A very strange dream.

I’m prone to having very odd, very weird dreams. And last night, well, lived up to that standard and was too strange to not post. Not really sure what it says about my mind.

I was on holiday with my friend, doing all the lovely holiday things (we went to some weird places but I can’t really remember the details), taking lots of photos. Next thing I know, I was in the desert with my dad and my little brother, walking away from a big crowd. I turned and saw none other than… ANT AND DEC! Super excited, I begged with my dad to go back. He wasn’t having it, but I couldn’t let an opportunity to meet Ant and Dec be missed!!! So, I went back and had a nice chat with Dec as Ant had gone off somewhere. My dad and little brother had given in and came to find me. Dec tried to say hello to my little bro-seph (he’s five, by the way) but he got shy. So I told him that he was the man on TV that pranked people. Cue big hug.

The next thing I know I’m back at school and my new timetable tells me that on Friday’s I have period one and period two of “Sherlock” with my teacher being Benedict Cumberbatch (massive love for him). Very, very excited I went to assembly and sat down. To which, BENEDICT CUMBERBATCH sat next to me. Massive girly swoon. However, turns out he was drunk. He kept lying across the chairs and quoting a hell of a lot of Sherlock Holmes to me. I was very sad as I knew he would be too hungover to teach Sherlock 😦

I finally ended up back with my friend, still on holiday, yet outside a bar that is from where I live. My friend told me that she had seen Johnny Depp (another of my future husbands) go into the bar before. Determined to find him, we loitered outside playing table football… yes, there was a table football table on the pavement. And lo and behold, the beautiful Johnny Depp walked out of the house next door and straight into the bar. I was watching him through the window as he played pool and he saw me looking. I politely asked for a autograph and a photo, which he laughed and accepted… LIFE MADE. But as I climbed in through the window- doors aren’t good enough for me- he shouted, “Oh My God, they saw me! What if other people have seen me!?” I thiiiink they were making the bar into a drug den. Johnny pulled out a gun (very much like the one from POTC) and put it against my head, “If you tell anyone, or show anyone the photos we are about to take, I will eat ALL of your fingers!” I distinctly heard someone shout, “He finks ‘e’s Jack Sparra!” Once I agreed to not tell anyone, we went to chill out on the beach and Johnny kept asking me really deep and meaningful questions as we tried to take photos with him. He then went through my friends camera and saw a really cool 2 second clip of a roller-coaster and lights flying everywhere. “Make sure you upload the pictures of the trolls,” he said, “I want them for my Facebook page.”

Aaaand, then I woke up. Definitely one of my stranger dreams. Life lesson: never meet your heroes?



I have been very naughty recently and haven’t blogged in aaaages, probably losing myself a number of followers, but strangely, getting more views…

Please don’t leave me, please, I’m really sorry I won’t do it again, I’ll be better next time!

Anyway, I’ve had a bit of a writer’s block. Still do as a matter of fact, so I apologise in advance for an incredibly boring first post back. Some might assume I’ve been on terribly exciting bear hunts or trekking through the Amazon or travelling to some far-away, exotic land. Surely the only excuses not to blog, right?


I’ve been stuck at home, watching The Big Bang Theory (my new Glee) and working. I’ve been working 7 days straight and still have 3 more to go before I get 1 day off. Exciting yes? I did get called a wanker at work however, which really made me remember how much I love my job and how much I adore people. Gosh, remind me why I chose to work with animals instead?

And I swear to God, I always end up serving the dumb-asses of my town at work as well! One woman asked me, in all seriousness, whether she could use her card in the cash machine. 


Apart from feeling suicidal from work, I stole my mum’s copy of Fifty Shades of Grey to get down with the crowds and start reading it. Obviously skipped to the naughty bits because I’m kinky to see what all the fuss is about. I’m actually a little scarred for life and I quietly put the book back in my mum’s room. I don’t think I can read it all the way through knowing that my mum loves them. It just makes me feel a little sick.

And now I’m going to kill a fly that is noisy and annoying. BAI.

Reasons behind a twisted mind.

I’ve decided to have a long, hard and incredibly deep (ooh cheeky) look at myself with the ultimate aim to work out why others might perceive me as amazing weird. And thinking about it, I really don’t know how I haven’t had to have therapy yet.

Oh wait…

For starters, I blame my mum for my sick sense of humour and lack of compassion. As you might have read from my previous posts, I am a constant source of amusement for her as she relishes in my- all to frequent- pain. She abuses me. Not the regular sort of beating me up abuse (although she is quite violent and has a nasty pinch on her) but the sort of playground bully abuse. The sort of, kick you when your down abuse. One of my first memories was of when I was three. I had this standard, red, plastic chair. One day, I decided I would quite like to see if I could fit my whole body underneath the arm of the chair. Well, to cut a short story even shorter… I couldn’t. I got my head and one arm stuck. I cried out for my mum,


My mum came rushing towards me, I was her first born child, stuck, oh God, what if I was stuck forever? She was hurrying over, quickly, quickly and… ooop… she went straight past me… straight to the telephone… where she called her mum to laugh. LAUGH!?!? I was stuck in a chair as a toddler and rather than help me get free, she laughed. It was only until my Nan reminded her that I was still stuck that she bothered to phone my dad to get him to come home from work and saw me out.

And I blame her for passing this trait onto me. I realised what she had done when I was at this rugby match. There was this old man sat on his fold-out chair close to the sideline. In hindsight a little too close really as one of the big rugby lads missed a tackle and ended up tackling the old man off of his chair instead. I thought I was going to die with laughter. I am ashamed. And I blame my mother.

I’ve also come to the conclusion that my complete crapness with men is because I’m scarred for life after a serious of weird and terrifying experiences with creeps. There was this one particular man who genuinely used to scare the shit out of me. He was this little, beardy Asian man in a hat who used to always pop up wherever I would be. He’d shout at me, blow kisses at me, wink at me, pretend to hide from me then continue following me down the street. And then one time… one horrific time… he snuck up behind me- my so called “friends” being the bastards that they are, decided not to tell me- and put his head on my shoulder (!) and, whilst sniffing my hair groaned…


Oh my dear Baby Jesus.

Needless to say, I ran. As fast and as far away as I could in HMV. With my “friends” crying with laughter behind me.

So I’m blaming this inability to trust, this paranoia, this analysing and reading too much into every situation involving a male on these freaks that used to follow me around. Either that, or it’s just because I’m a woman.

New Years Resolutions… Hmm…

Right, my New Years Resolution is to get fit and healthy (I’ve been watching too much Olympics- I want one of them medals). Okay, it’s a little lot past New Year but you know what they say… better late than never!

So, here are my aims for the rest of the year:

1) Drive more. I know people always go on about how good walking is for you, but people forget about how good driving is for you too! Not only do you get everywhere quicker but you also have to use your feet a lot. That means you will have really strong feet, which is always great and incredibly useful.

2) Have a baby. Well, I don’t want one. I have a little brother, so I’ll just use him instead. But for everyone else without a little sibling or a child ready to hand, go have a kid, guaranteed weight loss or your money back. Especially if you feed them a lot and make ’em chubs. Swear down picking my little brother up is better than weight lifting.

3) Go out partying more. Not only are you dancing- very, very good exercise, especially if you move your whole body (which I do, despite the funny looks)- but, if you walk home, you also walk twice the distance because you walk diagonally and end up criss-crossing across the street. Isn’t alcohol great!? (let’s just conveniently forget about the whole liver damage fairytale)

4) Be hungover more. You’ll feel too sick to eat so you’ll lose weight. And hopefully have had a really good night out before. Win win!

5) Go shopping more. Who needs to spend money going to the gym when you can spend it going on a shopping trip and get just as fit with the added bonus of a new wardrobe? Make sure you buy loads though, because carrying all those bags around is excellent for those arms. And walking from shop to shop will also increase that stamina- after a few shopping trips, you’ll definitely find it gets easier! And if you don’t have the money to go shopping, that’s fine. I’m not saying steal money from your parents but… steal money from your parents. I’m sure they’d rather you spend their money than get so fat you can’t leave your bed and die. That’s what you should say if you get caught.

Might quit uni and become a personal trainer.


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.

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