Friday, 13 April 2012

You, make me love the things I hate.

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You would think, that at the grand old age of 22, that I would understand what it means and entails to be an adult I claim to be a grown up. I have a proper job, I do my own washing and I went to the hospital to get the news I needed surgery by myself. I lived without my parents for 3 years at uni, so it would be perfectly reasonable to assume that I am mature and have life sussed. I don't. Quite the contrary.

Selfishly, my parents abandoned me and jetted off to Antigua for the Easter holidays, and left me home alone for a week. I realized this was a mistake 24 hours in, when having been away for 3 days in Wales prior to their departure, I had nobody to pick me up from the train station after a 4 and a half- hour journey. Instead, I made friends with a taxi driver called Preeash who wanted to know my whole life story. He also knows where I live. I'm expecting to get a call from the bank telling me of identity theft any-day now.

I just about managed to cook for myself for the week, (mumma had generously stocked the fridge) and when the girls came down we ate at Nandos, and got  pizza. Healthy, no, practical, yes. However, it got to Wednesday, and I had run out of fruit, and I couldn't get to Tesco's because I'm still on crutches.Resorted to getting my vitamin C in the form of a multivitamin.

The worst bit? Taking out the bins. Yes, I'm spoilt. My parents don't make me do chores. So I was genuinely flummoxed by the two recycling bins, food bin, and food waste bin. I had NO.BLOODY.IDEA. So, what would an adult do? I rung my 28 year old brother whilst he was at work, and inquired as to what I needed to do. Shameful.

I've also discovered that I don't get any cooler in terms of relationships. I just think I do, but really I'm still fourteen years old. The boy who has etched a smile on my face recently is someone  who basically gives me a heart attack when I see him, and butterflies when he texts. However, in some ways I'm like a child in a toy shop, wanting something I can't have. Not the most adult approach to relationships.

So really, this week has taught me that I'm literally the world's worst adult. A girl who I think of as my little sister, has just left her small town, and moved to London by herself, to pursue something she loves. She's utterly fearless. I get aggy sleeping in my house alone in case there's a murderer lurking under my stairs. I rely far too much on the love, attention, taxi services and acceptance of others.

Maybe I need to grow up a bit. Or a lot.

Saturday, 31 March 2012

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'It sucks being the footnote in somebody else's love story'- Brooke Davis . One Tree Hill

Friday, 30 March 2012

You'd keep all your promises, be us against the world.

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IF you stop and think about it, how many people have you met, since you've been alive? Thousands probably. Teachers, friends, receptionists in A&E, shop assistants and randomers at festivals. How many people change your life? Only a few I'd imagine. Whether positively or negatively, these people force you to become the person you will grow old as. Whether we like it or not, relationships play the biggest role in our lives, the person you love first will teach you everything you will hold dear, your expectations and faults, your promises and potential. The person you settle down with, will inevitably impact your life in ways you will never even realise. They mould you into the best possible version of yourself.

So what happens if you end up falling for someone you can't have, or have lost? The oh so famous ' one that got away' ? I have never been one for being a girl, gushing about a boy, doodling his name on my notepad, I've always preferred to quite literally, suffer in silence. Faced with the 'one that got away', how on Earth does anybody cope? Heartbreak is pretty bad, but I think unrequited love is worse. This is why. You get all the same feelings, the butterflies, the nervous laughter, and feeling like you can't breathe, but the results of your
 affection remain unaffected, left paralyzed in the knowledge that nothing can't or won't, happen. But the thing is, you can't actually help yourself. It's masochistic in the sense, where you will endure the self pity and loathing, sure to come your way after, because the feelings of hope and optimism whilst you're with that person outweighs them. You will do anything to be near them, because more often than not, you're calmer, happier and more genuine around them, but you definitely (take my word for it) hate yourself afterwards. The guilt is all too consuming, and you can bathe in it for days. 


In the best case scenario, everyone lives happily ever after, but this isn't a fairy tale, and that rarely happens. The most common outcome of this 'one that got away' situation, is when you like someone and something happens, then silence. That's also the worst. Why? Because you've had a taste of how it could have been, had the obstacles not presented themselves. You've experienced the potential of things to come, and yet that's all it will ever be. Potential. Like I said, the silence is the worst. Because that's when you can still hear your heart beat increasing when you're near them, and it breaking when you leave. Some fairy tale huh?

Yet with all cases of the 'one that got away' you will always have the hopeful feeling that they might turn around, and come back.

Tuesday, 27 March 2012

i dreamed a dream.

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I am 22.
This is my life.


 i bake a mean banoffee loaf. i sing. i'm trying to teach myself guitar. i like laughing. i have a heart of stone when it comes to my own life, but fictional characters have me in tears frequently. my ice cream of choice is mint choc chip. i like doing the ironing. i want 2 tattoos but i'm a pussy. i love nandos but i'm allergic to peri peri- not that it stops me. I like cheap beer and cider. i like to draw. My favourite number is 8. I'm scared of ketchup. i'm obsessed with my blackberry. Tomatoes in my sandwhich make me angry. people who are late piss me off. i read the last page of a book first, so if i die before i finish it, i know how it ends. i have the best job in the world, and will be gutted to leave come July. I quite like the word's cunt and sausages. Charity shops are some of my fave places. i have secrets i haven't even told my best friends. i want a library in my house like the one the Beast shows Belle in Beauty and the Beast. my best summer was spent in america travelling, until 3 days before i went back to uni. converse and uggs are shoes of the gods. i still have the teddies from my childhood. i like a boy i cant have. i spend all my wages every month and have no savings . Sometimes i'm unsure as to why my friends are friends with me. Most days I want to catch the first flight out of England and turn my phone off. i'm sure Olly Murs would marry me if he met me. i have days where I wish i'd worked harder so I could have been a doctor. I'm a saggitarius. i kick off if there's no orange juice in the morning. im outspoken and if I don't like you, you know about it. photographs remind me not only of where I've been, but WHO i've been, and I need that. i lie.i swear.  i ignore. . i dream. i smile. i protect the people who mean the most to me, im different, but i'm like everybody else.  i'm myself. i'm simple. i'm complicated. 

take me or leave me. 

Some Twisted Sense of Loyalty

It has come to my attention that I spend a lot of my time moaning. In fact i dedicated a blog to things which made me angry, to which there are many more which need to be added. So as i sit here, on a large dose of co codamol, waiting to see my surgeon again tomorrow, I'm going to write a list of things which make me smile. God knows why, I feel like shite and I'm in an absolutely horrendous mood.

1. watching someone fall over, especially in the rain
2. watching old people walk on the beach holding hands
3. the smell of bread
4. the moment i walk into Topshop and see 'Mid Season Sale'
5.  sunbathing- even if freckles do erupt on my face
6. bbqs- smell of smoke and chicken rounded off with Kopperberg summer fruits cider and friends
7. re runs of scrubs
8. when a song comes on your iPod you havent heard in time
9.payday
10. karma
11. summer nail varnishes
12. discovering new music which completely sums up your mood
13. reading fest
14. new york
15. charity shops
16. Brighton
17. Cheap beer and cigarettes at gigs
18. seeing friends i haven't seen in ages and nothing changing.
19. hangover breakfasts
20.  bookshops- dont want any of this kindle shit.

Saturday, 10 March 2012

Where you live, shouldn't determine WHETHER you live.



I have literally never imagined a world where I don't have children, or find myself incapable of having them, them taken away or losing one. I've always envisioned a large family, two girls and two boys, a husband and a nice house with a rope swing in the back garden. I want to bake cakes, have a wall which they can finger paint on, and read them bedtime stories. I have never understood people who claim not to want children, they claim they're too selfish, or they don't have time. Frankly I think it's because they're scared they will love them too much.


Working at a school, I've realised children are a lot wiser than we give them credit for. Take this for example,a  year 2 told me ' Miss Pulleyn, I don't know what to do about my boyfriend, he never does anything for me and I'm always nice to him. I'm fed up of giving him second chances'. Apart from making me increasingly depressed, it struck me, why DO we stick with men who aren't worthy of our time? It's not like we can fix them. Another kid in my class,  asked in an RE lesson, ' why did God create the world so perfect and let monsters live here?' I think the monsters were dinosaurs, but the jist is the same. Monsters don't hide under the bed, they hide in our society.

Children are our future leaders, our  nurses, doctors, teachers, and politicians. They will change the world as you know it. One of them might even find the cure for cancer. 
So imagine this. Imagine your child is abducted, forced to join a child army or become a sex slave, and mutilate the faces of other children. Imagine they are forced to kill you, their parent. Invisible Children launched KONY 2012, in an effort to bring Ugandan douchebag, Joseph Kony to justice. Because those heinous crimes to children? That's EXACTLY what he does.

STOP AT NOTHING. Go to KONY 2012 and Invisible Children to be a part of something huge.

Change the world and save lives. Children shouldn't have to live in fear.


Sunday, 4 March 2012

but maybe we should stop pretending, we both know we're hurting?


There will never be a time where a friendship between a man and a woman is purely platonic. 

It's a different story when you're a kid; you start school playing with anything: stickle bricks, lego, the kid that wets himself and smells a bit funny. Then you learn that boys have germs and are afraid to go near them, but this changes the minute that you hit puberty.  When that frankly horrendous period leaves you crying in a double Maths lesson, there lies the transition to platonic friendship to the situation where the only boys you are friends with enjoy Physics and or haven't got with you yet. 

I'm sorry to say it, but it really doesn't become any easier when you reach adulthood as the lines blur even more. As a bit of a stone hearted bitch, I've always appreciated the no frills attitude of men, but equally have craved the strength of female friendship; so not only am I a social slut, it would seem, but I am also faced with a dilemma: I genuinely have friends who are boys. Some of the best people at uni were the boys I lived with or met on random nights out. I appreciate their masculine ways of how forcefully they demand "let me buy you a drink" and in turn, they appreciate that I don't tell them off for accidentally staring at my (non- existent) boobs. It’s like we're both stuck in a situation where we are aware that we are genetically and chemically programmed to have sex and procreate, but even though I don't fancy them and possibly vice versa, I find myself attracted to them? 

Take it a step further and think about how many people have kissed or slept with a friend of the opposite sex, which has ended up compleeeetely changing the relationship? Do we like each other or was it just a case of us enjoying the feelings of lust mixed with a cocktail of alcohol, too much dancing and someone we are endlessly comfortable with? You then incur the day of dread, guilt and confusion so poignant that it's kind of startling that you even had those emotions in the first place. Do you tell people in order to gain some advice or do you pretend it never happened in the vague attempt to engage with a degree of normality of the former relationship you shared? And what happens if the feelings of one party are unrequited? It's about as confusing as Louis Spence's reason for fame.

Drawing on a friend’s experience, she spent three years being best friends with a boy, completely inseparable, laughing off rumours about their  “obvious” sexual tension, only to realise on the day they  left uni for good, and he saw her off, moving  back to opposite ends of the country that she did in fact, love him. Shitty timing. So much must have been left unsaid, in that 3 minutes it took her to turn on her car engine and drive off without a second glance, that I wonder what would have happened, if she had stayed another hour and just addressed the all too revealing silence after she uttered ‘ I’ll be seeing you.’.   She’s now left in a perpetual state of limbo, trying to ignore the clichés but existing in a world where she realised far too late, that someone she loved had been living in her pockets for the best part of three years. She’s surrounded by the thoughts of ‘what if...?’ or ‘I wish I had..’ and her brain is a constant working repay of that moment when they said goodbye knowing the ridiculous ache they’d feel in the others absence. 

It's a toughie, because it's inevitable. At some point everything will turn to shit and a mistake will be made; the world is cruel like that. The easiest thing to do in my opinion is to avoid them for a month to get over the initial awkwardness then laugh. Nothing bonds a friendship like ' do you remember that time where I/you got your/my willy wet?' 

If all else fails, there is always Vodka.