Unfathomable

I woke up this morning to discover the apocalypse had been ushered in whilst I slept. Oh, good.

Okay, so I don't pretend to know much about politics and all the intricacies and hierarchies and whatnot involved. And I don't like to talk about stuff like this on the internet usually because I don't have the energy to argue with people.

But I have to say something about Trump, because try as I might, I cannot fathom how he has managed to bullshit his way into the Presidency. I'm not saying Hillary Clinton is perfect, but she was qualified. She had bags and bags of political experience, and she was the only logical choice.

There's no question that she should have won.

How on earth has America gone from having Barack Obama as President, to electing a man who was endorsed by the KKK?

Bigotry, misogyny, racism and general intolerance won today. The history books are going to remember 2016 as a political shitstorm, worldwide. First Brexit, now this.

What the fuck is going on?

Song of the Day:

Things that go bump in the night

It's going to be another one of Those Days. The kind where I'm just going to feel a little off-kilter all day. A bit unsettled.

It's because I didn't really sleep last night. I went to bed just after 11, read my book for a while, then turned off the light to go to sleep, and that's when the dogs started barking (probably at around midnight or so). My next door neighbours have dogs but the barking wasn't coming from their house, it was coming from outside, probably a couple of streets over. And several other dogs joined in, too. This went on for about ten minutes, it was pretty weird. I can only assume that a litter of dalmatian puppies had been stolen and the dogs were taking it upon themselves to uncover the truth instead of leaving it to the useless humans. I mean, that's the only logical explanation.

But anyway, the barking died down and I settled in and tried to fall asleep. This took ages, as it sometimes does, but eventually I sort of drifted off, but then I was plagued by really terrible dreams. And not the kind where there's a lot of weird and fantastical stuff going on and you can tell it's a dream, but the kind where it feels very much real and you're in a place you know and the horrors are things that could feasibly happen in real life. I woke up, suddenly all thoughts of sleep gone from my brain, heard a noise in the house and managed to convince myself that there was someone else there. Which is super fun to imagine when you're home alone in the middle of the night.

Logically, I knew there was no one there, because I remembered shutting all the windows and locking all the doors and I hadn't heard any sounds of a break in, and all I had heard was a creak and houses do creak sometimes. But still, I was unsettled from my bad dream and so it took me a little while to feel normal again. I checked the time and it was only 2am, meaning that at most, I had only slept for about an hour and a half. It took me hours to fall asleep again. Hours of tossing and turning and trying to turn my brain off. 

So today I'm running on limited sleep and it's sort of set the tone for the rest of the day. I'm in a mood.

But it's not all bad because the Great British Bake Off makes a triumphant return tonight so at least I can watch that. Silver linings.

Song of the Day: Backbeat by Dagny (We're borderline, wasting time/ Pick it up and tell me that you love me like you did before)

Currently reading: Percy Jackson and the Lightning Thief by Rick Riordan

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A jumbled mess of thoughts

It's been a month of radio silence so I'm just going to sort of ramble incoherently for a bit, don't mind me.

I feel like 2016 is some sort of cosmic joke, and if there's a parallel universe then it must be having the best year ever where something wonderful is happening every single day just to balance out the insanity that is this year in this universe. Every time I think it can't possibly get any worse, something else happens and it's exhausting.

You know how when you were at school, and sometimes if your class had been a bit noisy or some people had been acting up or whatever, and the teacher used to tell you all off as a collective instead of singling out the troublemakers? So you'd know that you personally can't really be in trouble because you didn't do anything, but the teacher's mad and you feel guilty anyway? That's sort of how I feel about Brexit.

The sun is finally out in England but I hate it already. I really love the idea of summer, but when it actually arrives, I can't cope with it. It's too hot. I never last for too long outside, I managed about an hour yesterday before retreating indoors for a cold shower. I can't help it, I just crave the cold and darkness, like the strange little hermit I am. I grew up in Saudi Arabia, this shouldn't be happening to me. Although in fairness, we had air-conditioning in Saudi, whereas here there is no escape and the heat just encompasses everything. It's like being in a hot bath you can't get out of. I hate it. Also I'm terrible at keeping myself hydrated so that probably doesn't help (I should really work on that).

Last week, Jack went to hunt down some ice cream, and he shouted to me, "What are these things in the freezer?"
Unable to see through walls, I called back, "What things?"
"The things that look like muffins."
"The muffins, you mean?"
There was a silence before his head popped back around the corner. "Alright, Sarcasmo," he said. He calls me that a lot. I answer a lot of Jack's questions with sarcasm and eye-rolls.
"I wasn't even being sarcastic. They are literally muffins. That's why they look like muffins."
You see, sometimes Jack asks really obvious questions and I have to remind myself that I'm actually quite fond of him.

But anyway, my parents are back from their holiday, we're having a BBQ later and I'm going to drink a shandy whilst driving everyone bonkers with my complaints about how hot it is.

Song of the Day: Leave A Trace by CHVRCHES (You talk far too much for someone so unkind/ I will wipe the salt off of my skin and I'll admit that I got it wrong/ And there is grey between the lines)

Currently Reading: Passenger by Alexandra Bracken

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Just keep swimming

I don't know about everyone else, but I'm currently feeling very anxious and uneasy about the current state of the world. During the last week, practically every day has been a bad news day, filled with events that I just can't wrap my head around. It's times like these when it really is incredibly easy to just lose all faith in humanity, at least if you've been paying attention.

But here's the thing: you have to go through life believing that people, in general and at heart, are inherently good. You have to. Because otherwise, what's the point in anything?

Anyway.

If you don't like what's going on in the real world, dive into an imaginary one instead! That's what I've been doing. I think I said on here way back at the start of the year that I was aiming to read 30 books in 2016. I set it up as an official goal on Goodreads so it was easier for me to keep track of how I was doing, and I actually started off really well. It didn't take me long to get ahead of schedule and I was feeling incredibly chuffed with myself. It didn't last, however, and I ended up in a gigantic reading slump and didn't even go on Goodreads for the longest time. When I finally did log back in it informed me that I was 5 books behind schedule, and I was like, "Whatever, Goodreads, I don't need this kind of negativity in my life," and promptly logged back out again.

For my birthday (I'm 27 now. I'm not all that psyched about it), Jack got me - among other things - 3 comic books. Or graphic novels, whatever you want to call them (I don't care). I read all of these in one day which took me to just 2 books behind schedule. Then I finally finished I Am The Messenger by Markus Zusak, which is fantastic, and then I read The Rest Of Us Just Live Here by Patrick Ness which I bought with some birthday money. I think my dad might have recommended it to me. He definitely recommended something by Patrick Ness. Either way, I really enjoyed it. But my point is that I am now back on track according to Goodreads! Hallelujah.

I'm currently making my way through the Grisha trilogy by Leigh Bardugo (I'm on book 2) which I initially had no interest in reading, but they were only 99p each on Kindle and I'm a sucker for a bargain, because I am my mother's daughter. I'm actually enjoying them more than I thought I would, although Six of Crows is much, much better. I read very quickly when I'm in the right mood for it, and lately I've been in the right mood, so I'm going to ride the wave while it lasts and see how far ahead of schedule I can get, which will be handy for when I inevitably fall into another slump.

Chins up, everyone. Stay safe.

Song of the Day: Midway by Bad Bad Hats (Midway between the end and the start/ I cried like a baby, I tore you apart)

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Wasps are stupid, but also terrifying

It's getting towards summer now, which means at night time my windows are likely to be open. This also means that every once in a while, I will be awoken early in the morning by the buzzing sound of a very disgruntled wasp that has managed to fly through the window and can't figure out how to get back out.

Eventually, they always seem to sort it out and escape, but until they do, I can't really open the curtains. Because wasps aren't like bees. Bees are round and fuzzy and in general, less inclined to sting you. They're just trying to pollinate flowers and make honey. (Save the bees.) Wasps, on the other hand, are driven by hatred and incandescent rage. And when they get trapped, they become incensed. So when the idiotic creatures have managed to get themselves caught in between my curtains and my bedroom window, I can't even try and help by opening the windows wider because that involves opening the curtains. And if I do that, then a tiny, buzzing ball of pure fury will suddenly be directed at me. 

When this happens I pretty much live in fear until the buzzing stops, then I have to hope that it has found the window and escaped and isn't just lulling me into a false sense of security. So yeah. I'm not a fan of wasps. They're like the geese of the insect world. (I hate geese, I cannot stress this enough.)

Song of the Day: I'm a little ashamed of this (let's call it a guilty pleasure song) but 80s Mercedes by Maren Morris was on some random Spotify playlist and I can't get it out of my head.

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Thoughts about Paris

I was going to write a blog post today anyway, an update on how I'm getting on with NaNoWriMo or something, but in light of what happened in Paris last night it didn't feel appropriate somehow to wither on about that. Not today.

It's another day when the world we live in just seems a little (or a lot) more terrifying than it usually is, and my heart just feels heavy and sad in the aftermath of such senseless violence and death. It boggles the mind.

I don't really know what I can really say about it that hasn't already been said.

Stay safe, everyone

X

Woeful Wednesday

I'm having one of those days.

Dark clouds have gathered in a manner that has me peering out of the window every two minutes, scrutinising the sky with increasing suspicion, just waiting for the rain to fall. It's not supposed to rain; I have checked and re-checked the weather forecast, and when I put my washing out to dry earlier on the sun was shining. But not now. It's going to rain, I can feel it, but my washing isn't quite dry yet so I don't want to bring it in until I absolutely have to. So I'm waiting. Waiting for it to start to rain so that I can say, "I told you so," to no one in particular - to myself, I guess, there's no one else here. I could just get it in now and hang it inside to finish drying, but I know if I do that it won't rain, and I'll wish I had left it alone. It's Sod's law.

It took me ages to get to sleep last night because I had the theme song from Red Dwarf stuck in my head (it's a song I enjoy, but it's not exactly a lullaby), and as a result I woke up in a bad mood with a headache. There was nothing in particular I fancied for breakfast and so I didn't have any, and besides, I wasn't all that hungry. I had to wait in for a delivery which always sets me on edge, I don't know why, and it turned out I needn't have bothered because it ended up fitting through the letterbox anyway.

I'm cold but I don't want to put the heating on, not yet, and I want to make a cup of tea even though I only just had one. I don't know what I'm going to have for my dinner; I don't even know what my options are, I haven't checked the fridge or cupboards. So I'll probably just have whatever requires the least amount of effort because I'm tired and grumpy and seriously considering putting on some pyjamas and giving up this day as a complete and utter write-off.

So yeah, I'm having one of those days. And I'm still waiting on the rain.

Song of the Day: For What It's Worth by The Cardigans (A four letter word got stuck in my head/The dirtiest word that I've ever said/It's making me feel alright)

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It's nice to be looked after

I love having my parents in the same country as me again because it means I never really have to worry about meals - they will always feed me. That's not to say that when they're not here I don't eat, because that would be silly. I just mean that when teatime creeps up on me, I don't have to suddenly decide what to cook, because someone is already doing the cooking for me. 

Yesterday, my parents went to meet friends during the day and so had their 'main-meal' at lunch time, so come the evening they were just going to have something small, leaving me to fend for myself (how selfish of them). But I discovered something new: if I stand in front of the fridge looking sad and pathetic for long enough, my dad will make me cauliflower cheese for my dinner. With chorizo, because I'm fancy.

Don't get me wrong; I'm an adult, I'm perfectly capable of looking after myself. It's just nice when someone else offers.

Also, a few weeks ago when I wrote about wanting to read The Martian, my dad came back from town with a copy of it for me, which is why it's sometimes useful to have parents who read your blog; surprise gifts. I finished it yesterday by they way, and it's really good, I would definitely recommend it. I've never rooted for a character so much in my entire life. Admittedly, it's hard not to root for someone who's been stranded alone on Mars, but still. Next up I'm reading Ready Player One by Ernest Cline, and then after that I think I'm going to start the Daughter of Smoke and Bone trilogy by Laini Taylor because it was recommended to me by my lovely friend Lydia. Yay, books! 

Song of the Day: Alive by Empire of the Sun

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Letters I will never send

I've been listening to the album Fires by Nerina Pallot a lot lately and for some reason it made me think of things and people that I haven't thought about in years. It's interesting to me that sometimes even though people may only be in your life fleetingly, they can still have an impact on how you see the world, or how you view relationships. Everyone you meet has the ability to help you grow in their own way, I guess. Anyway, I got inspired to write a few letters to people. Some involve wounds that have long since healed, but it felt quite cathartic to write everything down anyway. They're mostly to boys, such is life. I've left out the names on all except one, because these are real people and y'know, privacy. I could have just written these in a diary and left them there for me to read only, but in the end I wanted to put them here. So I'm releasing them into the void.

Dear _____,

I used to think I was in love with you, which is so silly to me now but it's how I felt at the time. Oh to be young and hopelessly naive. You had a girlfriend who went to a different college and so I knew it was utterly useless and one-sided, but you used to flirt with me outrageously. Always giving me hugs and pulling me onto your lap and making me feel like I was special. Looking back at it now, you knew; you must have known how I felt, and yet you toyed with me anyway. You left me dangling on a string, lapping up any attention you threw my way. That was really shitty of you.

Dear _____,

You seemed to come into my life out of nowhere but somehow at just the right time, and I fell head over heels pretty quickly. We weren't together for very long, but you were wonderful and I'm grateful to you for a lot of reasons, mostly how you always treated me with such care. I'm glad that you ended things when you did because I think that if you had left it much later you would have broken my heart. It's been almost nine years, but I still remember you fondly. I wish you well.

Dear _____,

You somewhat misguidedly decided to confess your feelings for me while we were in the cinema with friends watching Happy Feet, and even though I didn't feel the same, you never accused me of putting you in the 'friend-zone' (ugh). Your friendship meant the world to me and I was so worried it would never be the same again, that you wouldn't want to face me. But you never let it get awkward, you just let it go and never treated my friendship as a consolation prize. You easily could have just ignored me for the rest of the year but I'm so glad you didn't - you made that year a bit more bearable for me. Thank you.

Dear _____,

If I could go back in time and not meet someone, it would be you. Your brief presence in my life did absolutely nothing for me and I still don't know what I was thinking. I always knew it would end. I just wish it hadn't started in the first place. 

Dear _____,

I'm so glad that you're one of the people I'm still in contact with. No matter how much time passes between us seeing each other, it is always seamless when we're together. I hope no measure of time changes that. Even though we had that turbulent year and I spent a lot of time angry at you and thinking you were the worst of us, you were actually always the best of us. You still are. I'll see you soon.

Dear _____,

I don't know if you'd even remember this, drunk as you were, but once you ended up on the phone to me while you guys were all out partying and I wasn't, and at first you said you wanted some girl advice, but then you told me that you missed me because I hadn't been around much lately. And then you said that my boyfriend would never love me like you did. You paused, and then you laughed a little, and so I laughed too. But I always wondered if you meant it - alcohol tends to loosen the tongue after all. You never mentioned it again, you'd probably forgotten and so I didn't bring it up. You were one of my best friends, and we don't talk anymore. I hope you're happy.

Dear _____,

I don't even know where to begin. I'm terrible at staying in touch with people who live near me let alone people that live further away and I'm sorry for that. I miss being able to see you all the time and I still think of you as my best friend even though I might not have the right to anymore. Of all the pictures I have in frames, you are in most of them so I think of you everyday and sometimes I miss you so much that it overwhelms me and I want to call you. But I'm in a weird head-space lately and I don't know what I'd say. I do want to see you soon though. I love you.

Dear _____,

You were the first boy I ever really loved, did you know that? It almost seemed like it was fated; you ending up in the room right opposite mine, and from the first time you wrapped your arms around me on the steps outside the student union because we were cold, I knew something amazing was going to happen. And it did. If it wasn't for you, I might not have gone back to university after first year so in some ways I guess I owe getting through my degree to you. But oh, we used to fight. We used to scream at each other and say nasty words and make each other cry and it was so much sometimes that it felt like the world was ending. But we loved each other, didn't we? That used to bring us back together. That used to be enough, until it wasn't anymore. Something changed. I watched the distance grow and grow between us until I just felt empty inside, and I'm so sorry that I left it so long without saying anything. Maybe I thought it would fix itself and I didn't want to worry you. But I think I was just delaying the inevitable; trying to hold onto you for as long as I could, until I couldn't take it anymore. It was selfish of me, I know, to ambush you with it like I did. I still clearly remember you telling me "I feel like I don't know you anymore" and that shattered me. I still wish we could have retained some contact but I understand why it wasn't really possible, I don't know why I ever expected it to be.

 There are days when I miss you so much it makes my heart ache. There are days when I don't think about you at all. 

Dear Jack,

These days, I often don't want to go anywhere or see anyone. Social situations (unless I know about them in advance and can mentally prepare myself) are more likely to make me anxious as I try to avoid or deflect questions about my life with jokes that make it sound like I don't care. (I do care.) But you never make me feel like I have to be anything other than who I am, even if I don't know exactly who that is. I am such a grumpy bugger whilst you are a ray of fucking sunshine and I will always be glad to see you at the end of the day, even though I'm unlikely to ever tell you that to your face. You are an open book, whereas I am decidedly not, but it works. No one has ever been as patient with me as you are and I'm fully aware that I don't make things easy. I'm selfish and erratic and indecisive and sometimes I expect you to be a mind reader. But I've also never laughed with anyone as much as I have laughed with you. Whenever I have bad days and feel like I'm worthless, just having you near makes me feel human again and I'm eternally grateful for that. 

I'm forever yours.

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It's a bit warm out

Me: "It's hot today."

Jack: "It might be too hot."

 - a conversation Jack and I have every single time the temperature exceeds 22 degrees (Celsius). 

But yeah, that's my life at the moment. It's too hot, always. Even right now, it's raining but it's still too hot. I can't cope with the heat as well as I used to be able to, which is a bit strange because I used to live in Saudi Arabia (which is a very hot country, in case you were wondering). But then again, the house I lived in there had air-conditioning, as did all the classrooms in my school, and all the shops and supermarkets and so on. There is no air conditioning in my house here. There is no escape. Oh well, at least I can watch Wimbledon safe in the knowledge that at least I'm not as hot as the tennis players are. Silver linings.

My brother James has recently been having debates on Facebook with people who still believe the earth is flat. He told me about this on Friday and it made me irrationally angry. There's plenty of things that you can have plausible conspiracy theories about, but the earth being flat is not one of them. It's basic science. Apparently they think that the satellite pictures and everything have all been doctored. I was thinking about this intermittently and a couple of days ago we were sitting in the garden and I turned to James and said, "How do the flat-earthers explain the seasons then? Or time differences? Or why when it's summer here it's winter in Australia?"

And he said, "They can't."

Oh.

Each to their own, I suppose.

Song of the Day: Saying Goodbye by Every Avenue

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Moody Mondays

We've reached June, which is weird because it was Christmas five minutes ago, but whatever. I'll roll with it. I turn 26 in exactly a week. That is harder for me to grasp. I'm still 17, right?

I feel like I've reached the point where I'm no longer particularly excited by my own birthday. Although Jack has mentioned that he has bought me a few gifts which I won't turn my nose up at. I like being given things. I wish I could keep the presents but not have to move past the 18-25 age bracket. I don't know, I think I'm just becoming increasingly aware of my own mortality and that's pretty terrifying, especially when these thoughts only tend to creep up on me in the dead of night. Oh well, who needs sleep anyway?

The trouble with being in your twenties is that you assume you should have your life together by now, because that's what you think is supposed to happen after you graduate. You're supposed to know what to do next, apparently. By my age you should already have your dream job and you should maybe be thinking about Settling Down, because that's what society has drilled into you for as long as you can remember. But here's the dirty little secret that no one ever tells you when you're still in school: no one in their twenties has a fucking clue what they're doing (please pardon my french). Honestly, trying to compare your experiences with those of other people in their mid-twenties is going to accomplish absolutely nothing except make you feel miserable and inadequate. So I'm going to try really, really hard not to do that.

My brother shared this on Facebook the other day and it feels pretty appropriate for my mood today:

I am the worst at adulting.

Song of the Day: Hold My Hand by Jess Glynne, because it makes me happy.

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Deep Dark Fears (basically a ramble on why I'm afraid of the sea)

I've never really considered myself to have any proper, fully-fledged phobias of anything. Don't get me wrong, there are plenty of things that I'm not particularly fond of, or that make me uneasy. I don't like spiders when they're inside my house (they don't bother me outside); I don't like being in crowds so big that you're constantly being jostled by strangers (this is part of the reason why I've never been to a festival - that and I hate camping and port-a-loo's); I'm not very good on roller-coasters, I have to really build myself up to go on them and even then I usually shut my eyes the entire time because it's not as scary if I can't see what's coming (that being said, I still don't think I'll ever go on Oblivion ever, ever again). However I wouldn't say that any of these are crippling fears, and I wouldn't consider them particularly debilitating to my life. I wouldn't let them stop me from going to a Theme Park or somewhere I know will be very crowded.

The only thing I can think of that I would equate to a genuine fear would be the ocean. The ocean terrifies me, and it's something that has only intensified as I have grown older. I still love the beach and the water, and I will still paddle and swim (if the water visibility is perfect and I'm absolutely sure there is nothing in that area that could kill me). But there is always something in the back of my mind that sets me on edge and stops me from being a hundred percent in the moment. I would never let my guard down in the ocean, and whenever I do go swimming in the sea I am constantly reassessing my surroundings, and where I am in relation to the shore/boat and how long it would take me to get there in a hurry if I needed to. And yes, part of this is my irrational fear that there could be a shark literally anywhere (even places that I have been assured there aren't). It's silly, I know, but Jaws is one of my favourite films and I have an overactive imagination. 

I've been thinking about it and I think I can remember where the root of my fear began. I can't remember how old I was (maybe about 6 or 7), but I think we were in Dubai and my brother and I were playing in the waves. All we were doing was letting them catch us and riding over them, like surfing I guess only without the boards. Some of them were getting quite big and closer together and after I had just gone over one wave, the next one was already starting to break so instead of being able to go over it, I got caught at the bottom and pushed under the water. I was stuck in the momentum of the wave and got caught in the next one too, and it just kept me tumbling round and round, unable to get free. After that one I managed to swim to the surface and I couldn't have been under the water for longer than 30 seconds realistically, probably less, but it felt like ages. Once I'd got my breath back I carried on playing, because when you're a kid, the fun outweighs the fear always. But I think that ever since then I've always had that moment in my mind every time I've been swimming in the sea.

When I was fourteen I was part of a school trip that went to Vietnam. We went on a boat trip and we were allowed to jump off the top into the water. It was actually really high up, and it was starting to get dark so the visibility in the water wasn't great, but there's something about being surrounded by friends that makes you brave, and I did it. Twice. It's funny, the journey down was exhilarating, but after I had plunged into the sea and come up to the surface, it felt quite unnerving to be in that much water. After the second time, two of my friends came towards me on a kayak and one of them, thinking he was oh so hilarious, pointed behind me and said, with a panicked expression, "Look out Emma, a shark!" Deep down inside, I knew he was joking, but by that time I had managed to sufficiently freak myself out. I didn't even bother looking behind me, just swam to their kayak as fast as I could and nearly capsized it climbing on board. It's safe to say that after that I lost my nerve and didn't do it again. I don't think I'd have the nerve to do it now, to be honest.

As much as I don't want to let it stop me from ever enjoying myself (and I won't), I do think that it's appropriate to have a certain amount of fear of the ocean. The ocean isn't our home; we don't live there.  Every time we go in the sea, we are invading the space of the creatures (many of which can easily kill you) that do. The ocean itself is like it's own entity, moving with the waves and currents which can also, incidentally, kill you. I think a lot of people don't fully respect the ocean. But I do. At heart, humans are selfish creatures, but when we're in the vastness of the ocean, we're forced to realise how insignificant we are. Honestly, that's what makes it the most rational fear of all.

Song of the Day: A Song About Love by Jake Bugg

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New hobbies

I have a headache. Which probably isn't being helped by staring at a computer screen, but hey-ho. Here we are.

February came and went with the blink of an eye as it always does because it is so short, but I find that March seems quite short too. Mostly because by the time your mind processes that it is not February anymore, it has already been March for a good few days. In theory it should be warming up now, but although the nights are getting lighter it feels like we've fallen back into the depths of winter. It reminds me of this comic. After January, winter just becomes a bit of a burden because there's no Christmas to look forward to. Bring on summer, I want to sit outside.

I've started drawing. Although I'm not a jealous person by nature, I have always envied people who seem to be artistically gifted. I've had a change of heart though. Whilst I still think that there are people who have a natural flair for drawing, it actually takes a lot of work and all those people just try a lot harder than the rest of us who say that we're not very good at art. Last week I decided that I wanted to get better at drawing so I just started practicing. I think the coolest thing about sketching is that you start out with some circles and lines on a page but you build them up and they become something, and it's really rewarding when your finished product actually resembles what you wanted it to. It's hard though, and it takes time. Patience is a great virtue, but it's never been one of mine, so it's good for me to start taking more time over things. When I told Jack that I'd started doodling he said, "Are you going to draw me like one of your French girls?" because he is oh so hilarious (I'm assuming everyone will get the reference). So far I've pretty much been drawing some of my favourite cartoon characters, but you've got to start somewhere and it's really fun.

Speaking of cartoons, here's some awesome ones that you should definitely watch if you don't already:
Avatar: The Last Airbender
Avatar: Legend of Korra
Over The Garden Wall
Adventure Time (obviously - everyone knows how much I love it)
Bob's Burgers

Watch them. Thank me later.

Song of the Day: Like I Can by Sam Smith

Currently reading: Death Cure by James Dashner

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A revelation

I got up early this morning to do some exercise before I thought the better of it. It was still dark outside as we are stuck in what feels like an eternal winter, and 5 minutes into Jillian Michaels 30-day Shred I was beginning to realise how unfit I am. Also, why do her two mates that help her on the videos smile so much? It's not fun, it's hard. On the plus side, as long as I keep it up, it will get easier. So I'm calling this Day One. Wish me luck.

My reasoning for doing workouts in the morning rather than leaving it until later in the day are that I figure it will make me more productive for the rest of the day. If my alarm goes off at 7 and I get up straight away, I can get ready and do my exercise and be all finished by 8. Then I can have a shower, get some breakfast and a cuppa, and I'm all energised and motivated and ready to take on the world by 9, at the very latest. It's a good plan and I'm determined to stick to it. I really really am.

The only problem with getting so much done so early, is that now it feels like it should be mid to late afternoon, when actually it's only 12.30. Oh well, I'm sure I'll manage to adjust.

In other news, I really want to make these candles, because come on, they look awesome.

Via Hello Natural

Song of the Day: Young Chasers by Circa Waves

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Merry Christmas Eve Eve!

There is no place more claustrophobic than a supermarket on the 23rd December. On this day a few years ago, I went to Waitrose with my Mum like the good little helper I am, and it was one of the most terrifying experiences of my life. (I have led a somewhat sheltered existence, I know.) It was so busy (which I had been expecting), and people are incredibly ruthless at Christmas time. They will try and force you out of the way with their trolleys if you happen to be standing in between them and the last box of mince pies. 'Never again,' I said to myself. 

Today, after noticing my Mum's sizeable shopping list, I offered to go with her again. 'It won't be like last time,' I thought. 'I'm older now. Wiser. I can handle this.' How wrong I was.

I spent the majority of the time trying to keep out of everyone else's way whilst my Mum nipped in and out of spaces to grab what she needed. I tried to manoeuvre the trolley into areas where I thought not many people would go, like in front of the avocados or near the end of the aisles where there wasn't actually anything on the shelves. At one point I was nearly squashed in between our trolley and an elderly gentleman's who was pushing his with reckless abandon and not looking where he was going. No one has any trolley etiquette and it is infuriating. Everyone seems to think it's a great idea to leave their trolley horizontally across the aisles so you can't get passed, and when you say 'Excuse me' they either give you a look of contempt that you have dared to speak to them, or they just ignore you entirely.

My Mum overheard a man telling his wife that he couldn't stay in there as it was that busy and just walked out, and I heard a lady threaten her children that it wasn't too late for her to just cancel Christmas. So all in all, everyone was full of Christmas spirit.

So there's a nice festive rant for you. If you're lucky, I may return tomorrow with a tale about how I learned the cold hard truth about Santa Claus. 'Tis the season and all that.

Merry Christmas!

Currently reading: The Walking Dead: Compendium One

Song of the Day: Underneath The Tree by Kelly Clarkson (very catchy - would definitely recommend a listen!)

Link of the Day: 13 Dogs and 1 Cat enjoy a holiday feast with human hands. 

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I'm having a bit of a moan. Indulge me.

I feel a bit like a walking calamity at the moment. On Friday at work, I was warming my hands under the lights where the food gets plated up, and I accidentally touched the bulb with my thumb. I don't recommend it unless you're a fan of burnt skin. Later on, I was going downstairs to let Jack in with the takeaway he'd picked up, when I slipped and travelled the last few steps on my arse. Ever so gracefully. I wasn't really hurt, but I did whinge about it for far longer than was necessary. Partly because I was embarrassed as Jack saw what happened through the window, so when I opened the door he said 'Are you okay?' but not in a concerned way, more in a 'that was really funny but I need to assess whether or not you are actually injured so that it is acceptable for me to laugh at you' kind of way.

So due my 'injuries', wisdom teeth trying to make an appearance, and various other reasons, I feel like a giant ball of misery at the moment. Sleep is hard to come by as I can't quite seem to shut my brain off at night. Has anyone else noticed that any problem seem insurmountable at night, but come daytime you can take on the world again? I'm getting a lot of that currently. As soon as the darkness creeps in, so do the doubts. Which is annoying because it's winter and it's getting dark at about 4.30pm right now. 

Oh well. This too will pass.

Song of the Day: Will You by P.O.D. I'm currently listening to a lot of the stuff I listened to when I was 15. I think it's good for the soul to be nostalgic.

Just a minute

So I have been back from Rome a little over 2 weeks now and yet my blog remains woefully quiet. Sorry. Well, I've been busy. So I'm not that sorry.

At some point I'm going to try and condense my holiday into one blog post, but for now I'll just say that it was awesome. I would definitely recommend going.

Coming up I've got a leaving do, a potential trip to Liverpool and Jack's birthday. I really don't know where the time goes, it'll be Christmas before we know it. But anyway, I'm off now. I'll be back soon x

Song of the Day: Eyes Without A Face by Billy Idol

Currently reading: We Were Liars by E. Lockhart

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Sigh...

Today is one of those days when I just can't settle on doing anything in particular. I've been doing little bits and bobs of everything here and there but I'm having trouble sticking to just one task, and so instead of having any completed tasks, I have lots of half finished ones instead.

I want to bake something but I can't decide on what I would make. I always make cookies or brownies so I don't want to make either of those, but those are my go-to recipes. To make anything else would almost definitely mean a trip to the shop for ingredients, but it's raining outside and today my brother has the car. 

The rain means no outfit photos, not that they'd be of any interest anyway as I am currently experiencing a 90's throwback in my over sized jumper and acid-wash jeans. Comfortable, yes, but not very photo worthy. 

My iTunes keeps playing Christmas songs (which I love, just not yet!), and the birds in my garden are being obnoxiously loud today. I managed to catch the end of a particularly sad episode of Smallville while I was eating my breakfast this morning and I feel like it has set the tone for the rest of my day. I've been trying to do more of my next writing assignment but I'm having a bit of writer's block with it at the moment, so I came here to write this instead. 

And here I sit, embracing my bad mood and trying to turn it into a writing exercise. If I can't be writing what I should be writing, at least I'm writing something.

If you need a bit of cheering up today, read this.

Song of the Day: English Summer Rain by Placebo. Seemed appropriate.

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Cupcakes!

There's nothing better than eating a cupcake in the sunshine.

I made these yesterday and they are super yummy. I used the Hummingbird bakery chocolate cupcake sponge recipe and then just made a standard butter-cream if you're interested.

I'm trying to teach myself how to make a blog design. I want to update mine, just so it looks a little bit more professional. At the moment it's just a blogger simple design with a few tiny tweaks, but I want to learn a bit more about html and try and upgrade it myself. We'll see how that goes!

Other than that, I'm continuing to write, work, and enjoy much needed down-time on the weekends. In a word, I'm content. It's nice.

Song of the Day: Life's A Happy Song from The Muppets soundtrack. I can't stop singing it, so catchy!

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Procrastination

My main problem with writing is that I’m a terrible procrastinator. I know that I’m not the only one – I think pretty much everyone is guilty of procrastination. I used to be terrible when I was writing essays at university. I always got them done of course, but I managed to drag out the process for much longer than needed with the amount of times I’d stop writing to do something else, like the washing up or tidying the flat. I remember when it was the week my dissertation was due in and I was trying to get it finished, my friend rang me to see if I wanted to go to Morrisons with her, and despite not needing anything, plus being well aware that I needed to be spending all my time on getting it finished, I decided that going to Morrisons was a great idea. 

Obviously, any writing I’m doing at the moment has no deadline, unless I set one for myself. I have no one to answer to, and no obligations, so it’s much less guilt-inducing when I allow myself to be distracted. Another problem of mine is that I seem to suffer from a false sense of accomplishment. I’ll write a paragraph or two, give myself a big pat on the back and decide I’ve done enough to deserve a reward, which could be anything from having a cup of tea, to giving myself the rest of the night off and watching a movie. 

It's looking very likely that I'll be starting a long distance writing course soon, and although I'm allowed four years to complete it, I really don't want to take that long, so it's going to be important for me to make myself some kind of timetable that fits around work. Sticking to personally set timetables has always been an issue for me but I think in this case I'll really be able to sort something that works. Of course there'll undoubtedly be a little bit of procrastinating, but hey, I'm only human.

Cardigan: Miss Selfridge

Jumper Dress: Dorothy Perkins

Boots: New Look

Song of the Day: Don't You Forget About Me by The Wind & The Wave. The original is one of my favourite songs but this is a really good version.

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