I don't need your hand,I don't need your heart, I don't need a parachute.

I've blatently stolen this idea from my pal Vicky at http://www.victoria-hannah.blogspot.com/, but I'm going to spend this blog telling you little snippets of information about myself.

1. I get paid tomorrow.
This excites me for two reasons. Mainly because it means i get to spend my own money for the first time in 3 years rather than my overdraft/the money of the good old bank, and two, because it means I get to purchase the following things..

 



2. I'm a magpie for jewellry, anything shiny and it's mine. I have a ridiculous collection of earrings, bangels and, rings. I wear it all at once, and often resemble a tragic old lady trying to reclaim her youth.

3. Alphabetti Spaghetti on brown bread with cheese, is the food of gods. I have a huge weakness for Nachos and gaucomole and I spend most days dreaming about a cup of tea with a Terry's chocolate orange.

4. Baking is lush, Just call me Betty Crocker.

5. By this time next year I plan to: finally learn to play my guitar, audition for xfactor, grow my hair another 4 inches, go to New York, gain a place to do a primary teaching PGCE.







6.I'm Beyond excited for Friday

I graduated in July and left the student world behind to  fake my way through being a responsible adult with a full time job (which I love) but part of me misses uni to the point where I wish I'd done a masters. Freshers Week, stealing all the good freebies at the Freshers Fair, the cheerleading sqaud, the Monday/Weds/Friday nights and the trips to Mcdonalds in our pyjamas the next day. So i'm heading down to see everyone on Friday on the last  night of Freshers for an inevitably messy night.  I miss being young, you feel alive, almostuntouchable when you've just started out.

All aboard.

And yes Victoria Hannah. I miss you, a lot.
Totes hun. <3

Loves take's hostages, and gives them pain, gives someone the power to hurt you, again, and again.

'There is a reason I said I'd be happy alone. It wasn’t because I thought I would be happy alone. It was because I thought if I loved someone and then it fell apart, I might not make it. It's easier to be alone. Because what if you learn that you need love? And then you don't have it. What if you like it? And lean on it? What if you shape your life around it? And then it falls apart? Can you even survive that kind of pain? Losing love is like organ damage. It's like dying. The only difference is, death ends. This? It could go on forever.' Meredith Grey- Grey's Anatomy

In the past six weeks, I have watched 7 seasons of Grey's Anatomy. I' m worried that I may be morphing into one of Surgeons.


 It's a running joke that I am dark and twisty; I seem incapable of invseting emotionally in my own life. I don't cry, I have perfected the fake smile and I am the one who people come to advice for. But here's a secret. I over emotionally invest in T.V programmes, in particular, One Tree Hill and Grey's Anatomy. My love affair with both is becoming slightly ridiculous, and to an extent, I relate far more easily to the surgeons of Seattle Grace Mercy West hospital, and the tangled lives of those in Tree Hill than I do to non -fictional human beings.

 In soap operas, the lives led by the characters are so tragic, happiness is something that is fleeting and ephemeral, like a shooting star; when it comes their way, they fight with all the strength they have to retain that little glimmer of something better. It's remarkable how quickly an audience identifies with a character; the sarcastic one, the needy one, the broken protagonist. Each relatable trait in them is endearing, until you realise the true reason behind your addiction; in reality, the characters are a reflection of the best and worst traits of yourself.


But these characters, all share one similar thread which binds them. They never take happiness for granted, people in this reality, fail in this respect. Life isn't as poetic as the speeches made, the scenes created or the immensity of the relationships projected onto the screen. True happiness however, is rare, the characters in those shows are right to grasp tightly to it and to centre their whole being, towards it's gravity. When opportunities present themselves, take them, take a chance, dare to dream a little bigger. The few I've grasped recently have been the ones which have presented moments to cling to; my Godson now gives me kisses, he miaows when he sees a duck, I said yes to an extemely tiring but rewarding job and I brought some ridiculously high heels despite already being veritically blessed.


I don't care if I'm morphing into these characters, that I'm emotionally invested. These programmes teach us valuable life lessons, Grey's exposes the fragility of life through the displays of medicine. The operations are to save lives, to better the patients quality of living, and to make a difference. Surgeries are, however, like life. Not everybody makes it. One Tree Hill highlights the importance of friends and family, of surrounding yourself with people who you are blessed to know. They both show us the importance of love. Because really, that's what life centres around, loving somebody with everything you possess and being loved back.

"She buys me chips and cheese and I tell her I love her and that she's all I need"

A famous, and groundbreaking four piece once proclaimed, " All you need is love, love is all you need.'

So why is it so bloomin difficult?

As a totally unqualified psychologist, I blame it on our childhood. We grow up on Once Upon a Time's, and Happily Ever After's, and then we discover that life isn't that easy, that heroic princes don't often slay dragons, rescue you from a tower and carry you off on a white horse.

So why do I still expect them too?

My love life of recent times has been, well, crap.  Let's just ay that  the last few men I've dated resemble the dragon rather than the prince, and thus has left me feeling more like Pinochhio's father, wishing for a 'real boy.'
So after a few awkward, silent, and some damn right horrific dates, I may have found someone I could genuinely like, rather than simply tolerate. But first, I'll run you through the most recent of dragons,

Paul was the boy from uni, the friend that was always down for being FWB'S, but didn't enjoy the "ties" of a relationship. Basically, he wanted to screw around. And I let him because he was insanely charming, funny, and sarcastic. (He later told me this was a mistake on his part, and I got to laugh in his face. Winning.)

Ringo- Survived two painful dates, both of which made me squirm, amazing chemistry, but no sexual attraction. He was keen, and I wasn't. Then I was keen and he wasn't. My excuse was that he was 4 inches smaller than me. He got himself a new girlfriend and paraded it around various social networks so I would see.

And then John stumbled into my life. Sarcastic, hilarious, and musical, on paper he was perfect for me. The best thing about it was that it was totally unplanned, I wasn't looking for anyone, or anything, but apparently everybody else could see it before I could.  After weeks of denying that I liked him, I made friends with two wonderful allies, Wine and Vodka and we arranged a date. (I did however,  have to be reminded of this in the morning when my head felt like a sumo wrestler and an elephant were playing musical bumps on my head.)


Fast Forward to a couple of days ago, and we're at the cinema. No awkwardness; not even when I bumped into a guy I used to have a HUGGGEEE crush on and went bright red. John kept his cool, he was distant enough to let me talk to this guy without being overprotective and held his own. Don't get me wrong, the date wasn't perfect; he didn't hold open the door,  I paid for the tickets, and we got soaked on the walk home, but it was a brilliant first date. We got to see if our sense of humours were in sync, the walk let us learn things about each other, and most importantly he likes sour apple Chewits and made me a cup of tea with milk and two sugars without being asked when we got back to his house.  I. am. smitten. And it takes a lot for me to feel excited about dating, because really I'm a stone hearted wench.

John, with all his positivity, hopes and dreams was my favourite Beatle; pretty fitting in this scenario. He represents the ideals we all wish to attain, the attributes we should strive towards.

So I have to ask the question: What's so wrong with fairytales if everyone lives Happily Ever After?