Tag Archives: lifestyle

DEAR DIARY: MY NEW ROOMMATE’S A BIT WEIRD.

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Jk, guys. I’ve moved in with Greig.

We only went and bloody did it, didn’t we? I mean it wasn’t exactly a laid out plan, but when a babe of a place with a converted attic, comes on the market, what’s a girl to do?

To be perfectly honest, we went into the viewing with an ‘we probably won’t go for it, but it’s always good to have a look’ kind of attitude… Then I immediately fell in love with the place. Meanwhile, Greig’s face had an expression which can only be described as ‘I could put my sound system in this attic’, painted all over his wee face.

It’s been a ridiculously stressful couple of months, but we’ve finally made it. We’re almost all unpacked, we’ve had all the ‘how many jars of screws do you possibly need’ and the ‘how many pairs of shoes can you own’ domestics there is to have and we moved in a fortnight ago.

Not to mention the most important of all days have just gone by… We had our internet put in. I am officially back living in the twenty-first century.

It’s true what they say, you’ve no idea just how much stuff you actually own until it comes time to pack it. The mammoth task of moving it all and unpacking has been tackled, so you shall soon be bombarded with one too many pretty pictures of said house.

Wish me luck poppets… I live with a boy!

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THE BEST FIVER I EVER DID SPEND

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Tragedy struck my life last month, when my loved ones took it upon themselves to come together as a collective and agree that I should be banned from Primark.

So, there I was, standing in Primark… 

It took me a good five minutes, a promise of only looking and not a single purchase, to wear down my sister. But before I knew it, I had fought my way into my own personal Primark heaven.

Now, as you’ll have already deduced, I did not make it out of Primark empty handed and I very much took my sister down with me. Who can blame us though, when a tiny little table was set up at the end of the cash desk – a holy grail type situation, if you will – to display twenty of Primark’s most wanted.

I GOT A CHIP MUG.

Yes, you heard me. The item stores are now limiting to two-per-person, the item I’ve seen more articles written about, the very same item that sold out all over the bloody country, is now in my possession.

He’s pretty, he’s little and dear god, will I never ever understand the people who’ve actually used said mug to consume beverages from. I’ve turned into that crazy aunt with the dollhouse, you may only look but not touch the Chip mug.

Categorically, the best fiver I’ve ever spent.*

*No, I’m not even exaggerating.

WE NEED TO TALK ABOUT THE ELEPHANT IN THE ROOM

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The past few months have been an absolute whirlwind of exciting changes, ginger jokes* and falling completely and unexpectedly in love. But the past month or so, I’ve been so concerned with other things that something monumentally important has slipped my priority list when it should have been pride of place at the top.

I’ve been a little unsteady, in myself. My mental health became something I took for granted in recent years. Because speaking as someone who battled with their own brain for years, I thought my days at war were long behind me, however, it turns out that it’s very easy to take your eye off the ball.

I’ve noticed myself falling asleep later at night, waking up later during the day and sleeping more than the average human being should. I truly feel on the brink of a 4-year-old-kid style nap at any given minute throughout the day.

Life in itself has begun to overwhelm me, but nothing in particular to pinpoint a root cause of such anxiety. Because let’s face it, ol’ Brainbox is nothing if not vague and unpredictable. But this particular feeling no longer feels familiar to me and I’m no longer the sassy genius I used to be at dealing with such occurrences.

My biggest mistake so far has been subconsciously avoiding this, shoving the big luminous purple elephant in the room to my peripheral vision and pushing on through, wasting weeks by doing nothing. Never taking the ‘me’ time to do any of the things I love (I don’t know how many times I’ve sat down to write and felt too drained to make words like a big girl), not sleeping on a schedule that means I can spend any great valuable time with my family, letting household chores sit around until the last possible millisecond and then feeling guilty when Greig gets there first. If there’s one thing I need to remind myself, it’s that I can’t run away from my own brain.

As I write this it’s 5 am and I can’t help but gaze at the freakishly tall human peacefully unaware beside me, feeling flooded with all the happy-gooey kinda’ feels he causes. But it’s then I remember my unwashed hair, Toy Story pyjamas (that I’m only wearing half of, because I was too exhausted to find the other 50% of Disney goodness) and I’ll barely be awake long enough to tell him about the happy-gooey feels. And truthfully that’s what’s got me writing this here long-winded post…

We all need to talk about the big purple elephant in the room more often. We need to break down this stigma that still lingers around us all like a big judgey raincloud and become more aware of our own personal warning signs, and not become complacent with being “okay”.

So this is my pact with you angelic lil’ nuggets to start tackling this elephant head on, no more silent wallowing, no more hiding away and certainly no more sleeping away the best years of my life.

It’s time to be OK, puddin’.

*EXTRA INFO: Greig’s very much tarred with a ginger brush.

8-STEP WINTER FLU SURVIVAL GUIDE

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As you can probably deduce from the title of this post, I have been cruelly struck down in my prime. My life and all it contains came to an abrupt halt this week and I withdrew from any form of functional society to reside in my bed. The only signs of life that can be observed are the trail of junk food, numerous glasses of blackcurrant juice and the intense, not at all dramatic and totally justified wailing about how imminent my impending death is.

And yet, despite all this hardship, I’m surviving guys. So, here’s a little insight into how you can too when I finally break the internet barrier and take you all down with me:

 

1. GIVE IN. GIVE IN, TO THE DARK SIDE.

Trust me when I say this, do as little as humanly possible. Don’t move. Become horizontal and choose an unsuspecting loved one to unknowingly become your flu-related slave. Comparing yesterday, a day of rest, and today, a day in which I naively tried to function in society, I know which I’ll be replicating for the next twenty-four hours. And trust me, you should too.

2. TV, TV AND MORE TV.

Now that you’re sufficiently immobilised, the only thing that can begin to make your spirits feel lifted is what I like to call ‘easy-watching’ TV. Now, to me, this means the kind of familiarity which results in very minimal concentration, since you can already quote each episode in your sleep. Watch until your heart’s content and your mind has been sufficiently numbed. Examples of which include: Friends, How I Met Your Mother, Gilmore Girls and the wonder that is Gossip Girl.

3. JUNK FOOD – TRUST ME, I’M NOT A DOCTOR.

What is it they say again, starve a fever and feed a cold? Well, that’s just what I did. Now, I know there is a queue of health professionals out there ready to slaughter me for this. But don’t you even begin to try to tell me that your throat and all of the suffering that it’s endured so far won’t thank you for the entire tub of Ben and Jerry’s you’ve consumed.

4. ENOUGH WATER TO SINK THE TITANIC ALL OVER AGAIN.

If you’ve stuck around long enough to remember my nuggets of wisdom from last year in, “11 Things I Wish I Knew Before My Twenties“, then you’ll remember my waxing lyrical about the wonder of hydration. This is triply true when you’re incapacitated with the flu. If you think your impending flu-death is unpleasant, try your impending flu-death and dehydration on for size, you’ll never take your eye off the ball again.

5. COMFORT IS KEY.

You’re ill, you’re exhausted, you’re bloated from inhaling an entire tub of ice cream before Friends’ theme song has even begun. The only thing that’s going to improve this situation is blankets. Blankets, blankets and more blankets. And don’t forget that soft toy you pretend you didn’t purchase from the Disney store, to accompany you in your time of need.

6. DRESS TO IMPRESS.

If the person you’re trying to impress is a onesie designer, that is. The bigger, the fluffier and the more OTT, the better. Bonus points for each Disney character onesie you can find.

7. THE LONGER THE BATH, THE BETTER THE BATH.

I truly believe that the answer to everything is a good bath. This is only quadrupled in truth when one has been taken down by the flu. Overload on bubbles, you’ll instantly perk right back up.

8. LOUDLY ALERT YOUR LOVED ONES TO YOUR IMPENDING DEATH.

And if they are anything like my friends and family, you’ll immediately be met with a chorus of “SHUT UP”.

 

On that note guys, I’m off to return to my Night Nurse induced coma.

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.

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.