OCTOBER FAVOURITE’S

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Okay, I know we’re now halfway through November and suddenly it’s socially acceptable to play Christmas music, but I digress. I am a painfully unorganised person, so I’d like to think I get at least one blogging ‘hall pass’ for my disorderly ways.

However, here’s the things that I regarded as having floated my boat last month..

  • ALOE VERA GEL – This worldly beauty is constructed one hundred percent, from the purest angel kisses. Fact. Or at least I think so. This wonder product fixes everything, and I mean everything. Dry skin? Aloe vera. Spots? Aloe vera. Boyfriend left his pants on the floor? Aloe vera. A career related existential crisis?.. Have I mentioned aloe vera?
  • PRIMARK MUGS – As we know, we are all partial to a casual stroll past Primark’s window and somehow find ourselves £80 lighter before we can say, “Do I really need this?”. But upon one fine October day I happened upon the best mugs a person could ask for. Now before you mistake this for a sweeping statement, allow me to point out that these magnificent pieces of porcelain can hold two, yes two, cups of tea. And the best part? Oh, the very best part? They are currently on sale for one glorious pound. *
  • HALLOWEEN Am I regarded by society as an adult? Technically. Do people generally see Halloween as a holiday for children in adorable costumes? Technically, yes. Did I use it as a means to dress up as the Joker and get blindingly drunk?.. My parents must be so proud.
  • THE WALKING DEAD – Hi, I’m Alice. I take six years to finally watch a TV show and binge watch six seasons of said show, in an astonishingly sad, two weeks. The most devastating part of all this being, that I’m finally caught up in the show’s hype, whilst the majority of my family and friends stopped watching two seasons ago. It’s a cruel world out there kids. PS. You are all cordially invited to my wedding to Rick Grimes.
  • TOPSHOP GLITTER POTS – Now as a woman who has often been referred to as a magpie, through an intense love of anything that sparkles, you can imagine my delight when I happened across Topshop’s glitter eyeshadows. Which seem to combine the glory days of Barry M Dazzle Dust, with the 2016 hype of iridescent highlighters and the result? A party on your eyelids, which with the right primer, I can confirm will last all night in even the most drunken states. All for a mere nine quid. (Don’t worry guys, I put in the hard work, I did the groundbreaking research.)

* Disclaimer: I, as a person, cannot be held responsible for the aftermath of impulsive mug buying. Please do refrain from directing your families rage at their ever decreasing cupboard space my way, as I’m still searching for a leg to stand on with my own.

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DEAR DIARY: WELCOME TO THE MOST AWKWARD MOMENT OF MY LIFE

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Lately, I’ve been feeling just that little bit shit.

Stay with me here, I know this post’s coming across as a bit of a bummer, but trust me, you will get your gloriously awkward ending.

Now, I firmly believe that everyone should have a thinking spot. A place that you can take yourself off to when life just gets a bit too much and give things a good old mull over. So, that’s exactly where I went.

After a while of being tucked up on hidden patch, of what is already a relatively secluded beach – Aside from the odd dog walker, who lets face it, merely adds an element of animal therapy to an already pleasant half hour – scribbling what little wisdom nuggets I have left into my pretty patterned notebook, I quickly realised that this situation was, in fact nearing fatal and I could not resolve it on my own.

So, I called for back up.. My best friend. She has to, by law, put up with my monthly mood swing, right?

And there I sat, contently whining about life and all it entails, while my furry baby snuffled her way around every individual pebble and attempted to take on a flock of six mutant sized seagulls.

It was then I glanced up and noticed a couple making their loved-up way onto the middle of the rocks, a mere thirty foot away from me. – Cue my regaling my best friend with my cynicism surrounding romance and all it contains. – So, I made the conscious decision to gather myself up and leave their little love-bubble untainted by my sad Susan aura of the day.

Did he, or did he not, at this exact moment drop to one knee with a surprise photographer blocking my only exit?

Of course, he did.

There were tears, loving embraces, loved ones bursting out with balloons and a small photoshoot on the rocks to follow.

Stage right? My good self, looking like I had crawled out from under a bridge. I’m talking all kinds of glamorous. (Trackies, spotty face and huge top knot.) All the while wrestling an old beach-found Space Raiders packet from my furbaby’s jaw.

The phrase “pulling an Alice”, which has sadly become a frequent amongst my nearest and dearest ones, now holds a whole new meaning.

… I’ll see myself out. – Much like I eventually did from that beach.

11 THINGS I WISH I KNEW BEFORE MY TWENTIES

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Here I sit, fetal, Winnie the Pooh pyjama clad, Pot Noodle in hand and water bottle tucked beneath my jumper. It’s a hormone extravaganza in here today, so what better to do than impart what little wisdom nuggets I have collected thus far…

 

1. Baking is good for the soul. – Never underestimate the power of baking. Those calories don’t count, you’re their ruler and creator, they can’t stage a coup.

 

2. Tea. Lots of tea. – I spent the first two decades of my time on the planet, blatantly defying the genetically inbuilt British tendency to drink tea and those are two decades of my tea-less life I will never get back. Sit back and let the beigey, warm goodness wash over life’s troubles.

 

3. You can’t please everyone, stop trying. – Are you a Nutella jar who’s recently acquired the ability to read? If not, chances are, you won’t be pleasing everyone anytime soon. Live your life, let them live theirs.. And eat Nutella. In vast quantities.

 

4. Non-padded bras are key to boob comfort. – There’s a fifteen-year-old version of myself, quietly rocking in a corner somewhere as I type this, but just trust me. It’s true. No, nobody can see your nipples. No, you don’t look strange. You are, however, embraced in a kind of boob comfort that money can indeed buy. It’s a boob hug waiting to happen, if you let it.

 

5. Comfy pants. – Following on from all the boob talk, let’s take a second to endorse the comfortable underwear. No matter how many times your teenage brain tells you that a Tammy Girl thong with monkeys printed upon it is a good idea, step away. Think about your options, come to terms with the fact that Bridget Jones really did have a clue and tell me how much better your day is when your butt has a hug.

 

6. Water. – You’re like a plant. – For some of us, staying hydrated is a chore. But hindsight is a wonderful thing and the dawning realisation that I spent the first two decades of my life severely dehydrated and didn’t need to suffer half the dull throbbing my brain was rewarding me with, has left me clutching at water bottles for life.

 

7. Red lipstick. – You want to look like an alluring 1940s siren? Red lipstick. You want to up the makeup ante, but cannot for the life of you, force your fingers to coordinate long enough to achieve eye makeup? Red lipstick. You wan-… Oh, you get the picture.

 

8. He’s not worth it. – Now, lets face it, by this point in our list-making you’re a red lipstick wearing, comfortable-boobed, tea-drinking, watered plant. So, it really should be a given that whoever he (or, she) is, they’re just not worth it. But, it often takes even the best of us far longer than they deserved for us to see this. If Jennifer Aniston and Angelina Jolie can get over Brad Pitt, you can get over that fuckboy driving you to Maccy Dee’s in his 2007 Corsa.

 

9. Travel mugs. – Correct me if I’m wrong, but the only thing better than consuming vast quantities of caffeine, is consuming said vast quantities of caffeine whilst on the move. Not only do you have the added boosts of energy throughout the day, but you also combine that with the added suspense of, will I make it to the loo before the primary school classic ‘Stop The Bus I Need A Wee Wee’ becomes a tragic adult reality.

 

10. Life starts when you stop caring about what you look like. – Who knew I’d grow to regret the teenage years in which I would recreate the crying scene in Alice In Wonderland, in the Topshop fitting rooms? Who would’ve guessed, that I’d stop restricting what I felt I could wear because of how I felt about my lumps and bumps? Not me, anyway. However, if there’s one piece of advice I could journey back in time and give the blonde bombshell, that is my 16-year-old self – Did I say bombshell? I mean insecure wreck. – it would be this, if anybody who’s opinion you value highly has anything negative to say about your appearance, ditch ‘em. Consider this number one nugget of Alice wisdom, if you will.

 

11. Terrible TV, is the best TV. – Because let’s face it, there’s absolutely nothing better than a Teen Mom marathon. Except maybe a Teen Mom 2 marathon. I will never be ashamed to proudly admit to my seven years of avid viewership. You shouldn’t either. There’s nothing that can’t be fixed by tea and trash TV.

THE LIFE AND DEATH OF ROMANCE

To have grown up into a culture where terms such as ‘side chick’ are commonplace, I can’t help but feel horrendously out of place. Growing up, I was the typical delusional Disney child who’d been convinced by our good friend Walt that she’d grow up to one day fall in love with her handsome Prince Charming and they’d ride off into the sunset together, having overcome some great and torturous evil.

The reality? Not so much.

Twenty-first-century dating, is no walk in the park. All the romantic, nervous and quaint ideals that were once surrounding the act of “courting” someone are now a distant memory, and what we’re left with is a distinct lack of morals, with a side order of wanting your cake and eating it too. Intimate, romantic dining has now been replaced with sloppy, drunken nightclub settings. Beautifully composed love songs, have now been replaced with the unbelievably sexist musings of Robin Thicke. Eyes meeting across the room, has now been replaced with a ‘swipe right’ on Tinder. Forgive me if I sound outdated, but when did we let romance die?

At which point did we lose the social structure of meeting, courting, dating, relationship? Everybody knew where they stood. Nobody was left tentatively awaiting a text message during their walk of shame the next day and nor were people left pondering, scrutinising each and every communication from their date, frantically rationalising that ‘seen’ button along the way.

What changed? At which point did we decide to drop the 1950s style courting rituals, for the 2000s style ‘quantity over quality’ mantra.

And, more importantly, how do we get it back?

Believe it or not, this blog has a purpose.

Given that life itself is something I generally find most taxing and is certainly not my greatest of skills, one may ask why I’m writing about it – And one would be right to. However, the answer isn’t one of a straightforward nature. Keeping journals, diaries and up to date social media has been a frequent feature in my life since an incredibly young age, and I have a love of writing, so the next logical step was to turn my nostalgia-filled love of the English language and drag it into the 21st century with me. 

Whether this results in four followers who often roll their eyes and wonder why they are still reading, or four hundred, is of no grave importance to me. What is, is having a place to build up memories, favourite books, makeup products, music, general wonderings and somehow have the end result being a documentation of my twenties that I can forever look back upon.. Hopefully with the odd sentimental chuckle, as opposed to recoiling in cringeworthy horror.