Rambles, rants and raves

A lot of opinions spilling out of my brain


I ate too many skittles and now I feel sick

I have a sweet tooth. That is probably the reason why I am having three fillings on Friday, much to the delight of my dentist.

Anyway, I ate too many skittles and now I feel sick.

My greed got the better of me. I had a packet of skittles on Sunday and it left me craving more. So I bought two packets on Tuesday and then bought a party pack (which is effectively two and a half packets, maybe three at a stretch – do not let the name fool you into thinking it’s bigger) today. I have eaten half of that party pack and now I feel sick.

I feel bloated and my belly has ballooned so I look like I have stuffed a small pillow under my shirt. I feel like I need to curl into a ball and hibernate to take away the uncomfortable feeling and yet I still want more of them. I have had to hide the packet inside my cabinet under about four jumpers and those damn sour skittles are still calling me.



Just for fun

I am not promoting alcoholism or suggesting that whiskey is the answer to life’s problems since everyone knows that cheesecake is. I’m also not suggesting that the key to happiness comes in the form of an alcoholic beverage nor am I trying to force you to have said alcoholic beverage.

I feel I must state all of this because the internet is a weird place and you can put something up like a cool, little infographic that’s just supposed to be a little joke on “social” drinking and the next thing you know you’re apparently an alcoholic that has been in rehab twice.

NOTE: I am not an alcoholic nor have I ever been in rehab. Now that we have everything cleared up – enjoy (the infographic, not the alcohol – or feel free to enjoy alcohol, or don’t. Everything in moderation. Okay I’m going to stop now).


A working day in London in numbers

Original image considering the post right? i kid, I wanted a cartoon of people stuck together like sardines in the tube but I couldn’t find one.

One very early morning

Three stupid drivers

Hundreds of raindrops for five minutes

Thousands of raindrops for ten minutes

No raindrops

Twenty empty seats on the underground carriage

Fifteen empty seats

Ten empty seats

No empty seats and thirteen standing people

No smiling faces

One kissing couple

Four loud men

One smiling face

Two stepped on feet

Lots of research

Millions of head nods

Seven handshakes

One of the most expensive lunches I will ever have

Two lovely phone calls

One quick walk

Four stops

One change

One weird man knocking on the window to  get my attention

Two banged heads when the people opposite fell asleep on each other

Four energetic children that made me sleepy just watching them

Twenty six pages read

One huge puddle to walk through to get to my car

Three speed cameras

Forty five minutes stuck in traffic

One arsehole driver

Two honking cars

One idiot driving on the wrong side of the road

Thirty two swearwords shouted

Nine songs sang out loud to calm down

Thirteen shopping bags filled with food packed into the car picking my mum up on the way home

One lovely conversation with someone I love

One hundred and ninety six words written…and counting

One piece of good news

Four unexpected days sooner than we thought

Three hundred and thirty four I love you’s

Three hundred and twenty seven I miss you’s

Thirty minutes of The Simpsons

Eleven yawns

One skype call before bed

Sixty six tears

Eight hours sleep (if there are no nightmares or confusion of an empty bed)

One exhausting day

One tired girl


Sweet Freedom!

I have officially finished my final exams of my final year!

Apologies for my lack of blogging but I refused to let the final push and hurdle defeat me and put my everything into revising. This post is more of  a personal one as I need to let my brain recharge and recover from my final exams to be able to go into debate mode. Yesterday was my last official academic day at university, I felt like I was in a dream most of the day as a result. My last academic day at university ended  with the Big e awards at my university which are a big deal, or so I’m told. They served amazing goat cheese, on some other cheese all on a thin crunchy base canapes – they were delicious. Amazingly I won an award for my work at the vTeam (which is the volunteering branch of my university, I did the media and marketing). I was, and am, incredibly proud to have been a winner and I was incredibly humbled by what was said, it was an epic way to end my ‘official’ time at university.

Today however I’m going to celebrate the end of my university career by doing nothing and enjoying the lack of guilt that comes with it. I’ll be sitting in my underwear and huge Hard Rock cafe t-shirt, watching bad TV, reading good books and playing Sims 3. I will eat cheesecake and I will just feel appreciative and grateful for the opportunities that I have been able to find at university.

My smugness will be too much for even me to endure so I’ll put on Disney films for the remainder of the day so that my singing along will detract from it. Then I might shower.

Have a wonderful Friday and normal blogging will recommence this weekend.

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Lost Brain. Replacement Planner.

Yesterday I became aware that at some point between September and now I lost my brain.

My brain...or at least the mess it left behind when I lost it.

I’m not sure where I left it. On a bus maybe? (I have lost a wardrobe worth of clothes by leaving new purchases on the bus). Unlikely now that I drive. Maybe it just dropped out of my ears, melted due to not being used as much due to the long summer months university students like myself are blessed with. Maybe my brain froze? It has been awfully cold, or maybe it’s hibernating. Maybe it was taken during the night while I slept by a mad scientist or a very quiet, discreet zombie. Possible. Maybe it just decided to leave, began packing its things as soon as I bought my little purple planner.

I have never really used a planner. Mainly because I didn’t trust my brain to get jealous if I began using other methods to plan, organise and remember my things to do (my to do lists are acceptable however because I continuously lose, rewrite then re-find them). However before the academic year started, I was walking into my final year of my degree and two student jobs. There was no way in hell I was going to remember everything I would need to do. I wandered into WHSmiths and bought myself a lovely diary, marking out each glorious day that stood before me.

It was surprisingly easy to get used to using a planner. I never lost my to do lists because I put them all inside that bad boy. It’s amazing. I can plan in advance without saying I’ll be in three different places, with different people at the same time (it’s happened so often, it’s no longer awkward for me). It’s wonderful. I can tell people straight away if I am busy. I know where to go and when. I carry my planner everywhere. If I forgot it, by some horrible turn of fate, you’d find me sobbing in the middle of the street not sure of what I was doing at what time.

I am now completely dependent on my planner. I think I have been for a while and as a result my brain gave up. Thought ‘why bother, when she has her little purple planner. She doesn’t need me anymore.’ Want to know how I know this? Because I forgot to write down a meeting I had for work yesterday at 3pm, when I checked my planner (which I do every hour or so) I saw my Tuesday as being completely free to work on essays. Which I happily did until I got text messages asking where I was for the meeting. My feeble excuse was that it wasn’t in my planner.

And that was my brain’s last dig at me, a final YOU NEED ME. So I’ve lost my mind and I’ve replaced it with a small purple planner. I can’t risk dumping the planner in case my brain is stubborn like it’s owner and wants to make me suffer. I’m hoping if I plead and apologise, my brain will return. As much as I love my planner, I love my brain more.

Brain if you’re reading this, I’m sorry for cheating on you with a little purple planner. It isn’t a betrayal, more a beautiful thing we have created together. Something that means that neither of us look stupid for forgetting something. This little purple planner hasn’t created distance between us but only made us closer. I hope you can see that. Come back brain. I miss you.

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It’s all fun and games when you’re a student(!)

I have been a university student for just over two years, I’m in my third and final year and I’ll be honest: I’m sick of being a student. When you’re a student it’s like you have a sign on your forehead, a flashing neon sign, saying ‘Student: Second class citizen’.

You’re conned when it comes to living arrangements: conditions are okay usually but you pay through the nose through it. The stigma of the ‘lazy student’ is not only insulting and condescending but completely wrong. Yet you’re lumped with it no matter what type of student you are or how many jobs or extra-curricular activities you do alongside your degree. Peer pressure is the most rife it’s ever been, the animal instinct to group and to group quickly as never been more true. You thought it was bad when you were 16? Try pretending to be grown up while being told you’re boring because you can’t down a bottle of wine in the time it takes people to sing a crappy chant.

As a student you’re made to buy a load of books, do lots of reading, lots of essays and assignments, hours of revision and have many tiring and usually confusing classes. I’m not saying it’s so much harder than working full time or anything like that but university is just as difficult. You never stop thinking about the work you have to do, things you want to apply for, what happens after university and all that scary stuff. There’s the fun things too; like deciding on your costumes for a dressing up night, what night to go out on and what opportunities and societies you want to join.

Obviously being a student isn’t all bad. It’s fun, hectic, stressful, vibrant and full of opportunity, if you just take some time to look. It’s not the greatest years of your life like many claim. That, to me, is a little disheartening. If university are the best three years of your life then the future would suck. It may be the best three years of your life SO FAR but it’s only the beginning. Technically university is just a glorified boarding school for slightly older people.

The thing is though, with being a student you’re in that weird grouping of not being a ‘proper’ adult nor being a child at school. You find yourself in the vicious cycle of trying to prove you’re a grown up and taking the first steps to the rest of your life whilst falling into all the pitfalls that show that you’re just not there yet.

The truth is university is hard. In the pamphlets and prospectuses they give to potential students they forget to mention that you’re actually at university to get a degree. And getting a a high classmark for your degree is not easy. It’s hard, it requires commitment an dedication. It may be advertised as constant boozy fun and that’s a part of it too but essentially it’s bloody damn hard. The best thing you learn is self motivation (ironic considering my last post, I know), not how to escape a hangover (because, quite frankly, that’s impossible anyway).

I have loved, correction: am loving, university. It’s been an experience. It hasn’t always been easy; I’ve had huge highs and lousy lows but I would do it all over again and I’d recommend university to anyone (even with the rising fees). You don’t just get a degree out of it, you learn a lot about yourself too. So no, it’s not all fun and games when you’re a student; that would defeat the purpose of university quite frankly if there wasn’t some mundane and difficult stuff in there. But it’s worth it.