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.