And let the games begin!

I’m not particularly patriotic but what with the Diamond Jubilee and the Olympic’s coming to London, it’s been a pretty good year for Britain.

I went to see the Olympic torch twice- once in my hometown and once in the City I go to University in. It’s a once in a lifetime (or in my case, twice in a lifetime) opportunity so I thought, why the Hell not? I doubt London will ever host the Olympics again in my lifetime. Whilst it did get a little tedious waiting aaaages for the Torch to arrive, the atmosphere was incredible. Whole towns and cities turning up to witness the event- local heroes being given the chance to do something so monumental in the games, with thousands of people watching. The old and the young, coming together to watch the Torch as it travelled across the country. Schools letting kids go off to see it, or stopping lessons so they can watch it on the TV; who would have thought a flame could have such an impact on people?

My little brother made his own Olympic Torch 🙂

And now the relay has come to an end and the Games have begun, starting off with the stunning opening ceremony. I wasn’t expecting much to be honest. I was thinking, and a lot of people I know also, that the ceremony would be more like The Royal Variety Show- boring and overrated. But wow, was I proven wrong. With Danny Boyle directing the Opening Ceremony, it was brilliantly done in a truly British style. An actual interesting history lesson, the Industrial Revolution and the World Wars being stunningly and sensitively depicted through acting, dance and music. There was an amazing scene about Great Ormond Street Hospital and the NHS mixed in with children’s literature- something Britain can be incredibly proud of. The best part was that it wasn’t just professional dancers involved, real doctors and nurses also got to take part. Children’s storybook characters came alive, with the legendary JK Rowling reading in the background as Mary Poppins defeated Lord Voldemort, the Child Catcher, Cruella De Vil and Captain Hook.

There was also the typical British humour, with the Queen making her first acting appearance as she parachuted *ahem, her stuntdouble don’t be silly* with James Bond into the Olympic Stadium. And the amazing Rowan Atkinson ❀ as Mr Bean, playing Chariots of Fire! And then there was the music, British superstars like The Beatles, Arctic Monkeys, Emile Sande, Dizzee Rascal (although where was Take That?!?!?!?! đŸ˜„ </3 ).

From sporting legend Muhammad Ali to the fact that every country involved in the Olympics, for the first time ever, has female athletes on their team, it was a truly inspirational event. My favourite part being the symbolic act of sporting greats like Dame Kelly Holmes and Sir Steve Redgrave passing the torch from one generation to the next and allowing the seven nominated young athletes to light the flame of unity.

I’m actually feeling pretty proud to be British.


Kids say the funniest things

Don’t kids say the best things sometimes? Being kids, they get away with saying things adults can’t; they say things without thinking about how they can come across. Sometimes they can be evil. I feel bad now, thinking about the times when I was a shitty little kid and I would shout “I hate you” when I didn’t get my own way. Sometimes they can be sweet. Like my little brother who is always telling me that I’m his best friend (we even have a best friend handshake. And what?) or when I come home after work or from being out with my friends and he says that he really missed me. He can make me feel really guilty though. When I told him I was going back to my other house (uni) he went dead silent and wouldn’t speak to me for about five minutes. Until he piped up with, “I’ll really miss you.” D: Whyyyy?

Other times, they can be downright hilarious. Like me. I was a hilarious and modest child. I remember when I was younger and me and my family were driving behind this really, really slow old woman. In my naive way I shouted, “Oooh she’s such a kerb crawler!” Just, you know, innocently thinking that meant she was a really slow driver and was, well, practically crawling along the kerb. It was actually only in the last few years that I finally understood why my parents laughed at my joke so much. And why they told all their friends. I had, inadvertently, suggested that the poor, frail, old lady was trying to pick up a prostitute.

My little brother very recently said something very funny as well. My other brother, Ryan, the oldest of the three, is sixteen and, as most boys of that age, not very blessed in the acne department. Both my youngest brothers also have chickenpox. So Samuel, being three years old and bloody hilarious said to him,

“Ryan, do you have chickenpox?”

“Urgh? (It’s the generic grunt that teenage boys put before every sentence- or use instead of) No, I don’t.”

“What are all them spots on your face then?”

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. I think I nearly died. And so did my mum. Ryan didn’t find it quite as funny, he slammed up to his room in a sulk with another grunt and a “shut up.”

Another kid today at work amused me. She had to be about seven years old and her mum was buying “5o Shades of Grey.”

“Can I read it?”

“Erm, no darling, it’s a grown up’s book”

“Is it that book they were talking about on the radio?”


“Dirty mummy! You dirty woman!”

50 shades of grey? Doesn’t turn me on :S


This blog post was inspired by another that I recently read, What do you want to be when you grow up? by subtlekate. 

Every time I meet up with my friends recently, conversation always seems to turn to the future.

Oh God, we are going to be twenty next year, that’s only ten years until we are thirty, then we are halfway to sixty and practically dead, ooh our life is over- we are so old etc. etc. 

But seriously, I know we aren’t at any age to be moaning about being old, but life is flying by. In a few years time we will be getting proper jobs, have to pay taxes, get a house, a family, settle down. Shit.

When I was little this all seemed so far away. In year two I remember doing an assembly on, “what do you want to be when you grow up?” I said an RSPCA inspector… Not a princess or a footballer or a doctor like a normal kid but an RSPCA inspector. I still don’t really know what that involves now to be honest, nor, I think, did the teachers, but I was pretty adamant and so they let me get on with it.

As I got a bit older, I went through a variety of jobs that I wanted to do, including being an author- I wrote a fascinating story called “Charlie the chimp go’s (lovely grammar) on an adventure!” and a pop-out book about a “Scaredy-cat mum.” My longest dream, however, was to be a vet. This lasted until my sixth form induction day when I realised that there was no way in Hell I would ever be able to take Chemistry at A-Level and thus was not clever enough to become a vet and so, my Wild at Heart dream was, sadly, over.

My amazing story ❀

Then I took Psychology at A-Level, adored my cute old teacher and was in love with my Irish one- so much so that I became a complete arse-kissing teachers pet, yet still trying to be the loudest and funniest person in the class, whilst aiming for none less than one hundred percent in every essay and exam and going to every after-school revision class he did. It worked, I enjoyed the subject and was good at it and so a new dream was formed- I wanted to be a forensic psychologist!

For two and a half years I exercised this ambition- but always at the back of my mind I had my doubts- I had spent my whole life wanting to work with animals, but now I was changing to work with people? I hate people!

*Only a slight exaggeration.

My year at uni was great, I really enjoyed it and made some wicked friends but when I got to the stage where I didn’t bother going to lectures, was so unmotivated to revise or do any work I realised that I wasn’t really passionate about the subject, couldn’t see myself making a career out of it. I know, first year of freshers, who does work? Who goes to lectures? Well, I’m a massive geek. When I like something, I like to learn about it- when I did psychology at A Level I memorised two textbooks, all my class notes and additional powerpoint slides my teacher made. Sad, I know, but I’m too much of a perfectionist to learn the bare minimum.

So now I’ve gone back to what I have always loved. Animals. I imagine myself in the future abroad somewhere. I’d love to go back to Costa Rica or somewhere else in South or Central America to do some conservation work. I want to travel. I want to get everything done before I have kids. Hell, I don’t even know if I want kids!  I’ve written a bucket list that I want to fulfil, preferably whilst I’m still young. Yes, I’m going to be mainstream- YOLO- you only live once. And I intend to make the most of it.

There has to be a Harry Potter joke somewhere.

Today, I can’t be bothered to write much.

I don’t really have much to blog about today so instead, I thought I’d upload some photo’s 🙂

If you’ve been following my blog, you’d know that I have a dog. A very stupid, but very sweet Golden Retriever called Harry. And I sometimes like to wrap him up in a duvet. Just, you know, for the jokes.

But doing things like this makes him go a little weird. Actually, he just does this anyway…

It’s so irritating when he decides to roll around like this when you take him out on the lead -_-

I’ve also got four cats, one of which is still a kitten really, who has currently been banished to my room for being annoying. She keeps doing this…

Poor kid’s just trying to sleep!

So now I have her yowling at me as I type :/

And I also have three younger brothers (kill me now). Sometimes they can be sweet…


Samuel is the one on the left, he’s three years old and William is the one on the right, aged one.

A lot of the time messy…

Don’t ever feed kids chocolate cake…

We play in the park…

William playing on the swings 🙂

Samuel pulling off the pink 😛

And pose for pictures 😛

Sometimes regularly they get grumpy…

Attitude problem already!

We read stories…

Avid reading… not at all posing 😉

But, the best time of the day is BEDTIME!

Urm… cute?

Did it hurt? When you fell from heaven?

This weekend, I have heard some of THE best attempts at chatting up girls I think I’ve ever seen. It was… horrifying stunning…

Well… I was definitely stunned.

Friday night, I went out on what was a very fun and relatively messy night out and met this 28 year old man who asked me my age.

“You’re 19!? You look a lot younger, like 16?”


Not only did he insult me, he then proceeded to ask me out, despite me looking like I should still be at school and he could be my teacher.

Creepy or desperate? Both?

His chat up went something like this:

“You’re really pretty, let me take you out for a coffee?”

“Urrrrm… I think you might be a little to old for me”

“Don’t you fancy a mature man? I have experience. I know things about… things…”

*throws up*

And it didn’t end there. I went out Saturday night with a group of four other girls, just for a quiet drink and a catch-up in the pub when these two boys asked to join us. They had been watching us the whole night, which we naturally thought was hilarious and made them the brunt of many jokes throughout the night. They, stupidly, decided to ask what we were saying when they were staring over at us.

“First, what were you saying when you were staring at us?”

“We were saying how fit you girls all are. I still can’t believe we are sat with you! You are all so out of our league, we should be still sat away from you, talking about how amazing you all are! What were you saying?”

“We were just wondering why the fuck there were these freaks staring at us.”


So brutal. But, weekend made.

We also had this groom (apparently) who said his “task” was to see how many girls he could kiss, take photos of them all and show his wife-to-be. This does not make sense to me. Our excuses ranged from, “I’ve got a boyfriend,” “I’ve got a boyfriend whose a thug” and “I’m a lesbian and hate men.” Unfortunately, one of the girls wasn’t quick enough to think up a story and so now there is a lovely picture out there of her giving him a smacker.

So all in all, it was a pretty funny couple of nights out. Men might be useless at many things, but are accidental comedy gold ;P

The Good Customer Guide

Working on checkouts in a supermarket has made me hate people.

Hate people.

Not all of them. Just a lot. There are some funny moments. Like the kid who pulled out a tampon from her mum’s handbag, started waving it around and yelling “What’s this!?” I thought the woman was going to pass out from embarrassment. Or the other kid who kept asking her dad what the F word is.

But, in general, people piss me off. If you are shopping and get to a till and want to be liked, simply follow this good customer guide:

1. DON’T be a smartarse. If the cashier asks you whether you would like a bag, just say yes or no. Do not reply with some some sarcastic comment like, “Oh, well where else am I going to put my shopping? In my pockets?” My God, it’s our job to ask you. You’re supposed to reuse your own you moron.

2. If the cashier holds out their hand for your money DON’T put it on the cashier belt next to it. Why would you do that? It causes unnecessary struggling when you can’t pick the coins up. Why else would I be holding my hand out? For you to shake it? I don’t think so.

3. DON’T be rude. When the cashier says hello, bloody say hello back! Manners do not cost a thing. You might not particularly want to talk to the cashier but trust me, they sure as hell don’t want to talk to you either if you’re just going to be rude. You only have to talk to the cashier for five minutes out of your day, they have to talk to people for 8 hours of theirs. Have some courtesy.

4. DON’T get stroppy if you get an offer wrong, or picked up food without a barcode or forget to use your voucher. Your fault, not theirs, so quit yo whining.

5. DON’T bother getting the cashier to call their supervisor over if you get ID’d. They have to back up their staff so not only are you wasting their time, you’re also wasting your own and the queue of people behind you. So either have ID, or don’t bother trying it.

6. Not being racist, but seriously, when I’m on checkouts I get so many rude foreigners! You might not speak very good English, but I’m sure you can say, ‘please’, ‘thank you’ and ‘hello.’ I wouldn’t go to your country and ignore you, flap my hands and click at you, so don’t do it to me. Language barrier is no excuse.

7. DON’T try and chat the cashier up. Another personal experience that has happened an unnerving number of times to me. No, they will not give out their number to you, you creepy 40-something year old man.

8. DON’T tell the cashier to ‘cheer up’ or ‘smile’ when they are simply sitting on their till with no customers. Would you sit on your own grinning to yourself? No. It’s weird. Stop trying to get them to do it then.

9. DON’T, when someone underage has to shout ‘alcohol,’ reply with ‘yes please!’ then laugh like it’s the most original joke ever. The cashier would have heard it about 20 times already that day. Guarantee.

10. The shop shuts at 4 yes? So get out at 4! DON’T carry on your shopping then slowly mosey on over to the checkout at twenty past. The cashiers want to go home! Go shopping earlier, or go somewhere that is still open, stop taking the piss!


Rant over.