90's nostalgia

I don't think this little blast from the past is listened to enough, everyone add this to your sex playlist, guaranteed hunnies. Thank me later.

Sunday song

Can't. Stop. Listening.

Sunday Funday

As promised, here are some things this week that have made me smile:

1. My best friend sent me this picture the other day, no words are needed, just enjoy.

2. A special delivery of cookies from a girl that lives in the flat opposite was so lovely.
3. My mum. Me and my mum are so close it's ridiculous, sometimes I think I tell her a little too much! But since coming to uni I appreciate her so so much.

So, as you can see this week was pretty crap. I was however, graced with the best piece of advice I've been given in a while from one of my oldest friends. I'm going to share it with you because everyone needs to remember this.

"Show 'em they can't mess with you"

Take it. 

You know I'm such a fool for you

It came to my attention recently, while I was laying on my bed staring into space (happens a lot, generally when I should be doing work) that someone had etched into my noticeboard their name, next to a whole chunk of bloody notice board scratched off and a (poor excuse for a) love heart. 

Exhibit A.

From what I gather, Jake must have had his heart broken from a name I can only see being Shaniqua. You may think it's none of my business, but seen as Jake obviously used to live in the room I currently do, I now sleep on the same mattress they used to destroy each other on. I guess you could basically say I'm a counter part to the whole relationship, so it's now my business. I wondered for a bit what must have happened for him to maim the noticeboard like that. Whatever it is, big shout out to my girl Shaniqua, this is why we can't have nice things. But when I was thinking about what happend (just call me Cap'n Creepy) I wondered if Jake ever regretted scratching her name out like that. We all do it don't we? We give our heart to someone, most of the time unknowingly, and then watch them break it. We wonder if they ever really gave a damn because it sure doesn't feel like it. We stop listening to songs or bands so we don't think about them. We block out memories and ignore everything that reminds us of them because it's too painful to fathom that while you're hurting on the inside, they're absolutely fine. We say hateful things about them to our friends, delete the messages that once filled us with butterflies and we throw away items that were given to us by them. It feels good as you begin to realise you're okay without them. It feels good until they come back. They come back and they say things, wonderful things that make you feel as though everything is beautiful. They click and you come running. You regret throwing things away, you try to recreate the messages, or remember them, you start listening to the songs again and you happily relive your memories. You wish that you didn't scratch out their name on your noticeboard because those hateful feelings have disappeared, they're making you happy again. Until one day, they're gone. And that's it. It's kind of sad that a person can make you feel like that. That someone can mean so much to you, while you simultaneously mean so little to them.

I hope that Jake is out there and he's happy. Because that feeling of despair is a shitty one. Unless Jake is a massive weirdo stalker, then I don't really care.  

UCA on Valentines

Took to the mean campus of UCA Farnham to ask these guys what their opinions of Valentine's day are:

Also, this is amazing, CLICK ME

Romance is dead

Waking up this morning, I was unusually ready to get out of bed an hour before my lecture. The sun was shining, birds were singing and I was inundated with Valentine's messages on my phone (no, that's a lie). Valentine's day, the one day a year that single girls pretend they love being single and independent (to not show weakness or something?), and girls in relationships preach that their partners show them copious amounts of love the other 364 days a year so it's not a big deal (but if they don't receive a card and dinner reservations, God help you, guys).

When I think of Valentine's day, I just think of a tacky excuse to exchange over priced boxes of chocolate, which if you think about it is a massive feeder ploy. You guys laugh at the fat women on the internet that video themselves eating, while weirdos think about being smothered by their fat folds. But you all grab the biggest (or cheapest) box of Thorntons to feed to your significant other. Being an inquisitive journalism student I rang Waitrose PR people and they told me their confectionary sales are up 28% this year! You fat bastards. Flowers are a massive pain in the arse as well "Sweetie, I love you, let me show you how much by giving you something that will wither and die in 2-3 days". I've never been given flowers (bitter, me? Non!) so I guess I don't understand really how lovely(?) it must be. But as far as I'm aware flowers don't give you to a triple orgasm, so they can't be that great. 

LOOK, look how cynical I'm being! Is this me joining the mass of single girls that "don't care about Valentine's day"? Am I going to go home and hate on girls in relationships and bury my misery in a tub of Ben and Jerry's?! No! Why? Because Ben and Jerry's is nearly five fucking English pounds, and I'm a student. 

Whether you're in a relationship or single, Valentine's is something you can't escape. Your Twitter feed is filled with people taking a stance or gushing, Facebook is a bag of balls anyway so it doesn't count but I bet your timeline is full of low res heart pictures from Google Images. Reddit hasn't let me down so far but we're still early in the day. Even what I'm writing now is contributing to your Valentine's viewing.

In all seriousness though, maybe we should all just sack V day off. Following the tragic news of Olympic and Paralympic star Oscar Pistorius, keeping clear of the holiday might be for the best. She was trying to do something nice and he fucking shot her. Twice. Gun crime in South Africa is so high, 50 people are reportedly gunned down daily. But that's a story for another time.

On a brighter note, whatever you're doing, wallowing, sexing, being wined and dined, have fun and be safe.
Me? I'm dressing up as a zombie and getting drunk. You can't justify a fiver on ice cream but you can a tenner on vodka I hear you say? Don't judge me you bastards.

Love you bye!

Sunday listening

S'good.

The corners of your lips turning upright.

I WILL KEEP UP WITH THIS BLOG. I WILL KEEP UP WITH THIS BLOG. I WILL KEEP UP WITH THIS BLOG.

Happy Sunday! I think I need some continuity in my life, so I'm going to start a feature here where every Sunday I'll post a couple of things that made my week a lovely one. YAY POSITIVE! So, here we go:

1. Finding out Fall Out Boy have come out of sexy hibernation or whatever the fuck they were doing. Queue a new album and a tour! I fangirled all over the place. Not even sorry.
2. Chugging (my version of chugging) the dirty pint in a game of ring of fire and not throwing up, then proceeding to have an amazing night at the SU (I know right.)
3. Realising that I AM A STRONG INDEPENDENT BLACK WOMAN THAT DON'T NEED NO MAN. But really, this week I have realised how happy I am on my own, which is something I didn't think would happen for a long time. GIRL POWER.

I think three is enough for now, any more and it becomes too "LOOK HOW AMAZING MY LIFE IS" and any less it just seems ridiculous to even post about it.
Also, I realised my last posts were very word heavy and didn't have any visuals, and if you're like me, I don't really engage with something (unless I really want to) if there aren't any pictures. So, I present to you, my amazing flat mates and best friends, the guys that LIGHT UP MY LIFE ~~~~~

And, because I'm only human;
Here is something that has really pissed me off this week - 
Fall Out Boy have one gig date in the UK, it is to be held at Underworld in Camden on the 25th of February. Tickets went on sale at 9am Friday the 8th of February. I was dedicated, my alarm went off, I dragged my still drunk butt out of my cosy bed, away from being spooned by two of my favourite people, stumbled down my hallway, laptop and debit card in hand and woke up my flat mates who wanted tickets. It was half eight, we sat, we waited, we refreshed like mad. See tickets and gigs and tours were up and I was raping my f5 key like nobodies business, and all of a sudden I had the option to buy tickets. I put all my details in but no one else could pick up tickets, I was in a massive panic. They refreshed like crazy and I hesitated to press purchase tickets just in case (because I'm an idiot). Refresh again, the time is 9.03 and there, on the screen, making stomachs flip and hearts drop all over the country: SOLD OUT. When I pressed purchase I was faced with the same two words draped in disappointment. Absolutely gutted. But why, WHY did they sell out in THREE MINUTES I hear you ask?! Because See Tickets are complete anal fiends and they didn't go on sale when they were supposed to, they were up early.
But hey ho, plan B is to go to Camden anyway on the 25th, have a super sweet chilled day and listen to them from afar.

Always have a plan B, they tend to ensure a better story than plan A did anyway.

Forgive me (Step) Father for I have sinned.

After finding out that I don't have to wait for the latest series of New Girl* to air in the UK to watch it (I'm slow on the uptake, I know) I grabbed my laptop and started watching the first episode. 

After going through, let's say, not the best couple of weeks of my life, one of the closing quotes particularly spoke to me, as lame as it is. 

“Yeah, life sucks. And then, it gets better and then it sucks again and it just…sucks.”

It's not Shakespeare, nor is it Plato or Marilyn Monroe. It's the work of Elizabeth Meriwether and Kay Cannon spoken by actor Jake Johnson who is portraying the beautiful, bearded and cynical character that is Nick Miller. 

If you're still reading this; I expect you to be all thinking "What the fuck are you talking about?" BARE WITH ME. 

The point I'm trying to make is that, as positive as I try to be in life, the quote spoke to me because it's true. I don't want to be negative, I hate being negative. But there's a difference between looking and life cynically and being realistic. Life is good for a bit when things are going your way, when you get that guy, that job, that pay cheque that means you can run through Topshop like a gazelle in the wild picking up dresses you'll never wear and not caring about the price tag. Life is good when you and your family are in good health and you lose a bit of weight because you're actually sticking to a diet and you have things to look forward to and FOR ONCE no one is being a dickhead. But then the guy isn't there for you anymore because of a bullshit excuse, your job becomes repetitive and mundane, you sorely regret all those dresses because you can't buy toilet paper and they just won't sell on eBay. Then the bad shit really happens and someone you love becomes ill and there's nothing you can do about it and you realise your diet means you can't eat a whole tub of Ben And Jerry's to yourself even though it's too late and the evidence is smeared around your lips. The things you looked forward to have passed and EVERYONE on the planet has decided to be a dickhead. Then you realise,  life does suck, and all you can do is deal with it.

I'm waging a juxtaposing war in my own head of positivity and negativity. Life is beautiful, but it is also full of sadness. I think what's so hard to remember though is that; it goes on. 


*BEST PROGRAMME EVER! ... LIKE SERIOUSLY EVER.

Music gives

Close your eyes and think of heartache, 

Little little

I've had blogs before, several in fact.
But they all end up the same, banished to the deepest corners of the internet where they are untouched, festering until eventually, they are deleted. Blog death.
I believe half the reason my blogs don't survive is because I've been filling them with what I think people want to see, not what I enjoy writing about.
I've done news reporting, outfit posts, pretentious ramblings and a beauty review and I hated writing them even more than I resented myself for hitting 'publish'. 

I'm a little geeky, I buy things because they're pretty, not because I'm going to review it. I've stuck to the same make up for about 3 years and I have no intention of changing it. I love tattoos and beards and cats (not necessarily in that order). I have a dirty mind and I laugh at my own jokes, I get drunk too much and trust too easily.
But, that could all change next week.
I write nonsense most of the time, but I feel this blog is a necessity if I want to stop drunk texting.
I'm on a journey and you should come with me.