I’m Blogging on a Friday Night

I’m Blogging on a Friday Night

Okay. So blogging on a Friday night doesn’t sound that fun BUT I have had a few glasses of wine and I have no idea what this blog is going to be about – I’m letting my hair down (very figuratively) and going rogue. It’s wild.

One thing I thought I’d write about is friendship. I was going to have the title “A Good Friend Is…” and then the blog would be a big list of all the traits of a good friend. It would have had stuff like they give it to you straight and you don’t want to kill them. Or you want to kill them but you can tell them you want to kill them and then you can have a laugh about it. Or they laugh at your outfit choices. Or they tally up the amount of favours you owe them. Or they’ll get drunk with you if you need it. Or they’ll stay in with you if you need it. They know your mum. They tell you that they prefer your mum over you. A good friend is sort of like having a partner but without the sexual attraction. Like, you could probably marry your best friend if you fancied them. Sometimes, you wish you did fancy them. That would make life easy. They’re always on your side – even when it seems like they’re not.

So yeah, it was going to be stuff like that. BUT THEN I thought I’d write about Nina Stibbe. I LOVE HER. Like, I actually really properly think I love her. She’s written four books and I love them all. One of the books was made into a TV show and I love that. I listened to a podcast with her in it this morning and she was warm, funny, intelligent, and NICE. I know some people hate the word “nice”, but it’s TOTALLY underrated. I love nice people – well, just as long as they have a bit of edge. Or not an edge – just something genuine, if that makes sense? But anyway, back to Nina. She’s had a reallly quirky childhood and I think that’s why I relate to all her stories so much. Her parents are totally fucking mental – like mine. If we met, we’d probably have a real good bond over our mental childhoods.

So then I thought I’d write about parents. The different parents you get. The different ways we can all be screwed up – or the different ways we can all turn out great, I suppose. But urgh, that all gets a bit grey, doesn’t it? And who really cares about the kinds of parents there are? I really just wanted to write about the time my dad tried to convince me that getting high would help me get an A in my English Higher.

Then I thought I’d write about Christmas. About how people tend to get a bit nuts at Christmas. But meh. I’m not ready to write about Christmas yet. IT’S TOO STRESSFUL. Not only do I not know what I want to get people, but I don’t know what they should get me. It’s SUCH a hard life.

Then I thought I’d just start writing and see what happened.

And then this happened.

Being 24 (And Why It’s Awesome)

Being 24 (And Why It’s Awesome)

MIND FUCK: 24 was the age all the characters in Friends were when the show started and that’s the age I am now (and have been for a wee while). WHAAAAAAT?

They were so grown up. They had sex, jobs, some money, apartments, relationships, annoying parents, and all sorts of grown up things. They were my idols. Their lives looked incredible. They were 24. And now I’m 24. Yikes.

But it’s a good age, isn’t it? I think it is. Here’s why:

Jobs

People who are 24 tend to have a job. Studying (URGH) is no longer required. You can go home at 6 and you can switch off — if you want. Because you can stay switched on if you like your job. Either way, you win. Love your job? You’re getting paid to have fun. Hate your job? You still have actual proper guilt-free free time. Also, at 24, you don’t have to feel guilty if you’re not doing your “dream job”. There’s still time.

Friends

Gone are the days when you have to be friends with absolute dicks because not having friends looks super uncool. You’re only friends with people you genuinely really like and care about. To be fair, they’re probably a bit dickish too. But dickish in a good way. They call you up on bullshit and keep you on your toes. And you can also be dickish. They forgive you when you make a drunken moron of yourself or don’t text them back for ages or bail on events because you can’t be assed or WHATEVER. You love them and they love you – annoying warts and all. See Peter’s Friends for reference.

Self-esteem

So you’re definitely not as self-conscious as you were when you were in your teens. And you’ve sort of come to the realisation that being yourself is alright. You do the things that you think are fun and that’s that. And instead of telling people lies so they like you, you tell them the truth. Although, don’t get me wrong, you probably still hate yourself pretty much 78% of the time, but it’s definitely not as bad as those teen years. Ugh, weren’t they the worst?

FREEEEEEEDOM

I actually don’t want to limit freedom to just being 24/in your twenties. Being free is certainly a lot easier in your twenties, but you have to be free whatever your age. You should always be able to change your mind. Don’t like a job you’ve been doing for 20 years? GET OUT. Don’t want to be married anymore? GET OUT. Had enough of being a parent? Sorry, that one you’re stuck with.

You’re the perfect mix of kid/adult

YOU HAVE THE BEST OF BOTH WORLDS. You don’t have to do what your parents say anymore, but you can still ask them for help.  It’s acceptable to stay in and watch Masterchef every night, but it’s acceptable to go out and get drunk. If you can’t remember the last time you had a home-cooked meal or changed your bed sheets or got 8 hours sleep, people still treat you like an adult! It’s jammy, jammy, jammy.

Money

My dad calls my boyfriend and I “TINKs”. Two incomes, no kids. It’s good, isn’t it? While we both have jobs, neither of us have any responsibilities. I mean, we probably should start saving for the “future”, but it’s a lot more fun eating out, drinking, and going on holidays and things. And it’s not like we don’t have a savings account. We have one, we’re just always taking money out of it. Because we can.

I think there are more good things about being in your twenties, but since I’m in my twenties, I drank a lot over the weekend and I’m sort of dying a little and I really want a crisp sandwich and a Pixar film. Yeah, I’m just going to just end this blog here.

 

Some Dialogue Since I’ve Been Home

Some Dialogue Since I’ve Been Home

Dad: I need to figure out what to do with your grandad.

Me: What do you mean?

Dad: Well, he’s just sitting through in the office.

Me: His ashes?

Dad: Mmm.

Me: Why don’t you scatter them in the sea? He loved the sea.

Dad: Well, I promised him I’d put bury his ashes next to Grandma’s but I promised her I wouldn’t put his ashes anywhere near her.

Me: Oh.

 

Me: Get your feet off the table!

Brother: What? They’re clean. Smell them.

Me: No! You’ve been walking on the floor all morning.

Brother: Fine, I’ll put on my shoes.

 

Dad: People keep wishing me a happy 70th birthday. How can I possibly have a happy 70th birthday? It’s a contradiction in terms, isn’t it?

 

Dad: So Norm, I was thinking I’d make you macaroni and cheese tonight. We’re going to have beef.

Brother: I don’t eat cheese. I’m vegan now.

Dad: Oh for fuck’s sake.

 

Brother: I go swimming now.

Me: I’ve joined a gym!

Brother: Jesus, I couldn’t join a gym.

Me: Going swimming is practically going to a gym.

Brother: I prefer cycling.

Me: I cycle AND go to the gym.

Dad: I turn over onto my other side to avoid bed sores.

 

Dad: I’ll never be as smart as I was when I was 18.

Dad (to me): You were never smart when you were 18.

Me: I know, I was just thinking that.

Sister: You were nice though.

 

Dad: What are you, Fraser?

Boyfriend: My star sign?

Me: He’s an Aries.

Sister: Oh, fire!

Me: His midheaven is all air though.

 

Me: Dad, what is that?

Dad: What do you think it is?

Me: Grass?

Dad: Parsley.

Me: No, Dad. Seriously, what is it? Is it grass?

Dad: Yes.

Me: Is grass and weed the same thing?

Whole family: Of course it is.

The 12 Stages Of Writing A Novel

The 12 Stages Of Writing A Novel

 

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The “Hehe” Stage

Ah. Just beginning your novel. Writing that first paragraph and feeling very giggly that you’re actually giving your novel a go. You’re also a little giggly because you’re not taking it very seriously. You know that this is probably just another one of your lame projects that you’re going to give up as soon as you’ve started.

The “Ooh” Stage

This is the bit where you find that you haven’t given up yet. You’re actually enjoying the whole writing a novel thing. You get up early so you can write before work. You’re having fun and, for some unknown reason, you keep going back to it. You keep thinking, “Ooh, I didn’t think this was going to happen.” “Ooh, I’m still doing this”. “Ooh”.

The Dissertation Stage

The bit where you’e written as many words as you had in your dissertation. It’s not that impressive because your dissertation didn’t have that many words but still. You HAD to write your dissertation. You didn’t HAVE to write this novel. It’s pretty cool.

The “Fuck, I’ve Written Over 20 000 Words Stage”

This is more than your dissertation and your novel is actually beginning to take shape. You know what you want it to be. When people ask you how many words you’ve written, you tell them, and they don’t know what it means. They don’t know what 20 000 words looks like. You don’t either. You just see it on your computer but you have no idea what it looks like in an actual book. You laugh because it’s probably only a chapter.

The “Oh My God I’m Having So Much Fun” Stage

You can’t quite believe that you STILL haven’t given up yet. This is the biggest thing you’ve ever done and you love it and you’re proud of yourself for still doing it. You look forward to writing it. You take notes about what you want to write when you’re away from it. You wake up in the middle of the night knowing EXACTLY what should happen next. You write it down on your phone. It makes no sense in the morning, but it doesn’t matter. You carry on anyway.

The “Shit. Should This Be A Real Thing Stage?”

You’ve written a lot now. It really is turning into an actual novel and you start thinking about getting it published, making it real.

The “LOL What Am I Thinking Stage?”

You start reading bits of your novel and you imagine someone else reading it. You suddenly hate it. Everything you’ve written is stupid, boring, and unoriginal. Everyone has said what you’ve said before. You’re doing nothing new or interesting. You’re never going to get published.

The Forgetting About It Stage

You stop. You don’t write. And you don’t write for a really long time. It bugs you. This unfinished novel is aways in the back of your mind but you can’t get back to it. It’s rubbish and there’s nothing you can do to make it better.

The Going Back To It Stage

You’re bored one day so you open your novel. You skim through it. You have a new perspective because you’ve been away from it for a little while. It’s not as bad as you thought it was. Sometimes you like what you’re saying. Sometimes you think that there hasn’t been a story like yours before. You tentatively start to type.

The Committing Stage

You know now that no matter what, you’re going to finish this novel. You’re marrying it. You’re saying your vows. You know it’s not going to be easy but you don’t want to give up.  You keep telling yourself you’ll get drunk when you finish it.

The Rollercoaster Stage

Like all commitments, it isn’t easy. You have your good days. You LOVE writing and it makes you happy. You couldn’t live without it. Your novel’s always open on your laptop. Always there for you to dive back into – which you do, regularly. But then there’s the bad days. Your character is too one-dimensional, the narrative doesn’t make any sense, your grammar is all over the place, there’s only one perspective. Who wants to read a novel that just has one opinion? NO ONE. But still you carry on. You’re in it for the long run.

The Coming To The End Stage

You have as many words in your novel as other novels have. How the fuck did that happen? You know exactly how you want it to end but you’re scared to write it. Because once you write it, you’ll have to read it – and it might be crap. You know there is a lot of rubbish in it. You know that once you finish it, you’re going to have to go back and edit, edit, edit, and edit again and again and again. And that’s only if it’s worth all the edits. It might not be. It’s a well known fact that first novels are often terrible. You might have to scrap it and start again. You’re still going to finish it though.

So as I’ve actually not finished my novel, this is the stage I’m at. Better get back to it, I suppose.

 

 

101 Thoughts I Have Sometimes

101 Thoughts I Have Sometimes

  1. Am I bad feminist?
  2. Are they stretch marks or heat rash?
  3. I should really shave my legs.
  4. I’m horny.
  5. I’m not horny.
  6. Why do I feel so anxious?
  7. What did they mean when they said that?
  8. I’m going to be fired.
  9. I can’t wait to take my bra off.
  10. I’ll just snooze for five more minutes.
  11. They are so annoying.
  12. Please don’t sit next to me.
  13. I can’t believe they sat next to me.
  14. I just want to get drunk.
  15. I’m going on a diet and I’m joining a gym.
  16. Did someone say crisps?
  17. I’m hungry. I’m hungry, I’m hungry, I’m hungry.
  18. This day is dragging.
  19. This day is going too quickly.
  20. Is is too early to have a glass of wine?
  21. I think my friends hate me.
  22. I should really get out more.
  23. OMG I’VE GOT LEG CRAMP.
  24. Does Kate Middleton poop?
  25. My resting face is HIDEOUS.
  26. I don’t know what I’ll do when Emma Thompson dies.
  27. What actually is deja vu?
  28. Has missing that bus just changed the entire course of my life?
  29. Gwyneth Paltrow suits short hair.
  30. Is that my feet that smell?
  31. I’m not going to have any seconds.
  32. Okay, I’ll have seconds but I’m not going to have any thirds.
  33. It’s not a third if I’m literally eating one chip and a tiny piece of chicken.
  34. I’m so full. I’m never eating again.
  35. How are they so smart?
  36. She is so beautiful.
  37. Her eye liner is PERFECTION.
  38. I’m going to watch an eye liner tutorial when I get home.
  39. She is so skinny.
  40. I’ll just read to the end of this chapter.
  41. OMG I NEED TO KNOW WHAT’S GOING TO HAPPEN NEXT.
  42. Will I ever finish my novel?
  43. Is there any point finishing it if it’s total crap?
  44. Whatever happens, I’m getting drunk when I finish it.
  45. I can’t believe I’m getting turned on by watching someone type.
  46. It can’t be natural for two people to spend the rest of their lives together, can it?
  47. I wonder what a G spot orgasm feels like.
  48. Maybe I should get a G spot vibrator.
  49. Are G spot orgasms the same as vaginal orgasms?
  50. Is it true that it becomes easier to have one of these the older you get?
  51. That’s something to look forward to.
  52. I am way out of my depth here.
  53. Does anyone know that I’m a total imposter?
  54. I miss the country.
  55. I hate people.
  56. I just want to lock myself away for a whole month and not speak to anyone.
  57. Apart from my boyfriend. He can stay.
  58. OMG I JUST SWALLOWED A BUG.
  59. Why can’t everyone just get along?
  60. The news is so depressing.
  61. I HATE Donald Trump.
  62. Does his wife really have to have sex with him?
  63. Ew.
  64. I’m going to go to Lakeland at the weekend and buy grown up kitchen things.
  65. I want a baby.
  66. I wonder what my children will look like.
  67. Will I actually be able to raise humans?
  68. All Dad wanted for his children was to be thick and happy.
  69. That’s actually a good aspiration.
  70. Where even is Dad? Canada? Spain?
  71. I wonder what retirement is like.
  72. I hope I do something good with my life.
  73. Does anyone die without any regrets?
  74. Life is really weird.
  75. I DON’T WANT TO DIE.
  76. Why is cheese so damn TASTY?
  77. I love my bike.
  78. The words I am saying right now don’t make any sense put together.
  79. Shut up, shut up, shut up.
  80. Ooh a Buzzfeed Disney princess quiz!
  81. Politics are really hard to understand.
  82. I don’t understand money.
  83. How can we trust what anyone says?
  84. I’m so stupid.
  85. I need to improve my vocabulary.
  86. Aardvark. An African ant-eating mammal.
  87. Sometimes I wish I smoked.
  88. My cheek bones have no definition.
  89. Why am I imagining having sex with this person who I’m not even attracted to?
  90. What would it be like to put my foot on the accelerator and not take it off?
  91. I really hope I don’t drop this baby.
  92. I don’t ever want to go to a mental institution.
  93. What if I totally thought I was sane, but I was actually crazy?
  94. OR what if I was sane, but everyone was trying to convince me I was crazy?
  95. What even is “normal”?
  96. I wish I could be invisible.
  97. I don’t think I’d like to be telepathic. That could be dangerous.
  98. It would be so easy to steal this eye liner.
  99. I love rain.
  100. I don’t want that person to die.
  101. Mmm…butter.
Things That Fill Me Up With Pure, Unadulterated RAGE

Things That Fill Me Up With Pure, Unadulterated RAGE

People walking slowly:

WHY are some most people so unaware of the space around them? They just dawdle along completely oblivious to you RIGHT behind them, trying your hardest to get passed. Because that’s another thing – they dawdle along IN THE MIDDLE OF THE PAVEMENT. And whenever you try and pass them on either side, they dawdle sideways and block your way. Fuckers.

People walking too quickly:

This one’s a bitch too. Sometimes you just want to dawdle, take in the sights, breathe the summer air, listen to the birds but you CAN’T because some most people are too busy rushing through life and getting all impatient and huffy right on your heels. People need to learn to CHILL.

Space hoggers:

People who get on buses, planes, and trains and take up your seat space. People coming towards you on the pavement who refuse to move. People who put theirs bags and/or coats on the chair next to them in the hairdressers/doctors. People who think they’ve got a God-given right to more space in the world than others. MOVE THE FUCK OVER.

People (excluding my mum, boss, or some sort of instructor/mentor) who try and tell me what to do:

I won’t listen. And if I do, I’ll do the opposite of what you say. I can’t help it.

Vicious gossip:

We all gossip. It’s a natural part of being a human and I think that most of the time we gossip about people we actually care about. We like talking about them. We like worrying about them. We like them. But then there’s that other kind of gossip. The vicious kind. The kind where people discuss someone they don’t even know and get pleasure out of making fun of them. JUST STOP.

Queue jumpers:

GET BACK IN LINE BITCH.

Judgy McJudgersons:

Ugh. People who make other people feel this small for doing something that isn’t harming anyone. Like eating pizza with mayonnaise or wearing clothes that don’t match or the way you walk or your accent or your hair or your tattoo or what you have for lunch or the shoes you wear or basically anything that ISN’T HARMING ANYONE. Just leave the poor people alone and let them do their thing!

Scotrail:

The most pathetic excuse for a train company in the world, and big stealing bastards. Their tickets are EXTORTIONATE and you NEVER get a seat! You just curl up in the bike rack and try and eat your £3.00 meal deal in peace. Is it really so difficult for them to put out seat reservations?! EVERY OTHER TRAIN COMPANY IN THE WORLD CAN DO IT. Incompetence, thy name is SCOTRAIL.

People who talk about being on a diet while you’re eating a crisp sandwich:

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People who don’t order anything to eat and then want to eat your food:

I’ve started telling these people outright that under no circumstances are they getting any of my food. They usually look pretty shocked. I think they’re quite horrified about how selfish I’m being, but like Joey, JOSIE DOESN’T SHARE FOOD. It’s a flaw, I’m not working on it, get over it.

Oh yeah, people who just want to order a big selection of Chinese food and share it all:

No.

People who look at what I’m eating and say “ew”:

That’s rude, isn’t it? It feels rude. 

Passive-aggressive monkeys:

If you’ve got something to say, either say it outright or don’t say it at all. Being passive-aggressive is a sure way to get me NOT to do what you want.

Bad manipulators:

Please do it better. I’m much happier when I have no idea I’m being manipulated.

People who are horrible to their mum:

She gave BIRTH to you, fed you from her breast (maybe), answered your every needy whim, ALWAYS put you before herself, clothed you, educated you, loved you when no one else would so STOP taking her for granted and treating her like she’s a moron. You’re the moron.

 

MY GOD THAT FELT GOOD.

 

 

A Dilemma

A Dilemma

*First-World-Problem Alert*

Hmm. So I’m at home at the minute and…and my mum has pretty much stolen all of my books. No, not “pretty much”, she HAS stolen all of books.

I didn’t notice last night. I was too sleepy and too excited at being home. So sleepy and so excited that I skipped around the whole house and then fell fast asleep on the couch. It wasn’t until this morning that I realised that every single shelf in the house is filled with my books.

When did that happen?

I haven’t been home since Christmas so I’m guessing sometime between then and now.

Hmm.

I don’t know if I should say anything. Does she know that I’m planning on having a library room in the house of my dreams? Probably. Does she know that when that happens I will drive home in a big van and take all of my childhood and teenage books? Probably not.

I get that they were just piling up in my bedroom for no one to see and that they’re probably a lot happier in the shelves Mum has put them in, but it just means that I won’t be able to take them. Because how can I? I know I said I would, but I can’t rip them from their beloved home. If they were still in boxes and sad piles in my bedroom, they’d GLADLY come with me to my new house with a fancy library, but they’re happy where the are now and they’d only be sad and scared if I moved them. AND they wouldn’t know the books of my adult (ish) years. What if those books make fun of them or think them stupid?

For the love of god, what the hell am I talking about? You see? This is what happens when you get writer’s block. You start writing absolute shit. I’d be really impressed if you’re still reading. Really, REALLY impressed.

I’ll just stop now.