The Wish App
So one of my new favourite things to do , is to type random things into Wish and see what it spits out. Wish is great, not only as a source of wholesale glitter, but also as a terrible reflection of the worst aspects of humanity. Some of my best finds so far have been a model arse you can doink, and a butt plug with a raccoon tail! I’ll admit I dip a bit far into the void when I found myself shouting at James “ TYPE IN SKULL FUCK AND SEE WHAT HAPPENS”, but whatever. Did my betrothed see a side of me he could have lived without? Sure. Was it 100% worth it? YAS.
This weekend I binned off all my responsibilities and was just really nice to myself. I played with hair dye, I cuddled my cat, I whatsapped a bunch of friends I needed to catch up with. I basically had the kind of weekend I took for granted every week between the ages of 12 and 18, it was rad.
A Return to Healthy Living
March is here, and so ends my seasonal affective binge. Every year I humour the idea of New Year’s Resolutions , knowing full well that until Spring has sprung, I’ll be living like it’s Christmas. I’m not sorry , it is what nature intended. For squirrels, bears and me. Now the Siberian snow has finally cleared I’m super teffiried/ excited to get back on the road after my yearly four month break from any kind of cardio. Goodbye chins, hello sunshine!
Being time poor
After a ten day drought I’m blogging away with a fury. I’ve missed this so much- one more week of hectic schedule and then it’s all petsitting and chill for the rest of March
My Shite Upstairs Neighbours
Our top floor neighbours are the most noisy terrible bastards you could imagine. They are two Italian guys, both petit and unsatisfying to look at . They stomp down the stairs 20 times a day, and leap the final staircase with a glorious bang. I’ve always been suspicious of people who need to be noisy all the time, I’m a hundred per cent sure they’re compensating for something, possibly being the only unattractive Italians in Brighton. The other night I actually full Dot Cotton-ed them and launched myself into the hallway shrieking ” CAN YOU SHUT UP, IT’S THREE O’CLOCK IN THE MORNING”. While the hollering has stopped, the stomping and door slamming continues…
My students have their exam in six days and I’m just about ready to wet myself. I never thought I’d be stressing over exams again, but here I am, on the other side of the fence bearing down at my students trying to look encouraging. I told them they would pass this exam if it killed us all, and it may well.
Imagine actual poo is falling from the sky and everyone is skipping about telling you how fantastic it is. “look” they cry, as they caper in the poo “how can you not like this it’s magical!” That’s what it’s like when you have SAD and it’s snowing. I feel like the world’s gone mad, even though I kind of know it’s the other way round, but am I seriously the only one who sees slate skies and hates wearing twenty layers, with a burning face and having to walk like a penguin if there’s even a slight incline? Absolutely fuck snow.