Forget diamonds…

Other than Marilyn Monroe’s song in Gentlemen Prefer Blondes, I’ve never really understood the term ‘diamonds are a girl’s best friend’. I don’t think it holds much meaning in our modern society, mainly because of the ethics behind diamond mining. However, either way, I still find that shoes hold much more value in our society than diamonds ever really have.

Every so often I go on a shoe binge, whilst my purhcases have not been quite so expensive, it’s safe to say that my tastes remain almost rigidly expensive. My passion for shoes far outweighs my passion for anything else, and I can safely say taht these shoes (pictured above) are the most beautiful and lust-worthy I’ve ever seen. I find the collection the most versatile offerings Manolo Blahnik have offered in the past few years. The four pictured above are a few of my favourite, but the rest of the collection features styles which can be worn in a varied range of every day goings on. All photos are featured in the Manolo Blahnik Spring/Summer 2010 collection and the first photo is from the ’structure’ collection. Whilst the designer stated that their ‘wildest dreams’ were followed, I can’t help but feel that it is rather Lady Gaga inspired. It makes me laugh when people say that Lady Gaga is weird, especially when I see one of our most esteemed designers honing in on something that Gaga would eat up and spit out in a few tries. Lady Gaga has states herself that she wears clothes from the most up and coming designers; she as a new musician was given a chance, so why shouldn’t she give brand new designers a chance? Granted, Blahnik is not a new designer but these outlandish styles favoured by Gaga eventually filter down to something we find ourselves wearing on nights out – easily purchased in high street stores. For example…

Priscilla by Boutique @ Topshop £120

These Priscilla Sandals by Boutique at Topshop are but only one of many pairs of shoes directly inspired by the ’structure’ trend flowing through the fashion walls this year. I could seriously imagine Gaga herself wearing these on stage, they have many of the ‘modern’ trends she craves in her Monster Ball tour, starting in the UK this year.  Anyway, back to Blahnik…

You may not feel like wearing these structured heels because they seem quite outlandish and go against the flow of every day fashion, but who can safely say they wouldn’t feel amazing in these heels? They are on the cusp of legendary status in the fashion world; they hone in on the uber-modern and get it in one. They’re amazing.

A part from the second pair of shoes in the Manolo Montage, the rest aren’t really much to write home about; the major styles; studs, pastels and mixing of light/dark colours in a gladiator type style have been done by so many designer and high street stores, as has the second pair, but what I like most about this style is the fact that it seems very un-Manolo. I’m not sure if any hardcore fashionistas would agree, but I find them more highstreet than anything else? They remind me of summer office wear, but also something you could wear with a simple summer dress and head out on the town during the day – they seem rather elegant, but also not at the same time. I think that’s what make them so compelling to me; I crave a heel that can make the day to night transition.

In other news, I’ve purchased some beautiful footwear of my own these past few weeks. About three weeks ago I purchased these:

Dorothy Perkins, £40

I wasn’t too sure about them at first because they are seriously high heels. I’m already a not so modest five foot ten and a half and these heels make me taller than My Boyfriend who, at six one, obviously boasts height, so I decided that instead of being uber-tall I’d send them back from where they came and buy something with a slightly lesser heel. However, with the Paris drama, the London trip and spending a week in the company of mine and My Boyfriend’s parents, I’ve found that 28 days has come and gone and I’m left with a pair of sexy heels. So, last night I decided to put them on and strut about the house, much to the amusement of My Boyfriend who found my initial tentative baby steps rather amusing, but I’m finding my confidence that comes with being a million foot tall, rather empowering and sexy. I also find that the extra height makes my legs look fantastic – which is always a plus!

Also, after the blow of not being able to go to Paris, I found myself wandering aimlessly around shoe shops for something that would make me smile. Nothing really screamed ‘purchase’ at me until I wandered into Faith and found these absolute stunners:

Faith, £40 (reduced from £60)

I didn’t really know what to think when I saw them on the shelf, but I knew that the whole horse riding theme was extremely on trend and in spite of the suede material and beautifully shaped top of the boot, I realised that these were about to (if they already hadn’t) splash onto the scene with extreme fashion ferocity. In short, I find them beautiful. Even if when we were in London, they made my walk through Regents Park and the zoo extremely uncomfortable, I still looked at them with immense pride; my first pair of boots which I really and truly adore. I find them extremely versatile too; I think they look good dressed up in a bodycon dress/skirt or simply in jeans and a top for a daytime look. I’m seriously tempted to go back and buy some more, there are really a few pairs I’d like to get my hands on so I can enjoy this late winter/spring season and then re-wear them again in winter 2010 for a slightly, albeit premature, retro feel.

I also bought a pair of heels from Primark for only £19 which are, again, a suede material platform heel but with gold studs and thus rather on trend this season; I find them quite versatile too and give me more than enough reason to hone in on the nude trend that’s extremely fashionable this season; especially teamed with the bodycon skirt, or even in order to ‘punk up’ as the saying goes, a girly floral/nude dress. Love it!

More in due time, fashion lovers, until then I bid you adieu. x

One simple purchase.

I’ve never been a huge fan of the body-con trend. I always thought that on my body, the trend would make me look more like a mother seal than anything else. However, when I was in London this weekend, I noticed two black body-con skirts which echoed the ever popular Hervel Leger trend, and even more amazingly, the skirt I picked up first was in my size.

I have this superstition, that if I find something on a rail I like and the first item I pick up is in my size, I have to buy it. It’s fashion fate, I feel. So, I decided to buy it just to see. I mean, I may as well have for £7.99!

I didn’t really know what to expect when I tried it on; I’m not the biggest fan of my body even though My Boyfriend tells me I’m beautiful. When I – rarely – look at myself in a full length mirror without any clothes on, I focus on my wobbly belly and my slightly too big hips and the fact that I’m SO pale I look like I’m wearing a body cast. I didn’t have high hopes for my body-con efforts, but figured for the price I might as well give it a go.

When we got back to the hotel I put on my new tights, my new grey knee high socks and the skirt with my black and white oversized cropped tee and looked in the mirror. To my surprise, my stomach was reasonably flat; you could see my pot, but it didn’t make me look morbidly obese like I thought it would. I’m not saying that I am, actually, morbidly obese, but as any insecure 21 year old; I feel it most days.

My body-con venture has thus been successful and I’ve barely had it off my back since I got back. I love it, it’s so versatile. It looks good with my suede, black knee high boots, it looks good with my electric blue ballet pumps and I’m sure it’ll look amazing with my electric blue/silver peep toe sandals and suede black peet toes with gold studs – day or night, I’m sure I can find something to go with it. I’m excited to see what will go with it in my wardrobe; both day and night time looks. It’s my most exciting purchase.

Usually, I buy outfits or, shoes, bags and accessories to go with things I already have in order to spruce them up, bring them on-trend, as it were. But, I’ve never really bought anything that is so versatile. Or, not that I’ve noticed. My recent purchases have been more versatile than anything I’ve bought before, but it’s mainly dresses I can wear from day through to night, rather than something that can change so much by simply adding a blazer or a leather jacket and heels.

I feel quite geeky that I’ve gushed over a black skirt for so long, but it’s my favourite new purchase! I’ve many other new purchases I could probably talk about for hours, but most of them were bought for my Parisian adventure so I’m still unable to talk about them without feeling sad (seriously).

For those who are wondering where the hell my London weekend blog is – with pictures – sorry. I’ve spent all night trying to upload the pictures onto Facebook for family and friends to see, so I really need a lot of time to sit back and sift through them – talk about the things I really would like to talk about rather than just ramble. It was a pretty good weekend for many reasons, not just because I was in LDN.

London, Baby!

Hello all,

I’m in London! Having an absolute blast. Thought I’d update my blog with stuff we’ve done so far so I don’t forget! We came via train yesterday from Newcastle to King’s Cross. We had to get on the underground from there to Paddington before working out a way – walking – to get to the hotel without a map or a street address! We managed surprisingly well and got to the Shaftsbury Hotel for about three o clock and then chilled for a long time before going out for our anniversary meal!! We went to a seriously beautiful Italian restaurant just up the road; it was very traditional and alarmingly – all male waiters! I had a sardine in garlic butter starter followed by the most delectable swordfish I’ve ever eaten; my fish knife melted into it, it was so, so good! Unfortunately, it wasn’t a massive anniversary night as we were both smashed from the waking up early/train journey so we were in bed by ten!

Today we woke up at half seven to get ready before leaving the hotel at half past eight. We took a lovely walk through Hyde Park, seeing random lovely things (mostly trees and water) before stopping off at the Serpentine Restaurant for breakfast. Tuna and rocket baguette and some water! We then walked on towards St James’ Park as our walk route indicated we needed to go there to get to the London Aquarium, which was our first stop off of the day. However, we ended up coming across various beautiful war memorials and eventually Buckingham Palace! I’ve seen it on TV so many times, but it was seriously, seriously thrilling to see the Queen’s gaff up close and personal, it’s lush! The monument opposite is pretty beautiful too, I love the Queen Victoria statue behind it, facing Westminster. It’s pretty amazing, photos aplenty!

We then obviously walked towards Westminster, saw Big Ben, Westminster Abbey etc and then walked towards the Westminster Bridge, seeing the London Eye and our final destination; the aquarium. That was a fab little stop off, it was full of lovely fishies and I was very surprised/excited at the sight of some really big sharks! Ha, it sounds very immature to say so, but a geeky obsession of mine when I was younger happened to be sharks and I have done various projects on the subject, which is another geeky revelation!

After that, we headed towards the London Dungeons, which was our second main attraction of the day. We had to hop on the Underground at Waterloo and got off at London Bridge. I unfortunately didn’t get to go past London Bridge, but did see the entrance to Borough Market, which if we have time, I’d like to go back to. Finding the Dungeons was really easy, actually, I’m finding myself quite good at finding these locations with the help of a map, it’s rather easy!

Anyway, the Dungeons were fantastic! It was so dark inside, I was instantly suspensful and clutching onto My Boyfriend for dear life. The actors were amazing, as were the historical aspects of the journey; I loved the Sweeny Todd part as well as the Jack the Ripper, it was really interesting! The only thing marring the whole journey was, sadly, the foreign tourists. They had absolutely no sense of politeness. They didn’t wait to get through a door, they pushed even though we were all going the same way and even spoke through the speeches the actors were given. SO rude.

The funniest/best parts were when we were in the docks with the judge and My Boyfriend was ‘accused’ of winking at the judge (the lady called him a winker, which would be seriously accurate, give or take a couple of letters) and when we were waiting to go into the Jack the Ripper part, the man said to me ‘oh, you’re taking a night off I see, love, good for you’ – trust me to be accused of being a prostitute!  The ultimate amazing part of the whole show was the ride at the end, we were ‘hung’ so to speak and taken up on one of those rides that takes you slowly to the top and then drops you at high speed! We bought the photo at the end of the ride because it seriously is so hilarious. I had to put my glasses in my pocket and all you can see on the photo is me – without specs – squeezing my eyes shut and screaming my head off and My Boyfriend happens to look slightly Chinese, which is also funny, especially seen as he screamed.

We then decided to go to The Globe Theatre on the riverside. I didn’t really want to do a tour, but I’m so glad we did. I knew every bit of information the tour guide told us, but My Boyfriend didn’t and I think he caught a little bit of the Shakespeare bug that I’ve had my whole life! It was so exciting to be inside a piece of history, even if the Globe isn’t the original! We were then going to head back to Westminster and have a trip up the London Eye, but we didn’t because our feet were aching and all we wanted to do was get in, bathed and then out to the Aberdeen Steak House we found on the way back to the hotel!

Such a good day, can’t wait for tomorrow! Our main plan is to go to Madama Tussaud’s and then to London Zoo and then see what else we can squeeze in! I’m excited, of course. If I have time, I’ll post another blog!

Lots of love, x

Je t’aime, but it wasn’t meant to be.

Turns out I’m no longer going to Paris. Ugh, just writing that sentence made my heart lurch in regret and longing. Due to the passport offices’ incompetancy, My Boyfriend shelled out his hard earned pennies to take me to the passport office. That’s it. We won’t even make it to the airport because our government is FAR too concerned allowing potential/actual terrorists to apply for passports, visas, citizenship etc etc etc, to actually bother their arse about fully a fledge English gal whose devoted Boyfriend wanted to take her away to the most romantic city in the world for their anniversary. I’m seriously resisting the urge to swear like a sailor and call them the words I know you’re all thinkng in your heads. See you next Tuesday seriously comes to mind.

I may not have minded so much if the woman who dealt me the huge and heartbreaking blow hadn’t been an ugly bitch the size of a house with a similar attitude to that of a mouldy, soggy sponge. I don’t think I, nor my Boyfriend’s mother, deserved to be talked to like we were five years old, to be constantly told to look in the manual instead of her actually informing us herself of why I can’t apply for an emergency passport because the passport office are thick as two planks of wood and messed up my original application, which was sent TWO WEEKS BEFORE CHRISTMAS! Not only that, the stupid cow actually contradicted herself so many times in one “explanation” but felt justified in saying them because of some prissy, orange faced slag who sat there saying ‘yeah she’s right, you can’t contradict us cos we’re on the other side of the desk, ookaaaay” I wanted to lean over and rip their eyes out with my fingers. Slowly, painfully, illegally.

So now, we’ve sent my passport off to be processed – if nothing goes wrong (WHICH I DOUBT) I may, may have it within six weeks, post interview and everything. Well done British government, you’ve truly lived up to and surpassed my expectations, and believe me they were damned low to start with.

I feel so awful. I feel awful that I won’t be able to walk the streets of Paris and climb up to the Eiffel Tower on the evening of our anniversary, smooching under the stars and lights of the tower and I’m beyond sad for My adoring and fabulous Boyfriend, who planned this whole thing. Instead of causing a fuss and saying ‘look I paid a fortune to be able to do this for the woman I love FOR HER BIRTHDAY’ he just pulled me into his arms as I wailed hopelessly into his chest. I also feel beyond sorry for his amazing, beautiful mam who has done SO much for us with regards to this holiday, and everything else we do together to be honest. I love her with all my heart and I feel wretched that she is blaming herself for us being unable to go when there is no one else to blame except the incompetant bumbling fools who attempt to run our country. God help us all. I’m also to blame, of course, which my mam pointed out to me when I got home today, ‘well, if you’d gotten all the bloody hints we’d kept dropping you since, like SEPTEMBER, you’d have been all ready to go now, wouldn’t you?’ Yeah, thanks mam, I didn’t think of that myself. I didn’t curse myself and call myself a stupid bong eyed slut either, so I’m glad you pointed it out so I can do it all now too.

The only good thing about this whole thing is the amount of cuddles I’ve been getting. I love cuddles. Attention too for that matter so I like being the poor little unfortunate lamb. Sort of. I’d much rather be the lucky git off to Paris for an amazing weekend, but c’est la vie. So is life.

Although, as the old saying goes, every cloud has a silver lining (is that it?) and ours is that instead of going to Paris, we are (maybe) going to London (!!!) then going to Paris in the springtime! Smile! So, instead of jet setting off to gay olde Paris where the stripes are abundant and the bread is croissant-y, we’re considering going to London, staying in a beautiful four star hotel with lovely views of Hyde Park and going, perhaps, to the MOTHER OF ALL TOPSHOPS on Oxford Street and doing the British tourist thing! Plus, everyone will speak English (more or less) so we’ll be able to unfurrow our brows and not have to say ‘mais oui, tout souit!’ (spelling?) to everyone we pass.

Leave me alone, I’m lonely…

I’ve recently realised how lonely I am. I’ve noticed that I spend most of my days alone and find myself looking at the time, hoping for the hours to go faster so that I can spend time with someone. I’ve also realised that the only two people I EVER spend time with are My Boyfriend (only at night times recently) and Favourite Homosexual. Don’t get me wrong, I adore them both with all of my heart; they’re fabulous and make me constantly happy, but I would just like to feel less alone.

Because My Boyfriend works quite late and all day on wekends, he is constantly tired when he gets in so he goes to sleep pretty early. As a consequence of this, it makes me desperate to move in to our new place so I can at least not have to sit in the same room as him when he’s snoring next to me. I feel like I have to go to bed too, or at least sit in relative silence, preferably with the light off so I don’t disturb him. I don’t blame him, of course, I just really hate feeling so alone. It reminds me of when I was single and hating it; when all I did was sit in my room at my parents hous and lament about feeling ugly, fat and that all men hated me. It was a boring life and I didn’t realise that being in a relationship, living with someone (albeit predominantly in one bedroom) meant that I had to go back to that. I am not really sure what I want, exactly, but I would like to have more company than I do at the moment. Not just from him, but from my ‘friends’ too.

I’ve realised that I have ONE friend who would be there for me at the drop of a hat and vice versa. Favourite Homosexual would drop everything to hang out with me if I needed a cuddle, a drink or just to see him, and I would for him; because we love one another and, in all fairness, that is what true friends do. Through realising my very close friendship with my beloved Favourite Homosexual, it makes me resent the other friends I have a little bit; I think they take me a little for granted.

If my friends need/want me to be somewhere, they pretty much force me to go out, making me feel guilty for it if I don’t. Or, they constantly text me and try to change my mind. Or, if they ask me to do something and I cancel last minute, they automatically blame my relationship rather than put it down to me simply not being in the mood. This then makes me question my relationship; do I spend too much time with My Boyfriend? I don’t think so. I mean, evidently not if I find myself up at three in the morning, lamenting my lonliness as My Boyfriend snores beside me. Because of my growing feelings of lonliness and genuine missing of My Boyfriend, then I will ditch my friends if need be in order to spend time with him. Rightly so, too! After the many years of being friends with certain people, I can safely say I’ve hung out with them a handful of times in my own right and the rest of them have just been birthday things, gigs, nights out or whatever and have not been ‘genuine’ spending time with someone; which gives me more reason to ignore them in order to spend time with My Boyfriend and Favourite Homosexual.

I may sound selfish when I say this, but can I really say that my friends would have the same courtesy as I do for them? Would they come out for my birthday (no, not really) or just come out for a drink or to spend time with just me. No, they wouldn’t as I’ve experienced more than a few let downs, unanswered texts and genuine ignoring of me. I’m no where near the top twenty nevermind anywhere higher on the list. So, the next time they want me to go out for their birthday party, gig or whatever it may be I’m going to tell them I have a date with myself; sitting alone watching Sex and the City.

Fuck everyone else, I’ll just learn to spend time by myself, and my two boys – they really are the most important people in my life.

Waking up starkers & uncontrollable hiccups.

I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m not really an alcohol person. Before you guffaw in disbelief at your computer screens, covering it rather unnecessarily in spit, half-chewed food and quite possibly a beverage of some sort, let me continue. Like I said, I’m not an alcohol person, I’m a wine person. I came to this rather bizarre conclusion today as I was lying in bed trying to get rid of my hangover.

It started out with me lying on my side, huddled under the blankets in a foetal like position, staring manically at the almost empty litre bottle of vodka which stood staring at me in the most aggressive, Russian way. I thought to myself, ‘I’m not a vodka person, vodka does nothing for me but give me hiccups and make me forget every single thing I’ve done the previous night’ which is true. It does give me the most ridiculous hiccups, the kind of hiccups which are impossible to get rid of because when you try holding your breath, another one decides to make its way through your body and out of your mouth causing you to make the most ridiculous noise ever made by anyone, anywhere. It also does make me forget every single thing I’ve done the night before as I found out this morning when I woke up, feeling not only hung over but strangely uncomfortable and wrong, somehow. I felt around under the covers and realised I was stark bollock naked. Obviously horrified that I’d slept naked and couldn’t remember why, I felt the need to ask My Boyfriend when he came back from the bathroom. Laughing, he told me that I’d gone in the shower, came back and without even bothering to dry myself, dropped the towel, crawled into bed and cuddled up him, soaking wet.

‘Did I get showered?’ I asked, because I honestly couldn’t remember stepping foot in the bathroom, never mind stripping off and jumping in the shower. After he told me that, yes I had, I thought hard and the remembered getting in the shower, sitting down in the shower and smacking my head off the wall. I felt the back of my head and it stung a little bit, thus it obviously happened and wasn’t a day dream. ‘What else did I do?’ I asked and began to panic as flashes of ridiculousness came back to smack me in my sober/hung over face. I remembered walking into the house after I’d seen my friend’s band, Saint and the Cynics and saying ‘hello! Hello!’ to a house mate and then something I can’t remember, but probably completely ridiculous as I finished up with, ‘you know, because I’m a lovely person. Not that you aren’t, but I’m just really lovely.’

Oh, God.

As My Boyfriend began telling me tid bits of the evening, like me saying I was going for air in the club we were in and then shouting at him to STAY PUT when he offered to keep me company, or me pushing a random person because he happened to be accidentally pushing our friend’s girlfriend, then when he turned around waving stupidly at him for absolutely no reason or when he followed me outside to see me walking around randomly without aim whilst talking to my musical friend on the phone (I can’t remember doing this), I began looking for my phone. I needed my glasses first though and couldn’t remember where I’d put them at all, and panicked thinking one of the people staying over had stolen them. Why anyone would steal a pair of glasses is beyond me, but I honestly thought a Ralph Lauren obsessive had found them in the bathroom or something and taken them with them to their weird polo-shirt loving world. My Boyfriend found my glasses – behind the TV – and gave them to me, as well as handing me my phone and I looked through my sent items. I’ve befriended and text someone called ‘Shazam’, whoever that is and I’ve also text my lovely friends some weird, weird stuff. It surprises me that any of them are speaking to me today.

So, I’m not a vodka person. I’m not a fan of whiskey, so that rules whiskey out and I’m also not a gin person, as I found out last year after consuming an entire bottle one night in an old man’s pub with My Boyfriend. I’m sure I’ve mentioned this before but for those who haven’t heard about it:

I ended up slumped against My Boyfriend’s best friend, telling them I needed to go home.

I got the taxi to pull over in the middle of the road, outside of a primary school, so I could hang out the car (seatbelt stopped me from actually falling out) and being sick all over the road.

When I got home I ignored all of my family, stumbled up the stairs banging my entire right side off the wall, somehow, managed to undress and shower and fell into bed. I woke up the next day quite early and showered again, tried to drink something and couldn’t before going back to sleep. My Boyfriend then rang me to tell me he was coming to pick me up to take us back to our house in Heaton in about five minutes. I managed to ignore the hangover, gather some clothes and make up before heading out the door to wait for him. I looked atrocious in my leggings, weird woollen ugg boot type things a checky shirt and a massive hoody accompanied by wet hair and no make up. Typical bag lady person.

Then, as My Boyfriend’s mam drove us home, I had to get her to pull over on a busy road in Newcastle as I got out and threw up all over the car park of a mattress shop, being watched by commuters on buses, in cars, on lorries on their way to work. It wouldn’t have been so mortifying had my shirt not lifted up and my leggings had fallen down slightly to reveal a builder’s bum to the entire shop behind me as I threw up orange liquid all over the floor.

Not only that, but when a shop worker came out to clean up the aftermath of my alcoholic binge, My Boyfriend’s mam panicked and told the shop assistant that I couldn’t help being sick in public because I was pregnant. So, not only did I look and feel atrocious, I had some random man believing I was in this horrible badly dressed, throw-y up way because I was up the duff with a baby.

So, I’m not really a gin person, either. I’ve never drank too much Southern Comfort in one sitting, so I think that’s still safe for the occasional tipple but I’ve decided to stick whole-heartedly to wine in the future.

Yes, wine makes me do crazy things, say crazy things and dance weirdly in public singing along to ABBA songs even if they aren’t playing, crying wildly and irrationally at adverts about donkeys, starving Africans and sometimes even adverts featuring scarecrows (he was cute!) it has never made me forget entire evenings or throw up in public or wake up naked and not know why. It must be all the grapes…fruit is good for you, after all.

This thing…

I’ve been thinking a lot about relationships recently; my own relationship, friends who are embarking on a new one or saying goodbye to an old one – both willingly and reluctantly – and it just gets me wondering how and why there are so many different interpretations of that crazy little thing called love?

When you’re single, I’ve found that people tend to be only one of two things; happy or miserable. Some people embrace their single status and use it as a beacon of their independence and others use it as a sign that they’ll never find love, either because men/women are shit or because they’re too fat/ugly/crap to find someone who wants to be with someone who is fat/ugly/crap. I think both of these happen to be the entirely wrong way to be looking at life, love and relationships. I’ve found in most situations that when women claim to be happily single they are secretly bitter, miserable and desperately seeking a man and I’ve found that women who hate being single and think they are because of their supposed shortcomings are usually right.

I’ve always chosen to live my life according to this one saying;

Unless you can find true happiness with yourself, you’ll never be able to find it with another.

It might not be the exact turn of phrase, but never-the-less, it still holds a poignant message. These women who complain about not being good enough or pretty enough, project those feelings into the dating stratosphere and are then honed in on by men who know exactly how to manipulate those feelings albeit intentionally or not. I think that’s why you find that women who are single are usually women scorned, who are depressed by man after man making them feel inadequate and thus use their singledom either to profess their hatred for fellow man or as a reason to find themselves repulsive.

I’ve been in that situation before where I’ve been single but wanted desperately for someone good looking to take an interest in me so I could say, ‘look world, beautiful people fancy me!’ Obviously it never happened as during my younger years I had the most ridiculous and horrible taste in the most geeky and disgusting of blokes, who made me feel exactly as I’ve stated above. After each relationship, each infidelity, I was left feeling more dejected, rejected and unhappy than I’d ever felt before. Until one day I came across the mantra and simply stopped feeling inadequate in any way, shape or form.

I spent a year of my life single to the max (omitting the occasional sneaky kiss) and learned a lot about myself and about what I would and wouldn’t tolerate in a partner or a relationship. If you can hack it, I urge everyone to do it at some point in their lives. It truly makes you appreciate who you are and makes you look back on past relationships with a level of scorn for your former lovers purely for the fact that they took advantage of your insecurities in order to gain the upper-hand. Obviously no relationship that makes you feel like that could ever be ‘love’, but if you’re feeling so insecure you have no where or no one to turn to except the person you’re with, you’ll feel like it soon enough.

It was then I realised what I wanted out of a relationship and almost a year to the date I stopped any form of liaison (again, a part from the odd sneaky kiss and cuddle), I found someone who embodied enough of the characteristics I wanted in someone in order to make a happy relationship. I think that I embody the characteristics he likes too, including big boobs and a pretty smile, so obviously we’re both happy.

This now brings me on to relationships.

Those same people who complain about being single, lust after a man/woman of their dreams and generally want a relationship so much it consumes the majority of their thoughts, also seem to be the type of person who can’t stay in a relationship long enough to allow it to simply flow. There are certain types of people who feel that relationships need to be constantly moving, need to change at least once a month in order for there to still be a spark there.

It then leads to people mistaking relationships for being mundane, based purely on the notion that once you’re fully settled in a relationship it becomes boring. Stale, even. They seem to think that once you’re at the stage where you’re comfortable enough putting your belongings in a drawer when you stay over (or in my case, multiple drawers and a wardrobe), sleep together every night without having sex, more often than not in flannel pjs with an over sized t-shirt featuring a really cute Disney character, opt to wear comfy bum hugging pants as opposed to the legions of sexy lingerie you’d normally wear if you knew you’d be showing it off at some point and talk to your lover about epilating your legs or needing a wax, then your relationship is in supposed need for a complete overhaul. Sometimes, even, without your lover in it.

I simply don’t get it. People constantly yearn after someone who ‘gets’ them and spend the majority of their younger life hopping from partner to partner in order to find someone with similar qualities to the one they dream about, someone who would accept them for all their shortcomings as well as everything else…so why is it that these same people are always looking for a way out? Once they’ve got it, they no longer need it?

It is quite upsetting in a way, because once you get past the shocking notion that you’ve spent a significant amount of time with someone and learned to love their annoying little habits (a part from putting worn underwear on the bed after you’ve got out the shower! – EW!) it becomes quite simply, blissful. It’s nice waking up to the same person every morning and making your way over to the crook of their arm and snuggling in and feeling, more than anything, comfortable. It’s nice knowing that you can tell how someone is feeling simply by hearing the manner in which they’re breathing. Actually having the gaul to say to a stranger, or to anyone that you’re in love is beautiful and I don’t understand why many people panic about this. I am guilty of panicking about this myself, actually. I found myself stressing lately because I am in a relationship where nothing surprises me anymore; I know everything worth knowing about My Boyfriend and the same goes for him about me. It annoys me sometimes that he knows me too well and the art of surprise would be nice to have. But then I think about how happy he has made me, the happiest I’ve ever felt, and I wonder why I’d ever even want to consider jeopardising it for the sake of starting over again one day with someone who doesn’t find my nose adorable and thus feels the need to kiss it at random intervals, someone who doesn’t love me so much he’d plan a trip to Paris purely because he knows I’ve always wanted to go or someone who puts up with my petty huffs and random strops even though it makes me look like a five year old?

I wouldn’t, and it worries me that there are some people who do simply because they feel too comfortable in a relationship. There is absolutely nothing wrong with that. We spend our whole lives looking for someone, hating ourselves for being single and going on boring date after boring date looking for someone and then when we find them, we shouldn’t be unhappy about the comfort we share with one another or the fact that we see each other every day. Sure, it gets annoying sometimes and we want to tear both our hair out, but could you really sit there and tell me that you don’t want to wake up to someone who looks at you with such intense adoration it makes your stomach flip every single time?

If you say you don’t, you’re a liar.

I’ve been thinking a lot about relationships recently; my own relationship, friends who are embarking on a new one or saying goodbye to an old one – both willingly and reluctantly – and it just gets me wondering how and why there are so many different interpretations of that crazy little thing called love?

When you’re single, I’ve found that people tend to be only one of two things; happy or miserable. Some people embrace their single status and use it as a beacon of their independence and others use it as a sign that they’ll never find love, either because men/women are shit or because they’re too fat/ugly/crap to find someone who wants to be with someone who is fat/ugly/crap. I think both of these happen to be the entirely wrong way to be looking at life, love and relationships. I’ve found in most situations that when women claim to be happily single they are secretly bitter, miserable and desperately seeking a man and I’ve found that women who hate being single and think they are because of their supposed shortcomings are usually right.

I’ve always chosen to live my life according to this one saying;

Unless you can find true happiness with yourself, you’ll never be able to find it with another.

It might not be the exact turn of phrase, but never-the-less, it still holds a poignant message. These women who complain about not being good enough or pretty enough, project those feelings into the dating stratosphere and are then honed in on by men who know exactly how to manipulate those feelings albeit intentionally or not. I think that’s why you find that women who are single are usually women scorned, who are depressed by man after man making them feel inadequate and thus use their singledom either to profess their hatred for fellow man or as a reason to find themselves repulsive.

I’ve been in that situation before where I’ve been single but wanted desperately for someone good looking to take an interest in me so I could say, ‘look world, beautiful people fancy me!’ Obviously it never happened as during my younger years I had the most ridiculous and horrible taste in the most geeky and disgusting of blokes, who made me feel exactly as I’ve stated above. After each relationship, each infidelity, I was left feeling more dejected, rejected and unhappy than I’d ever felt before. Until one day I came across the mantra and simply stopped feeling inadequate in any way, shape or form.

I spent a year of my life single to the max (omitting the occasional sneaky kiss) and learned a lot about myself and about what I would and wouldn’t tolerate in a partner or a relationship. If you can hack it, I urge everyone to do it at some point in their lives. It truly makes you appreciate who you are and makes you look back on past relationships with a level of scorn for your former lovers purely for the fact that they took advantage of your insecurities in order to gain the upper-hand. Obviously no relationship that makes you feel like that could ever be ‘love’, but if you’re feeling so insecure you have no where or no one to turn to except the person you’re with, you’ll feel like it soon enough.

It was then I realised what I wanted out of a relationship and almost a year to the date I stopped any form of liaison (again, a part from the odd sneaky kiss and cuddle), I found someone who embodied enough of the characteristics I wanted in someone in order to make a happy relationship. I think that I embody the characteristics he likes too, including big boobs and a pretty smile, so obviously we’re both happy.

This now brings me on to relationships.

Those same people who complain about being single, lust after a man/woman of their dreams and generally want a relationship so much it consumes the majority of their thoughts, also seem to be the type of person who can’t stay in a relationship long enough to allow it to simply flow. There are certain types of people who feel that relationships need to be constantly moving, need to change at least once a month in order for there to still be a spark there.

It then leads to people mistaking relationships for being mundane, based purely on the notion that once you’re fully settled in a relationship it becomes boring. Stale, even. They seem to think that once you’re at the stage where you’re comfortable enough putting your belongings in a drawer when you stay over (or in my case, multiple drawers and a wardrobe), sleep together every night without having sex, more often than not in flannel pjs with an over sized t-shirt featuring a really cute Disney character, opt to wear comfy bum hugging pants as opposed to the legions of sexy lingerie you’d normally wear if you knew you’d be showing it off at some point and talk to your lover about epilating your legs or needing a wax, then your relationship is in supposed need for a complete overhaul. Sometimes, even, without your lover in it.

I simply don’t get it. People constantly yearn after someone who ‘gets’ them and spend the majority of their younger life hopping from partner to partner in order to find someone with similar qualities to the one they dream about, someone who would accept them for all their shortcomings as well as everything else…so why is it that these same people are always looking for a way out? Once they’ve got it, they no longer need it?

It is quite upsetting in a way, because once you get past the shocking notion that you’ve spent a significant amount of time with someone and learned to love their annoying little habits (a part from putting worn underwear on the bed after you’ve got out the shower! – EW!) it becomes quite simply, blissful. It’s nice waking up to the same person every morning and making your way over to the crook of their arm and snuggling in and feeling, more than anything, comfortable. It’s nice knowing that you can tell how someone is feeling simply by hearing the manner in which they’re breathing. Actually having the gaul to say to a stranger, or to anyone that you’re in love is beautiful and I don’t understand why many people panic about this. I am guilty of panicking about this myself, actually. I found myself stressing lately because I am in a relationship where nothing surprises me anymore; I know everything worth knowing about My Boyfriend and the same goes for him about me. It annoys me sometimes that he knows me too well and the art of surprise would be nice to have. But then I think about how happy he has made me, the happiest I’ve ever felt, and I wonder why I’d ever even want to consider jeopardising it for the sake of starting over again one day with someone who doesn’t find my nose adorable and thus feels the need to kiss it at random intervals, someone who doesn’t love me so much he’d plan a trip to Paris purely because he knows I’ve always wanted to go or someone who puts up with my petty huffs and random strops even though it makes me look like a five year old?

I wouldn’t, and it worries me that there are some people who do simply because they feel too comfortable in a relationship. There is absolutely nothing wrong with that. We spend our whole lives looking for someone, hating ourselves for being single and going on boring date after boring date looking for someone and then when we find them, we shouldn’t be unhappy about the comfort we share with one another or the fact that we see each other every day. Sure, it gets annoying sometimes and we want to tear both our hair out, but could you really sit there and tell me that you don’t want to wake up to someone who looks at you with such intense adoration it makes your stomach flip every single time?

If you say you don’t, you’re a liar.

A trip to the shop for vodka.

Before I start my post. I’ve finally found out what this ‘fine’ malarky is and this is mine: 530.60
I’m not sure what this means really, but this is it…good or bad?

Earlier, I went into our local shop and the man behind the counter was uncharacteristically friendly. I think he’s so used to me and My Boyfriend going into the store to buy alcohol he’s just used to serving us and has become wonderfully friendly.

Anyway, I had an urge to drink vodka, so wandered over the shop to see if they had any Russian Standard in stock. They didn’t, so I decided upon a litre of Smirnoff to aid my craving for vodka. It has, by the way. I also decided to buy My Boyfriend eight cans just in case he fancied drinking when he got home from work, so I put them on the counter and asked for ‘the big bottle of vodka, please’.

His reaction was the most funny I’ve ever received from a shop assistant. He is of foreign descent, so obviously his take on English humour is different from ours, but it was still hilarious. Our conversation went as so:

Him: The big bottle? I’ll have to ring your dad if you want that!
Me: (laughing loudly) Oh no, don’t do that. If you ring him, he’ll only ask me to get him one too!

He laughed and went to get the vodka. Once he placed it on the counter he said:

Him: Do you know that New Year is over?
Me: New Year? It’s never over for students!
Him: Yes! And they drink vodka a night before exams and then they pass! How do they do this?
Me: I know! I think it’s proof that alcohol isn’t as bad for you as people keep telling us!

He laughed at this and then packed my bags for me. How sweet? He was the one who always threw bags at me and then said thank you over and over again until I left the shop. I think I love him, now.

What’s the name of the game?

I hear you, Andy Warhol! You big old weirdo, you.

Today I’m waiting for an arrival from both Topshop and ASOS.com and I’m already at the end of my tether. I love online shopping, but the idea of having to wait for your clothing is truly annoying. I can’t wait to hold it all in my arms, try it on and twirl in front of a mirror – marvelling at the beautiful belongings that are now mine all mine!

I’ve been awake since eight when My Boyfriend got up to go to uni (I don’t start until next week, thank you humanities dep’t!) and have been sat here waiting ever since. I had some Special K and messed about on Facebook, which took all of half an hour and since then I’ve been differing between refreshing my UPI tracking details – nothing changed – and looking out of the window for delivery type vehicles – none so far.

Why is it, that when we are expecting something from a company they can take all day to turn around and actually get it sent out to you, but the moment they want something in return, it has to be done almost ASAP? Like, for example, Orange. My stupid, bastard phone company. They cut me off on Saturday because for the past few months I’ve refused to pay my bills on the ground that although I don’t go over my minutes/texts or use mobile internet or anything, I am still paying nearly forty pound a month, when I am contracted to be paying twenty. When I complained they said that I only needed to pay twenty – which I didn’t, as further punishment – and all of a sudden I owed them £101.91 tossers. My Boyfriend eventually made me relent, ring up and actually pay the one hundred and one pounds, but I did it with an attitude, so further to solidify my disgruntled state of mind with the stupid phone company.

It’s the same with everything, though, isn’t it? You want a dress from a certain shop, but they don’t have your size so they have to order in, it can take up to a week to receive it in store and then you have to make some free time in order to go and collect it, try it on and by – they can only hold it for so long, you see. BUT, when it comes to you taking the dress back, for whatever reason it may be, you have to do it within a certain time limit and have all these reasons why.

Sorry for the random, wait hate rant. I am just not too accustomed to waiting for people or having to stop my plans in order to listen out for the door. There are seven other people in the house, but I don’t want them feeling my new stuff.

Anyway, today I am going out for sushi and the cinema with my beloved. I’m looking forward to sushi, actually. I’ve tackled my healthy regime head on and am doing very well so far. I already feel less bloated due to no fizzy drinks/alcohol and haven’t had a single urge to snack at all, even last night when I got the late night munchies. I’m a trooper.

2010, good morning.

My first blog of 2010 and we’re already into day 12. Actually, it’s just started. My apologies, faithful readers for not updating you with information which, in all reality is hugely pointless other than to those who actually care about me. Ie. My Boyfriend, who seems to be rather unappreciative of my lack of updates. Sorry sweets.

Anyway, I hope everyone’s festive period was fun-filled, alcoholic and above all, enjoyable! I had an excellent Christmas and New year, best I’ve had in a long, long time! The past few years I seem to have been stuck in a perpetual state of depression from which alcohol was my only saviour! It tends to happen when you’re dumped, called fat by the fattest man you’ve ever encountered, wear polo necks and have a vegetarian sister who was shrinking by the second. She’s fine now, all beautiful and sexy, but at the time caused me a lot of sorrow/worry. Alcohol was my saviour this year too, but in a purely positive way! I got to spend Christmas with my family, My Boyfriend’s family – who in all fairness ARE my family, I love them all so very much – my sister, her boyfriend and of course, My Boyfriend. Blissful.

Being back home with my parents also allowed me to fully appreciate the inches and inches of snow we received! In spite of all the complaints, which thanks to the news has been the sole topic of complaint for all the band wagon hopping hypocrites who secretly adore snow! I have fully and thoroughly enjoyed it, it has been beautiful! It allowed for me to throw snowballs, kiss in the snow and wear my lovely pink and butterfly print wellies I love oh so much. I’m now back in Heaton and here there only seem to be slush and ice so my happiness has wavered somewhat. It’s funny, because we Britons complain every year about our lack of festive weather, we don’t get them like they used to, you often hear them cry. But as soon as we do, they complain that it’s “too much”, just like if we get unprecedented amounts of warmth in the summer, it’s suddenly “too hot”. I simply don’t understand.

Anyway, back to interesting, non-snow related topics.

If you’ve read my previous blog, you’ll know that My Boyfriend has booked us both up for a long weekend in Paris for our anniversary! We fly on the 28th and arrive at about two/three local time and we come back on the Monday night. It allows for us to spend a long few days and nights soaking up the Parisian culture, seeing things I’ve longed to see (The Louvre, Eiffel Tower, Moulin Rouge!) I’m so terribly excited to go and spend a few blissful days with the most amazing person I know, speaking french, eating croissants and drinking le vin rouge. Oui, oui.

My wardrobe seems to have taken a turn for the French, also. I’ve purchased a few black and white striped items, including an oversized crop looking t-shirt from Topshop and a bright red vest with PARIS written on it (A replaced with an Eiffel Tower, which is brilliant). I also feel the need to buy a beret, wear red lipstick and take up smoking, set fire to a Parisian cinema house full of Germans and shoot a Nazi. Ah, Quentin Tarantino has warped my mind. I also bought a lovely pair of knee-high leather boots and a pair of shoe boot/sandal type things which are grey suede with a big cuff on them, which is beautiful.

I’m sorted in the bag / designer department, which is largely due to my parents’ and sister’s birthday/Christmas gifts! For my twenty-first, my mama and papa bought me a gorgeous jade green Guess leather bag with a huge silver emblem on the front. It has a peace sign encrusted with diamantes, wings and a crown, which is largely biker themed, I think. There is also a bag charm with a huge peace sign on it too, which is nice, but clinks off the metal emblem if I don’t position it right! My sister bought me the matching leather purse, with a smaller version of the main emblem on it too, which I love. On Christmas day, I opened a lovely Julian McDonald clutch bag, which isn’t a clutch but just shaped like one (visual stimulae, right there), with a gorgeous blue/turquoise and black zebra print pattern sprinkled with lashings of gold glitter, a huge JM emblem, in blue, black and gold glitter and a gold chain – stunning. So they will be coming to Paris too. I just need to find two/three killer dresses, team them with what I already have and off I go, beautifully Paris’d up.

In other news, inspired by something I saw on a geeky computer tv programme, I’ve decided to make my 21st year of living something truly memorable and I think that my blog will allow for an outlet that can truly cultivate everything I need to remember. I’m going to start making use of my camera again and start taking pictures of things that inspire me, evoke thoughts/words of interest and just document my life – pictures and words together so I can look back on this in a few years time and think, ‘yes, my life was fabulous that year’. I’m excited. I imagine I’ll be keeping you all up to date with my new weight loss regime, which has really only begun today.

I’ve decided that my weight loss/get fit scheme is not going to take over my life. I’m still going to eat/drink the things I like, but in moderation and in smaller portions. I will still go out for crab cake, steak, ice cream and have nights out where I drink so much wine I can’t see anymore, but I’ll make sure to work it all off the next day (or when the hangover has subsided). I don’t like the idea of people stopping the things they enjoy solely to be thin, I’m not interested in that. I’m not particularly interested in being thin. I would just like to lose a few pounds and become more comfortable with my appearance.

So that is all you need to know, really. I’ll try to keep you updated. There’ll not be any photo updates this week as I foolishly left my camera at home, but you’ll see something in the near future, hopefully! Love, x