So it’s actually past my bed time but I’m wide awake thanks of polishing off half a tub of Ben & Jerry’s (karamel sutra), which is crazy for me. Usually that stuff is totally off limits until Friday – Sunday. Sugar rush on a Wednesday night… am I wild or what.

Anyway I’ve been suffering with tooth/head/face ache for 2 days so curling up on the sofa all alone with my ice cream and the last couple episodes of Girls to catch up on (I can’t believe the next season will be the last, I’m not ready to say goodbye) was a treat for being such a trooper while my stupid body sabotages itself.

So I’m using my wide-awake-too-much-sugar time to get some more complicated feelings off my chest… This is something I typed up a few days ago…

I had a cry. In the toilets in work… Not for long, but when I left my eyes and nose were all red. Hopefully I just looked as though I’d been sneezing? Nobody mentioned it.
I had a cry because… well, actually, I’m not sure why I cried.

You know when you get a text message you can like see the first couple lines of it without actually reading it? Well, while I was working a text from him came in. He was asking if I wanted to go to New York in Nov. Flights were ‘only’ £340, we could go see the first UFC event to be held in Madison Square Gardens. I ignored it, ’cause I had to pretend to be working. Another text came in:”???” And another: “It’ll be all lit up for xmas and it’ll be so romantic and we can go ice skating and then watch people punch each other”.

I definitely didn’t cry because my boyfriend invited me to New York – Ice skating and UFC sounds perfect (except that I’m not dying to go back to NYC, I went as a teen and wasn’t enamored. Shock horror am I allowed to say that? A 20-something white girl blogger who doesn’t love NYC?! I’ll be excommunicated…)

But, regardless, the answer was no. I couldn’t even consider it. How the fuck was I supposed to pull £340 out of my arse on an hours notice? Yeah – he wanted to book it RIGHT AWAY. I’m currently paying off my credit card, trying to save money to pay him for the air bnb he booked for Paris at the end of August, trying to save spending money for Paris and money to buy him a 30th bday present (he wants dinner at a restaurant that’s like £300 PER PERSON). I mistakenly bought flights to London for a weekend to visit a friend, thinking I could do it on the cheap since flights are only £25, little did I realise it would cost £100 for a half decent hotel. His answer? ‘Just stick it on your credit card’ (he’s not the best at managing his finances). If I’m already saving for all of that other stuff how am I supposed to just stick another £340 on my credit card? Knowing full well that I won’t be able to pay it off for months and months, that I’d be gaining interest on it AND worrying about it every fucking day? No. The answer was just no – can’t be done. Plain and simple.

But making sensible financial decisions is FUCKING BORING. And maybe I am too, because I am good with my money (I have so little of it I have no choice but to be!). I’ve very little on my credit card and to be honest my savings can cover it if needs be (but they’re my rainy day fund atm). The only loan I have to repay is my student loan, which, let’s face it, doesn’t really count… I’ve never had bad credit, I’ve never been in debt or owed anybody money. But I’m also constantly saying ‘I can’t, I’m skint’, which really translates as ‘I could, but there’s far more sensible things I need to spend my money on.’

Was that why I cried? Because I had to say no AGAIN to something I wanted to do? I mean, I’ve wanted to visit my pal in London for like 2 years but never had the money. Now I finally can (although I wish I’d put more planning into it and organised accommodation first…). But there’s so many other things I have to say no to – a deal for a night in a fancy hotel with a hot tub and a bottle of champers with my girlfriend cause I can’t stump up £75 for one night. A few nights away with my mum, because I’m saving for Paris instead and can only afford one holiday. A night at a hotel and spa with him, just because. Lunch at a nice restaurant, just to try it. And the countless other holidays he’s tried to get me to book on a whim. Is it always saying no that made me cry?

Or is it the pressure of trying to keep up with everybody else? With my boyfriend who is inexplicably flush ALL. THE. TIME. With my girlfriend who has the same expensive taste as me but actually has the means to fund it. With all my other girlfriends with their mortgages or fancy hotel-looking apartments (if you’re reading this, you know who you are 😉 ). The friends who pay more bills than me and still manage to go clothes shopping and plan holidays.*

These seem like valid enough reasons to get emotional in the middle of the day at text messages I haven’t actually read yet. But that’s not why I cried.

I cried because he’s going anyway. Without me.

He’s gonna go and he’s gonna have a great time without me and he won’t miss me or wish I was there and he won’t need me and he doesn’t need me and that’s perfectly normal because a person shouldn’t need their partner but for some reason I can’t apply that rule to him and I want him to need me or want me and not go live his life without me.

I mean, I’m not even part of the decision making. I have no control whatsoever over what he does or doesn’t do, who he does it with or where he goes… We’re living two separate lives and he’s cool with that. And I’m powerless to change any of it. And that’s why I cried.

I can control how much money I spend or save. I can control how much sugar I eat throughout the week. But I can’t control my feelings, or his.

…Or grinding my teeth at night. Hence the tooth/head/face ache. Ow.
*Disclaimer – Most of these friends also worked a lot harder to get a career/get their shit together than I did. I do realise that… just sayin’, cause I know how much of a little bitch I sound!

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Stiff Upper Lip


So it’s been quite a while since I posted. I’m making a conscious effort to be a bit more positive and chilled out, and considering my blog posts are usually inspired by anger/frustration/misery/insert-negative-emotion-here, I thought it better not to vent publicly. Truth is, I’m still very bitter & wounded from my heartbreak (I was a moody bitch before so just imagine how cynical I am now!) but I don’t want people to see me that way. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not running around grinning and exuding rainbows and shitting candyfloss… I mean even if I wanted to I’d never be able to shift this bitch-face or dry sense of humour, but I just want the world to think that I’ve picked myself up and carried on. Because I kind of have… I’m not giving in to the tears or temper tantrums. When I feel it all building up, instead of completely losing my shit I’ll send a friend some rant-y texts, apologise for said rant and get an early night. I’ll try to keep myself busy the next day until the rage subsides (yes those are delirium lyrics *In this white wave, I am sinking, in this siiiiiilence* Good tune).

You guys already know how paradoxical I am. So although I totally back the whole self love ‘movement’ (is it a movement? What defines a movement? The amount of people hashtagging it?), I struggle with it on a personal level. In the same way that I’m battling my own internalized sexism in my feminist awakening, I’m tackling the self-deprecation that’s really instilled in the British & Irish. We are definitely not taught to love ourselves. It causes problems on a national scale, including a mental health crisis (because we cannot talk about our emotions no no… stiff upper lip and all that!) but also something that I’m sure deeply affects every one of us… Not having any idea how to fucking sell ourselves in a job interview.

Interviewer: And what would you consider your strengths to be?
Me: Well, I’m kind of good at this and I once did that kind of well…
Interviewer: And your weaknesses?
Me: Oh god, where do I start? I’m always late, apathetic toward my work, lazy, hate responsibility, moody, short attention span…
Interviewer: Please stop
Me: I yawn a lot, I need to eat at least every 2 hours, constantly on my phone…
Interviwer: Please
Me: I’m sarcastic, can’t do simple maths, have jealousy issues, oh and I pull sickies at least 4 times a year.
Interviewer: We’ll be in touch

We are definitely not taught to love ourselves, look after ourselves or take time for ourselves. No, because that is self-indulgent and JESUS DOESN’T LIKE IT. Hell, if I had a quid for every time I’ve been called selfish… And being even slightly selfish, vain or egotistical is like one of the worst things a person can be. Better to be unhappy, unhealthy and unfulfilled than be accused of being self-centered. But fuck it. I am selfish. I love working on myself, what a fucking sin, right?

And this is exactly what I mean! When faced with (or apparently even just thinking about) the kind of people who think that looking after yourself is a bad thing, or somebody who isn’t selfish enough and is miserable because of it, it’s easy for me to get on my soapbox and preach the glory of self love! Yet, I have so many days and nights where I feel absolutely worthless because of what other people (one person) thinks (or doesn’t think) of me. Like half my brain is totally tuned in and yes we love ourself and fuck everyone else ’cause we’re totally killing it!!! And the other half is asleep/stoned/paralyzed and just kind of flopping about in there like ‘what now? What are we doing? I’m just gonna go lie in this dark corner OK? You got any ice cream?’. It’s probably the side that’s supposed to do maths. Fuck maths.

But, hey, I’m trying. Like I’ve said in an early blog post, I hold out hope for my thirties, on the sage advice of my lovely mum. Maybe if I try to start loving myself now I’ll have it figured out in 5-10 years! I’ll get a few comfortable years in before I start lamenting my youth and having a mid life crisis…

You can really tell I’m trying to be more positive, right?

No for real though, I do think it’s working. And I do think it’s really important for everybody, in terms of your relationship with yourself and with other people. If you are totally drained you can’t give other people what they need – love, empathy, a shoulder to cry on, whatever it may be. When we don’t look after ourselves we become exhausted and uncaring, and usually feel guilty about it to boot! I want it to be socially acceptable and even encouraged for people to take a step back from their life, their drama, partner, friends, family, job, all of it, to take a breath and step back into the ring with a second wind – without carrying a tonne of guilt with them!

So. I’m trying not to be so hard on myself, trying not to be so negative & doing things that make me happy! And since my relationship has very much taken a backseat in my day-to-day life, I can say with certainty that everything I do now is for me. And that’s how I want it. That’s maybe not how it has to be for everybody, but considering the way in which I lost myself in my relationship and subsequent heartbreak, it’s what’s right for me, right now. I’m eating right (trying to), I’m working out, I’m trying new things, booking trips with friends, I’m starting a new job & eventually I want my own place. Even if things work out with him, I think it’s important for me to have my own place, at least for a while. As scary as it is to be out on my own, I want to be that girl, who can be on her own. So I’m faking it til I make it… I’m suppressing all the stress I get over things I can’t control and I’m suffocating the bastard ’til it gets the fucking point.

Bad days – I am tougher than you. Lonely nights – You’re getting the cold shoulder. Self-loathing – I will punch you in the goddamn throat.

Who knows, maybe I’ll be preaching love and peace by the time I’m thirty. Namaste, bitches.

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UGH I’m trying SO hard to remain positive this week, but missing him is really getting on top of me. I can’t put him at the back of mind even for a second, he’s at the forefront 90% of the day – and the other 10% he’s like, in the second row. It’s driving me insane (dreamt I was a sniper last night, picking off the ‘baddies’ one by one from a seven-storey window; Most relaxing dream I’ve had in weeks).

But I’m not giving up!! It’s only Tuesday for fucks sake, I can at least go half a week without a break down, right? So here is a rambling, rather superficial list of things I have to smile about:

  • Planning a trip to Budapest with my friend
  • The McGregor-Aldo fight, wherever I end up watching it
  • The fact that I have falafel for lunch – fuck yeah
  • Checking out a new gym this week with some friends
  • Potential trip to southern Spain to learn free diving, if I stop being such a scardey cat – not kidding, I react to water the same way a very fluffy, very angry cat does.
  • Legends – the new movie about the Kray twins. Tom Hardy x2?! Yes please!
  • Saturday night plans with friends, wine and a big, dirty take away
  • My granda’s getting an Alsatian that puppy I can play with
  • One of his ponies is also expecting a FOAL!!! Who can’t be happy around a new born foal stumbling around like bambi?!
  • Online shopping. As my unemployed brother is always home to let the delivery man in, guess who doesn’t have to fuck around with Tesco anymore? *smug grin*
  • An invitation to stay with my friend in London – although she has informed me that our usual drug and alcohol fueled binges will be on hold until she completes a 10k run in November. Ugh.
  • Friends who spontaneously send me messages like this to get me through the day: 
  • VERY exciting work opportunities
  • New shoes – I may not be able to walk in them but I CAN look like a damn queen in them.
  • My little black cat (my familiar!) who sleeps at the end of my bed every single night
  • A tidy room. Used my half day yesterday to clean up and finally I can see the floor again.
  • Spying an awesome bracelet on an American site and finding out that they offer free shipping to Northern Ireland! Like, what?! Some English sites don’t even offer shipping to auld norn iron!
  • Unexpected text from a friend inviting me out for coffee tonight

Now that’s a good list! If I don’t cheer up I’m gonna need somebody to hook me up with some Prozac… Not kidding.

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**Sidenote** I wonder how many more hits this blog post would get if I titled it ‘Baby animals & Tom Hardy’??

Words to live by

I love Pinterest!

Seriously, who doesn’t? In the dark days, before this magnificent site came into being, I used to spend hours cutting up magazines and gluing ‘inspiration’ into categorized scrapbooks (I still do sometimes, I love a good ‘cut and stick’ now and then). But then Pinterest burst onto the scene like a miracle for serial organizers (not me!) and aesthetic lovers alike. I’ve only just started an ‘angry blonde’ account but my personal account is packed with boards and pins that I always go back to whenever I need a little inspiration. Today, which is another gloomy day in N.I. (quelle surprise), I need some motivation. So here is my curated collection of quotes that I should really try harder to live by. Hopefully they give you a little boost too, like a slap on the ass!

“Shit could be worse.”

For all my moaning and complaining and feeling sorry for myself, shit could be a lot worse. Yes, I lost my boyfriend, but at least I have friends who rallied around to help me through it. Yes, I lost my home, but at least I have a loving family with a spare room to come back to. Yes I lost the £600 security deposit I’d put down for our new place… but, at least it wasn’t £700? Idk…

“Thou shalt not take shit.”

And I don’t… except from him. I’ve now learned that I shouldn’t break this mantra for anybody. I’m a smart girl and I’m over making allowances for anybody’s ‘issues’. If you give me shit, bitch bye.

“It’s not who you are that holds you back, it’s who you think you’re not.”

This is so fucking true. I always find myself looking at others doing things I’d like to do and shrugging off the possibility because I’m not sociable enough, or not bubbly enough, not confident enough. But you know what? I’m not unsociable. I’m not shy and I am confident. When I consider all the things that I am, instead of what I’m not, I realise I’m capable of a fuck load. (Which is a legitimate measurement here in Northern Ireland…)

“Each day I am thankful for nights that turned into mornings, friends that turned into family, dreams that turned into reality and likes that turned into loves.” – Drake

Oh, Drake. So many quotable quotes… But this one immediately brings to mind such nights, friends, loves… It’s too easy to forget how much we are thankful for and how much we’d miss certain memories if we woke up tomorrow and realised they were merely dreams and we hadn’t lived them at all.

“Everything happens for a reason. But sometimes that reason is because you’re stupid and you make bad decisions.”

Sometimes it’s really important to just accept that you’re a dick. You did a dicky thing. Learn from it. Apologise. Make amends where possible and move the fuck forward. It’s not even a part of growing up, it’s a part of simply being human. This quote helps me to remember that we’ve ALL been there.

“Normal is an illusion. What is normal to the spider is chaos to the fly.” – Morticia Addams

I may envy my friends for having their shit together while my life has seemingly taken several steps backwards, but their normality has never been mine. Just because everybody else is married with a mortgage and planning kids doesn’t mean it would work for me. In fact, it most definitely would not work for me. Fuck normal.

“When you’re busy creating your own fulfillment you won’t feel the need to seek it from others.”

Which is why I need to keep working on my blog and on myself. Figure out what I want to do and where I want to be, and hopefully I’ll eventually be satisfied without his opinion.

“Feel the fear and do it anyway.”

The things that I am most proud of in my 24 years, and the things that have had a big hand in shaping me into who I am, are the things I was fucking terrified of doing. Petrified of starting, bricking it during the whole process and dreading it ending and being faced with the outcome. But the outcome was always me feeling like “I am the fucking bomb. I can do ANYTHING. I am tough, I am smart, I am wise, I am confident, I can throw a punch, I can eat an entire chocolate cake and I can fucking do it.”

“Laugh at the men who tell you you’re pretty. You’re so much more than that.”

SO important. When I spend time chatting to a guy, telling him about my interests, my feats, being my charming, witty self, and all he can say is ‘you’re hot’, I just have to walk away. I’m not sure what my type is, but a man who can’t see anything past blonde hair and a bit of lipstick is definitely not it. Girls (and guys), let’s chill about our looks for a minute cause we‘re so much more than that.

“I am better than I was. I will be better than I am.”

So, I have to face up to the fact that I was not the perfect girlfriend. But I tried my fucking best. I treated him better than I’d treated any ex. I improved myself, I worked on my jealousy issues (typical scorpio here), I was forgiving and I made sacrifices to try and keep him happy. I’m not perfect, but I am better than I was and I’ll be better again still.

“Whatever happens we’ll be OK. Nah, we’ll be fucking fantastic.” – Above & Beyond

Just gotta believe it

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Tips for getting through a girls-night hangover

  1. Wake up hideously early, feeling not so bad, and try to prepare yourself for the dark times ahead…
  2. Feed the cat that you harassed with drunken cuddles (squeezes) the night before and shakily pour yourself a glass of water.
  3. Curl up on sofa and go through your phone for any regrettable texts/calls/incriminating photos and delete drunk, sad and pathetic blog post from 3am.
  4. Begin to feel the hangover really setting in and search Pinterest for a ‘hangover smoothie’ recipe.
  5. Pretend to parents that you’re not that bad and try not to throw up said smoothie.
  6. Hover around the bathroom for a while just in case you do…
  7. Admit defeat and climb into bed for a few hours.
  8. Wake up from alcohol-induced nightmares, realise you’re overheating, get out of bed and lie on kitchen floor.
  9. Thank cat who has lay down next to you for moral support.
  10. More water, more bed.
  11. Finally find the strength to walk, rather than crawl, at around 4.30 in the afternoon and text abuse to the friend who claims she isn’t hungover.
  12. Try to be cool about the sweaty-faced photos of you in the club because everyone else looks pretty in them and you’re a good friend.
  13. Cry because your dad has asked you to grate some cheese for the lasagna.
  14. Prepare excuse to tell your granny who is coming for dinner why you’re in your PJs at 6pm with panda eyes.
  15. Do not get close enough for granny to notice that you smell of smoke, fake tan and tequila.
  16. Nibble some bread and focus 100% on not throwing up at the dinner table.
  17. Retreat to the bed again and binge watch Parks and Recreation on your laptop until you finally feel like you can eat.
  18. Eat cold lasagna from the dish – you do not need the hassle of a plate.
  19. Do not cry into your empty purse – instead do some online browsing for all the things you can spend your money on now that you’re ‘never drinking again’.
  20. Demand that your brother make you a hot chocolate then feel too sick to drink it.
  21. Watch more Parks and Recreation. Eat more cold lasagna.
  22. Convince dad to iron your work clothes because you’re dying and accept that he’s ironed a pleat into the legs of your trousers and that you will be going to work looking like a man.
  23. Sob for no reason other than your body is telling you to.
  24. Deduce that the hideous hangover is Karma punishing you for not telling the waitress in the restaurant that she’s given you the wrong (much cheaper) bill and just paying it and legging it before she noticed.
  25. Have another restless night, drag yourself into work Monday morning, don’t let anyone notice you falling asleep at your desk and eat as much bread as possible until you feel like a human being again.

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    Meā Culpā

    That was me, at half 7 this morning. Except I was looking considerably more disheveled, still not fully recovered from Sunday’s hangover. Why oh why does Monday always come around so damn quickly? I’d have pulled a sickie if I hadn’t already taken so much time off ‘sick’ lately – I’ve missed 3 weeks of work altogether over the break up and I was tempted to just quit completely. I’m still tempted now, sitting in my horrible little office, typing numbers into a computer, imagining what I could be doing at home instead… Yoga, brunch, a long walk in the sun, enjoying some tea and flicking through the pages of Vogue… Of course in real life I’d just be in bed because I’m a self-confessed lazy bitch. I’d still have tea though.

    This (picture me scanning over my dusty desk with piles of paperwork) is not how I pictured my future during the years spent writing essays at the last minute and stress eating over exams for my A Levels and French degree. But, meā culpā. I’m too lazy to figure out what I actually want to do for a living and to tell the truth, after 6 months of unemployment upon graduating, I felt lucky to get an office job! Some friends even envy my handy little 9-5 (actually 8-4.30, and we finish at 2 on Fridays!). I get weekends off and I never have to do overtime; I like my colleagues and I get to skive most days (I’m typing this up in between doing paperwork right now and plan to do my shopping on Tesco online later). But who is really satisfied being an office monkey?

    It didn’t bother me so much before the break up. Before I met him I had planned to move abroad after uni. I say ‘planned’… I hadn’t really planned anything at all – I just thought I’d figure it out. Story of my life. Alas, my heart had different ideas… I fell for him, hard and fast, madly and deeply; and he couldn’t come away with me, so I had no choice but to stay. The heart wants what it wants and all that. We had talked about moving to the mainland or possibly France in a few years, so I guess I used that as an excuse to stay in this job. It was just the easy option – it paid the rent and I looked forward to spending my evenings and Saturdays with himBut now, there’s nothing really keeping me here, and there are certainly more job opportunities elsewhere. “No reason to stay is the best reason to leave.”

    However, even if I do decide to go somewhere new, I’ll still need to take some funds with me. Living back with my parents has given me a chance to save a little (I still pay them ‘keep’ every week, although they never asked I think they’ve supported me and my brothers for long enough!), but honestly I’ve been skint ever since I left uni! So, yes, I finally have a chance to save, but it’s also a chance to spend. And every girl deserves a bit of retail therapy after having their heart broken, right? (I’d probably be much better off spending the money on actual therapy!)

    I suppose I’m a little overwhelmed with having so many options right now. Maybe I’ll take the easy route again… Forget about being independent, marry rich, and spend Monday mornings eating pancakes in my dressing gown, instead of racing into work (’cause I’m running late yet again), trying to ignore the unhealthy noises coming from my car and using the rear view mirror to do my mascara…

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    Oh my god.

    The thirst. The headache. The fatigue. I am so hungover. First time I’ve been drunk in months and as I suspected, getting pissed still doesn’t solve anything. Prosecco, beer, cocktails, tequila… Get out of my body you demons.

    It was a fun night. I wore my new shoes that cost a bomb (that I can’t walk in) and I spent ages doing my make up (just to get come onto by a homeless man hoping for a place to stay for the night – score!). I hadn’t been to a club for a long time and it was great to have a dance, but it was so dark and smoky that I was lost and disorientated 80% of the time. And has anyone ever noticed how clubs are fucking full of people? All kinds of people, but noticeably with a high ratio of dickheads. I think for every girl wearing a crop top there was a guy trying out the beard trend. I don’t know… I’m just grumpy and intolerant of other human beings lately.

    I was with an interesting mix of friends. One who’s married and perfectly (and I mean perfectly) happy; One who admits that marriage is actually really hard work a lot of the time and one who has been single for about a year. And it was great that we all had different things to talk about, different points of view, different problems – it really cheered me up for a while! But when my friend (who’s lovely husband kindly waited up til 2am to take us all home) told me it was time to leave, my heart sank. I didn’t want to go home to an empty bed; I just wanted to stay in the dark, obnoxious club with all the other dickheads where the music was too loud to think or feel anything other than mild confusion and ‘I love this song!’.

    I was drunk and tired and wanted to cry the minute we stepped outside. I had a little silent weep in the back of the car on the way home with my phone in my hand, his number on the screen. I text the friend we had just left home to ask her to say something, anything, to stop me from calling him (I didn’t want the others to notice I was upset in case I turned into a hysterical mess in front of our chauffeur), but she was already passed out…

    I somehow found the strength not to do it. I say strength, I think it was actually just fear of rejection. Once I got into bed I passed out as quickly as my friend had and woke up at 8am with a mouth like the Sahara desert and a heavy heart. I miss him. I miss our little house. I miss our bed. I miss touching the face of somebody who knew me so well and accepted me, for a time… But what has me so upset this morning is that all the times he’s been drunk (he drinks a lot since the split) and gone home alone (he’s living with his mum so I doubt he’s taking any one night stands back with him), he hasn’t been so sad and lonely to miss me. There has been no drunken calls or texts and I can’t imagine that at any point he has sat with his phone in his hand with my number on the screen wondering if he should call. Because why wouldn’t he? What would be stopping him? He knows I’d take him back in a heartbeat. He just doesn’t miss me. Doesn’t want me. Simple as that.

    When it’s so simple whys it so hard to accept?

    At least I learned that getting drunk isn’t the answer. And at the grand old age of 24, I am too old for clubs. Fuck. I need a hug and a bacon sandwich.

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    Friday musings

    Today’s been one of those days whee my brain has been too tired to think anything other than shit like the following:

    1. Friday, thank fuck
    2. I’m hungry
    3. Sunglasses make everybody look so cool
    4. I should wear hats more often
    5. I wonder if people would crowd fund my post-break up trip to Vegas or just think I’m a wanker for trying
    6. Maybe I should sign up to
    7. I’m hungry
    8. Am I the only one who looks like a clown when they try to contour?
    9. And wtf is strobing?
    10. Man I can’t wait for Autumn
    11. I wonder if my IG friends would like me in real life
    12. Is there such a thing as a bum massage?
    13. I should go to raves more often
    14. Would my dad really be that angry if I bought a Pygmy goat?
    15. I wish I was Ronda Rousey’s best friend
    16. I wish I was Ronda Rousey
    17. Is it normal to nap for 3 hours?
    18. Why is there so much porn on Instagram?!
    19. I’m hungry
    20. When was the last time I ate super noodles?
    21. I hope I’m the person Above & Beyond pick to push the button on stage at Belsonic
    22. Do. Not. Eat. The. Chocolate.
    23. Ok, do not eat any more chocolate
    24. Will people think I’m a creep if I go to the cinema by myself?
    25. I can’t fucking walk in these shoes

    Anybody else have those days where your brains just can’t work/won’t work?

    TGIF amiright?

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    Mirror, mirror…

    So I’ve been craving some new ink for a while now. I have a few very small tattoos already, but I feel the need to get something big. However, given my current mindframe and the fact that 2015 has been an annus horribilis (for my whole family, strangely!), it’s maybe not a good idea to mark this period of my life.

    And yet the idea keeps creeping around my mind like all those other things that you know won’t really make you happier but you kind of think they will anyway? You know, like those expensive shoes you’ve been eyeing or losing those extra few lbs… Materialistic stuff we spend our days thinking about, working towards, yet as soon as we’ve got it there’s something newer and seemingly better to covet. I think my urge to get inked right now is a stab at taking ownership of my body because for the first time in a very, very long time, I hate it.

    I haven’t gained weight; I’m a size 8/10, I (mostly) eat well and workout several times a week. This past year/year and a half I’ve been in the best shape of my life and that hasn’t changed much, but I’ve realised that I hate looking in the mirror – at the things he used to claim to love about me.

    I’ve somehow let all of my self-worth be defined by his opinion of me, which could change with his mood. I’m a smart girl, how the hell did I let that happen? And how did I not even realise it? I’ve been walking around the past 2 years feeling like a strong, sexy, confident, happy woman. I thought that’s who I was, I thought that was how I really felt. In actual fact, who I am and what I feel is conditional upon how he views me. And now that I don’t have his opinion at all, it’s like I’m nothing.

    Pathetic, I know. And I know I need to learn to love myself (like I thought I did) and become my own person etc. etc… That’s all fine and good. I’m working on that and I guess I’ll get there. But I just can’t figure out how I let it happen. Before him, nobody could make me feel bad about myself. I didn’t need any man’s opinion – no matter how good it was! And he fucking broke me.

    Maybe I’ll get the scariest tattoo I can find, just to keep the men away. No regrets, right?

    If only…

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    On the bright side, I am not addicted to cocaine…

    Ok so I’ve done nothing but complain about the human experience lately but let me be clear, I do realise that shit could be worse. I am, in fact, a very lucky girl. All the trials and tribulations of my twenties are just a normal part of the privileged life many of us are fortunate enough to be living.

    With that in mind I’m trying to focus on the positives this week. And while all the big parts of my life are looking as bleak as the Northern Irish summer, I’m trying to find smiles in the very little things:

    1. Driving home from work yesterday with a view of the brightest rainbow I’ve ever seen
    2. Early nights (and sleep in general)
    3. Avocado toast
    4. My delectable Max Benjamin Coffee & Cardamom candle
    5. Puzzle books
    6. Clean bed sheets
    7. New shoes
    8. Fleetwood Mac
    9. Vogue, Harper’s Bazaar & ID magazine
    10. Hot chocolate
    11. Good eyebrows
    12. Dwarf hamsters. So. Fucking. Cute.
    13. Autumn
    14. Starry nights
    15. Champagne cocktails

    There’s plenty to smile about (metaphorically of course – I suffer from chronic bitch face). What’s on your list?

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