Tuesday, 28 December 2010

Bloody Nora.

First of all I would like to say that I hope you all had a very lovely Christmas and that Santa brought you everything you wanted. I was hoping to post a blog before Christmas but lack of imagination and time (I am the most awful planner at Christmas) prevented me from doing that.

Right now I am taking a break from my coursework for Textiles and English, mainly because after sitting at a computer for 3 hours and then realising everything you have written sounds like your single handedly destroying the English language is a bit demoralising. Plus I am a little bit sick of Nora from ‘A Doll’s House’. Everyone else in my class thinks the play has a really good ending (if you haven’t read it, she basically leaves her whole life behind to start a new one, and will never, ever get in touch with anyone from her old life again) but it makes me really angry, mainly because I think that would be completely impossible.

So there I was staring a blank page with my hands poised over the keyboard and all I wanted to do was ring up Henrik Ibsen and tell him to write another ending. A bit hard really because of the fact that I don’t speak any Norwegian and that he is dead.

Staring at a blank page feels a little bit like staring at my life right now. It’s plain, it has no lines I have to abide by and I can do whatever I want with it. But something’s stopping me, and that something is me. Now the reason I stare blankly at the page when I want to write a blog is not necessarily because the lack of things I have to write about but because I have set myself a standard and a goal that I won’t let myself slip from. But with my life I don’t really have anything I have to live up to, I have achieved a lot of things in my short life, but there is nothing I really have compare too. It makes me really mad at myself that I find it possible to throw away everything I am aiming for, just because there are so many other things out there I could do. I think it’s because I'm a little scared. I constantly wish that I could go maybe 10 or 20 years into the future just so I could see how everything is going to work out, just so I could know that I'm heading in the right direction and so I maybe could change a few things.

I was talking to my dance teacher the other day and I was saying how I would like to go to the future and see how everything is going turn out and she said that it's that feeling of unknown that is the excitement of it all. She has only recently become the Principle of the Dance school, something she has wanted since she was even younger than me. She told me how she had no idea that her dreams would come true and if you would have told her only a year ago that this was how it was going to turn out she would have laughed. Okay, so that made me feel a little bit better.

However thanks to bloody Nora (no pun intended), I am now doubting my whole existence. Nora thinks that she is able to leave her past behind, and you get the feeling that she thinks it will never creep up on her. Something all us know is impossible. No matter how much you try to put things behind you, they always pop up again exactly at the wrong time and I'm sure if the play didn’t end there, a few years down the line Nora and Torvald would bump into each other in Starbucks when Nora had just been to the gym and had forgotten her make-up and Torvald was with his new prettier girlfriend.

Maybe not, but that’s what happened to me the other day.

What I'm trying to say is that the great thing about life is that it is a never ending pile of blank paper. You are going to come across people who will write in different colours, some just in black, some will write scruffy and some not much at all. Some people may draw themselves lines to stick to and some may have lines drawn for them they don’t want to abide by. But more than anything, everyone’s paper is going to be different. Near enough at any time we are able to take that written on, crumpled, tipex blotched and doodled on piece of paper and throw it in the bin and take another piece. It may not always be as easy as that, but it is always an option. However, I'm afraid; it is not possible to empty the bin. There are mistakes, stories and doodles on those pages you will never truly let go of and there will be a part of you that won’t want to throw them away. That’s why you have to make sure that on the new piece of paper the story is even better than before, the doodles funnier and most importantly, if a boy, a mistake or something crappy happens to tear that paper, make sure you have the best cello tape ever the stick it back together, your friends.

I am in no way condoning wasting or using huge amounts of paper. SAVE THE RAINFOREST :)
Live. Laugh. Love.

Friday, 10 December 2010


I hate my blackberry.

In response to my first sentence, I would like just say that usually I am all love for my Blackberry. It has helped me when I’m lost, found phone numbers when I have an intense need for Chinese food and has been a saviour when I am without a pen and paper and I have a rush of blog ideas. However I am afraid, I fell out of love with my blackberry when a month ago it lost all calendar events, pictures and worst of all, my phone numbers.
Yes. I did cry. Which I think is justified, as I was feeling very emotional at the time and I had forgot to reply to someone, who was nearly impossible to get the number for. Needless to say I was gutted.
Of course I received the standard replies when I told people my Blackberry had wiped my memory, mostly that I should have got an iPhone. Even the man at the orange shop said it! His face must have been a picture when I shouted ‘I have fat fingers’ at him and stormed out of the shop. (Fat fingers being the reason I don’t have an iPhone, I wasn’t just shouting about my unfortunately obese hands)
I got most of the numbers I needed off my friends, but there are still contacts I don’t have and are now impossible to get hold of, but everyone has a text style and unknown numbers I get texts from every so often, are usually pretty easy to work out.

From previous blogs you may know that I don’t have the best of luck when it comes phones and texting, and this bad luck continued when I received a one-word text at 2 a.m, from an unknown number. All it said was: ‘Cherubim’. Just one word, no kisses or anything fancy, just ‘Cherubim’. First of all I was very pissed off to be woken up to my phone buzzing on my forehead at 2 in the morning (I usually fall asleep whilst texting, and drop the phone on my face) and secondly what the hell is a ‘Cherubim’?

So I did what any smart person would do… I googled it. This is the gist of what I got:

1. A celestial being.
2. Theology. A member of the second order of angels often represented as a beautiful rosy-cheeked child with wings.
3. A beautiful or innocent person, esp. a child.
4. A person, esp. a child, with a sweet, chubby, innocent face.
5. Plural of Cherub

Okay, so basically I am being called the plural version of a Cherub, a beautiful child, or fat. Great.

I also thought about predictive text, a rubbish invention that I have suffered at the hands of for many years. But when I typed it into my friends phone, the only option I got was ‘Chest2ho’ so unless it’s a really bad new name for a brothel, I doubt it’s a predictive text error!

I have come to the conclusion that this text must of come from someone who knew what the word meant, but this makes me freak out even more. Now I’m not going to mention a name, but I have an ex-boyfriend - a very clever boy– who used to send things like this to me as a way of getting me to talk to him again. In my naivety, it always used to work. He always had a way of getting into my head, and messing me up again. He was one of those people who used to say something that you thought was a compliment, but after some thought you realized it was either utterly patronising or down right rude, ‘You look well’ being one of them. Also this ex-boyfriend always used to get really pissed off when I had deleted his number and I had to ask who the text was from. The more I thought about it the happier I got that my phone had deleted all my numbers. If by some slight chance that this text was from him, by my phone having an epileptic fit, it meant he didn’t get back inside my head, like so many times before.

I have tried on several occasions to try and find out who it was, I have text them asking them who they are, asked other people to type the number into there phone, but I have had no luck. It has played on my mind so much I have considered putting the number on here!

But you know what, what is life without mystery?

Of course if the person who sent me that text on the 10th November 2010 at 1.59am, I would love to know who you are, and you will be able to say you have had a blog written about you.

I am such a hypocrite.


I thought I would update you on how I am doing with my list. I am starting Tango next week, I am so excited, and thank you very much to the person who has helped me loads my informing me on lessons in my area.
I am pooing myself…. I am going to Karaoke tonight! I am really, really terrified, but something terrible will probably happen and I will inform you next week on how it went.

Ta Ta for now
Live. Laugh. Love.

Wednesday, 1 December 2010

I have started writing poems...

Publishing this is more scary than telling everyone about my blog. Please be nice, and sorry for it being so depressing...

Don't Call Me Your Baby

I'm a dreamer. It's understandable too,
When we live like this. Only a privaleged few
Get out this place. "See the light,
Face the people. Prove you're right.
To say what you say and do what you do"
Unless of course you're wrong. That wouldn't be anything new.
I've been challanged before, my beliefs ripped apart,
I pieced it back together, called it art.
Call your people, I'll shout mine.
Dig them up. Lose my mind
But I won't shed a tear. Thats not me
Down there, looking up. Wouldn't you agree?
Patience running out. I slam my fist to the wall,
Lean back, hit the floor. Wonder, if all
My problems are solved. Elastic band round my heart
Lose concept of time, oh, thats only the start.
Knock them back. Then pass out.
A better place, without a doubt.
Sweetheart I wouldn't worry, I'm not as clever as I look.
Learning how to be happy doesn't come from a book.
Lies to be remembered, promises to be forgot.
Good will come out of it, you'll be damned if not.
Hold my breath for a while, slump against the door.
Tell my body I was joking but it doesn't laugh anymore.
Beauty pulls out a cigerette and asks for a light,
Of course I oblige as anyone might.
Call me a sinner, it won't make you a saint.
Life is waiting, I don't want to be late.
Wrap a rope round my neck then kiss me goodnight
And for a moment...
I will take flight.

By Me

I will be back with a proper blog very soon. Thankyou for reading.

Friday, 26 November 2010

My Year In Lists.

Ive just seen the Coca- Cola Christmas advert, and like many other people, it means my Christmas has officially started!

As you can probably tell, I love christmas. I love everything about it:  pretty lights, the smell of the trees, seeing my family, people being in better moods, and of course the parties and lots of food! But in all this hype about christmas, it might sound stupid, but I forgot that its only 37 days until this year is over. Done.

When I realised, I started to get really scared and sad that a year in which I had planned so much for and expected so much of has kind of passed me by. Don't get me wrong, this year has produced many amazing memories, but not the ones I had expected. If you know me well, you probably know that my life is predominatly run by the lists I write, and before the 1st January I wrote a list of all the things I was going to do in 2010. Now you should know my lists are very importants to me, and in my warped reasoning, help me achieve things in my life.
So heres my list (the ones with stars next to them, are the ones I have done):
1.Forgive all the people who have ever done bad things to me, or upset me*
2.Have the night*
3.Find out what I want to do with my life*
4.Jump from the tree in Chatsworth, into the river
5.Sleep underneath the stars*
6.Go somewhere abroad*
7.Learn to play Guitar, so I can play the songs I have written lyrics for
8.Sing a song to an audience
9.Conquer a fear
10.Start a blog*
11.Go on a road trip with my friends
12.Be able to drive*
13.Puddle jump*
14.Go to a karaoke and sing
15.Sit on a roof top
16.Record a song
17.Be part of a flash mob
18.Do a ‘Slip And Slide’
19.Get lost somewhere*
20.Roll in mud
21.Draw money out of an ATM and shout ‘IVE WON!’*
22.Go to Toys’R’us
23.Go to a festival*
24.Milk a cow
25.Have my fortune told
26.Be naked on a nudist beach
27.Make a bet on the grand national
28.Send a message in a bottle
29.Open the door to a salesman and just scream until they go away
30.Sing loudly in the car with the windows open in a traffic jam*
31.Pull an all-nighter*
32.Go camping*
33.Write a diary*
34.Win something. Anything.*
35.Get something pierced
36.Write a postcard
37.Get a job*
38.Make a time capsule and bury it somewhere, and set a date to open it
39.Give a Valentines card to someone who will never find out who sent it
40.Feed the ducks
41.Run through the water fountain in derby
42.Leave a love note on a persons windscreen, who I don't know
43.Finish a crossword on my own*
44.Get something named after me
45.Get something on my body photocopied
46.Grow something*
47.Learn how to pull a pint
48.Go to a Salsa club and stay till after midnight
49.Take Tango lessons
50.Fly a kite
51.Make a dress*
52.Find my passion*
53.Have that crazy moment*
54.Learn to not take things as personally*
55.Meet a celebrity*
56.Give blood
57.Go on a walk to somewhere I've never been*
58.Go to an auction
59.Run 5 miles*
60. Fall truly, endlessly and hopelessly in love

You'd think that in a entire year I would be able to do 60 things wouldn't you? Wrong. I have only completed 25, thats less than half. Not only am I now a failure in the things other people want me to do, but a failure in what I want myself to do!
Ok, so the things I have done.

Forgiving all the people was a massive step for me, especially when it came to the girls that made my life hell for a year in secondary school, but the woman on the mobility scooter who ran over my foot and left me a limp for a week, was the hardest to forgive! Whilst learning not to take things as personally took a while longer. Can you imagine being in a wheelchair and hearing a lad go ''She's a bit of alright'' and his friend say ''Yeh, but mate she's in a wheelchair''? I have never wanted to be Andy from Little Britain so much in my whole life!
Please tell me you know what THE night is? Well, you know in films, where the man and woman stay up all night and learn absolutly everything about each other and it's really romantic? To your surprise I have had THE night, unfortunatly, now its not that much of a great memory as all the things he told me where fabricated lies and as we were at a party, many people ocassionly threw up around us. But at least I can tick it off my list!
I have found out what I want to do with my life, alongside finding my passion, and that is journalism and writing for all you lovely people, so therefore I have started my blog. Also the more and more I think about it, it's a bit like a diary (okay so thats a bit of cheating but...) Tick!
Sleeping underneath the stars was not as cool as it sounds, as it was when I went abroad (Tick), I was sunbathing, fell asleep and woke up in pitch black with stars above my head. But I will admit, although it was cold, it was a nice thing to wake up too.
Being able to drive has coincided with getting lost. Everytime I go out, I end up getting lost, I will admit it was scary the first few times. When you drive past the same old lady with a trolley five times, its not because she is moving quickly, its because you keep going : left, left, left and left again.
Number 21 is one of the funniest things I have ever done and its surprising how many people say ''Oh, really? How much?'' and sound excited for you (maybe they though I was crazy) definitely give it a go! Another was the festival and camping. It was probably one of the greatest weekends of my life, including two all-nighters, and there are things that will make me laugh for years to come.
Now for the crazy moment, or moments. If you read all blogs you will know I have had many moments where I have looked like a person who had escaped from a mental asylum, but one that really stick in my mind was I was in M&S shortly after I had come out of hospital. I kept having wierd moments of feeling unbelievably ill, where all I could do was sit on the floor, shut my eyes, and wait for it to pass. Well one of these moments happened when I was at the checkout while my mum was paying for some food. It came on so fast that all I had time to do was crouch down and rest my head on the side of the conveabelt. I eventually managed to get to the wall, where I sat and my mum passed me my drink, which was fizzy orange. In a rush to open it, I undid it to fast which meant it fizzed all over my hands, crotch and the floor. At which point the loveliest lad who worked there came over and helped me move and handed me some tissues and made sure I was okay. When the illness was wearing off he asked me if I knew where the toilet was. In a moment of madness, I thought that he thought I had wet myself, afterall there was yellowy liquid on the floor and my crotch was wet, and I stood up and shouted 'I haven't wet myself!'. Shortly after walking off in disgust I realised he had said it because I needed to wash my hands. My Mum said he looked gutted.
The others on the list are pretty self-explanitory.

The things I haven't done.

There is one that sticks out, and that would be the last one. To fall truly, endlessly and hopelessly in love. The one thing on the list I was hoping to achieve. It made me realise that as much as I am not that big a fan of 'love', its not something you can plan or arrange. It's pretty much the same with life aswell. I had planned this year in such detail, it was almost impossible to follow. Probably the biggest destroyer of the plan was when, 16 days into the year, I was taken ill and confined to a hospital bed for a month. But nearly losing this year, and the rest of my life made me realise you have a life to live, and you only get one chance. It doesn't matter how mishapen it becomes, aslong as you make the best out of it, because its your life and no-one else's.

However,I am making a plea. A plea to anyone who can help me achieve the rest of the things on my list before 2011 starts. Please no-one creepy for the last one...
For the next 37 days I will be rapidly running round town, just to tick some things on a list.
Live. Laugh. Love

Tuesday, 16 November 2010

Who will buy?

Last week me and my friend voluteered to sell poppies. A task which involved walking round the entire school shaking a donation box, being offered 2p for five, and defending ourselves from insults the year 7's threw at us. I also felt reluctant to give up my break and lunchtimes as I am yet to finish my personal statement for my university applications, a task which I find incredibly difficult as all I seem to be able to do is take the piss out of myself. I don't know how I am meant to make a University believe in me, when I don't particularily believe in myself.
Anyway, as me and my also ginger friend (you don't see that very often now do you?) were walking round the school, shouting like we were on a market stall, we recieved a bit of abuse from a year 10 who I find particularily terrifying . Now I dont know if you know that you can no longer get pins for poppies when you buy them from a school. Well this was the reason me and my friend weren't wearing one as we had no way of fastening it to ourselves and, as we expected, it was commented on. The lad (who you wouldn't want to meet down a dark alley) shouted, ''I'll buy one when you wear one!''. Although me and my ginger friend both ran off at this point, with scarlet faces and shame that someone 3 years younger than us had made us look stupid, I thought it was a valid point.

Why do we persuade people to do things we don't do ourselves? Why do we make people believe things we are not sure of personally? And how are we meant to justify doing something when the person telling you to do it, wouldn't do it either?

This made me think of my personal statement and asking people to give me a chance. Why do I think that by someone giving me the oppurtunity to achieve, it will make me achieve? Only I can make myself achieve and only I can believe in myself enough to get others too aswell.

Basically what I am saying is, people only believe in people who believe in themselves (try saying that with a mouth full of biscuits). I don't think there are many actors who walked into the audition for the part that made them famous, without believing that they could do it. Although the people on X-factor annoy me, every single one of them believe that they can win, otherwise they wouldn't be there. I think self-belief is sometimes percieved as arrogance, just look at Katie Weasel... sorry, I mean Waisell. People are publicly bashing her because she is not giving up on the oppurtunity that has and will change her life, and just because she has had small careers before being on X-factor doesn't that just show her ambition? Just because people aren't scared to reach for what they want, does that mean they think they are better than anyone else? No. It means they believe in themselves, and this should not be confused with arrogance.

Now there are people who are down right arrogant (including the year 10 boy) but I just get scared and run away from them, or make a joke about my ginger hair, which seems to be my defence mechanism nowadays.

Unfortunatly, I am still struggling with my personal statement, and when I finally get it done, I have strong feeling my application will be tossed aside therefore not getting me into University. But, oh well, it won't be the worst thing to write blogs for the rest of my life. To be found dead at 60, with a half drank bottle of wine, a strange hairline I seem to have these days, 'Murder She Wrote' on repeat, an unfinished blog, and a my face half eaten my 2 cats, Salt and Pepper. ( I really have thought about this too much)

On that note, I will leave you with some lyrics from the theme tune of a kids show, that I am embaressed to still know off by heart.

''It's a simple message and it comes from the heart.
Believe in yourself, well thats the place to start.''

I apoligise for the break in blogs, I've been swamped by coursework and not been feeling great. But luckily for you, you have 40 more years of my blogs about failed dates, and bad days you lucky, lucky people. Also I am really sorry for the particularily bad spelling and grammer, I accidentally deleted my word processor, and googling every word that you can't spell is time consuming.

Thursday, 4 November 2010

Don't try and make your life like a movie. It causes injuries.

Last Friday morning I was on the treadmill at the gym, and as a compulsive gym goer (seriously, if I dont go for a week I get moody) I really go for it. I mean really go for it. And just because I run alot, it doesnt mean I look good when I run. Ive caught myself in the mirrors before, and I look like a cross between Pheobe from Friends and an angry, 20 stone, New Zealand rugby player. Lets just say I dont look graceful, or in any way attractive. So, as I was flailing my legs very quickly, in time to the music playing loudly in my ear, suddenly the song changed. Now my Ipod does this alot, due to my headphones having a button on, which I really dont no what it does. The song which came on was good, albeit slower, so I didnt really mind.
Then something remarkable happened that Friday morning. I fell in love with a boy who looked like an English version of Chace Crawford. I'm not even kidding. He was a babe. I was in love. Well and truly in love. My heart was beating even faster than it already was, and I felt myself getting all flushed.

You know in movies, where the gorgous man walks past, and a song comes on that always seems really appropriete? Well, I've always wished that would happen in real life. So that whatever mood you were in there would always be a song that would automatically come on, that would be great would'nt it?

Well it happened to me. Just as he was walking right in front of my treadmill I realised what song was playing in my ear. It was a song by The Cure called 'Friday, Im In Love'. It was amazing. And while pondering the irony of this I will tell you another thing. In movies when that gorgous man walks past and the song comes on, have you ever realised in goes in slow motion? This was also happening to me. He seemed to be walking in slow motion, and I seemed to be running in slow motion. Only when you've set the speed on the treadmill to 9kph, you cant really afford to slow down.

So there I was wondering how my life had become so much like a movie, whilst trying to look attractive, and trying not to look directly at him. So much so that I came back down to the ground with a bump. Unfortuantly in this case, not a metaphorical bump, an actual one.

I was so caught up in the fact my life was near perfect, that I forgot to carry on running.

So there I was in a heap on the floor, wondering why I now had Lady Gaga playing in my ear (I still have no idea how my headphones work) when I saw Chace Crawford above me, saying something to me. To which I replyed 'Fine, just fine. Im going to go stretch it out'. I still have no idea what he said to me, and I limped off, flushed bright red.

Theres more. In the rush to get away from the situation I had left my treadmill still running and my bottle of water in the holder. Now as I am looking back I really should of just left it and gone and dug myself a hole and crawled into it. But no, when I realised I immediatley turned round to go back, and I saw him turning the machine off and, picking up the bottle. When he realsied why I was again stood in front of him staring at the bottle, he handed it to me. And all I could do was a thumbs up. A THUMBS UP! Who do you think you are? Fonzie from Happy Days?

Embaressed isn't the word.

So with a bruised knee and a bruised ego, I limped back to my locker. Mumbling words like 'stupid girl' and 'bloody brilliant' to myself. And even after a week I still dare not go back to the gym. Can you imagine my 'I have no idea what your talking about' conversation?
At the moment, I find it alot easier to sit on my backside and get fat, than to face Chace.

Live. Laugh. Love.

Wednesday, 3 November 2010

Ever become someone you dont like?

Basically, if I met me, I wouldn't like me.

I'm one of those people you have to get to know to fully understand what I mean and for me to get close to you. Im a bitch. Now I don't do or say anything to be purposely bitchy and I would never do anything to directly hurt anyone. But I fall into traps, by saying things at the wrong time or talking about someone a little bit too much. I really need to think more before I do things.

Also I interupt people when there talking. I dont even realise I do it most of the time. But sometimes I get my mum glaring at me - eyes wide open - and I realise I need to let others make there point. Therefore I am way too opinionated, and I want people to know my opinion. Annoying, I know.

And another thing. When I first meet people I kind of just stare at them and I cant think of anything to say. I end up just standing there like and arrogant, ignorant, stuck-up.....

Ok, so thats enough self bashing for one day. And I will try and make a point out of this blog.

''Your imperfections are what make you perfect''

Because although you may not like these things about yourself and wish you were somehow different, they make you, YOU! And who you are makes people love you. Well, thats what people say anyway. I say 'people' as I am yet to experiance this kind of love that everyone raves about.

I am also abit sceptical about the fact anyone will ever love the fact I compulsivley write lists, forget to put ice cream back in the freezer, frequently eat only stuffing and gravy for my lunch and pick my spots till they bleed. But I except the fact that that is me.

Maybe your one of those people who doesn't like who they are, and kicks themselves for the way they act sometimes. But believe me everyone does. And don't be scared to show your imperfections. After all, there what make you beautiful.
I think people often forget the fact that self-loving is about the inside aswell as out.

Gok Wan eat your heart out!

Live. Laugh. Love

Wednesday, 27 October 2010

Cilla Black never prepared me for such a bad blind date.

I guess a date could never start out right when the man involved texts you around half an hour before about the fact that he didn't realise you were ginger. But I'm afraid it was too late for this poor sucker to get out of the date, as he was already on the train.

A few weeks ago, I left my number on the bill and gave it to the waiter at a restaurant I visited. Never expecting a text, or any form of communication, me and my mum laughed about it for a good few hours. Until I got a text and I was absolutley flabbergasted ( <-- I love that word). And a week later, it turned out that I had a date.

As my mum pulled up at the train station, I couldn't exactly remember what he looked like, apart from the fact I knew he was fit. Which left me staring at the boy who had been waiting for me for half an hour, trying to work out whether I could of pulled something who was that unbelievably gorgeous. So I hid myself round the corner and acted shocked as he said my name (And even after 10 or more years of acting classes I still couldn't act the right amount of shocked and, as I recall my face must of looked like he had just shot a kitten).

As he had never visited my area, I agreed to 'show him the city', which only really sounds good when your living in a film in New York. And after 20 minutes of nervous conversation on my part, I had shown him 'the city'. At which point we decided to go to the cinema. But OH NO! my life is such a failure that we ended up seeing some French film, which was based on the animated characters from the Cravendale Milk adverts.

At this point you would think that things couldn't get any better. You'd be wrong. ( But you would be right to detect sarcasm)
After 75 minutes of painful watching, and not evan a cheeky yawn/arm round me, I had already given up hope of ever being able to talk in a sane way to him, and we walked back to the train station. It actually got slightly better, we had a conversation, and I felt a little more at ease.
Then it came to the goodbye. The worst part of any date, and this was the worst date in history!
It involved him going into the train station and me getting into a taxi. My exact words were 'Ermm, Im gonna get that taxi. Thankyou' and with a half-hearted hug, he said something along the lines of it being 'good'. A lie, if I ever did hear one. And I got into a taxi and never looked back at him and I sobbed, to which the taxi driver asked what was a matter, and I replied 'My dog has been run over'
I have never had a dog. I have no idea where that came from. But that excuse sounded alot better to me than admitting my failure as a woman.

As it goes I really dont know what the hell happened to me. I was faced with an absolutley gorgeous lad, with a really sexy accent, and I couldn't string two words together that didn't make me sound like an absolute wierdo. He was absolutley lovely. I wasn't myself at all. All my outgoing personality got locked up in a box inside me, and all the way throughout the date, was kicking and screaming to come out.

And now, whilst drowning my sorrows, it's made me think: why do our personalities change around certain people? Why do someones looks determine how we treat them, and act around them? And why is it when faced with everything you want, something happens for you too throw it all away.

As it goes, it probably wasn't meant to be. I mean I would love to be able to wipe the slate clean with him, so I could be myself, if I was too ever see him again. But as I have now deleted his number, it is totally in his hands. Something of which I am alot more comfortable with.

Ahh well it wasn't all bad to be honest, as he started out by complimenting me on my blogs, which for me, makes me happier than anyone ever saying I look nice, or even falling in love.

Sunday, 24 October 2010


Around a month ago I was using the computer at the gym and found that a man had not logged out of his Facebook. The first thought that came to my head was that I could do some serious Facebook rape here, and if it were any of my friends I would of. But I then thought of the amount of power that I had right in front of me. It may sound like an exageration, but I actually had the power to seriously alter, or ruin someones life.
Other than the standard status update of 'I AM COMING OUT OF THE CLOSET, FINALLY', there are some serious things I could do. Maybe sending private messages to friends and saying awful things on chat to family members. And thinking about this made me really scared.
How much power do we have to potentially ruin someones life?
If I had taken the full opputunity of being logged onto someone elses Facebook, I could of possibly ruined his social, work and family life, right there on the Internet.

But in every day life, what we say about someone could change someones life.
What you may think of as a harmless little rumor could knock someones self-esteem or change their friendships and potential friendships.
As a girl I've had lots of rumors made about me, and countless people gossiping about what I get up to, but do people ever realise how much it hurts?
I wish I was one of those people that could turn round and say 'I dont care what people say about me' but I'm not because I dont think anyone can truly say that. Even when I'm driving and someone pips at me, I worry because they think badly of me, which I admit is a little bit strange.
Just think about the last time you heard a horrible rumor that had gone round about yourself, you were hurt right?
But just how often, when passing on some gossip about someone else, do think about how hurt you would be?
How often do you think about how crap that person feels knowing that everyone is talking and laughing about the mistake they made?
That person you may be laughing about is a person just like you. And they will have to live with knowing that everyone knows about perhaps a split second wrong decision that they made. Because you would feel pretty crap aswell, you know you would.
Im no angel, and I would like to meet someone who could truthfully put there hand and say they have never passed on a rumor about someone. And granted, there are some people, who have done horrible things to me, so much so that I feel morally obliged to pass rumors on about them. But maybe next time when you hear a rumor about someone, think how crap you would feel if that rumor was about you. And, as Chezza Cole said last night, just because someones life may seem like a circus, its still there life, and it shouldn't be your entertainment.

But if the rumor is really funny, it's fine. :)


Wednesday, 20 October 2010

Old People & Bingo

As human beings we are quick to pick up on other peoples faults. The things that annoy us about other people, and make us angry, also things that we dont agree with and we wouldn't do ourselves.
But have you ever thought of what other people think YOUR faults are? Whether you talk about yourself to much, your always late or that you are really lazy?

There are two types of people on this earth: people who critisise themselves too much and people who critisise others too much.

I know I critisise myself too much. I lay awake at night unable to sleep, regretting little things I have said and whether people have taken things the wrong way, and what the subsequently think of me.
I also know people who critisise others so much that they dont seem to see there own faults. Sometimes it's a little bit like they are calling someone fat when they themselves are 10 stone overweight, or calling someone vain whilst checking themselves out in a shop window.
People like this make me want to scream!

The worst people for it are pensioners. Now I'm not being ageist, but what is it about old people and critisising others? My theory is that they have so much time to sit and think about people, and maybe they regret the things they didn't do when they were young, so there maybe abit of jelous.
But the other day I was helping out at an old peoples Bingo night and I met a lovely lady, who, when asked what perfume she was wearing answered 'Oh, Britney Spears'. Now this old lady was sat next to me and said something really inspirational to me. She said 'Whats the point in being miserable? It means your not enjoying your life, and evan though I'm nearly over the hill, I still have a good laugh'. Now if more people thought like that, the world would be a better place. Because she's right, why are we critisising others and ourselves when we could just move on and be happy. There are always going to be things that annoy us and make us angry about others. But who are WE to make others upset? And who are WE to make others feel like crap?

What that little, feisty old lady said and believed made me, more than ever want to have a happy and exciting life, so that when I'm old, I will lots of stories to tell instead of complaining and critisising. And trust me that old lady had alot of stories to tell, that are not are not fit to repeat!

If you don't have anything good to say, don't say anything at all.

Now thats over and done with, I would like to apoligise for the lack of blogs recently.
But hopefully I'm now back to filling you in on my very chaotic way of thinking.

And as always, thankyou very much to absolutly anyone who reads my blogs, it means an awful lot :)


Saturday, 21 August 2010

Time of death: AS Level results day.

On Thursday morning I woke up with a distinct feelinG in my stomach. And no, unfortunatly it wasn't butterflies. It was a feeling of sickening anticipation. AS Level results day.
They say that a lot can change in a year. But I think evan more can change in a day.
If you no me well you will no that I hate waiting for things, although I have patience with people, I hate waiting for things to happen, so I no what I am going to ultimately do.
On Thursday morning I woke up knowing that in a few hours my life was going one of three ways.

1. If i passed well enough to get into my second year of 6th form I would be continuing with my A levels and going to University next year.

2. Failure. Didn't get into 6th form, move to brighton to go to college there.

3. Yet more failure. Go travelling. Mum take a gap year and travel the world and then come back and take a journilism course.

I had options, that was the good thing. One of the reasons I love my mum is that she comes up with amazing options for me.
Another reason I love my mum is, that on Thursday morning, my mum came into my room and wished me luck and said 'At the end of the day, is it the worst thing if you fail? Youv'e had fun this year, its been life changing. And if you dont do very well, then you get to go travelling round the world'.
Then I started hoping that I had failed! How much better does it sound to go travelling around the world than to stay at 6th form for another year and stress myself out sooo much?
And it got me thinking. When people say 'When one door closes in life another door opens' they are right. I know it might not be true for everything, but when one door closes it opens windows, letter boxes, cat flaps etc. Maybe the lesser option might not be the worst. Maybe failure opens up routes to sucess. And maybe, just maybe, the door that seems the most scary fills you with enough adreniline to get you what you want in life.

In the end, I got enough in my results to stay on at 6th form next year.

Oh well, nevermind.
Evan if you dont open up those doors when you have the oppurtunity the first time, you may be able to save the key until when you are ready.

Look behind that door and see whats there. Whats the worst that could happen?

Sunday, 15 August 2010

One Tree Hill makes my life make sense.

Think of your favourite song. Which is your favourite bit? Whats the ending like?
Think of your last relationship. Which was your favourite bit? What was the ending like?

A wise man once said ''Everything must come to an end''. Someone from One Tree Hill once said ''Every song has an ending Jake, but is that any reason not to enjoy the music? ''. Okay so ignore the Jake bit and do you get what I mean?
Some songs have really good endings. 'Your love is my drug' by Kesha for example. At the end of that song she says 'I like your beard', which I personally think is a great ending. But I hate those songs that dont really have an ending, the ones that just fade out. I hate relationships that just fade out, that don't have an explosive ending, that you don't have any emotion for. Is it really stupid of me to say that i would rather end a relationship with an explosive argument than an argreement to just be friends? Wheres the excitement in that? Because it certainly wont go down in history.
One of my most memorable breakups, involved me sitting on my kitchen floor, crying, with half risen cakes in my hand. Now i'm not saying that was a nice thing to experiance (believe me it wasnt pretty), but you no what, it gave me something to write a song about. And it might be my warped brain, that always makes the best out of every BLOODY situation, but you no what, i've learnt my lesson from that relationship and breakup, so therefore, for me, it was a good ending.
At a festival I recently went to, I ended up camping next to an 'ex-boyfriend' (a term to be used loosly) of mine. We spent last summer together and to cut a long story short, it didnt end well, and I think it was the first time i've ever hated someone that much. But my new years resolution means I have to forgive everyone who has ever hurt me (the hardest thing I have ever had to do in my life!).
 I was dreading the thought of awkward looks and 'hello's' but we actually ended up talking for ages one night, and stayed up way after everyone else had gone to bed, just talking. There was no awkward silences or snide comments, it was just like it used to be.
It made me think. Why do we let our feelings of hate for someone who hurt us get in the way of us remebering the good times we had with them? After all, there must of been times when you had feelings for them, in order for them to get hurt.
Suddenly it makes sense. Just because a relationship enevitably has an ending, whether it be explosive or amicable, does that mean we can't have fun during the relationship?
And just because this life comes to an end, do we worry when we are going to die, or do we have fun and enjoy the time we have to the full? It's hard to always be happy, there are going to be times when its tough to evan get up in the morning. But just think your song could end at anytime, and whether it fades or you comment on someones beard, you no what, you can't replay it. So sing it loud and dance like crazy, cos before you no it, you could be listening to your encore. And how awful would it be not to get a standing ovation?

I will leave you with a quote from a song by my future husband Frank Turner - ''And if all you ever do with your life is Photosythesize. Then you deserve everyone of your sleepless nights, wondering when your gonna die''

Ooh and Hello to Josh Prime, the only person who reads my blogs :) Your a legend!


Thursday, 5 August 2010


I never understood the reason for delivery reports until tonight. I've always thought people who had them were abit paranoid about people not texting them back, I've always felt very laid back to say 'they will text back if they want too'.  But know i'm goin through a paranoid spell. I want to know whether the person has recieved my message, if they are going to reply, and what they are thinking. Yeh, I know some of that you can't work out form a delivery report, but you know what, I wish there was a report to say at least if they were thinking of replying! It would make my life right now so much easier, and it would mean I could get some sleep.
Now, I'm not about to pour my heart out and tell you who I want a reply from and why it's so important that they do (i'm not the openly emotional type). But the text message will kind of determine whether my heart will be a little bit bruised..... okay broken.
But then I find myself thinking: has this world become so unromantic, that things that determine someones heart, are done via text? And what's worse is, I am so bad via text. I am so uncharming via text. To be honest, I mess things up via text!
I've always found it really wierd how when my relationships (boyfriend/girlfriend type) break up i deal with it absolutly fine, and then when a relationship that never hits the boyfriend/girlfriend commitment stage, falls apart, I totally fall apart.
I think it's because, I have a big problem with not having closure. You see when a relationship ends, it's the END. When one of you makes the solid decision to not be with the other anymore. And thats closure alright, clean, pure, closure.
But when a undefined relationship fizzles to an end, when either of the couple involved decides 'NAH. This ain't for me' the other one is left with no answers, and no goodbye, no closure. That's why I end up in such a mess.
And that's where I see myself heading right now.



Wednesday, 4 August 2010

Boxes of crap

I am going through the process of cleaning and sorting out my bedroom, meaning trawling through endless boxes and shelves in my wardrobe and either sorting it or chucking it out. Coming to the end of the process and i have come to what is the worst bit, when there are pieces of crap, that you dont want to throw away but you are unable to sort out. Which is where my 'boxes of crap' come in. These items that have no place to be put go into a box full of the other 'crap' things, until the next time i have a sort out only to be put in 'boxes of crap' again.
So your thinking whats the point in this blog?
When i sat down after finally finishing the sort out i realised how my my bedroom is like my life, no matter how much i try to sort everything out and put it in its rightful place, there are still areas of my life that cant be completly sorted, no matter how well organised and 'tidy' and 'complete' my life seems to be there are always areas of it that cant be sorted out, no matter how much i try.
Until i thought of my life this way i have always tried to sort these areas of my life out without success. But it made me think: just because not everything is in perfect in my bedroom, does that mean i cant enjoy spending time in it, and just because there are messy areas of my life does that not mean i cant live it to the full?
Nothing in life is ever perfect, and you may not enjoy all of your life, but that just stresses the point that you have to live like there is no tommorow, because if you dont the 'boxes of crap' in your life will take over.



First Blog

'Poo' happens, you just wipe your 'bum' and get on with your life.
This is my blog. Something i thought i should do seen as i wasnt to be a writer/journalist/politician.
I have wierd thoughts
Please read and please be nice x