unwritten PT (sort of) rules for my journey home.

Then, I get to the bus stop. I sit down next to someone who I couldn't even describe as male or female (lets just say if it's questionable, it's never a good thing... unless of course that's the look your going for, each to their own!) They then decided that my bag was far too intimidating and promptly stood up... preferring to stand rather than have me sat next to them. So then there's the awkward feeling of 'oh shit do I smell bad?' and then trying to secretly smell yourself in a public place without anybody noticing. Or is that there is a giant condom wrapper stuck to my shoe? Or a big bogey sticking out my nose... BATS IN THE CAVE!! What did I do, why was I rejected by a seemingly transexual at the bus stop midday on a Friday? Do I not look good enough to sit next to and forever be linked to through this bus stop experience? Clearly not.

Ahh well... after this person wanted to share no part of their day with anybody in public... Mr My-Phone-Is-My-1-True-Love-In-Life wanted to share his entire day. I've found there are certain people in this world who just happen to be unlucky at choosing seats on PT... I so happen to be one of them. Drawn to unique-ness and obscurities I often, accidentally might I add, pick the worst seat on the bus. I flop down relieved to no longer be weighed by enormous bag onto a seat behind a man who appears to have torrettes and cannot stop moving his head and shaking it dramatically every time someone of ethnic origin happens to climb aboard the PT shitty express. Great, a wiggly racist. Then, Mr I-Love-My-Phone joins the 'gang' of stragglers and within 30 seconds the iphone 4G is ringing away, he picks up, lips slightly parted begins to speak, but hang on wait...
Some Turkish monster has taken over his entire body and is extremely angry with the poor bastard on the end of line... his buttocks rise slightly from his seat as if he is skiing on Wii sports, with slightly less grace... think of a small child trying to fart in public quietly whilst sat down! (a small child/me!? what... I have no idea what your talking about?! :-0) He clenches his fists, knuckles turning purple with the anticipation of what other Turkish monster is going to reply with, what will his come back be? Well the entire bus seems utterly overjoyed with the 'conversation' phone lover is having, wiggly racist in particular, and all can hear both sides of the story. Of course, this is England, I am English, and frankly, do not understand nor speak Turkish, so to me it was like the incredible drone of a baby crying in a changing room - annoying, overpowering on all emotion in your body and incredibly frustrating.
Not only did I want to hurl this piece of machinery down the bus and through the windscreen just to entertain and change the atmosphere, I also wanted to hunt down and personally attack whoever it was that kept calling him! Wonderful start to my holiday actually...

Thankfully, people on the train had slightly more manners than these. Oh, that is apart from that awkward moment when you catch somebodies eye by accident and they linger a little too long, and then you spend the entire train journey trying to not look in their direction just in case the paths of our retinas happen to cross once more. I enjoy people watching - I consider it one of many strange hobbies that every human being possess' whether they know it consciously or not. It's always, what ARE they wearing, oh dear her pants are tucked in her knickers or I wonder what they're listening to on their ipod. human behaviour is something all other humans are interested in - just not when it involves bad manners in public spheres!

Okay, I know I am a little anal for feeling worked up by my encounters with those from planet moron who haven't yet been trained in PT manners, but it bothers me!
What happens if it becomes acceptable for people to start picking through your hair and eating the bugs buried within - lets remain slightly civilised please.

The Sunny Side of the Street?

Recently, I've had one thing on my mind.

NOT that... you dirter!

Money. As a student there is nothing more worrying than knowing your a hundred into your overdraft - and counting. It's a constant struggle to stay above the 0 line, and the only thing that worries me is knowing I have enough money to eat! (Food is important ... yummm)

So... get a job, problem solved! Simple, right?

Unbelievably, irritatingly, terrifically... wrong.

Getting a job when you only live in one place for 41 weeks of the year is very very VERY difficult. I have been turned down by about ten different places now, and the confidence is starting to get knocked.
"Are you a student?" "Yes"... "Sorry but we don't take on students"
"Do you go home for christmas?" "Yes"... "Sorry we're only looking for christmas staff to work boxing day and new years day"
"Have you got experience in chopping peoples heads off? We're only looking for dickhead employees I'm afraid"

You see a bunch of headlines month after month moaning and exploiting the figures of how much in debt the average student gets across the front pages of every national newspaper... yet no where will employ a student! Why not sort out the job market, then place your bets on how many students would jump at the chance to have enough money to cook themselves something other than Asda's own chicken flavoured super noodles... which taste like utter shite FYI!? Why not see how many would rather see themselves slowly creep out of the overdraft which so kindly is there for the back up plan? Why not wait and see how many students would love to earn money and know they can buy new shoes!!

It seriously grates on me how these rich kid government bodies have the cheek to winge at the poorest in the country, whilst sitting in a shiny polished swanky office, with a personal assistant and tea and cake on tap. How about they get paid less, and invest more tax payers money into what matters, so then the entire country doesn't come out of our education system in a sea of debt while they pop their feet up on a designer leather sofa and watch a 100" bloody TV!

Yes, being a student is hard. It's a reality. But it's made a whole lot harder being in this kind of environment where the government detests you for wacking up your debts, yet they're the people who set the tuition fee's, employers won't take you on unless you have a degree and said debt, food bills are ever-growing, yet the cheapest stuff to buy is the stuff that results in obesity, but we have a government working on a healthy eating campaign.

Everything to me seems like a massive contradiction and that is why... ITS FRUSTRATING and i'm mini protesting by being a lazy bum with no job!!

Rant over... good night.

Live Your Life and Laugh

This past week I've been completely hyper-active and in a 'live life' sort of mood. I've wanted to do everything, go everywhere, every party and every social event. I've wanted to buy every item of clothing I can lay my grubby child-like excited hands on. I've wanted to try one of each sweet, lick each lollypop and eat everything in the cupboard (which I've done ... woopps!!). I've wanted to write a blog post each day... but haven't because there's been too much going on. I've wanted to listen to every new CD going, but can't afford to buy it... spotify is the saviour of that situation.

Seriously I've never wanted to cram so much in. And this week has flown! It's been amazing!! 

I know this is going to sound ridiculous, but I am one of the only people I know, bar my housemate Erin - we're were practically separated at birth, who didn't go to the cinema to see Avatar when it was released. This week - that cherry popped, excuse the pun. And I've been missing out!! Why didn't I get off my lazy arse and go and see it in IMAX 3D? One is highly disappointed in one's self. It was amazing... James Cameron has one hell of an imagination! 

So, this in mind, I've been prompted to say 'yes' rather than no to opportunities that come my way... and I'm even fishing for more to do! This is possibly the most alive and active I've ever wanted to be, and I'm loving it!! 

Last night, I went to see Tinie Tempah in concert at an o2 academy near where I live. It was amazingly good, he is so much better live than I ever imagined! He sang with Chiddy Bang and Joe Robinson, as well as plowing through his own set for a good hour and a bit! The only problem though... 

I'm a midget compared to the rest of the human race. At 5"6 I thought I was pretty tall for a girl... apparently not!! Sir McGiant was stood in front of me, so tall I couldn't see his head when I looked up, just a mass of shoulders staring back at me! At one point I laughed and poked my tounge out at a friend, just as Sir McGiant shuffled backwards... I licked a total stranger, and he tasted like student. Miss McPleasant was not impressed. After wondering if he would ever moved, I eventually mustered up the courage to poke him and ask if he'd mind me standing in front of him so I could see, hoping he wouldn't roar and eat me alive due to my stupid request. Luckily he didn't, and I did get to see the last ten minutes of the concert :) 

So, carrying on with the idea of living life... tonight I am going out on a pub crawl, it is Friday after all... dressed pub golf style with 70 other mad drunken first years... it's going to be beautiful... I'll let you know if I can get a hole in one...

Sweet Dreams

I actually have a weird kind of love for those days where you feel utterly invincible.
Like you could just take a giant leap of faith (or off the side of a massive rock pertruding into the sea?) like you could hold your breath underwater for a minute, like taking a hot bowl of chicken super-noodles from the microwave isn't painful and impossible.

Usually when I am on the receiving end of one of those days, I grab it and run with it, you see, it's a rare occurrence and I like to rinse it!

Today was one of those days, as I'm sure you've guessed by now. I've washed my clothes (for once), cleaned my room, did some uni work, put up more posters even though the blu-tack stains the walls and I know it's against the 'rules'. And now I've climbed into bed feeling satisfied that I've achieved some organisation back into my life - I know it won't last before you laugh at my stupidity at thinking I will ever be mentioned in the same sentence as the word organised - and guess what... I can't sleep.... like usual! And hopefully the annoying tapping of the keyboard is keeping my housemates up so I'm not alone.... hehehe!!

So why is it, when you feel you've achieved something, when you feel like its all been packed in and you could have done more, you can't seem to relax and catch some zzz's... but when you've sat around all day like some giant fat whale eating nothing but penguin's and laughing at the shitty jokes on the wrapper, watched some dire old movies, spent valuable time doing sweet f all... you can sleep like an absolute baby!? WHY? It's so unfair. I feel cheated.

I know I know, when your a lolling stinking trackie wearing whale for the day your brain doesn't even turn on so it's easy to slide back into the sweet abyss of sleep.... but why? I just find it so irritating!!

And why is it that when you eventually do fall asleep after jam packed day you always have the weirdest  dreams that seem to leave you either drenched in a cold sweat or waking up at inappropriate hours and unable to fall back into night-time paralysis? My most recent, very urr, interesting dream was that I could change into a cat at will and climb through my downstairs toilet window. A ginger cat. I could see myself. As funny as this seems I woke up feeling concerned... what does this say about me? What's this strange purring noise coming form my throat? Why is there hair on my head? Am I a cat?
And then you loose all sense of reality, absolutely crap yourself that you've magically turned into a cat in the space of 6 hours, and can't sleep for the next 3.

Devastating.  

Night all.

The Sun In My Eyes and The World At My Feet

I always find it really hard to name a blog post so if this one doesn't really make much sense then I do apologise!

I feel like a women in melt-down today. Student life is hitting me, and by jove is it hitting me hammer strikingly hard.

I went out last night (story of my life) to 'THE WHITE RAVE'... basically a big student party where everyone wears white boilers suits and practically nothing underneath and squirt each other with bonkers UV paint! haha! It was such a good laugh, but I somehow thought it would be a good idea to drink a ridiculous amount. The pre-drinking is where it all started... I had a choice, apple sours shots or nice chilled bottle of wine. This time I chose the shots, for maximum effect hehehe. Feeling like a cheeky school-girl who has never done a shot before I lined up 8 shots on the kitchen table and drank my way to happy land where only green tounged monsters are allowed in. We then (me and my 2 housemates) went to a halls party where the drinking and chatting continued. It was here that I decided that this was the perfect moment to drink an entire bottle of wine, in an hour, to myself. We then headed to the party where I bought a number (4) of Jaeger Bombs. Smoooth.

Someone was very drunk last night.

And as a result I have not eaten properly all day. My stomach is still doing flips and it's half ten at night... bluughh. World of pain.

Today I have had 2 chocolate spread sandwhiches and a packet of skips, tried to eat some pizza, miserably failed. boo!

So, after waking up at about 12, the day proceeded in what I can only describe as the most un-productive day of my life where I just loll around feeling ill and sorry for myself, chat on the phone, try to eat, watch TV on my laptop (that's right NO TV! bluu) and try desperately to concentrate this fabulous new found energy on my uni work.
It didn't work. Turns out I'm crap with hangovers.

So now at half ten when all I wanna be doing is sleeping, I'm blog writing, after finishing three assignments in a row! woop! Living the dream.

Actually I know I probably won't sleep anyway, the worry of knowing that I am know living in my overdraft is freaking me right out.... ahh! I don't like that I can have a seemingly endless supply of money, but I have to pay it back afterwards... what happened to free love, free money anyone? I need to buy books, but my recent party animal and drinking habits which result in me eating the contents of the cupboards and needing more food, means that my supplys are running lower and lower below the poor line as I go and I can't afford them.

Changing the subject, the positive of my day is the music I have found a new love for... Hed Kandi Beach House... THE best album I ever bought. Chilled dance vibes mixed with funky house and gorgeous lyrics all blends into one chilled, yet still upbeat album. I skipped forward to the John James continuous mix.... SEXUAL! One hour of butterflies in the stomach. Have you ever listened to something and it reminds you of a feeling or emotion? That's just what this music does to me, I relax my body but inside there are memories circulating and clouding my vision of boring everyday life... all I can think of is the time or place it takes me back to, or the person :) It can actually be strong enough of a memory sometimes to make my day, or break me down. I love it! If you ever find the music that can do that to you, listen to it on repeat all day everyday... such a good feeling!!

Click here. Favourite track of the entire album.

"Who... keeps changing your mind" aahhhhh I LOVE IT!! Reminds me so much of listening to it on the beach on holiday, sandy feet, waves, palm tress ... bliss!!

20 Minutes Shaped The Day

It really bugs me that I appear to have turned into some creature of the night.
During the day my eyes are heavy, I feel wobbly, a bit like my brain is saying one thing and my body another, and I keep falling asleep at inappropriate moments (like in important lectures)!
Okay, so the last five nights I've probably slept an average of 5 hours a night... good excuse for tiredness right?

So... WHY can't I sleep? At normal human hours. All day I lollop around like some useless doped up jellyfish wishing I could sleep and fighting the urge to curl up on the lecture hall floor and have a snooze. Then when night does fall and I eventually climb into bed hoping to get all squish and comfy, I'm wide awake.

All I can think of is what I've done in my day, usually how manic and crazy it's been, what I'm supposed to be doing tomorrow, and was supposed to do today, feeling guilty about it, then wondering if I should just stay up and do it or not.

Isn't it annoying that the one thing I was meant to be writing tonight, a 250 word assignment, I found impossible to start, impossible to even contemplate doing, and now when I'm actually supposed to be catching up on some shut eye I just can't help myself but to blog about it.... and like usual, I'm hardly stuck for words. I stared into my computer screen longingly for about an hour thinking and over analysing anything remotely good that I came up with. I think that's why I never struggle to blog, it's me and my style and I know that there's no mark at the end, no commitment I have to make to try my best, I can just spill my thoughts onto a page in the exact order that I think them.

I wish my hands could type as fast as I think... I keep thinking of good lines I wanna say then by the time my fingers have caught up its lost in the endless mass of my thoughts.

And it's so frustrating!

I really really don't think I will ever understand why the only time I seem to be able to blog is at such ungodly hours, when only hedgehogs and bats should be awake.

I think it's because I keep thinking about an interview I did today for the assignment I was supposed to be writing. I had to find an elderly person and ask them about their life, their earliest memory and get as much detail as possible from them. I stopped a few people in the street and asked them and every time my request was either ignored or politely refused... I think the fact that I am younger than 40 scared them off!! (oh and I met a women with THE most disgusting teeth in the entire world, note to self: look after teeth... don't want yellow moulders like that! yuk) But then I met a lovely man called John, aged 72. I bought him a cappuccino in a nearby cafe and we sat and talked. It wasn't your simple question and answer, he asked me about my life, I asked him about his, we discussed technology and current affairs, his childhood, mine and above all else, how good the chocolate brownies looked. Before either of us had realised we'd been sat there for 20 minutes, drinks empty.

I found it amazing that I managed to have a conversation with someone out of thin air, and without sounding ageist, a good conversation with a 72 year old man, who I clearly have nothing in common with. If all of society was like that for just 20 minutes a day, the world would be a much happier place.

I like to think my random interview and coffee made him happy, mixed up his routine a bit and gave him something to smile about (talking to someone in a hoodie and realising they didn't wanna stab him), you know, a kind of surprise. I think old people are scared of young people, they don't understand them and think they all are rude and ignorant. I like to think that today I proved him wrong... after all, he certainly proved me wrong. I was under the impression that the stories your old relatives tell you are boring and last for hours.... but no!

So I guess I'm kind of laying here now in awe a little bit of todays random interaction and how that 20 minutes proved to make me smile for the rest of the day. Dumbstruck actually.

I'm on the old people hunt from now on!

Blogspiration

Have officially made massive boob-up... and miraculously gotten away with it! WOOO!

Actually though... I'm now kind of wishing I didn't get away with it.

Here's todays sob story... do feel free to laugh, at this ungodly hour (tis 2311 hours sir) I am STILL awake and have been given some blogspiration... a quickie way of ranting out the shit-of-the-day.
Right, when I was 15 n a bit I worked for a hair salon close to where I lived as a way of earning some dolla' and I seriously loved it! I spent my wages the day I got them, on mostly hair products, highlights, getting my nails done, etc etc etc... sooo.... cleverly I thought, I'm now in Bournemouth, jobless, with some experience in salon's, living next to a high street with about 100 of them... maybe, just maybe I should try my luck with one and see if anything comes of it. I picked the one I was most drawn to, went in and tried my luck, left my details and then waited.
For about 3 days.

Got a phone call, got a job basically as a junior doing all the shitty jobs no-one else wants to do... which is fine with me, I don't want to do hair dressing, it merely interests me and I like watching how they do everything (gay voyeur basically just minus the gay part).
I was told to come along (today) for a trial. That was for the entire day... 9 till half 5.
I, cleverly and wisely as usual, thought this indicated I had the job, was being paid for the job, was classified as new staff and therefore prepared myself for the usual poky questions you don't wanna answer from other employees, hunted down the nearly dead and buried smart work attire and actually washed my hair the night before in prep.

However, I was working at the nightclub (I'm a promo girl by night... haha, I even have flyers!!) the night before, last night, and didn't finish till 1am... and was then lured inside with the temptation of free entry, free drinks and free VIP treatment. My friend and I cleverly decided on a voddy and coke each, a shot each and a good old wholesome boogie, followed by a nice yummy (and well deserved) bag of chips, complete with the moaning and groaning of blistered feet and tiredness from a sober-ish night on the town. I flopped into bed at 3am... reached for Cosmo and got lost in the glossy pages for the following hour, and eventually slipped into a happy state of sleep.

One vital factor was ignored throughout this very glamorous process (ehem)... my 7 AM START the following day.

I did set my alarm so the effort was in part there... but I did sleep through it. On day 1 of new job.

HOLY SHIT!!!

So I did wake up, when my housemate flushed the loo at 9.25am after stinking the loo out after an enormous poop. Lush wake up call...

That moment when I reached across to my phone to check the time, then jumped from my bed clutching the little piece of shoddy failure machinery in my hands with a look of dramatic disbelief on my face, would have been priceless to watch as a fly on the wall. I panicked.

What does one do when one cocks up so spectacularly?

Run around in leapord print pj bottoms, with hair stuck to my face with sleep, pillow creased forehead and sticky dribble stained cheeks (I'm the picture of beauty in the mornings, I think if you put me in an issue of Vogue looking like that the readers would think they'd confused their monthly purchase with that of MarwellZoo Weekly)... clutching my blackberry and screaming at pooper-housemate about the crapness of my alarm "IT CANT BE LOUD ENOUGH IF I SLEPT THROUGH IT" and "WHAT AM I MEANT TO DO NOW, CRAP FIRST IMPRESSION WOWWWWW!!!"

That's right folks, I overslept by 2 and a half hours. Impressive work ay? I'm weirdly proud... is that wrong?

I still went though, I swallowed any dignity I had left and trapsed there in order to make a desperate attempt at bum-licking them to like me. Which worked. They want me to work there.

Sucks really that after all that effort and panic the job is crap money, poop hours and I didn't actually get paid for 8 hours work today. Even though I must have served about a million cups of coffee to wet haired strangers and squash to their annoying over hyper children in school uniform, and even washed their hair!! Bare hands, old lady wrinkle folded head = gaggy me.

Oh the irony...

So this is my blogspiration, rant about my shizer day and hope it makes for a funny post...

It's now 2334 hours and I'm starting to see the funny side.

Fresh Fish to Fry

It's official.
I am. In fact. A. FRESSSHHHEERRR!!

This past week plus a bit has been the most manic and bonkers week of my life, with more highs than anyone on illegal substances! I have had two nights in since last Sunday... one of those being right now, where I am chilling and supposed to be catching up on sleep, ready to party hard tomorrow night. I've drunk way too much, partied till my feet have bled and forced me to go home, seen my favourite music live (hed kandi), been to the beach several times, met amazing new people annndddd..... SURVIVED! (so far at least)

Now, I knew that Uni would be a challenging, interesting and above all fun experience, but I don't think anything can ever prepare you for the degree of which all those things present themselves.

The adrenaline that pumps through you when you realise the key in your hand is the one for your OWN (kind of) house, that it is your key to your house! Bizzare feeling.
That you realise your not at home, this is now home. That you get to know, and first meet your housemates, the fellow freshers... your new friends... and to start with your only friends.

It's a strange moment when you realise that the washing up surrounding and consuming the sink in the kitchen wasn't the spew of some evil kitchen nightmarish monster but it is in fact the mess and destruction caused by your own vain attempt at cooking a decent enough meal. It's also annoying when you realise it's you that has to clear it all up afterwards, and again the next day, and again, and oh did I mention, again the next day!?

I love how in my first week here, reality hit hard. I wash my clothes a lot at home... now, not so much. I have to wear a top more than once before its accepted to the pile of filthy laundry that desperately needs to be a, picked up off my floor, and b, actually washed, dried and put away. I have one simple solution.... NAKEDNESS forever, and therefore never creating clothes to be washed (I don't think this plan would work though)

I'm finding it strange to cook things for the first time without someone else to lean on and ask strange questions to. Example from last week, my housemate decided that in order to make chilli con carne, baked beans were a key ingredient! The chilli then was too big for just one person so the rest was stored in a plastic container in the fridge... for 5 days. The chilli then decided it had made some serious enemies in that fridge, that there wasn't enough space for all the food we'd bought and it wanted out, or everything else out for some more homely space. It decided to start decomposing, in our fridge. Nice. the smell of putrid chilli started wafting throughout the kitchen, until it became the first thing you noticed when opening the fridge door! Luckily, we discovered the chilli trauma before it was too late and my housemate decided the strange bean-rotting-meat combo would make a tasty snack.... we chucked it. Thank god. However, another trauma and realisation resulted from this... bins need to be actually emptied. Where is our outside bin, what is the bin day? Where shall we put it if it overflows? We need to buy bin bags. What if someone (some very odd someone) tries to steal our bin from us!?

This week in my often blind panics and strange new moments I have discovered that freshers week is when you figure out EVERYTHING.... not just that your tolerance level to wine and vodka combined isn't as high as you think and that those pictures you took last night hold no place in your memory and really don't look that good... but that stupid and embarrassing experiences, lead to realisations of how things in this world actually work. To get to the rainbow you have to stand the rain (quote stolen from a friend's facebook status but I feel it holds true for this)... the rain being all the stupid, disgusting and weird mistakes made along the way, the rainbow being when it finally dawns on you not to mix whites and colours in the washing machine.

I wonder what the rest of this week has in store...

Letting Go

Now, I am a teenage girl. And, as you may or may not know, teenagers are very VERY busy bees... lots to do, always rushing around, people to see and places to be. Socialising is of course on the top of the list, as is tidying my room (don't make me laugh!).


It appears to me recently that there is always an unfinished task, something I haven't got to, someone I haven't gone to visit in a while, something I was supposed to do aggeeess ago that I still haven't done. But never did I realise in my own business that I have been letting go...


Of myself!!


I haven't plucked my eyebrows in weeks... in fact I don't even remember the last time I did it! Probably when I wrote New Discovery... Of The Most Odd Kind when I plucked the living crap out of my face and ended up looking like an angry red faced grump with no upper facial hair for 2 weeks. Luckily, nobody noticed my lack of co-ordination and precision when armed with tweezers, clearly my large fringe is a gift from God and hides my mistakes/'reconstructions' well. 


Oh how I wish I could say the same right now... my fringe has outrun my nose in the running race and is exposing my eyebrows. 


From now on, just call me bush baby. 


That is the only name I can now answer to.


I can't win! My efforts to tame the fluffy monsters last time resulted in teeny slugs wiggling across my face, and now, in all my important business of being important and very busy, I have forgotten all about them, left them to flourish and grow back into their enormous usual selves. 


And the reason for noticing my random transformation into bush child? Recent photographic evidence. The camera never lies... and those babies are pretty damn hard to hide! I do not wish to be mistaken for a man. Not until at least I reach old enough age when I'm too grumpy, deaf and blind to care. Then, and only then, is letting go in such an appalling manner acceptable! 


Good day!

Love Without Wings Can Be Twice As Nice

I've just returned home after a meal out with some friends and it has literally just hit me what amazing people I'm leaving behind.

"Friends are the family you choose"
"Friendship is love without his wings"

Never could two quotes make more sense to me and relate so well.
True friends will forever be there, no matter what the distance, obstacles or dilemmas you face between you. You can rack up the miles, tick of the days, weeks or even months since you last saw them and never question the magnitude of your friendship.
Bonds that are made between friends are the ones that leave finger, even footprints, over your mind, heart and soul - the memories you create will never leave you and will last a lifetime.
A lover can be an easier one to find, attraction will lead the way for you, making your mind up on first sighting. But a good friendship, a good girlfriend, is a harder thing to come across. There's no obvious attraction (well, not always haha), no obvious pointers that your souls could be linked, no obvious trademarks of interests, hobbies or topics of conversation... so how is a friend spotted. How are they made?

I think it's a beautiful thing how one small moment in life, such as holding open a door, or picking up someone's pen for them, can possibly affect the rest of your life. That person that you've glanced at momentarily could become someone so important to you, someone you lean on, someone you trust and someone you miss, and at that first moment meeting, you don't even know it yet.

So, friends are people you meet randomly right? No... I think it's already decided. The opportunity to meet them is presented to you, it's your decision if you take it up or not. You didn't have to hold open that door, nor pick up that pen. You didn't have to glance their way, you just happened to. You didn't have to bump into them again, or speak to them again at work, ask them a question, find out they are a lot nicer than you first judged, then realise you've made a friend... it was a choice, whether conscious or subconscious, it was a choice you made to persue that friendship... thus "friends friends are the family you choose".

It makes me sad that tonight I have only just realised how great the girls I've worked with for the last two years actually are, each individual with their own ticks and quirks, but that's what made me love them in the first place - it's only when I know I'm leaving it behind in 5 days time, that I truly found how much those friendships mean to me, no matter how close we are or aren't. Now I know I'm leaving it behind, I wanna grip on and never let go...

Thanks for the memories... <3

Ticking By...

Time seems to escape me.

I have no grip on it, no fix, no hold, no ability to slow it down or speed it up.
It feels like just weeks ago that I was sitting in a stinky, crusty green school hall waiting to hear my secondary school tutor group read out to me like I was in Harry Potter, gripped with nerves and waiting to see if I would be in sporty Ravenclaw or shoddy Hufflepuff (sadly, my tutor was the equal to the latter), hoping I would be paired with my friends and could escape social retardation for at least the next 5 years.
And now I'm here.
Limbo. Waiting, watching as the seconds tick by.
Summer came and went. The first girls holiday, the solo work experience, the last family holiday, the exam results, the car breaking down, the room being filled with new things, old things, ready-to-pack things.
It's all come, and its all gone, quicker than my eyes and brain could wrap around it to digest and take it in.
It feels like only yesterday that I was sat in that hall, aged 12. Now, I'm 18, and about to move out. Childhood is officially over. And it feels weird.

I can't decided if I'm unbearably terrified at the prospect of surviving this world alone, or if I'm excited.
Really though... will I ever be excited to cook my own meals. I'm hardly a domestic goddess, and know that on several occasions, the bad stomach wasn't alcohol related, it was a serious case of God-save-me-from-this-hellhole-of-a-kitchen-I-cannot-cook-beans-on-toast-to-save-my-life-I-have-actually-poisened-myself-AGAIN syndrome!
If I'm excited time will drag, I'll watch every second, feel every minute as if it passed like an hour, waste time thinking about how slowly time is moving. But I know if I'm terrified, it will come faster than anything I've ever known, and time will have flown by like a race horse on speed, and before I know it, I'll be there, without a cheese grater - much to the disgust of a million girl-guides who'll all tut at me under their breath 'be prepared'. ha!
I think I'm a happy (?) medium - excited about being terrified. Which, is actually a little messed up.

Fleeing the nest is actually a daunting task... it's time to either soar, or dramatically sink to the ground. And I think it's the fear of not knowing what it is I'm fearing that's causing me to fear fleeing. (You think that's a tounge twister... try unscrambling my thought process at the moment!). It is the fear of the unknown, plainly and simply, that's causing me to feel so confused.

So mix this fear of the unknown, the anticipation of finding out and getting there, with the next week of saying my goodbyes and farewells all together, and you receive a brain in a blender with a lid on it, ready to be packed into the boot of your car and unscrambled on arrival at destination Uni.

The time doesn't tick by so quickly when I sit here, like right now, thinking about how long is left of life as I know it. The seconds stretch and the minutes widen. But this last week, when I'm catching my last precious moments with my friends and family, it will soar into the distance blurring past me in the blink of an eye and a whirl of excitable terrified chatter, and before I know what's happened, I'll be alone for the first time, a butterfly escaping the cocoon, breathing the world in for the first time... completely alone, but starting the next chapter.

Back soon for more tickings of my oh so teenage mind <3

Rules for Girls Holidays

So, I've been to Greece! I've swallowed up that sunshine, drunk those cocktails, achieved THAT tan, spent a week with my friends, and most importantly... I survived!
Just.
I've been home a week and have only just recovered to the point where I can actually focus my brain for more than ten minutes on any one thing without either dribbling or falling asleep! Success!! So, as this holiday was so unbelievably entertaining and fantastic, I'm going to device some rules for girlie holidays, on the spot, as I look back over my week away! Here goes...

Rule Number 1 - Pack more clothes than you think you'll need, it would be nice to have more choice

Rule Number 2 - Make sure the clothes that you pack are in fact super super HOT and make legs look v sexy and are colours to match tanned-ness, and won't make you sweat like a running tap for those hot nights out

Rule Number 3 - Find out the correct weight limit for your luggage... as I sorely found out, our weight allowance was 20kg, which I thought was 15 when I packed. Nobody told me, nobody informed, so what did I do? Of course my case was overweight, so instead of doing the sensible thing and repacking, I simply emptied some of the heavier contents of my suitcase (towels, shoes, bikinis) into my hand luggage, making it impossibly heavy in the process. Feeling awfully smug with myself I arrived to check in to find my case weighed in at 14.9kg, an achievement in my eyes! However, this soon became a problem... the wicker handles of my hand luggage were digging into my shoulders so badly from the added weight that I looked as though I had some kind of strange skin irritation, or even disorder, where my skin bobbled and was red and blotchy, only on that one shoulder. Such a good look when sat in airport for lunch. Bag on floor. Nice.

Rule Number 4 - Choose bag without wicker handles.

Rule Number 5 - Remind yourself before you go away that rep's lie. And are nobs. Saves yourself the anger later on of listening to 'I can get you free drinks, free entry to all of Zante's best clubs, just pay me 1000 euros and you'll meet the Queen' for the whooollleee half hour coach trip to hotel. Oh, and on that note, prepare yourself for shitty hotels too... it's only a base remember, 3 hours a night, just for sleeping. 3 hours a night. That's all.

Rule Number 6 - Pack antibacterial wipes. And lots of shampoo. For a, wiping down bathroom before use and b, handwash is not provided in Greece apparently.

Rule Number 7 - Don't bother with breakfast, it makes the hangover worse in the heat. Try poolside ice lollies instead, preferably strawberry flavoured.

Rule Number 8 - Club your socks off. Party as long as possible. Get home when daylight appears. First night out: home at 7.30am, second, same story and so on and so on...

Rule Number 9 - If your not so hardcore and cannot survive on less than 4 hours sleep a night/afternoon by the pool, then pack yourself some pro-plus energy boosting pills, works wonders when teamed with a few sex on the beaches ;)

Rule Number 10 - Find out where the best beach is... just don't go between 11 and 3, we recieved blistered feet from the hot sand

Rule Number 11 - Don't bother packing clothes for during the day, its too hot, a simple dress and pair of shorts will do! Naked = goooooodd in the heat

Rule Number 12 - Make friends with the hotel owners, if there is an emergency you need them on your side. My best friend suffered a fit and panic attack when we were there, and their help was precious... can you speak Greek?? Didn't think so, they can though! Whilst on that thought, remind yourself how lovely British hospitals are, the one's abroad... not so nice. If you hate the sight of blood just shut those eyes. Or actually, just don't get into a mis-chief... if you can help it ;)

Rule Number 13 - Drink!! Cocktails, lots of them, with your girlfriends! How much more fun could you wish for!? It's a rarity that you can all drink together at home and feel so carefree... there's usually a designated driver... so enjoy while you can! Cosmopolitans, Raspberry Miss Charlotte's, Flirtini, Long Island Ice Tea, Slow Screws, we love them all!

Rule Number 14 - Don't be afraid to try something new, whether its local food, or something else (skinny dipping ;) ) ha! It could be much better than you think!

Rule Number 15 - Do dress up like idiots one night... why not!? You don't know anyone, so shed those inabhitions and go for it. Our outfit of choice: Pirates! Feel free to shout bad jokes about it too.

Rule Number 16 - Capture those memories and remember to charge the digi cam. Practise your posing for ultimate facebook profile pics!

Have the time of your life, your only young once, enjoy it!!
Couldn't have asked for a better experience, they say that girls holidays test your friendships, well, mine's only proven to me that my friends are the best! Looking back, I wouldn't change a thing.

Looking forward to next year's adventures...

Back soon for more tickings of my oh so teenage mind <3

Get Set To Jet Set

In most situations, people often say that getting ready is half the fun. When your getting ready for a wedding, or a big night out, or maybe just to go on a date or for dinner with your friends, there's always the 'ohh-I'm-off-out' excitable jitters! Team that with the fact that I'm 18, and oh, just about everything is new and exciting to me! Now imagine how manic and insane I must be, when getting ready for my first solo holiday... to Greece, with 6 of my friends! Exactly... point proven now!

I thought that getting ready, you know, packed for a holiday, was all that needed to be done. Alas, how wrong I was! There's the insurance, sorting out your phone so it works abroad, not helped by crapping call centre people with funny accents, getting money and actually bothering to change it into a different currency, in my case euro's, sorting out which shoes match which clothes, with which bag, and accessories... ugh how annoying, oh and then there's the massive task of actually packing it all into the super teeny case I'm taking because my luggage allowence is only 15kg... heaven help me, looks like I'll need some extra pennies for the obvious added charge of the case, then there's figuring out what time I need to wake up in the morning to get prepared, then there's deciding what to wear to the airport, with which shoes and accessories, which bag is big enough for all the magazines, and errmm, books (shocker I know)... soooooo much to do so little time!
Now breathe!!

That's my thought process at the moment. Oh and I didn't mention the washing I have left to do. And that I'm going out clubbing tonight instead of preparing myself, oops! Really not feeling too bad about that!

Actually, I still haven't bought everything... still in dire need of face wipes, face powder for those hot and sticky nights out in Zanntteee!! ooh and maybe some magazines, and some sweets? Perhaps, a new album for the ipod... although I've already downloaded 3 ?? Perhaps I'll skip that one, still haven't listened to the new Kylie one yet!

So yeah, getting ready for a holiday is acually not half the fun, but it certainly is alot of the effort!

Packing my bags, and heading of to Greece (ZANNTTEEEE... LET'S PARTY! WOOOO)

Back Soon For More Tickings Of My Oh So Teenage Mind <3

New Discovery... Of The Most Odd Kind

I've recently discovered that in my odd mental state, the one where I think I'm fat and have loads of skanky scabbo spots on my face, I have found 1 thing that equals 1 VERY bad idea...
2 words

MAGNIFYING
MIRROR

Great. Literally just fabulous.
As if I needed something to validate to me the state of my face. I cleverly decided that my eyebrows were in need of some serious loving and that borrowing my Mumma's magnifying mirror to make sure I extract every single hair so that I have beautifully flawless and fantasticimo eyebrows, was a good idea. It turned out to be one the worst things I could have ever done!

Not only did it blow my face up to the size of some enormous balloon that would enivitably pop in the face of a young child and make them scream, it made me focus on one part of my face, and one part only, at any one time.
Strike one!
Eyebrows plucked more than ever intended to. Look like actual frickin' chicken
Strike two!
Face is burning with redness after plucking unnecesarily at 'stray hairs' that I thought I'd found (thought I was growing old before my time on this one... slight tash at the age of 18, no thanks, I'd rather have hairy toes... another story friends)
Strike three!
Totally mishapen wonky eyebrows. 3 year old would have done much much better job. Looking like I've got 2 catapillers that have been starved to death crawling across to the sides of my face to nibble on my ears... yum?

Why did anyone ever think that a mirror that magnifys your face would be a good idea!!? WHY!?

Not only did the before mentioned afflict itself apon me, I also managed to fixate myself on my nose, convince myself that those tiny black pin-prick sized dots are huge alien spots, and continue to squeeze and torture my face for the next hour, until I'd somehow had my fill. Note::: entire face was red by this point, skin peeling from nose (OUCH) and little droplets of blood were making a break for it, trickling down my nose trying to join their little friends that already managed to leak out onto the very nice fluffy white towels in my mothers bathroom.

Then I took a step back, to admire my work if you will, thinking that up close I didn't look that bad, so surely when I turned the mirror around to see myself in normal circumstances I would be full of the fabulous gene, new and improved from all my facial 'reconstruction' ready to make people hate me for flawlessness.

Well if someone had dragged me backwards through a hedge / rose bush, rubbed kathcup in my eyes till they watered like a bitch, hit me around the nose serveral times with a possibly large hammer, dropped a brick on me, stabbed at me with kiddies forks, played dot to dot on my face with a pink permenant marker, rubbed kitchen oil and grease around my eyes and face, used a rolling pin as their new favourite 'lets beat up Char' device and then thrown me down the stairs... it would have looked impecible in comparison to how I looked right there and then.

Well we all learn from our mistakes (apparently... for many, including me, this is deff not the case... I have many examples up my sleeve but I will only share this one... Ben and Jerrys makes me ill, like stomach cramping ill, and I eat it pretty much every weekend... I shall never learn, nor want to learn this very hard lesson!)

So that's why my Mum never let me use that mirror before...
Should come with a warning, 'only for proper grown ups' (who can manage their own eyebrows)

Back soon for more tickings of my oh so teen mind <3

Hi There Floor, Fancy Swallowing Me Up Please?

So, yes I've neglected the blog. I never thought it would happen, and yes, I feel ashamed of myself! haha!
I've not even been busy really, oh just working full time for the first time in my life and it makes me want to take a large pistol and shoot myself purely so I have an excuse for not turning up! Honestly, who ever knew work was so exhausting!? Students, like me, have it easy! College is taxing on the brain, that I can admit, but there's no routine, there's no set structure apart from your timetable! Work is the same shit, on a different day! Kill me now! The only upside is when you recieve that pay packet on Friday morning... joy! And oh, I get paid every Friday, and yes by Monday I'm living like a pauper once again, not a penny to spare after a weekend full of fun and frolics! yipee!

Work, for me, recently, has become a learning curve... I now understand that when the 'full-timers' warned me against joining the ranks, they were deadly serious and spoke with reason. Oops. Should have listened, but like always it's only me, myself and I who prefers to learn my way... or the highway! hehe
The reason for learning curve... I have discovered that when i'm stressed I tend to 'boob' ... make petty and silly mistakes that screw me over time and time again for the rest of my shift! One of which, was telling a customer that I'd made a boob... then realising that they had no idea what this meant, not all 'humans' understand teen speak! Well didn't I feel awfully special, no wonder they left me zero pounds zero pence as a tip! Another was managing to switch on a blender, without securing the lid, thus resulting in a new way of applying the daily warpaint... red berry so suits you dahhling!!

Oh and my best one yet, sit down this will crack you up, is falling FLAT on my face and seriously hurting myself, then bursting into floods of tears in the middle of the workplace (may have been slightly knocked out but I have little memory). Luckily no customers saw, only staff, the majority of whom I am great friends with, which in fact made this more embarrassing as I have to face them every day! Booo!! So, this is my tale of woe...
I'm stressed to the max, there's people asking me questions left, right and centre, I feel a bit sick and sweaty (I'm stood next to the oven on a kitchen shift), my feet hurt, the floor is a bit slippy... there are 5 people waiting for food from the oven that I am about to produce, in my rush I walk back and forth from oven to table and oh good lord, I've slipped on NOTHING and fallen right over! On my way down I managed to bang my head on not only the floor, but also the work top, burnt my arm on a hot pan... IT HURT, and yes there is a mark... even now!, banged my knees and then burst into tears and forgot to move!
In front of my friends.
At work.
When it was busy.
And it really really hurt.

Right there, right then in that moment I learnt, the turtle will always beat the hare.
And I felt dumb! (And sick some more)

In typical teen style, I wanted to exaggerate my injuries to justify the fact that I cried at work and was sent home... do I have anything to show for this fantastic display of stupidity... nicht! (That means no in German ... I am a genius feel free to applaude) Nothing to show apart from a few purple slotches and a burn... and the fact that I'm a stupid blonde!! Fabulous!!

Want... To... Laugh .... At ... Myself.

Nope

Not happening, sorry! I have far too much pride!

Will pretend it never happened and hold my head high when next at work... until of course, I learn that this is how to trip on a banana skin!

Mental note to self:
Sloooowww dooownnnnn. NOW.
Wear non slip shoes to work.
Try not to fall on face without alcohol as excuse.
Show off injuries at any available opportunity... saves the embarrassment and justifys crying and panda eyes recieved from crying!

Next time, I'm making sure there's double sided duck tape on the bottom of my shoes, and that I'm wearing waterproof mascara!

Back soon for more tickings of my oh so teenage mind <3

2 Days Of Revelations

I have literally had so much fun these last 2 days! I've been to Spitalfields Market in East London which absolutely blew my mind, and also on a grand walking tour... conducted by my father oh yes! And then yesterday I ventured out to the beach with my lovely boyfriend (yes we are back together... silent wooo hooo and joy dancing!)

So lets start with my London trip...
As I said before, I ventured out to East London for what I can only describe as a very new shopping experience, a new way to appreciate clothes! It is esentially a bigger Portobello Road, but with less antiques and more sexy clothes than your nan could shake a stick at (would that be wrong?). I loved how each stall had it's own little story, how each item was made for a purpose, as part of an up-coming designers collection... not yet seen by the media eyes. Of course... I HAD to try on absolutely everything I liked the look of, and trust me, in those tiny stalls, whilst wearing a short bodycon dress, this quickly became quite an issue... FLASHER! woops! I didn't however, dissapoint every single person working there, by trying things on for the sake of it then not buying anything (I'm sooo good at doing this and I think most women probably would agree, it's nice to try on things you know are out of reach... money issues hey, yawn!) I did in fact, buy a very nice cream, boho style blouse thing... I LOVE IT! The compliments you recieve for unique clothing are awesome... I will definately be making this an annual (monthly?... weekly?) visit.

My grand walking tour of London was also a new experience for me. I've been to London many a time before, but only to the main tourist areas... this time we went wondering around Covent Garden, China Town (sooo difficult to figure out where we were then, loads of little tiny people shouting in Chinese in our direction, it felt weird to be in the ethnic minority in prodominately white country), Leister Square, Trafalgar Square, Liverpool Street, Canary Wharf, and of course that massive road with Big Ben on it (I can't remember what it was called! oops). It amazed me how for my entire life I have lived a mere 2 hours away from this incredible place, yet for the last 18 years I haven't actually bothered to check it out properly, you know, go on a little adventure and experience the non-tourist areas of the big city. It annoyed me actually because I've never loved a city more, apart from NY which is just unreal... and I couldn't believe that this iconic place has been sitting a mere 2 HOURS from my home, when people travel for hours on end to see what I could potentially see all the time!! Yes, that seriously annoyed me.

Something however, that I was not so enthused about, was the actual stench of some people using public transport. The tube wasn't that bad,apart from the odd whiff of something a bit stinky (usually unwashed man, or someone had clearly farted before departing the train at their station, leaving us all left an aroma of eggy fishcakes. Nice.) It was actually on the train home from Waterloo where I encountered THE WORLD'S SMELLIEST MAN.

No joke. I felt sick, a bit lightheaded, with an urge to throw my shoe at his head and scream "SHAVE, WASH, CLEAN YOUR CLOTHES".

Typical bearded man, with dirty clothes, smelly breath and pits which he breathed all over me as I desperately attempted not to either cry or laugh in a bid to disguise my utter disgust. Oh, and did I mention, he was sat behind me, and the smell wafted forwards? Oh, I forgot to point out, his beard rubbed on my cheek as I leant back in my chair and he leant forward to tie his shoe. Awkward moment, made me wanna hurl. Ugh!

Think I'm a snob, think what you like, he was smelly, and I was grossed out. Sorry to any tramps out there, but please do NOT sit behind me on the train... or I may lash out. (I won't, but this is supposed to be comical)
pleaaassseeee!!

Oh and shower.

So next up... my trip to the beach. I am a typical teenage girl... I WANT A TAN TO RUIN ALL OTHER TANS. I wanna annoy my friends. I wanna annoy my family. I want to be the most tanned thing ever! So, thinking I know best like I always do (usually I am right so beware), I sat on the beach, or rather sprawled on the beach like something that had been washed to shore, bikini clad and ready for tanning. It was a nice sunny day, with a touch of cloud and a slight gust of wind every so often. This to me, is not prime time for tanning so I cleverly decided against sun block.
Stupid. Idea.
1 word.
LOBSTER.
I am officially a lobster.
I'm pinky red all over (apart from the obvious areas hidden by the bikini... just). So I've smothering my crispy skin with after sun and wishing I actually listened to my mother.
It's my way or the high way! And I learnt my way... woops!


Back soon for more tickings of my oh so teenage mind <3

Peacocking

This is just a quick little moan, winge, rant, outburst of confusion about the male species really. Here goes...

WHY oh WHYYY do men, mainly semi-attractive young'uns (this means they are not old enough to be your father and are therefore still on radar), feel the absolute compulsive need to sit down with their legs spread wide open!?

Why?

I really don't understand, and above all it irritates me!

If a women was to sit with her legs wide open it would say, "come to me, I'm an easy shlag and would sooooo let you do exactly what your thinking right about now"... whereas when a man does this, it essentially means the same thing, yet in society this is considered a 'manly' thing to do.
Why... do you have to prove you have balls!? We guessed that from the unsightly bulge in your trousers (in some cases this can be harder to spot)
Do you need to prove that us women cannot get away with such an act as publically airing our 'area', like you can?
Or are you simply genetically designed to sit like your ancestors, the cave men, who so frequently hit themselves in the balls with their giant clubs used for killing animals that their balls inflamed and therefore they had to sit that way, by brute force!!

It really bothers me, and is just one of those questions I don't think I will ever know the answer to (unless of course I have a full body transplant and join the male race... as if!)

Back soon for more ticking of my oh so teenage mind <3

Tanned happy whales

I'm pretty sure that every female up and down the country, actually screw that, up and across the world, has the same mental issue, come the summer season... WEIGHT/FEELING LIKE A WHALE/ FLAABBBBB!! Oh the dreaded cellulite (that doesn't even exist in most cases), the stretch marks, the hairy legs and unpainted toenails! The uber flubber in unsightly places, rolling over your jeans, thus exposed by your crop top, as it's too flipping HOT to wear anything sensible!

Of course we all have this issue. Who wouldn't? Kate Moss maybe, but she's the exception and invented skinny so she can p**s off really!

Summer, I've decided, is another excuse for men to gawp at the females species, and of course their 'assets', therefore making us feel more dorky and uncomfortable than usual, and wish that we'd wacked out the razor before wearing that skirt... had we have realised you'd stare so closely then we would have tried a little harder to not look like a man in drag.
I've also decided that summer is THE reason ALL (normal and not size 0) women decided that now is the perfect time to trim down.
After all, who wants to be lying on the beach, feeling the main attraction... A.K.A the washed up whale and all of man kind, greenpeace included, are concerned for your health.

So, we diet. We exercise. We cut down our portions. We try all treatments under the sun that are apparently destined to shed those pounds, but actually add weight in the amount of crap that is smeared on your body.
Do they work... no! Yes we know they don't, but there is always a glimmer of hope that they might.
The diets never EVER work... trust me, I've been trying for the last 72 hours with no success. I swear I have no self control, I'm eating salad for lunch and dinner (and breakfast? too far) and crappy crunchy nut for breakkie, hoping that this alone will help me shed some weight, or at least tone the flubber ready for the Greek sunshine in 4 weeks, and 5 days time (I'm not counting down or anything!)Actually it's not, all it's doing is making put on less, more weight... get it?

In fact, mid-blog I have left my house to go to my place of work (a restaurant) for 2 reasons...
1. To see one of my best friends and try and cheer her up because her boyfriend is a complete LOSER and being a tosser to her (dramatic times... yet this is another story)
2. To eat fatty food together to aid the cheering up... FOOD IS LOVE! We love it! Let's not neglect our womanly 'needs' now ladies.

So that exercise that I did 2 days ago... running for 3 miles / trying to run and ending up walking then jogging, then running, whilst looking like a hayfever victim on coke, with sweaty puffy eyes and smelling of ball bags in front of many people in broad daylight, which resulted in me having THE MOST PAINFUL thigh muscles known to man-kind (everytime I walk, stand up, sit down, bend, brake when driving... I WANT TO SCREAM!!!), wasn't even worth it... I just ate 1000 calories in one oh-so-scrumptious sitting, so what is the actual point!?

Why is that us female species commit ourselves to something we know is nigh on impossible to stick to in the first place?

Well, we wanna look like we've tried...
Hello summer sun.

Back soon for more tickings of my oh so teenage mind <3

"True happiness consists not in the multitude of friends, but in their worth and choice."

So, I know how ridiculously cheesey it can be to write a blog post about friendship or about love, but today has shown me that there are some things you just can't force or buy with some dolla'. You can't force people into being your friend, unless of course, your some kind of strange dictator who knows your a loner and forces people to be 'friends' with you so you won't kill them...
Anyway, you can't push people into liking you, and you can't create a friendship or connection just for the sake of it, it has to be genuine.
I sound like such a cheese ball but trust me on this, it's true.

I've worked in my current job, part time thank Jesus our Lord, for about 2 years now, alongside some amazing people! I've never met as many good friends from one place! Sometimes however, it can be hard to tell if these poeple are actually friends or if they are your 'friends'.

Definition of 'friends'... Basically nosy little fuc***s that you work with, who pretend to be interested in your personal day-to-day life, because they are lame, boring and have no real friends outside of the work place. They ask personal questions about your life, pretend they care, try to share their opinion with you and give you advice you never even asked for. They share this 'opinion' about your personal life with other 'friends' and together they form a group of 'friends'... a web of gossip if you will, that intrude and poke questions at you, when all you want to do is make your money and go again... with some free food of course ;) These people are not your genuine friends, when you move away or inevitably change jobs, they will be but a distant memory and will only keep in contact through cyber space, and again will comment on your holiday pictures saying things like, "babe... looking hot, we should meet up soon", and then of course you never do!

But anyway, this leads me to my focal point for the day... how do you tell apart the 'friends' from the friends?

Well recently, and I do mean over the last sort of 8 months, I've become very good friends with a girl I work with, who is around the same age as me. I usually find it really hard to get on with girls and so it came as a surprise to me when we started to get on really well at work, have long conversations and end up getting told off for talking too much - what can I say, female species for ya! We now meet up regulary, have really deep conversation and I know I could trust her with my life! I don't think I could value a friendship any more, and I feel very lucky to be able to trust this person, and be completely myself, without fear of judgement or having an 'opinion' thrust upon me.

I love the spontaneity of a true friendship! Your just lazing around with no real plans, watching music videos, sat nosing at people's pictures on facebook, talking, eating ice cream (chocolate flavour oooh yes!!) and literally enjoying the company of someone that is simply enjoying yours.

And that is how it dawned on me, you really cannot force a friendship. A relationship maybe, I can imagine that's easier to fake, but having a genuine friendship with someone is something that takes longer to create, but when you do find it, it's oh so beautiful!

Happy happy :)

Back soon for more ticking of my oh so teenage mind <3

Consume My Feet

I WANT NEW SHOES!

I'm not even kidding you, I've been walking around my house like some battered, bruised and completely bashed up 85 year old women, who has never slipped her feet into some perfectly crafted beaut's called shoes!

I will admit, I like? correction, love to go out clubbing.
I will also admit, I do like to wear ridiculous 5 inch high heels... every time I go out, which at the moment ranges from once to twice a week!
Another confession... I sort of fancy myself when I wear them.

Fake tan + Black, patent, 5 inch heels + me being the slightly arrogant girl that I am = a good combo. I think. Lets not mention the student style cocktails that are added later on, which usually result in me falling flat on my face, or in fact ASS, in a pile on the floor, with my friends, laughing until I think I'm gunna pee! (Think?? Sometimes it happens!! sshh. It's only a little bit. I swear)
FYI student style is when you and your already pissed friends decide that half vodka, half cherryade, is the way forward... thus the pre-drinks, turn into the ONLY drinks your body is able to consume, and most bouncers think your barking mad!

I'm serious though, my nights out are in fact, hilarious! I love my friends, love meeting new ones and love love love dancing until my feet bleed!!

This, however, is the issue I am having. My feet always bleed after a night out! It ruins my fun and I simply can't take it. This is why, I want some new shoes! I can't be doing with my legs buckling under my weight, remember lots of food and alcohol on stilts when drunk means your technically heavier (I think... sort of made that up but it seems true), consequently flashing at random passers by, feeling like a total wang, having leg definition... and I mean properly muscly looking legs... I do not like this!!, and then the blisters and bruises that result from it!

Men don't have this problem!! I'd dance past 5 if it wasn't for these shoes! They are actually amazing, but they hurt so bad. This is why I need new ones.

Reasons for buying new, sexier, higher shoes than ever:
1. I like to think they won't hurt as much as the previous pair
2. They are sexy. Very.
3. They are the new 'it' trend, captured in a pair of shoes
4. I love them
5. They only cost about a million pounds

I don't actually need new shoes, this was just my vain attempt to convince myself I do so that I can head off to River Island and blow another £60 on some foot munchers! It didnt really work.

Dear Feet,
I'm v.v. sorry for the pain and pressure I force you to endure. However, this is only the beginning, so learn to deal with it.
K. Thanks, Bye!

Back soon for more tickings of my oh so teenage mind <3

When the mind wanders...

I can't help but feel a massive rush of love every time I go to visit my 1 year old twin cousins, and their 4 year old sister!
They are actually so adorable!
It amazes me how small and fragile their bodies are, how innocent and pure their minds are, how sweet and cheeky they look when they smile and reach to hold your hand! They hold on to your finger with their little hands, and that's all the support they need, with that they feel comforted.
I wish the lives of adults were as simple, just holding someone's hand to feel okay!

I'm not saying I'm not okay, this is just an observation from today! haha!

I'm not broody either, heck I'm 18... waaaaaay too young for that shinanigins!!

It does intrigue me though, you know, how innocent their minds must be, not yet corrupted by the social and media storms that swirl around each of us within our daily lives.
Children have no set rules on how they go about their daily business... wanna play with my little pony, go right ahead, oh wait! I'm tired... time for my nap, and off to sleep they go!
They don't yet have cultural or social norms or values, anything goes. They don't yet have any perception of the media... they don't even know what it is (this is the twins, to be fair, the 4 year old knows everything about computers and the way sky works)

Imagine if we all just clicked re-start and all these spheres re-booted and morphed and changed into something completely new. Would it be the same as it is now? Is it inevitable that we are all interconnected by a single frame of mind?
I like to think this isn't the case.
I think the system would be the same, we'd all believe one main set of views, but maybe they would be altered! Or maybe this is all the will of a higher being than us, and everything is this way for a particular reason... maybe.

Maybe annoys me.... I want answers!!!!

I was also thinking today, whilst at work (I was seriously bored and on the verge of throwing something at someones head for pure entertainment value... think I'd get in trouble though), imagine how bad it would be if everyone spoke aloud what they were thinking in their mind.
I thought some pretty bad stuff today, and almost related this to the person it was aimed at, and then thought, oh s***!! shut up! haha!!
The secrets and innermost personal thoughts and feelings would all be on display, like literally wearing your heart (or mind rather) on your sleeve. Would this make social relationships any easier? Or would things be more scandalous and complicated than usual?

Who knows...

Back soon for more tickings of my oh so teenage mind <3

Not My Turn To Roll A 6... Today.

Today has been sooo 'interesting'.
I've literally wasted this whole 24 hours of my life. I haven't left my house since about half past twelve, and that was only for 15 minutes to pop down to the shop for a pot noodle, feel like a complete and utter socially retarded loser with no friends and no boyfriend!
I know, I know, I broke up with him therefore I shouldn't be feeling so down about things, but I really am... I'm sort of craving that closeness again (or maybe just a little male attention, which through my own fault, I am not receiving!).

Today was supposed to be my first date as a single lady... you guessed it, I didn't go! Woops a daisy!
Okay, I didn't exactly stand him up, but I do feel awful! I agreed to go out with said guy up until last night, when I cleverly decided that a touch of facebook stalking wouldn't do any harm, you know, check out what I'm letting myself in for, check his interests, see if we have any the same, check out the situation with the laaadiiiees, is he a total player and going to string me along ("why hasn't he called!?") or is he actually a nice guy who is geniunally interested in me?
I think he was the latter, but unfortunatly THANK GOD FOR FACEBOOK STALKING!!
Yuck.
That's all I can say!
It's funny how good looking somebody becomes when you've had a few too many cocktails, Cosmopolitan's and Raspberry Miss Charlotte's of course, with your girlfriends! I remember meeting him and thinking, WOW... I actually love his hair. I remember this blonde wavy beaut' of a hair do, thought he was a bit surfer, a bit sexy and styled... checked him out on facebook,
TOTAL MOP
I remember thinking he smelled really nice... checked on facebook...
it was most likely the smell of dirty student boy who hasn't washed for three days... in his pictures he looks like he has had a freakin' shower!
So unnattractive
Call me shallow if you will, but that was reason enough for me not to go!

Safely and wisely, I had suggested a lunch date, this is prior to my facebook stalking, you know, to keep myself in the 'friend zone' ... for now until I could figure him out and see what he would find most attractive, so I could dress myself up all nice for the next date, which would obviously be a dinner date to some swanky sexy restaurant so I could wear my highest, sky-scraping stilletos that could walk all over the hearts of men everywhere... they are v. v. sexy and high (5 inches)they make me look so tall with loooooooong legs, like I should be in a Venus advert! ha!
Anyway, so yeah I suggested the lunch date, he said he would pick me up at 12, I agreed, blah blah blah, you know the score.
So, when I wake up this morning, I have a revelation... Why am I going out with this guy, who I'm sorry but is so not as attractive as I remembered, when I clearly do not want to go out with him? Why lead him along the garden path only to throw him in the pond once we reach the end?
What's the point? Yes, the free food would have been lovely, but the effort of making conversation, getting my boobs checked out every 5 minutes and pretending not to notice, then seeing some man who I would much rather jump at the chance to go out with whilst I'm sat with this loser, all seems a little too much for my frazzled girl mind to bear.
It's like I said before, sexual politics! I would have to adhere to rules and regulations of the dating Game, whilst trying to have a personality, not get on too well with him all to blow him off (not literally you scoundrel) by 3pm.
P, is for Pointless.

No thanks, I'd rather spend today doing nothing and feeling sorry for myself! :) woo hoo!

So, today I woke up at 7am, to text this guy and break the bad old news to him, so it looked like I'd actually slept on my decision, rather than facebook stalked him the night before and completely pinged (this means to see one thing about someone that is such a turn off you can't help but avoid them like the plague).
Did he reply... NOPE! Bruised ego much!?

This leads me to my point... I would have been soooo annoyed if that was me on the recieving end of that text, so why have I made one rule for myself and one for another!? It doesn't seem fair!
But that's when I realised, when your rejected, it's not actually anything too personal (most of the time.. in this case it was), it's just the ways of the Game. Play the Game, and you don't find yourself with a tub of Ben and Jerry's every weekend (it had better be Phish Food if you do though). Play the Game, and you will find yourself floating through the dating maze rather than trudging through the thick muddy crap that is the blokes you dated for the sake of it, for the 'practise'.
C'mon... we can afford to be picky! If we're/I'm gunna settle down, they had better be a good'un. Agreed? Good.

So yeah, I feel bad about saying no to him, and I feel crap about being single... today. But that's for the lack of male attention, not because it's crap to be single.
Tomorrow, I might not feel so bad. (I hope)

It makes me laugh how in the last month I've learnt so much about how this stupid Game works, you hope to roll a 6, and ending up rolling a 2... it's purely chance... so when your not expecting for your golden number to turn upwards, that's when it will appear!

Time to stop looking for it I think.

Back soon for more Tickings of my oh so teenage mind <3

Give Me 2 Hours, I'll Change Your Mind...

Isn't it funny how so much can change in such a short space of time!?

I've had 'one-of-those-days', as my Nan would call it! I woke up ridiculously early, 6.45am to be precise, to the noise of that STUPID blackberry alarm that just dinnngggsss in my ear constantly until I can drag myself off the pillow and lollop across to my desk to switch it off! (I do this purposely you see, so that I'll actually get out of bed in the mornings)
Then, I realised that somehow during the course of my 6 hour (I couldn't drift off for nerves) sleep I'd managed to strip to just my underwear... strange much? Oh, and that I had a banging headache and had slept funny on my right arm. That left me nice and prepared for my exam at 9.00am didn't it!? Haha!
So, I trapse downstairs to find my Mum making salad sarnies for everyone, wholemeal bread of course. She tells me to take a paracetemol to sort out my headache... And someway, somehow I managed to gag on the tiniest tablet I've ever seen and spat it back up again!! BEAUTIFUL!

So yeah, I get to college nice and early after sitting in traffic for half an hour (it's ten minutes down the motorway to my college), I'm stood outside the exam room reading through some notes just to be sure, and who walks past me? A girl that I was friends with for 5 years at school. She just walked by, without saying one word or acknowledging my precense... I look up and notice another girl from school that I was friendly with, catch her eye and smile... NOTHING!
This is when it hit me... alot can change in a small space of time. It's been 2 years since I left school, and in that time I've done my A Levels, and lost touch with 2 people that were important to me.
In the 2 hours that were to follow I would change the rest of my future, that exam was THE single most important exam for me this year! If I achieve an A grade, I go to the university of my dreams... to do the course I've always wanted to do... Multimedia Journalism.
And if I fail?

Then dreams are shattered.

I don't know if you've ever experienced anything like that feeling, but the nerves that boil up inside you when you know the next 2 hours are about to determine your future are uncontrollable and unbelievable! It feels like your stomach is churning (like your hanging from the night before basically, but with a few snakes and butterflies thrown in for good measure) like you need the toilet so badly, you feel sick, sweaty, lightheaded, your throat gets this huge lump in it! It's so gross.

I've never had that feeling until today.

It's a good thing my exam went well really!! haha!!

I'm pretty sure that when your nervous, adreneline kicks in. You can write an A4 side in minutes, plan things to perfection, analyse every detail. It's like everything you've been taught comes rushing back to you in a matter of minutes, filling your head with what you wish you'd remembered in the mock exam, which, if your anything like me, you dramatically failed... try 45 out of 80 for size! And that's what made you nervous in the first place!

So yeah, my mood changed almost as quickly as the exam flew by.. then I heard this song on the radio and it's like this morning never happened

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wavpWRK6IX8 (click on the link to hear it! ... its very loud FYI so turn down those boom boxes)

Wonder where I'll be in another 2 hours time?

Back soon for more tickings of my oh so teenage mind <3

Where do I start!?

I'm lost in cyber space and don't exactly know what I want to say or how I'm planning on saying it. There's too much to talk about and too much information for me to compress into my stupidly tiny brain. There's alot going on my life... some boring and some not so much, but where do I actually begin... 1992 when I was born and the madness began, or right from today!? Are there rules, regulations, obligations, unwritten rules that I should know about... or do I just let loose? I'm not sure if I'm feeling the lack of guidlines!

I'm new at blogging

... can you tell?

So instead of firing loads of random questions into no-where, I might actually just say something worthwhile now, something thats been playing on my mind alllll day!

...

What is with all these sexual politics!?

I thought it was supposed to be simple!

(I'm newly single FYI after breaking up with long-term boyfriend... and havent been a singleton since I was 16... So this is all VERY new)

Seriously I thought it was supposed to be as simple as ABC, dot-to-dot...

you go on your girls night out in short skirt and mountainous shoes,

you see nice looking boy,

you look at him a few too many times (your drunk probably),

you head to the bar,

you see boy follow,

you talk to nice boy,

you ask him/he asks you to dance... if we like we accept the offer, dance till feet bleed and then get phone number and text next day... if we don't like, we walk away or politely refuse!

So why oh why do I now have to wait at least 15 minutes before I reply to a text so I don't look so available all the time! My phone is actually next to me, I'm just choosing to ignore you so that you think I'm busy, when in reality I'm sat on facebook, stuffing my face with pizza in my trackies, because I'm hanging out my back end!

And what about the dancing... wait for him to make the first move, you don't want to be looking too interested! Well what if I am bloody interested? Men are definately not mindreaders so how will he know unless I make this clear, he's already asked me to dance so it's known he doesnt think I look like a whale in a jumpsuit.

The first dates are always the most interesting though... more politics. I have to dress nice, but not too nice, act aloof, but not too aloof, ask questions, but not too many! What ever happened to being yourself and if they don't like it... fudge 'em! There's plenty more fish in the sea ready for the dating game!

I do have a first date coming up this week actually... so I will be updating. And maybe another first date... if a certain someone stops playing so hard to get ... ha!

I've met two guys... one from a night out, the other a work friend (I didn't just meet him obviously, I just re-met him in a different way, (not like that you dirty so-and-so), on a night out... twice, and once at work!) I do like him, he is a good kisser too, but I don't want a relationship... so how do I play it? We text alot, make eyes across the room at work and flirt like we've been in prison for 40 years... but what will happen? And why do I care so much?

"All I wanna do, is have some fun...

I got a feeling, that I'm not the only one"

Double Mwah and Love, back soon for more ticking of my oh-so teenage mind <3