Saturday, 30 April 2011

Things I want.

So I'm skint, yet somehow this drives me to do more window-shopping than ever! So this is my current wish list for once I've worked out my disposable income this month.

From Dorothy Perkins. To go with a coral pink cardigan I already have and these shoes...
...which are the most amazing shoes I have seen in years. And now my student loan is in, do they have them in my size online? Nope. I may actually cry. So if you're listening Dorothy Perkins, sort your life out. Thanks.  Anyway...
Skirt from Joe Browns online
Such a cute vintage-style dress from New Look which would go so nicely  with the shoes that DOTTY P'S DO NOT HAVE IN STOCK. Ahem. I'm over it, honest...
From Zara, but I need to find some better shoes than those granny-tastic beasts on the model.

As an outfit together from River Island. It was chosen with THOSE shoes in mind but I may opt for some grey dolly shoes. I have a skinny brown belt which will go nicely too.
And I'm not sure how I've made it through life without these yet... some fold out pumps I spotted in River Island.
Shopping spree over...

Money now please?

And yes, I realise this is the third blogging genre I've attempted in two days, but I'm bored and enjoying it!


For an assignment I've been looking at Maslow's heirarchy of needs. This is it if you are not familiar with it, and it's based on the assumption that we need the things at the bottom of the pyramid before we can have the things above it and so on.

It got me thinking particularly about the self-esteem element and what that actually relies on. I'd consider myself right now to have pretty high self-esteem, it's certainly higher than it's ever been before yet a lot of that is being driven by the uncertainty surrounding lots of the things lower down in the pyramid. For example, I've talked already about how my family and friends may or may not feature in my life in the future and yet I feel that part of my confidence and self-esteem comes from the knowledge that despite that, it will be OK and it's purely a means of opening new doors to new people and experiences. I think not having security can sometimes be really exciting and invigorating, and although security of body and health is something we do need, if other things change that should be a good thing and we should embrace it.

I also disagree with his order - do you need friendship, family and sexual intimacy before you can have confidence and self-esteem or does self-esteem bring those things? I actually think I feel more confident now that I've become strong enough to do things purely for my own benefit, rather than doing it for other people. Like my hair for example, I was growing it because I knew both my exes preferred me with longer hair, and now I've had it cut I feel good just knowing that I like it. I know that's a superficial example but I'm not seeking anyone else to tell me it does/does not look good, and I feel more confident for that which is surely a better state of self-esteem to one which balances on top of other people and relationships?

I also think being self-confident without needing other people will make me a better judge of partner in the future, rather than falling in with the safest guy which is exactly what my most recent ex was. So surely having self-esteem first will make for more successful and beneficial friendships and relationships, rather than it being the other way around? And to take it a bit further, if I had to live my life with just one or the other, I know what would make for happiness more than the other and I'm afraid my opinion there goes against Maslow.

Also, I do disagree with the inclusion of sex at the bottom of the pyramid... seeeeriously? Do I actually need sex? I don't even think that is true on a phsyiological level, I know we are basically designed for it, but it's at best a preferable thing, surely? Because if I do 'need' it then I have issues, not only because I'm not getting any, but also because I have absolutely no desire to change that right now which by Maslow's logic makes me some sort of freak. Though I have to admit, the novelty of being single is beginning to slightly wear off and I would appreciate a bit of intimacy right now (I know, I've been watching too much of the Royal Wedding coverage, I'm becoming a soppy romantic) but sex is never something I've put much focus on in terms of what I want or need in a relationship. Maybe that's because I don't know what I've been missing? Many of my girlfriends tell me this, but it just seems an irrelevant point in terms of whether I will be content in my life or not. But who knows, maybe I'll read this back one day and laugh, and maybe I'll look back and wonder how I ever considered myself a confident person without that experience behind me. Maybe Maslow knows more about good sex than I do...

A slightly depressing thought to end on there!

Friday, 29 April 2011

The Royal Wedding.

About two days ago, I don't think I could have cared less about the Royal Wedding and the incessant media coverage was beginning to get on my nerves; a view shared by many across the country. But today, I've become borderline obsessed with it and I've watched the coverage all day! It really has been a spectacular event.

Because I couldn't blog about the wedding without this iconic photo, could I?!

Isn't she gorgeous?! So effortless, a truly classy woman and well worthy of her new status.

People can say what they want about the monarchy and they can be as cynical about events like this as they feel necessary, but however you look at it, it has been a true fairytale - a commoner (albeit one from a well-off family, but it's all earnt, not inherited wealth) has married a prince and is going to live happily ever after. She looked absolutely stunning in both her dresses, the ceremony I thought was absolutely beautiful and all the readings and song choices were spectacular and poignant. The guests looked wonderful, the crowds and the atmosphere in London looked absolutely amazing and generally speaking, it was a great day to be British. We are an amazing nation, proud of our traditions whilst moving forwards with the world, and when we all come together to celebrate and show off our pomp and pageantry, we should all be very proud. I just wish I had been in London, and most of all, I wish I could marry a prince!

What an amazing day, and I don't think it's possible to underestimate how much it has lifted the mood of the nation today - if only for the extra day off and the second four-day weekend in a row - and long may it continue. The diamond jubilee celebrations next year will be equally wonderful I expect, and I can't wait to be there to enjoy it.

Well done, Britain, we did ourselves proud today!

The day in pictures:

Thursday, 28 April 2011

Chin up.

I have to keep telling myself to keep smiling, it's been one of those days when my mind is trying to drag me down. I'm trying not to let it but it's hard, it's like my brain is trying to force the negative on me.

So, brain, listen up.

  • I do not need a man, least of all him because he drives me mad after an hour.
  • But mostly, I do not have time or the energy for a man.
  • And anyway, I want to be on my own, it will be the making of me.
  • One day I will find someone who is right for me and who doesn't drive me mad.
  • It's not my problem, it's just me choosing the wrong guys.
  • It's ok to feel ill and want to go to bed. I'm not busy enough to need to 'cope'.
  • The summer will be exciting, not boring, despite not having that much money.
  • I will be a good teacher, despite what my last placement tutor told me.
  • I will make friends, I've never had problems with it before. People will like me...

Now, brain, shut up shut up shut up!

I realise this blog doesn't make interesting reading for anyone else, sorry, but I needed the outlet.

Wednesday, 27 April 2011

Bad habits.

I swear far too much. It's something I really need to sort out, it seems to flow so naturally now and it's so unladylike. On top of that, it'll get me into trouble one day because I'll end up saying it to the wrong person or to someone who is offended by it and I'll regret it. And my Nan is right: swearing is for people who aren't educated enough to find a better word, and I am educated but that doesn't come across when my main adjectives are "shit" and "bollocks".

Although it has been pointed out more than once that I do not come across in the way I should. Most people, after having spoken to me for the first time, don't believe that I'm intelligent because although I am academic, I have absolutely zero common sense, am clumsy and am slow to pick up on cues of sarcasm, irony etc. I also have a fairly poor general knowledge so crosswords and quizzes make me out to be a complete dunce. I suppose I've always been a bit obsessive with knowledge in that when I'm interested in something I have to know everything about it right there and then, but if it has never interested me then I won't know anything. I suppose there's nothing bad to be said about not having a head full of useless fluff, but it would be nice to be an asset on a quiz team rather than the one who makes up the numbers or who is sent to the bar mid-round.

I'm not sure how I go about rectifying that one though?

Anyway, my other issue is that I just cannot keep things tidy! No matter how hard I try, my room is always a mess, I always have piles of paperwork on my desk and piles of half-dealt-with post on the coffee table. This one I need to get sorted soon, otherwise I'll drive myself insane living in a pit on my own in the summer.

Again, I'm not sure how to sort that one out (excuse the pun), because I already really do try.

The final issue I think I need to sort out is being a bitch. We all do it, us girls, and generally girls who say they don't are liars as well as bitches. But it's not pleasant, has no real purpose and you never know who knows who and whilst it's never caught up with me yet, I fear one day it will. I think there's a lot to be said for the old adage "if you can't say anything nice then don't say anything at all" (thanks again, Nan) and I've decided to make a conscious effort to not be drawn into conversations like that or, worse, start or encourage them. Also, on a selfish note, I believe in karma, so being nice and positive about others will hopefully mean people see me in the same light.

Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.

It's the 'golden rule' for a reason :)

Tuesday, 26 April 2011


So I've applied for my tickets! I hope I get at least one of the ones I've applied for, going to the Olympics really is a once in a lifetime experience and as I will be a Londoner by then it will be great to embrace the games. It should be a great atmosphere, even if getting anywhere in London will be horrendous but around the events I'm seeing (hopefully) I can always nip back down to Plymouth to escape the insanity, gridlock and probable water shortages.

Not that going has anything to do with my desire to ogle the fit men. Male gymnasts and (some, not all) tennis players and their amazing arms... drool.

On that note, off to watch new Two Pints now. I'm sure it'll be rubbish, it hasn't been funny for years, but I just want to watch Will Mellor despite my slight disinterest now I've seen his grammar on twitter. I'm so middle-class sometimes I even shudder at myself...

No longer blog today, I have a load of negative stuff going round in my head and I think it's best left there. Night all.

Monday, 25 April 2011


Is it sad that I'm organising my life around the Masterchef finals this week? Ok, that wasn't a question because the answer is obvious, but still, the fact remains that I'm glad Glee is on +1 in a bit.

Telly is awesome. I love the crappy, trashy programmes best of all because I hate having to think when I watch a TV programme, and thrillers or dramas with tension and mystery make me feel really anxious to the point I can't sleep. Which is sad, I know at 22, that I'm scared of programmes like that, but I am.

The reason I watch Masterchef religiously amongst other cookery programmes (Saturday Kitchen is my favourite, I love James Martin and want him in my kitchen please) is because I secretly wish I could cook like that. I love cooking and by most people's standards I am a good cook, but I by no means cook to impress. I always go for the sort of homely food that reminds everyone of their Mums and Grandmas, which lets face it, is what we all want. But talk to me about presentation and I couldn't care less, it all goes down the same way, right?

Admittedly, I doubt I'll be picking up many tips from this episode (they are cooking kangaroo and crocodile), but I still love aspiring to that type of cooking. Cooking for anyone other than close friends and family fills me with dread as it is, even for my friends I panic and fret my way through any entertaining, and so any tips and inspiration are much welcomed. My best mate always puts on an amazing spread when she cooks for us, always making something new and interesting and whilst it's great to pick up recipes from her, sometimes I want to be the one setting the standards, not trailing on behind.

I look on at food blogs with the same envy. Maybe one day I will be one of them, maybe even just dropping a recipe once a week (a Munchie Monday or a Tasty Tuesday perhaps?) but until then I shall keep practising and gathering as much knowledge and inspiration as possible.

I do have an idea in mind for my first self-written recipe, inspired by a flan I had in a cafe last month. Maybe that can debut my food blogging next week, or perhaps play around with some cupcakes to take to seminars.

The ideas seem to be rubbing off...

This might be slightly ambitious but I fancy upping the creative game...

Sunday, 24 April 2011


In most families, Easter Sunday, regardless of your religion, is a great excuse to get together with the family and even more so on a day like today when you can all gather outside around a barbeque. Yet in my family what happens? My Mum goes out with her boyfriend who refuses to come to our house now I live here (a long story which I shall save for another day), my brother went back to uni and my grandparents went up to visit my Dad for the weekend and meet my brother for a meal without thinking to invite me.

So I've had the day to myself, which is kind of nice because my Mum has otherwise been getting under my feet and I'm still tired with possible remnants of a hangover from Friday night. However, it still sucks that everyone else has nice family set ups whilst mine becomes increasingly dysfunctional and Jeremy Kyle-esque with each passing holiday. I know that's a bit of a sweeping statement and we all have different families, and I guess mine are OK in the grand scheme of things, I just don't quite fit in.

I do have to wonder if this will get better or worse when I move out in the summer. I mean, when my brother is at Uni he sees more of my Nan and Dad than he did before, and my Grandma and Grandad have been to stay with my Dad to see Brother twice in 9 months, which is more than I ever remember them going before. And whilst that's great, I suppose he has moved to a much more convenient location within an hour of my Dad and Nan and that won't be the case for me. But instead of being a long way away like down here where my Dad combines visits to me with visiting my grandparents, and my Nan coming to see my Mum and Uncle etc, I'll be out of the way in south east London. I get a horrible feeling that no-one will ever come to see me, and that, like this weekend, I won't even be invited to things I could have gone to. I never though that would be the case with my Grandma and Grandad in particular, my Grandma bless her soul worships the ground I walk on, but I just can't see them making the journey.

I suppose by leaving home that's one of the many things that changes. And of course I don't mind being the one to make the effort most of the time, but I would like my family to make at least some effort with me? I doubt my Mum will even come and visit, she barely bothered when I lived 6 miles away never mind 200, and I doubt my Dad will bother. I really hope they surprise me but it's not looking likely and without a car and very little time in my NQT year it will be hard for me to get to them all the time if they never come to me. It'll be the same with my friends I expect, and it'll be a shame to leave that part of my life behind but it doesn't work like that with family. I hope they come through for me.

Not that I'll let this dampen my excitement, I've spent all day (again!) trawling through catalogues, magazines and websites for pretty things for my flat and deciding where I'm going to go explore when I have the summer to spare in London... it's becoming my go-to activity to cheer myself up when I feel a bit shit. Now I'm going to hit the bath, chill out then hop into my freshly-changed bed, a nice end to a nice-enough day.

Hope you've all had a great bank holiday!

Saturday, 23 April 2011

Note to self.

We all give things up in our lives that we know we should, then we forget why and do it/have it again, then a few weeks later end up giving it up again. I suppose it's human nature, you tend to forget the bad things and only the good memories remain.

But for future reference: alcohol is not something that ever has any good consequences.

Hangovers are a horrendous feeling (mainly due to it being completely self-induced).

Being sick in a club is worse than being hungover.

And I gave it up for a reason.

I think my relationship with alcohol has gotten worse since I had my drink spiked last summer. Now before you think "oh yeah right, she just got really drunk" as many do, I had only had two drinks so could not have been that drunk, I literally could not get out of bed the next day and was still unable to eat for three days. It was almost like my body was scared that whatever I ate was going to be as bad as whatever was put in my drink so refused to keep anything down, just to be sure. I still have this issue with alcohol nearly a year later, it gets to a certain point, my body decides it's had enough and I end up being sick. I used to be able to drink so much more and I could do the typical binge-drinker thing of 'drinking to get drunk' but now I start to feel borderline tipsy-drunk and my body doesn't want to know. And it seems I had completely forgotten this last night when I decided that I did indeed want to drink.

So, note to self: next time you think you want to go out and get drunk, you do not. You can't get drunk anyway, you end up being ill and as a result end up even more hungover in the morning. Just have a few or be the designated driver instead, it's much more fun. Last night was not fun, neither is today.

Although as stupid as I feel for last night, really I've come off lightly in the morning-after-the-night-before-shame-spiral. At least I haven't coupled my hangover with having to ring my boyfriend and tell him I spent the whole night kissing another guy and then add heartache to my list of ailments. Stupid girl, we did tell her at the time to stop it, she wasn't having any of it.

Alcohol really is disgusting.

Why this picture and not a related one? Well 1) Even looking at bottles of alcohol makes me feel sick and 2) It's so cute, do I even need a reason?
Enjoy the Easter Weekend everyone :)

Friday, 22 April 2011

Rocking the single boat.

I'm finally going out! It's been far too long, my life has been far too busy with boring university work and all-work-and-no-play has started to turn me insane. I've started over-thinking again, going over and over the past and finding regret in things that I shouldn't regret. That's always how my cabin-fever starts, along with struggling to sleep which I did  last night, so I'm more excited than normal about getting out of the house tonight. Fake tan done, hair washed, dress and shoes chosen, make-up lined out ready to apply, lots of alcohol ready and waiting (yeah yeah, I know lent isn't over quite yet but I've done well and achieved everything I wanted to from cutting it out) and all the girls are set to hit the town. It's not very often we all go out together so it's great when we are all there.

I've not really been out since I've been single, even when I have it's only been for a few drinks and that's not quite the same. Going out when you're single is so much more fun. I can talk who I want, dance with who I want and I won't be worrying that someone will see me talking to a guy shockhorror  and dob me in. I've already concluded through writing this blog that I have a tendancy to attract the insanely jealous guys anyway which I guess hasn't helped my case, but still, it'll be nice to be without that fuss tonight.

My only concern is that I do tend to turn into a bit of a slut when I'm drunk and single. Don't get me wrong, I don't go round sleeping with guys but I do tend to find a guy, spend all night letting them buy me drinks, dancing and eating their face before trotting off and moving onto the next one. I'm not proud of it though, I know women suffer at the hands of a double-standard whereby a guy would be a hero for doing the same thing, but as such I feel shame and guilt when I pick up randomers. Poor guys, so if you're local and reading this, stay in tonight, yeah?

Hope you all have a good night!

Thursday, 21 April 2011


"Learn from the mistakes of others. You can't live long enough to make them all yourself." Anon.

Mistakes other people make that I've learnt from:
    Shame pic courtesy of flickr (it's hyperlinked)

  • Don't get stuck in a dead-end job and whinge about how dead-end it is. You're stuck in it because you can't be bothered to aspire to anything else. I thank my Mum for this one. 
  • Wait for your knight in shining armour, never settle for the guy in a tin foil hat. My Mum, again. 
  • Always read the bottle. My ex boyfriend learnt that... aftersun with 'tan enhancer' = orange fake tan. 
  • Always double check you have your keys before making a long journey home. Insert multiple references here. 
  • Don't spend money you don't have in the knowledge that 'oh it'll be paid off on pay day'. 
  • Always have insurance. This and the previous point are courtesy of my customers at work. 
  • Never refrain from breaking bad news to someone thinking that it will keep them from getting hurt. It won't, it will be worse in the end. I owe a friend this one. 
  • Don't assume you have all the time in the world. If you want to do it today, then do it. Life is sometimes brutally and unexpectedly short. A school peer taught me this. Rest in peace dickhead. 
  • Watch what you say, what you think is acceptable might be offensive to someone else. This is from a career-ending mistake a friend made. 
  • And watch what you say on facebook. This one gets a lot of people in trouble.
  • Always back up your dissertation. Poor Tom...

Thank you family and friends, I make enough of my own mistakes and without you all advising me based on your own errors I would make a lot more. I shudder to think the embarrassment you have saved me, you poor naive and daft lot. Love you all!

Does anyone else have any mistakes other people made that you in turn have learnt from?

    Wednesday, 20 April 2011

    Ahh, sunshine, you are bliss.

    I absolutely adore the sun, it's the one thing that can always guarantee a happy mood and that it will make everything look positively beautiful. I've been sat out nearly all day so far and it just makes you feel so much better in your own skin for having had a bit of sun on it! This lovely little heatwave is the perfect pick-me-up for this time of year, it's been a beautiful Easter holiday so far. Yesterday was such a nice day in particular: spent all day in the library working on my dissertation, then went and had my hair cut, then home for a barbeque with the grandparents and finally out with my girlies to the pub. I also firmly closed a door in my life and feel a million times better for it. Men, you are well and truly out of my life.

    And why am I enjoying the sun as opposed to being in the library again with everyone else? Because I've fricking well done it! Just needs a read through and my reference list needs to be compiled and alphabetised, only bloody 3 weeks early... Proud or what :D Yesterday really was an amazing day, though when I got up I decided I was going to finish it and it was just the mind-set I needed.

    Even my hair-cut went well despite my fear. I had a 'lob', which is basically a long bob and it looks really nice. Not sure it's helped me look any older, if anything probably done the opposite, but it's nice and manageable and much thinner now which is what I wanted. I was feeling much less nervous when I sat in the chair and I don't think I flinched or worried even once! Mostly because the two apprentices at the salon asked to watch as it was such a restyle from what I had before, so the hairdresser was talking them through it meaning I knew exactly what was going on behind me. So yeah, I didn't behave like a child and actually sat in the chair and sustained a normal conversation without freaking out. Another proud moment.

    Anyway, I'm off outside to sit in the sun bliss again.

    Why I love the sunshine
    1) The smell of suncream is lovely
    2) It reminds me of being 16 and skiving off GCSE revision to go to the beach every day
    3) It's a valid excuse for laying around all day and not being productive
    4) I love that sun-kissed look, it makes me feel more healthy
    5) Topless men *drools*
    6) Ice creams!
    7) Driving around with the window open is such a nice feeling
    8) Plymouth actually looks nice and not like a depressing shithole
    9) Summer dresses, bikinis and flip-flops.
    10) It means there's actually something to do and somewhere to go in this dump
    11) No frizzy hair worries
    12) Cider, particularly brother's strawberry cider.
    13) The 3 B's: Barbeques,
    14) Beaches and
    15) Beer gardens!
    16) Getting just that bit too close to being sunburnt (don't ask me why I like being that bit too red...)
    17) Not having to wear a coat, even in the evenings.
    18) Related to the last one, going out wearing a dress for a night out and not freezing to death.
    19) Being bored of writing this because I want to get back outside... adios!

    (Oh, and the best thing about sunshine at this time of year? No hayfever yet, woop!)

    Monday, 18 April 2011

    I want to have my hair cut.

    I'm so fed up of being skint! I haven't had my hair cut since before Christmas and it's starting to get long and unmanageable. I want my inverted bob back...

    This was the picture I took to my hairdresser last time and it really suited me (and yes, I watch 90210 despite being about 6 years too old!). I only ended up letting it grow out because, again, I couldn't afford to have it cut every 8 weeks to maintain it. I suppose now my degree is ending and I'll be earning that it shouldn't be a problem anymore, so I might go this week. Money or no money, my overdraft will forgive me, hehe.

    The other slight issue is that I'm scared of hairdressers, they have too much power, I have no control and I had an awful one when I was growing up who always ruined my hair and made me look dreadful. I've been going to my hairdresser for the last five years and now she's gone on maternity leave I have to brave another one for the first time since. I'm slightly apprehensive to say the least, which yes is ridiculous and childish but if they ruin my hair I'll be stuck looking ridiculous for months while it grows out. This would normally be mortifying enough, but given how many new people I'll be meeting in the next few months and how important first impressions are... not that it matters, I won't make much of an impression looking like this either! I'm just making excuses really, I do need my hair cut and at 22 I need to get over my fear.

    And whilst I could just keep on growing my hair and grow out the stupid front bits that drive me insaaaane, I also feel the need to find something that makes me look a bit older, I still look really young. For example, last week I was asked by the butcher if I had much homework for the holidays when I went to pick up my Mum's meat order and the week before I was asked for ID to go into a 15 cert film. Now I knew I didn't look my age, but to look 14? That's 8 years younger, and whilst I won't be complaining when I'm 40, right now it's not good! I have parents and colleagues to meet soon and I don't want that to be the way I'm judged, as a little kid who doesn't know anything. I just don't know how to make myself look older? I think not looking like a scruff will probably be a start, so seriously, get to the hairdressers tomorrow...

    Sunday, 17 April 2011

    I knew this would be my year.

    I've only been 22 for a month, and after the rubbish years I've had recently I decided on my 22nd that this would be my year and that I'd do anything I had to to make it amazing.

    At 7pm on my birthday, I had a phone-call from my school offering me an interview and within five days I had the job. That was the start of my year and so far, although it's only been a month, it's been a good one. I have something to be excited about again, I have aims and dreams for the first time in years and I can see the next few months of my life folding out before my eyes in exactly the way I always dreamed it would - this year I will be a teacher, I will be finally moving out, I will be living in London, I don't have the hassle of men and my life is truly mine for the first time. I knew this year would be good, but I didn't expect it all so soon!

    I know that having a job secured for September probably has a lot to do with how I'm feeling right now, but my whole attitude to life changed when I decided to change it on my birthday. I've always been living life passively, believing that life is something that happens to you, that you need luck and fate on your side to get by and that all it took was patience but that's so not true. Life is something that you have to create for yourself, opportunities don't fall on your lap and good things don't happen unless you initiate them and let them happen. I've stopped believing in fate, I believe in grabbing hold of your life and steering it yourself and I think that's why I feel so much more positive now. If only because I'm a control-freak and I now feel like I'm in control of my own life or because I'm about to graduate and have freedom and choice in my sight, either way I'm feeling happier and the future suddenly seems much more bright.

    So bring on my year, bring on the next six months in particular and bring on a new wealth of opportunities! In case you couldn't tell, my mood has picked right up from the end of last week...

    On a slightly related note, I need to start pushing my way through my list of new years resolutions from January. Lots of new things I want to do this year, need to get a move on with doing some of these things!

    Saturday, 16 April 2011

    I got carried away with doodling.

    So I thought I'd share my strange masterpiece with you. It started from the piece of paper that's been lying on my desk for weeks (if not months) which has become something of a clutter-magnet and a dumping ground for post-it-notes which have fallen off my board.

    Dear Grampy.

    When you died, I was 14 and I thought I knew you. But when the vicar said all those things about you at your funeral, I began to realise I didn't. Now I hear even more stories about you and I wish I'd gotten to know you properly - you sound like an absolute legend!

    I remember you as a Grampy; I remember you taking me to your allotment in your wheelbarrow; I remember going to visit you in your signal box and watching the trains with our little packed lunches. I also remember you being ill, but I only saw you once at your worst and I choose to forget that. I realise now, even more than I did at the time, that being stuck in bed was even less like you!

    I didn't know that after your triple by-pass that you did loads of clinical trials for the British Heart Foundation to try and help find better treatments. You put other people above your own health and that's an amazing thing. I still only ever donate clothes and stuff to the BHF because of you. And I know you were always there for other people, even if it caused trouble, you looked after your own and I hope you never regretted some of the decisions you made for that reason.

    I knew you liked a drink, it was always a bit of a laughing point in our family when you went up the Western for a pint and came back down 5 hours later singing at the top of your voice. But I've heard more about you now, and you sound like you were the life and soul of the party. I expect the day you stopped going up there was the first of a lot more quiet nights in the bar. I would have liked to have had a drink with you; you'd like our family Christmas reunions we have now when we all get together and drink, eat and play games. I think we all know it would be just that bit more fun if you were there.

    I didn't know you were a bit wild in your youth, and I can't imagine you being the sort of person my Nan's parents didn't want to marry their daughter, but you were! You were a bit of a rascal by all accounts, yet you still managed to raise an amazing family and live a great life. I think you are an inspiration because you never took life too seriously, you went out and had fun whenever you could and it seems you had that perfect work-life balance. You were never bored, never had nothing to do and never wasted a single minute of your life. Some may frown on the things you did at the time, but looking back, I think you had a point. Life is too short, you could have died at 59 and never quite made it to 70. By that reckoning, I'm nearly a third of my way through my life and I sometimes forget that you need to let your hair down to keep sane. I'm going to make sure I do that. Maybe not to the extent you did, but in my own little way. You'd be upset at how highly strung some of our family have become, it's no way to live life and I agree. I don't want to end up like that, I know I already am sometimes, but I'm trying to lighten up and make the most of life. I hope you'd be proud of me :)

    Friday, 15 April 2011

    Men are pigs.

    I just went to buy a pot of cream to have with our pudding. Two builders were stood outside and one actually just said to me, "I'm surprised a girl like you needs to pay to get cream". Giggle giggle, guffaw etc.

    FUCK OFF YOU DISGUSTING PERVERTED PIGS. Why do men talk to me like this?! What makes them think they can treat women like this? Vile little pervert. I should have smacked him, I sometimes wish I was the type of person to do that rather than the "hold my head up high" type. I don't care if my way is more dignified, some guys need to be taught that isn't acceptable and I get the feeling a strong telling off wouldn't have helped matters.

    That's all I have to say today, I'm still in the same bad mood I was yesterday so will shortly go to bed and stay there for the evening.

    Thursday, 14 April 2011

    I have definitely grown out of living at home.

    I think my last post explains the issues I have with my Mother, and although her being off work has definitely made it worse, we don't get on very well at the best of time. But now my brother is home for the holiday I'm finding the house even more claustrophobic. He's turned into a pretentious little shit since he's been at university, he comes home and makes out like he's better than us and that his lifestyle is better than ours and it makes me feel so self conscious. He thinks he's better than me because he does "a real degree", because I just go and pretend, obviously, and because he is more educated than us. He doesn't actually know anything outside of his field of interest, he knows nothing about the real world. My Mum is as much to blame for that as his cockiness.

    I have definitely grown out of living at home. I don't suppose it's that surprising, I'm 22 and after having lived on my own for over a year last year before splitting with my ex I think I've done well to last nearly a year before it has become almost unbearable. I don't think my current financial situation has helped either, I can't afford to go out so I'm stuck in the house most of the time so don't even have the temporary relief of a social life.

    I'm actually going to nip upstairs now before my Mum gets off the phone and whinges at what I'm watching on  telly. I know what I watch is a load of rubbish but it's why I like it - I don't want to have to think too much when I watch telly, I like the mind-numbing nature of it. If I wanted to think I'd do a sudoku, read or do some knitting. It doesn't make me a bad person for wanting to watch television.

    At least I have my room as a little sanctuary, though it's not quite the same. I just hate having to justify everything I do/don't do, every little thing I want to watch on TV, any music I want to listen to, how long and when I take a bath, what I wear, what I read, where I go, who I'm with... I have nothing which is my own and no time which is mine to do with what I like. I feel so trapped and suffocated here, I need to get out. It makes me feel better about the move in July though, I'll be financially pushed to afford the move at the start of the summer, but if this isn't reason to be skint & free versus slightly-less-skint & trapped then I don't know what is. I'd be happy with no furniture or money, but just to have my own space. My priorities are fast changing - get out of here as soon as possible! Never mind where, never mind with what money/furniture, just get out.

    Moving out will definitely be the invigorating experience I know it could be, even if it does just mean I can snuggle into the sofa with my duvet and watch Eastenders in peace. Can't fricking wait :)

    I am so fricking angry today.

    I would quite happily scream at someone right now, and lets be honest, it'll probably be you, Mother.

    Why have you pissed me off? Because you've been in the house all week off work with your bad back and I do have to wonder if you're playing it up a bit. For example, you could get down on your hands and knees to reach the tea bags from the back of the cupboard, but dragged me from the bathroom to put them back for you. You are also winding me up by being here all the time - everyone knows that daytime telly is rubbish, but I watch it every day because I like the background noise and I do not want you sat bitching about it and turning it off when your codeine will have you asleep in five minutes. Also, when I give you a lift to your physio appointment, some gratitude would be nice. What I do not want, is you complaining about the radio station I had on (and quietly at that) in the car, and you trying to direct me to somewhere I've been hundreds of times. When you directed me last time, you made me take an illegal right turn across a main road and my way was therefore better. So no, that was the correct turning because it's the last chance to turn right, and yes, funnily enough that IS the shop where we came out last time, but thanks for the confirmation. Now shut your face.

    And also, don't you dare ask me to drive up in my car to help you move my brother back home from university in June. Yes I may be cheaper than a van, but YOU have refused to help ME move in July and I cannot afford the petrol or the time. I am expected to fund, out of my own pocket, van rental or multiple journeys up the M4, but my brother isn't? Exactly the type of favouritism that I moan about all the time. And for you to then make me feel guilty and useless about wanting to ask my Dad or Grandad to help me, seeing as you won't, is not on. So again, shut your face.

    And, Mum, while we're on the subject of favouritism. No, I have not missed my brother enough that I have missed his inability to put dishes in the dishwasher, put empty pots/bags in the bin or tidy his shoes away. When I leave a pair of shoes out, I get told off, so no it is not "bless him" when he leaves them out, and even less "bless him" when I fall over them on my way to the lightswitch. So yes, I do have reason to be pissed off with him, and if it had been you with your "bad back", you'd be crippled so stop setting double standards and shut your face.


    I was determined this blog wouldn't be a bitching rant, but I needed to vent before I scream. I think I'm definitely ready to leave home now... only 79 days to go.

    Deep breaths now.

    Wednesday, 13 April 2011

    Why I became a teacher.

    I just read a blog post from a fellow trainee teacher which inspired me to write about my own motivations for going into teaching. Thanks for the inspiration (have a look here)

    When I was 8 years old, our family moved 200 miles and I had to start at a new school. I moved into a school which was nearly 5 times bigger than my old one and was plonked into a new class bigger than my old one. I was assigned some 'friends' who would show me around, be nice to me etc by my class teacher, Mrs Bullock.

    She was horrible. Two out of the three girls she put me with were nasty bullies.

    And needless to say, I had a very unhappy year. My teacher assumed we were all just typically bickering little girls, rather than dealing with the issue and she saw me as the problem because I was the last one into the little friendship group. I remember crying myself to sleep most nights and day dreaming about moving back to my old school where I was happy. In order to deal with me, all 90 children in the year group were mixed up when we moved onto year 5, so that I wouldn't bother those children again.

    An extract from the school report she wrote about me. I still can't read it without feeling awful.
    After half a term in year 5, the bullying was still going on in the playground. But this time I had a lovely teacher whom I adored and for the first time since moving, she realised what was really going on. I still remember vividly the day she marched me down the corridor to the other year 5 class, pulled the two bullies out and shouted at them. I stood behind her and cried, but cried with happiness that it was finally over, and I loved my teacher ever more for that. The rest of the year was lovely, I made new friends and made much better progress. I still believe to this day that everything I am as a person is because of her.

    Much better :)
    The next year I remember sitting in an assembly with my new year 6 class. The theme for the assembly was 'Special Things' and it was my old year 5 teacher who stood up to speak. She held up a little green fish - the little green fish that I had bought for her when I went on holiday to Cyprus - and told everyone how special and loved it made her feel when she had been given the present.

    I sat there right then and decided that I wanted to be a teacher because if I could be even half the amazing teacher that she was and could make a child any where near as happy as she had made me, then what better way could there be to spend the rest of my life? That desire never left me.

    So throughout my secondary schooling, I did work experience in schools whenever I had the chance. When I was at sixth form, I volunteered in my old school one day a week, and after my exams finished I did another full week.

    I turned up on the Monday morning of that week, rubbed my hands together and asked "So, what's happening this morning?". The teacher I was working with then told me that over the weekend, a girl in the year above her class had died and that the headteacher was holding an assembly first thing this morning to tell the school.

    This assembly was, without a doubt, the worse experience of my life. As we walked in, the class the girl was in were already sat at the front crying. The school filed in and the news was broken. Many of the other year 5 children cried, some from other years who knew her did too. And then, and I don't think with hindsight this was his best idea, the headteacher started to talk a bit about grief. He began by saying, "now, it's natural when we lose someone we love to miss them very much. Some of you may have already experienced this, you may have lost a granny or a grandad, maybe even a dog or your favourite hamster..." and suddenly, every child in the room which was already tense with emotion, was thinking of someone they had lost. And everyone cried, all 450 children, all the teachers, teaching assistants... everyone. It was horrible. 

    We went back to the classroom and the children finished off some art work. At break time we sent them all out as usual, but three children from the bereft year 5 class came to speak to myself and the teaching assistant to ask if they could go into the stock cupboard and get some paper and card to make a 'memory book' for the girls family. They all had so many ideas and were so positive about remembering the good things about her rather than the tragedy, and I sat with them for the rest of the day printing photos, sticking in things other children wrote, helping them with drawings and putting the book together. Their attitude was truly inspiring, they were so positive and uplifting whilst the grown ups were sat in the staff room crying over sweet tea. I really felt then that not only do I have so much to give to children, but they have so much to give to me! Children kick grown ups asses so so often, if we can be a bit more like then life would be so so much better.

    That day I went home and filled in my university application.

    And here I am, four years later, with my own class waiting for me in September. Is it any wonder I can't wait? :)

    Tuesday, 12 April 2011


    Since age 15, I've always had a boyfriend. Maybe with a two-week break between at most - I realise that makes me sound worse than I actually am, there have only been 3 in that time - but that's not the point. Now I'm back on the market, I really am loving rocking the single boat! It's been about six weeks now and the novelty still isn't wearing off as my long-term single girlfriends told me it would. There's no guy in the background (other than my still-too-keen ex, but he's slowly backing off) and the focus is just on me. It may sound selfish, but after so long, I like it.

    I think, above all, I love not having anyone else to think about. I can do what I want and see who I want, and my friends and family are the top of my priority list. I'm not one of those girls that shuns her friends in favour of her man anyway, but obviously it did affect how much I could see them and go out with them. Going out has always been a particular point of contention for boyfriends of mine - I don't think they understand that when girls go out together we really do just want a drink and a dance, not to find a replacement for them! I do get a lot of attention when I go out, which doesn't help, but guys I date only ever seem to remember that and not the way I tell these guys to sod off! Consequently, this breeds paranoia, so I either end up not going, going and having to send regular texts or going with boyfriend in tow. I'm so glad to be free of that. I love my girlies and I love going out for a dance! If a nice guy is talking to me, I can enjoy the conversation without feeling guilty, and I can occasionally score a free drink. It's nice and I'm meeting some fun and interesting people this way.

    I love having time for myself too. Before, I'd never be allowed time to myself without a guy obsessing that it meant I was going off them/seeing someone else. I love being able to take a long bath, having time to do face masks, manicure my nails and fake tan; go shopping or to the gym/swim/sauna... It's making me feel better about myself, and I know you could turn round and say that we shouldn't let things slip when you're dating someone, but finding the time to keep the same routine is impossible! So it's nice to have me-time back, three-hour gym sessions, oh how I've missed you.

    (Though that's not a great example, I've been three times in six weeks for a long session...)

    And I know every single girl says this after a string of/a serious relationship, but I really am well and truly off men. I don't miss their company, I don't miss the cuddles and kisses, I don't miss the affection, the sex... I just do not miss anything about being in a relationship right now! I'm sure when the right guy comes along that I'll change my mind, but right now I'm happy being absorbed in cynicism about men/relationships/love and I can't even contemplate having to share my life with a guy again. And I'm glad, I'm at a time in my life when everything around me is moving so quickly and I'm glad that I can keep up, grab hold of my career with two hands and go with the flow. I don't see men having place in my life for the foreseeable future... especially when I have my 'bacheloress' pad in London!

    So bring on the years of being a crazy cat lady, a spinster, a whatever-else-people-will-call-me. I'm 22, my life is mine and I'm enjoying the selfishness of it all right now.

    PS. In writing this, I am beginning to realise that perhaps my last lot of boyfriends have been particularly paranoid? Is it just my bad luck or is it typical? Honest opinions please!

    Monday, 11 April 2011

    The need to be witty.

    Over the weekend, I joined a blogging forum, 20sb. This now means I have one whole follower and had more views in the last few hours than I have done since I migrated my blog! I now feel the pressure to post witty, interesting posts as opposed to the usual grumbles and observations. Now, wit is not my strong point. I do consider myself to be quite funny to chat to but I usually resort to sarcasm which, as my Mother tells me at least twice a week is, "the lowest form of wit". And as for my work? I work with 5 year olds, so any wit only extends to my performance with hand puppets! So maybe wit isn't my strong point, maybe I should just continue how I have been and see how my writing style pans out. This is, afterall, the first time I've written for an audience; I'm sure my writing will fill a genre at some point.

    Anyway, the one thing which has been bugging me since I wrote my last post is the notion of friendship. Friends are funny little beans, and I find they always surprise you. The ones you think will be there for ever rarely are, and those you consider casual aquaintainces often become some of the best.

    My best friend is someone I've known since my first day at my new primary school and despite boyfriends, having different friends, going to different schools and living in different cities, we've always been friends. We don't need to see each other very often, or even speak on the phone or via text, but whenever we're together it's like we live next door. I love her to bits and she is the one friend I can rely on (as long as I'm a bridesmaid next year, otherwise she's off the Christmas card list, hehe). This blog isn't about her though, she will be there; she will always be there and I know that. She's the exception that proves the rule.

    My friends I have left from school are a varied bunch, and I was glad when they graduated a year ahead of me that they all came back and we carried on as if we were still at sixth form! However, after this weekend I'm feeling less sure of them, and even one of them with whom I think I am closest, I doubt I'll see again once I move. They are all moving in together in September, which is great for them, but I suspect I'll be an outsider within weeks and forgotten by the New Year. I love them now, but how long they will remain in my life I have to wonder.

    As for my uni friends, who knows. One of them is a dear friend, but again, once I move, how much we will see one another I have to debate. Another, even though she is moving to London too, again I fear will filter out of my life. It's sad - I've spent every day with these girls, stressed about placements, cried over dissertations and been to so many student nights in Oceana I couldn't even count, but will it stand the test of time and distance?

    Now I know that they aren't the only friends I'll ever make, as they fall out of my life new ones will fall in when I move and that's really exciting too. But I just have this horrible feeling that I'll be everyone's best friend when they want to come to London to shop or see a West End show, but that they will be more excited about where they are going rather than who they are going to stay with! They mean a lot to me, and I hope that the effort will be equal between us; me going to see them as much as they come to see me; them ringing me as much as I ring them and us always being interested in each others lives. I don't want to lose any of them, they're all wonderful in their own little way and we have some amazing fun together, and then there are those I know I can turn to when I need a cheer-up hug - I have a lovely balance right now and I'll miss that if I lose it.

    Girls, please don't give me a reason to miss you.

    For lent I gave up alcohol.

    I gave up drinking after a night out, stating "I'll never drink again" as we all do when festering in a hangover. And whilst it wasn't this one night alone that put me off drinking (although it did involve a lot of cringe-worthy conversations, being followed by some strange and scary men before throwing up and waking up the next morning in my ex's bed), it definitely played a part and that evening, I got to thinking.

    Firstly, I pride myself on being a confident person, I haven't always been but right now I think I am - yet why do I need to have had a few drinks to take to the dance floor and to talk to random people? Why do I always rely on alcohol to give me the strength to do that? This was strike one, as this epitomises everything I don't want to become - I want to be in control, be logical and stop making the stupid decisions that have driven my life so far, and lets face it, alcohol was never going to help this.

    Secondly, having been out far too much in the month preceding that night (in aid of 'rocking the single boat', as my friend put it) I realised how much it was not only dictating my actions during those nights, but it was dictating my social life. If we weren't going out drinking, we weren't going out. If we weren't meeting to drink, we weren't seeing one another. And I decided that was really sad, so I decided to take alcohol out of the equation all together. Since that evening, with the exception of a glass of champagne on my birthday, I've not touched alcohol.

    So do I feel better for it? Absolutely! My skin is clearer, my bank balance is clearer (or would be if I weren't simply buying more things with that money), I've reached a steady weight again: all the signs are good. Has my social life improved or diversified? No. It turns out that drinking really did influence my social life, and this was evermore highlighted by the reaction of my friends.

    This Saturday for example, I had an invite to a night out. I said yes but said I wouldn't be drinking so would give everyone a lift to save money (figuring no-one would try to persuade me to drink if they knew it meant no lift home!) and I was told they would text me if the night out was going ahead. I had no such text, so instead settled down in bed with a cup of tea and a few DVD boxsets. I fell asleep half way through a DVD and was woken up at about 4am when it finished with my laptop still glaring at me. In true facebook-adict style, I quickly refreshed the screen only to find a load of pictures uploaded by one of my friends of their night out.

    Bitches. Maybe I should have text them to confirm, but they did say they would let me know and then obviously chose not to, or worse, forgot about me completely. So yeah, bitches.

    So do I ever intend to start drinking again? No way, it's been such a revealing few weeks - although my social life has definitely declined, those friends I have left are the ones I can actually get along with whilst sober, and surely that's what you want/need from a friend? I can still go out and have a good time, but have more money, look better, feel better and don't have to write off the-day-after-the-night-before to a hangover.

    It is a shame though, I didn't think my friends were like that...

    Sunday, 10 April 2011


    This weekend (and in fact, from Thursday of last week on wards) I have done absolutely nothing of worth; I've sat and chilled out, listened to some new music, browsed the internet, cooked and baked, cleaned and then gone back to chilling out - and do I feel guilty? Not in the slightest!

    You see, usually I choose to live my life at 100mph - if I have two hours spare in my day then I'll fill it with going to the gym, baking, cleaning, sorting, planning... anything at all to avoid having the dreaded 'nothing', and am completely incapable of relaxing for more than an hour at a time. It was something I was starting to worry about with the impending move, given that for the summer I will be skint and predominantly friendless, but actually, I think I just need to accept that sometimes having nothing to do is as valuable as having lots to do. I'm relaxed, I'm refreshed, I have the beginnings of a normal sleep pattern and I'm beginning to feel slightly less overwhelemed by the things in my life right now. And it's a lovely feeling, although I do love being busy, this is almost as nice too.

    Though I suppose I am still slightly more occupied than usual, seeing as my Mum woke up yesterday pretty much paralysed from back pain which means I've taken over full reign of the house and the associated chores. It's a good job I like cleaning!

    Now to get back to sitting in gorgeous sunshine of the garden... oh wait, I never left it! God bless wireless internet and my dinky netbook :)su

    Saturday, 9 April 2011

    New beginnings.

    I keep thinking over how different my life will be this summer when I move to London. Whilst I currently live in a city, I live in a very small one at that, the pace of life is spectacularly different and the more I am realising the expectations are different.

    Don't get me wrong, on gorgeous sunny days like today, Plymouth is the place to be.

    Plymouth Hoe
    But for the other 360 days of the year, it returns to it's usual guise of grey apathy and indifference. People here are generally happy with their lot in life, never aspiring to anything more and even if they do, they don't have the opportunities to progress so end up settling down quietly. It's something I've always known about Plymouth, and it's only been recently that I've been able to put my finger on what it is that makes me start crawling up the walls and browsing for cheap train tickets to London. And whilst that is obviously fine for some (and who I am to judge how others choose to live their life), it's not something I ever want to resign myself to. Hence why, on the 2nd of July this year (it's not a set date yet in anyway other than in my head), I'm moving to London.

    Having been to London a few times recently for interviews and to visit friends or hit the shops, I'm now realising just how different things are:

    The pace of life - whilst some people hate how fast paced and anxious London seems, I love it. People rush because they have somewhere to go, something better to be doing, someone they are desperate to see and it is that which epitomises my love for the city. Down here, if you saw a bus just closing the doors but there was another one in two minutes, no-one would even break out into a jog. Life is precious people, we should be fighting to enjoy and make the best of every second, and I wish people would realise that

    The advert my friends talked about
    (from the H&M website, I have no
    rights to this image).
    The style - In Plymouth, you are either a 'chav', an 'emo', a 'student' or a grown up. Which ever group you are in dictates the fashion you wear and the places you hang out. Everyone looks the same, no-one dares break the mould and when you do, you're mocked even for donning a bright lipstick. People look at fashion models and the people on the H&M adverts and question "who would wear that?" and state "well you can't wear that every day" or "no-one can work in heels like that". Yet in London, people wear what they want. There are no groups or cliques of fashion and trends, you can never feel too over-dressed or like you've made too much effort. And whilst this is a rather superficial observation, in some ways it isn't. In London, you fit in because you are one in 6 million, not because of the clothes you wear. And whilst it undoubtedly means I will spend my entire disposable income on clothes and shoes in my first few months, I hope it is as invigorating as it seems.

    The things to do - In Plymouth, if it's raining, you either go: bowling, swimming, to the cinema, shopping or ice skating. If it's sunny, you go to: the Hoe, the Barbican or the beach. That is literally it. You struggle to think of new things to do after only a month-or-so simply because there is nothing new to think of, nothing new to do. When I move to London, I'm going to make a pact with myself - I will not go to the same place twice in my first year. Because I can, because I want to experience new things, meet new people, eat new foods and find new things that I didn't even know existed..

    The food - This links to my pledge from the last point, because there is so much more to experience than what I can find here. On browsing the yellow pages, you find only 8 different cuisines listed, and one of those is 'British', and I want more. On visiting Brick Lane market with a friend last summer, the food hall there gave me more choice than I'd ever had before, and that was one small hall in one small part of London. I want to eat Ethiopian food, snack on Vietnamese products and guzzle down the tastes of Turkey, I want to try new vegetables, see new ways of cooking and, above all, take them home with me. Whilst I do love my 'Homepride' pasta bakes, there is more to food than that.

    Travel opportunities - I want to go on the Eurostar and go to Paris! I want to fly away for the weekend to Prague, to Amsterdam, to Rome, to Madrid... and I want to do it all without a 4 hour trip to the airport either side of the trip.

    Can you tell I'm getting rather excited about moving to London? I think I'm even more excited because I'm doing it on my own, not with a boyfriend, not even with a friend and although I will know people in London, I'm far enough away that what I do with my time is completely within my own control. Sounds amazing, I can only hope it lives up to my expectations, though seeing as life is what you make it, I'm sure it will.

    Friday, 8 April 2011

    Gender issues.

    Yesterday, I had an absolutely amazing seminar at university. The purpose was to challenge stereotypes and to consider how we inadvertedly exert them on the children we teach. One of the workshops I went to was about children who have gender issues, be it feeling they are in the wrong body, liking to dress up as the opposite sex or just those who don’t confirm to the gender ‘norms’.

    After making a list of the physical and biological features that make us male or female, we were asked to justify to the person next to us what it is that makes us male/female without referring to the list. The few things we came up with were of course weighted in stereotypes, and even at this point we had to question the stereotypes - are they cultural stereotypes of gender or gender stereotypes? And we talked about how our gender is transactional, so do we ‘have’ a gender as a child, do we become less of a woman after the menopause, what happens if we have a breast removed through cancer, if we are unable to have a child etc? It was absolutely mind blowing, and don’t get me wrong, I’m sure I am female, but why am I? What makes me a woman? And if I can’t define my gender, is it even relevant? Surely in that case I am who I am, I do what I do, behave the way I do and feel how I feel because I am me, not because I’m a woman. I’d imagine being free of those stereotypes and being able to do/be what you want to be and breaking those boundaries must be really invigorating and I’m going to be conscious of it from now on and just focus on being myself and letting others do the same.

    And then of course we questioned how we deal with gender at school, how we pigeon-hole children at school, how often you say “I need some strong boys to carry this table for me”: it’s challenged everything. It really was amazing. I don’t know if writing this blog can ever do justice to the thoughts and discussion that went on yesterday, but I wanted to document and share the experience, even though it is my second blog in one day!

    Thursday, 7 April 2011

    Jumping on the bandwagon.

    Everyone seems to be blogging these days. Although I don’t like to think of myself as one to ‘copy’ others, it’s impossible to deny that I am somewhat jumping on the bandwagon. But sometimes, you need somewhere to unravel the goings on in your head, and this is what brought me to seek solace in a public blog, rather than my private 'diary'. I used to blog an awful lot when I was a stereotypical angst-ridden teenager (although I probably shouldn’t lump despression and anorexia into that umbrella) and this was mostly due to loneliness. You see, I wasn’t a popular girl, nor was I pretty or confident. I was at best one of those ‘average’ children, never doing anything bad or good enough to be of any note or worth. It’s taken me a long time to get to this point in my life.

    Indeed, I used to spend hours every day daydreaming about what life would be like when I was older. “When I move out”, “when I have a boyfriend” and “when I am at university” were the common structure to my almost obsessive hopes and dreams. It does make me proud, however, to be here now, still sat on the same bed in the same house with the same flaws, but instead, am happy and confident about myself and my life. I think that’s the most amazing thing about how much I’ve changed in my three years at university (and it is this journey to which I attribute most of my change), because I haven’t really changed. The only thing that had to change was my attitude about my life, and rather than wallowing in self pity and waiting for life to happen to me, about a year ago I stepped out into the world and decided that I would make my own future and decide my own fate. I’m now sat here, in my final year at university as an almost qualified primary school teacher with my own class waiting for me on September 7th, single, starting to plan my move to London. My escape is finally nigh, and not because I want to escape my life, but because I want to finally lay the past to rest. I finally have my dream job, in my dream location, with freedom and possibilities the 16-year-old myspace blogger could never have even dreamed of.

    So why am I blogging again? It’s to chart the next few years of my life, the ups and the downs, and to explore the new version of myself that I am now and am still yet to become. I’m really looking forward to the next few years and know that it will be everything I want it to be, if I make it mine.