In No Particular Order

AND FINALLY MY INTERNET WORKS!! Also I finally have my laptop charger back since I accidentally gave R my charger when he went back to ye olde Englande. All is well.

So I'm leaving Paris on Saturday. And then I shall be unemployed. The joys. At least I'll be unemployed in our shiny new house! I went to Southampton on the weekend to sign the lease and pick up the keys which was all much excite. Now I'm counting down the days until R says I'm allowed a cat. He thinks a kitchen table is more important but clearly that's ridiculous.

Anyhoo, I'm sitting in my hovel with a hot water bottle because fuck me it's freezing. Am attempting to finish my puzzle because I am an old lady. Also I need to finish it before I leave and it's driving me mad.

I thought I'd gather together some of my Paris photos over the next post or two because otherwise I may never look at them again and they will be banished to the dusty corner of my hard drive and I will forget I ever lived here.

This is the Eiffel Tower. Obviously. We walked around for ages trying to find it. Eventually we turned around and it was right behind us the whole time. Obviously. 

We finally managed to go up to the top when my Dad came to visit the other week. I'd been before and didn't particularly want to go up again because it's pretty bloody high. But hey ho.

This was the view from my window on the 7th floor before the scaffolding was built and ruined the view and my sleeping pattern. 

This was taken on a rainy Wednesday when I got lost taking the girls to their drawing and music lessons. They were having all the fun and I was panicking. 

The girls and their friend who is clearly the alpha in the pack. Her dad was also rather good looking. R agreed.

My cosy setup back when the hovel was reasonably tidy. The Pringles were a very extravagant purchase.

We accidentally found a park. There were ducks. It was very enjoyable.

Now I've thought of Pringles and am really hungry so going to go on a hunt for food. I need to be well fed before going to get the girls and having to deal with the fact it's raining so we can't go to the park. Which means I may have to entertain them myself. Good lord.

Paris

For some reason my last post didn't post until now. I said at the end of it that I'd just heard about the Paris shootings a few arrondissements away from me. That night turned into my most socially active night having to reassure countless family members and friends that I was safely curled up in bed and unhurt.

The world has turned in solidarity with my city. Monuments are shining red, white and blue and there have been candlelit vigils while the city of light is in mourning.

It's a scary feeling when you learn of terrorist attacks in a city you know and it's even scarier living in that city. I just thank god that R left earlier that day as, had he stayed the night, we probably would have been out for drinks alongside fellow Parisians.

I feel so angry about all of this. Angry that innocent people were killed, angry that imbeciles are blaming refugees, angry that people (myself included, I'll hold my hands up to that) don't think of the daily attacks on innocent people in Syria and the like until it happens closer to home.

I had a request from Facebook to mark myself 'safe' after the Paris Shootings which I did. I hope to never have to do it again but who can tell what this world is coming to.

I ask anyone reading to hold their loved ones particularly close over the next few days - I wish I could right now but I'm on my own until I see R next Saturday. Tell people you love them daily and try to live your life with a bit more happiness and kindness. That's really what the world needs right now doesn't it? And if we can't personally stop wars or killings we can at least do our bit to remind the world that there is kindness around (#PorteOuverte).

Nous sommes tous Paris.

I'm Going To Live With A Boyyyy....

SO MUCH IS HAPPENING AND MY INTERNET KEEPS BREAKING.

So I wanted to leave Paris and miraculously R got a job in the UK and like a dutiful wifey I decided to follow him home. Emphasis on the 'home'. We found a place in Southampton. Not even that. We found a house. WE HAVE A HOUSE!!!!

It's a little end of terrace 2 bedroom house with a back garden. And a shed. And we can have a cat. I'll say that again. A cat. All my dreams are coming true!!

This is not my cat. I do not own a cat. Yet.

To top it all off, I'm leaving Paris in 2 weeks time. For good. Which is kind of a shame because living in Paris for a year could've been much lols and something to talk about at future dinner parties. But now I am so glad to be going. R and I hated each other in Paris. We became the worst versions of ourselves, most probably because we had to live in a 12 metre squared room for weeks on end. It was a trying time whenever he was here. But I still love Paris because clearly I am a typical white girl.

I made R hold the hot chocolate every Basic White Girl must buy when in Paris. Also that's the Palace of Versailles in the background because I am a cultured white girl.

And we've completed our bucket list of things to do in Paris. Well nearly. R wanted to go to Disneyland but we couldn't afford it so that'll have to wait. But apart from that, we've done all the touristy stuff and then some (Cat Cafe...) and we even put a lock on the lock bridge today before R left to go home.

Look! I even did actual photo editing so at least one of my photos doesn't look like utter shit!

I'm in a weird mood tonight. There was something small that I saw in the MacDonalds we went to for lunch today that broke my heart and made it ache in empathy. And now I won't see R until next weekend when I travel back to the UK to pick up the keys for the house before finishing my last week in Paris. I'm in a horrible state of limbo as my life here is coming to a definite close and my life with R is taking a new direction. It's not a comfortable feeling. I need hugs and hot chocolate.

Also I'm going to live with a boy. How weird is that?

Just before I posted this I saw in the news about the shootings at Stade de France and in the 11éme which is scarily only 2 districts away from me. Get me out of Paris!

Reasons Why I'm Leaving Paris

1. I still can't work corkscrews.

2. R got a job in Southampton.

Finally my internet works properly!!! I've been using increasingly dodgy internet for the past 3 weeks but Family Parisian have finally got it sorted. So you've all missed out on some major news...

I was 20 a few weeks ago (finally no longer a youth!) and R and I went to a rather lovely hotel in Southampton to spend my birthday. He also had a job interview at the Southampton Docks. But for like, boat things. Not prostitute things. 

Anyway anyway anyway we found out a week ago that he'd gotten the job! Am so ridiculously proud of him and also so relieved because I was beginning to get tired of him always being offshore and not seeing him for weeks.

So why does that mean I'm leaving my coveted Paris? As much as I'd like to prove my mother wring and say it is not in any way me following a man around... It is a little bit that.

It's been a year since I met R and 9 months (ish) since we started dating. And during that entire time everything has been so up and down - leaving uni, the weekly trips between Aberdeen and Glasgow, him graduating and then being without a job, him getting temp jobs and disappearing for days on end, moving to Paris, living in different countries, I could go on. Actually no I couldn't; that's about it.

So yes, I want a little bit of stability in my life with him and I'd like to be settled down for a bit. I've also decided that looking after children is not my calling and would like to actually make a start in career that I actually enjoy. Unfortunately for Me With No Degree, that means starting from the bottom as a Christmas temp in retail until I can work out what my cunning plan will be.

R's going to look at some flats on Wednesday and hopefully sign a lease for one.Without me. I know. I chose them on the website though so hopefully I'll have picked some good ones. Everything's happening so fast! I've told the Family Parisian that I'm leaving and so I might even be back in the UK by the end of the month! TOO MUCH GOING ON!

Although R got me the greatest birthday present ever. I always used to play a Harry Potter computer game about 10 years ago that I was obsessed with. I never finished it because we upgraded our computer and I don't understand technology so that was that. R managed to find me a copy that will play on my current laptop and it is all the greatness in the world. Did anyone ever play this too?

Holy shit I have wasted so many hours on this.

So yes! That's the exciting news! I'm leaving Paris! And I'm a bit scared and so dizzy with excitement. ALSO WE MIGHT GET A CAT IN THE NEW PLACE AND THAT WOULD MAKE THE WORLD A BETTER, FLUFFIER PLACE.

Going to have to go calm down and defeat some Fire Crabs now in order to learn the Rictusempra spell and find me some silver Wizard Cards... K bye.

LB (And To A Lesser Extent: Troy)

I've realised that every time it has properly ended with a man, I write something about it.

And (obvs) I haven't written anything about the train wreck that was LB yet because, up until about a week ago, I still wasn't sure I was 100% over him. There was about 0.01 of a percent of me that still thought about him in the way that I definitely shouldn't have.

But anyhoo, I messaged him last week. Not with any malicious intent of course, I just wanted to have some closure. I wanted to find out what he had thought of me when we were together (in the loosest sense of the word).

Long story short: he is the most boring man on the planet and apparently just found me 'interesting'.

And seriously, like the wave of a magic fucking fairy godmother wand, I'm over him. Completely. He doesn't pop into my head any more and even if he does, I have a record of the conversation that proves he is a boring fuck and probably couldn't deal with a conversation about poo.

Tiny Friend Holly says that we should now just ask people the moment we meet them if they would be comfortable talking about poo a lot as it makes up the majority of our conversations. Because we are adults.

So goodbye Sean. And fuck you for generally ripping my heart apart over the course of one very very long year. But also thank you. Thank you for making me realise what I really want. Which is not you. So again, fuck you. Also you're balding. You're very tall so you can't see it but I can assure you that it's starting.

Also lol totes forgot to do this about Troy about a billion years ago. So goodbye Gregor. Sorry I was a total bumhole to you. I hope you find someone that will have all the sex with you.

Sundays In Paris

Are boring as fuck.

Mainly because my bae (do people still use this word? Did they ever non ironically?) of a supermarket is closed on Sundays so I have to make the awful journey to the shithole of Franprix a few streets away.

Anyhoo, I thought we could all do a Things What I Have Done This Week because of aforementioned boredom and also I have things of cray cray excite to share.

1. I got some really good apples yesterday. They look like Snow White apples. Like, properly red and stuff. Not poisoned. So that's fun.

2. When bored on another day, I found this link from a blog. Can't remember what blog. But hey, that's life - full of little disappointments. Anyway I found it sweet and a little bit sad and I even shared it on Facebook like a middle aged mother: I met you in the rain on the last day of 1972

3. Before R left me all on my lonesome as he had to go and play on a boat, we played an epic* game of Scrabble. This picture was my lock screen on my phone until I changed it for a picture of a cat.

*It was epic because we filled the board and played until we couldn't think of any more words and had run out of letters. I realise all the words are a bit shit. Except for sausage. That was mine.

4. We played another game the night after and R got like 200 points in his first few goes because he kept finishing all his letters and I got really mad...

I got even more annoyed when he pointed out that I only had one 'arse'. The other 2 were 'iarse' and 'asre'. Either way, I think he knew what I was getting at. 200 bloody points..

5. The Dreaded Tourists descended on Paris on Saturday like a flock of really annoying geese with big cameras. And yes I used to be one myself, I know, but I feel like I've been here 2 months so I have the right to complain. Although it was totally my fault for going to try and find a bookshop at Notre Dame. Because Notre Dame is all famous and shit. 

6. I've read a fuck tonne of books since getting to Paris and also since having my internet and Netflix snatched horribly from me. And I've loved it. To an extent. It's been so nice to curl up with my Kindle and yes, I am fully aware it is not as good as a book but it's been so useful so there's that. 

Sadly they are the most interesting Things What I Have Done This Week that I could think of. Here, have a picture of Paris looking deceivingly pretty to make up for it.

Have a good Sunday, fuckers.

In Other News

Long time no talk chickadees! Baby I'm back!

Well back for a very short time as I have the most terrible internet that keeps cutting out every 5 minutes. It's like being back in the world of dial up.

Anyhoo, what's been happening? Tell me all!

I'm in Paris. Yep, I did it, fo realz. I am honest to God living in Paris like the artsy bohemian that I truly am... I can even see the Sacre Coeur from my window. Well, not my window. The window on the stairs up to my hovel garret. I live on the 7th floor in a studio apartment. Everything is in the one room which I am almost definitely positive is illegal. My toilet is not even a foot away from my cooker. Where food is made. That I will eat. I do not want shit particles invading my food but hey! That's what you get for deciding to come live in Paris!

What's worse than a tiny room to live in? A tiny room to live in with your 6'9 boyfriend! Yep, SD (hereafter known as R because SD is no longer a thing. Sad face. I know, life moves on, it's hard. And yes, I still get a kick out of anonymity) is staying with me. For most of the time. Right now he's away on a boat somewhere and I am bored out of my tits.

But it's all good. I still love him, even though I am acutely aware of what his poo smells (and looks) like. Although who am I kidding, we crossed that bridge in about week 2 of our relationship.

Honestly, in all the excitement of coming to Paris, I'd completely forgotten I'd have to look after children.

Good God. Children.

I hate them.

I mean yeah they can be cute and whatnot and yes I have a pretty cushy deal in that I only get them 20 hours a week but oh my good lord I cannot stand them. They whine and cry and hit and I just do not have the temperament for that kind of bullshit.

But hey - I get the chance to live in Paris rent free and bill free! I even get some of my food paid for! And for minimal work! That's the dream! Right?! Right!?... Right?

Nah.

I am bored. And unsettled. And yes, also a whiny over privileged bitch no doubt.

I know, I know, I was all over leaving uni for the bright lights of the Eiffel Tower but now things have changed again. Yes, I couldn't believe I was living in Paris for the first month. But now (2 months in) I've had a change of heart.

The thing is, to my ditzy fuck of a mind, I want to settle down. I want to live with R and have somewhere we can call our own and put our stamp on. I want a big fat cat. I want to be able to make friends and just put roots down somewhere. I'm craving this so much that I'm losing sense of what this whole Paris thing was to me. Aren't I a complete twat?

On the plus side, I've found a cat cafe. Like, an actual cafe with cats in it. Real cats. I know, be still my beating heart. Fucking love cats.

Look. It's all cute and shit.

There's a cat in there. I know. Best day ever.

Clearly I have things to think about but hey, I've rediscovered my blog and will continue to write my mindless babble about meaningless things.

But not cats. Cats are far from meaningless.

But seriously, fill me in. What's been happening? Also am I being an idiot wanting to leave Paris already even though it's not that shit?

All I Do Is Win

You know why I haven't been posting anything on here regularly?

I'm happy.

I am so happy right now and almost everything is going right for once.

So let me tell you about my pelvic exam.

Well really, it's the only thing that's going wrong. My body is rejecting itself and being a pain in the arse which has eventually evolved into me being fingered by a tiny birdwoman doctor and prescribed antibiotics that mean I can't drink alcohol for 2 whole weeks.

No alcohol for 2 entire weeks, 14 days. And 14 nights. It's not even like it's just recommended that I don't drink alcohol. If I do, I will make myself violently ill and wishing for death. But even still... I've just learned how to use the emoji things (is that the right word?) on my phone and the red wine glass was my favourite. Now it's followed by a broken heart.

Oh! Speaking of alcohol, I managed to go out in style with what is now my last occasion with wine. SD drove me back to Aberdeen last night. I bloody love a roadtrip. In fact, this is what I'm like on roadtrips (Shrek the Musical 4evs):

I may or may not have sung this multiple times much to SD's annoyance. But he was the one to challenge me to drink an entire bottle of white wine before we got to Perth. So in about an hour. Anything to shut me up about how my insides were falling out. Really, I think he was more interested in getting me to sing -as da youths say - my jam.

My jam is a song that is very roadtrip appropriate. If SD looks like he's tiring at all, I will steer the music away from my 80s playlist (Holding Out For A Hero is our personal fave. Mainly because once I've had wine, I will look at him all lovey and say that he's my hero. Anything to get him to stop madly waving his arms about to the song whilst DRIVING ON A MOTORWAY) and I will play my jam. It is important to recognise that whenever said jam comes on, one must hold ones hands up to shush everyone whilst saying 'dis ma jam, dis ma jam'. It really befits a classic white girl such as myself.

Anyway. Dis ma jam:

I even attempt to rap. Not gonna lie, I think SD fell a little bit in love with me when he first heard it.

And SD himself? Everything's going fucking amazingly. We've got a bit of dysfunctional long distance thing going as he's living in Glasgow at the moment and only has the weekends free. I'm obviously in Aberdeen and only have 2 days during the week free. There's a lot of car rides for him and train journeys for me but we're making it work.

We're going to Paris for 3 days at the end of May. Hold all your romantic horses though. I only asked him as an afterthought... I'm going to hopefully meet up with my new host family for when I legitimately move to Paris in August. This is a thing that is happening. I am going to live in Paris for the foreseeable future. I know. Pinch me now.

Leaving university was the greatest idea I have ever had. That and going to a log cabin for 2 nights with SD. Fo realz. Just look at it:

We played Scrabble in front of the fire. SD discovered how competitive I was. I denied him sex until I won a game. Apparently being an ex-English literature student doesn't mean you're good at Scrabble. He got 56 points in one go. We bought Scrabble when we got home. We each have a game in our respective flats. Bloody love Scrabble.

We were legit in the middle of nowhere (Dalavich on the West Coast of Scotland if you're interested) so the sky got pitch black at night and there's no streetlights for miles so you have no light pollution. We went and stood on the balcony with mojitos (pretending we weren't in the freezing cold) and looked up at the stars. Romantic as fuck thank you very much.

An actual wood burning stove. A real one. We were properly shite at lighting it. I'm just useless and was too busy drinking wine. SD just really wanted to soak a log in Redex and let it do its thing. I eventually let him. We didn't even burn anything down. We did good considering we were in a place made of wood.

So yes, the log cabin was one of my greater ideas. But leaving university is a close second. I am so much happier. I've even forgotten I even went to university. A huge weight has been lifted from my mind and I know I made the right decision. 

And Paris is sorted! Properly actually sorted! I have a job! In Paris! What even?!

So there we go. The reason I haven't been writing on this blog much is because I haven't had anything to complain about. No man dramas or anything. SD makes me so happy. I'm so glad I got drunk and horny one night in November and decided to text the very tall man in the dinosaur onesie from Halloween.

We're planning to go away on a roadtrip round Europe in Summer. We'll just keep going until his car falls apart. Various bits are already falling off it and I'm pretty sure he bribed the MOT guy to make sure it passed. I'm so excited. 

If it weren't for the minor issue of the pelvic exam; everything would be pretty damn amazing right now. And really, that's a very minor issue. 

Why I Ignored Everyone And Dropped Out Of University

I am officially a lady of leisure.

Yep, I ignored everyone's advice and dropped out of university yesterday. I am currently employed 11 hours a week and I have no solid plans for the near or far flung future.

And right now, I'm pretty okay with it.

Don't get me wrong, I'll have a breakdown about whether I made the right decision and what I'm going to do with my life at some point soon. I'm prepared for that. I have prepared everyone else in my life for that. It's fine, we'll work our way through it.

Dropping out of university is scarily easy. You just fill out a form, hand it to the nice Australian lady at the desk and you're done. Bosh. No longer a student. It's quite useful to bring your enormously tall boyfriend with you for moral support and to put up with your incessant 'I've just left uni' mumblings for the next 5 hours.

So why did I do it? Why did I drop out of a free degree that wasn't going to leave me with crippling amounts of student loans? Why did I drop out with no solid plan for what I was going to do next?

Because I was unhappy. I was unhappy with my course and I was unhappy attending uni. I wasn't depressed or anything, let's just clear that one up. I just wasn't cut out for it. And, despite what everyone else said, I thought: why the fuck do something I am unhappy with?

So you know what I'm going to do?

I'm going to move to Paris.

I am going to become an au pair and move to Paris. This isn't set in stone at all as I've only been talking to a couple of potential families for a week or so. But I'm so excited. Paris! I fucking love Paris.

Right I am bloody shattered so I need to go the fuck to sleep. Got a busy day of doing nothing tomorrow. I will write a (vaguely) more coherent post soon.

My Engagement Story

I got engaged on Saturday night.

Okay, admittedly it was fake so we could try and get free drinks but it was magical all the same.

So SD finally came back on Saturday morning and we met up for drinks once I'd finished work. My friend at work and I had come up with an ingenious idea to test out whether tequila gave you a hangover or not. So I had reluctantly agreed to try out the experiment. Which was basically to drink tequila all night. Two tequila shots at 8pm? But of course. However the bartender was so not on board with this. Two tequila shots at 8pm? She was a dick.

Naturally, during the entire course of the night, people were coming up to SD to ask him about his height and my height and get pictures of him. He's used to this - he hates it, but he deals with it so well - whereas it still shocks me a bit. However whilst he was getting photos, I was bonding with the women who wanted them. I'm going to put this out there right now: he is a cougar magnet. They adore him. It's one of the greatest spectacles I've ever witnessed.

This one woman was saying to us what a great couple we made. She then caught sight of my left hand, shrieked a little bit and asked if we were engaged. I usually wear two antique rings on my wedding finger because, although I don't really like wearing anything on said finger, they are just too damn pretty. And they don't fit any other finger.

So obviously, I said yes. I said yes we were engaged. We came up with some whole story about how it happened and how long we'd been together. By this time there were a group of middle aged women clustered around us, wanting to hear about our true love. They eventually dispersed and SD and I got our drinks. Then I turned to him and said, 'do you think if you actually proposed to me, we'd get free drinks?' The possibility of free alcohol? He was all over this plan.

We decided to see how many bars in which he could propose and try and score us free alcohol. We even pinky promised on it and everything. So we made our way to Vodka Rev. We got some drinks at the bar and then SD told me to wait there for a moment and he disappeared into the crowd. When he came back, he wouldn't tell me where he'd been and we walked over to a table. I had already given him one of the rings from my wedding finger - the most engagement-y one - and had put the other in my pocket. Then all of a sudden, the music died down.

As the DJ turned the music off, SD got down off his chair and bent down onto one knee. There was a crowd gathering around us. Girls were starting to squeal. People were taking pictures. And then he asked me to marry him. I said yes, he put the ring on my finger, we kissed and everyone cheered. It was the most ridiculous thing that has ever happened. It was bloody brilliant. I spent the next 20 minutes talking wedding plans with a girl on her hen party and was hugged by countless other girls.

And yep, we got our free (v posh) sparkling wine. All in the bucket with ice and everything.

Once we'd gotten drunk enough, we went to one of da clubs and managed to get free VIP entry because we were newly engaged. SD had even had someone take a video on his phone of the proposal as proof. I'll have to get him to send it to me. I mean, it was the most magical moment of my life, I need to have evidence it happened.



In other news, my boyfriend's pretty damn awesome.

Why Right Now At University Kinda Fucking Sucks

Now I wouldn't call this drunk blogging as such... Maybe we'll just stick with tipsy. Does an entire bottle of wine and an oddly delicious mixture of tequila (obvs), peach schnapps and apple and raspberry juice count as tipsy? We'll work with what we've got.

Here's the honest to God, actual, true as fuck deal. I have literally no idea what is going on in my life right now. So I am going to ramble at you. Bear with.

So I mentioned in my last post (possibly, who can be fucked checking?) that I wasn't sure about university. I am studying English literature and it's just not right for me. To put it mildly. I cannot think the way they want me to think. To put it simply; right now, I have more of a mathematic brain than a literature brain. At this current moment in time, I am much more suited to the way of thinking that involves rights and wrongs. I am not down with theological essays debating the merits of Frankenstein.

But this never used to be the case! I was always fucking awesome at English. English was my thing. I was going to successfully move out of a small town and go to university and be the greatest thing that had ever come out of my said small town. That was what I was kinda destined to be. Ish. So maybe not the greatest thing. Just a thing that didn't stay in the small town and get pregnant by whatever small town boy I went to high school with. I mean, seriously. It is utterly ridiculous the amount of pregnancies that have occurred in my hometown at my age. About 10% of my year got pregnant at around 17. That's about 20 girls. In a town of 8,000 that's a hell of a lot. This is why I'm so pleased I got out of there.

But now I'm in Aberdeen. I'm at university like I was supposed to be. I'm halfway through my 2nd year. And it fucking sucks. Because I have lost all motivation and general interest in my course. I do not want to be at university right now.

I think of it like... You're in a job that you hate for another 2 years. And you know you can leave this job and find another one in a completely different career. You know it's not the most sensible thing to do; leave your job for another uncertain job but it's what will make you happy.

I cried non stop for about 3 hours tonight as I was stressing like I have never stressed before over university and my future. My mother wants me to stay on and do one more year so I can come out with a degree. It makes sense. That is the sensible thing to do. Nowadays, employers look for degrees, regardless of what they're in. But the idea of even one more year at university terrifies me. Right now, I hate university. I have absolutely no interest in staying but I thought that yes, the sensible thing to do would be to continue on and do my 3rd year.

But I cannot bear that thought right now. I honestly cannot bear the thought of even staying on an extra week. I do not want to stay at something that makes me unhappy. I feel I am young enough (and able enough) to make the decision to not continue something that makes me unhappy. And I honestly am unhappy. I am not the type of person to get stressed about something. But I have been so unbelievably stressed these past few weeks that I don't know how much longer I can handle it for.

If you asked me honestly where I'd like to be right now, I would tell you: Paris. Paris is where I would like to be right now. I have been to Paris once and I fell in love with it. I could see myself living there. My friends could see me living there. And hopefully my family could see me living there too. I would love to have a tiny garret apartment up by the Moulin Rouge. I would love to be able to take picnics by the Eiffel Tower. I would love to wander through the antique markets and stop off to see the view at the Sacre Coeur. I feel that Paris is kind of a part of me. Is that very weird and white girl of me? I don't think so. I think it feels like home.

So I would, quite frankly, like nothing more than to leave university right now. To work in Aberdeen for a year and a half and save up some money. To become... I don't know... An au pair in Paris. Yes, these are very romantic dreams at the moment. I know I haven't yet thought through the logistics. But if it's something that would make me happy, then isn't it worth it?

And Mum, I know it's not the sensible thing to do. But if I have to stay another year at university, I think I will go utterly insane. I will lose what little sense of self I have left. I always told you to let me make my own mistakes and I am very much aware that this could be a huge mistake. But I am sensible. And I could deal with the consequences. And right now, I would much prefer to be happy than crying my eyes out alone at the kitchen table.

Also, SD? He is perfect. He has been perfect. He is just... I don't even know. He's the real deal. I can envision a proper, legitimate future with this man. I could honestly, at some point in the very near future, be in love with this man. Right now, he is keeping me sane. I have never felt like this before but it feels so right and natural. And he will be back onshore in approximately 24 hours. I cannot fucking wait.

What do you think? Do you think I should be sensible? Or should I think that life is fucking short and I should damn well live it? Or am I being a complete idiot in every single way? I need your help... Please help.

In Other News

Today has already started off to be a rather bloody good day. So, instead of writing my essay, I'm going to make you read shit. And then I'll start my essay. 

In other news, I think SD is my soulmate. Why? Because we both secretly (not so secretly now) watch Air Crash Investigation and find it the most incredible programme ever. If that's not soulmate material, I don't know what is.

I dig him. He romances so good.

Aberdeen was looking rather marvellous the other day when it wasn't grey and miserable. This was when I was being a lonely wifey before the dog turned up.

#nofilter. That's what the thing is right? Also SD is on one of those teeny tiny boats. Which are not so teeny tiny close up. Obviously. Also I filtered the fuck out of this picture on my Instagram... I am utterly shit at Instagram but I try. Also I do not understand hashtags for the life of me,

My flatmate baked biscuits the other day. I feel that one of the reasons I live with her is for her baking. Also the fact that she buys me wine. Anyway, she made a biscuit in the shape of a boat. And drew a tiny icing dinosaur on it. Just for me.

Yaaaasss good quality photos. But fo realz. It's SD on his boat. Come ON. 

And finally, because I really need to start essay writing, I was an awesome flatmate and took all the bins out this morning. Also I was an awesome adult because I actually remembered when the bins were getting collected. I picked out the first pair of shoes I found because I wasn't going out to the bin in bare feet and unwittingly turned into a fashion blogger.

I think you'll find that all good fashion bloggers pose with their bins. Also if anyone's interested, these are my Emergency Summer Wedding Heels. I found them on sale for £5 a few months ago and obviously bought them because you never know when you might be invited to a summer wedding. I have never been to a summer wedding and nor shall I in the foreseeable near future. But that doesn't matter because when I do get an invite, I will already have my shoes. So if anyone is going to a summer wedding and needs a date... I am very much prepared.

Now fuck off and let me do my essay.

Oh I Can't Be Fucked Thinking Of A Title..

..So sue me.

I get way too emotionally attached.

I always thought I was all aloof and cool and giving no fucks whatsoever about the various men coming in and out of my life.

But TGI unexpectedly popped up on my Facebook newsfeed just now. I'm not friends with him on Facebook so it's not like this is a regular occurrence. But some photos of him and a bunch of other people I used to know in first year turned up. And of course I went through them. Who isn't a little bit self destructive?

And I cried.

I mean, I know I'm hormonal at the moment and have just watched a very stressful episode of Grey's Anatomy; I'm aware of this. But something just got to me. Don't get me wrong, it's not like it was regret or 'the one that got away' type of crap. It was more like... Melancholy.. Memories? Remembering? I don't know. It was a weird fucker of a feeling.

However I am liking SD more and more as time goes by. And I mean, time has really fucking gone by. It's been exactly a month since I've seen him. An entire month of him being on a ship in the middle of the sea. But I would honestly, right now, consider doing an Ariel and giving my voice to the sexy badass that is Ursula, just so I could have SD back right now.

I need hugs, tequila and someone to stroke my hair and tell me I'm pretty. Also he smells good so that's also a plus.

It's ridiculous - he's only a few miles away. I can walk to the beach and see his boat. I went to the beach the other day and gazed out at it like a lonely wife. For about 30 seconds. Because I got distracted by a dog. And forgot all about SD. 

Anyway, I am going to hunt for something vaguely chocolatey in the kitchen (do not judge if it turns out to be Baileys) and then snuggle up in my lonely, empty bed. Although let's be honest, SD doesn't even fit in my bed. He has to contort himself into weird angles while I just sleep blissfully unaware... Maybe I should take a jigsaw to the footboard at the end of my bed?

Unnecessary Life Catch Up

What up fuckers! I am in a surprisingly good mood. It finally feels like Friday (I know it is Friday but sometimes Fridays don't even feel like Fridays and I'm pretty sure Wednesday went on for about three days). I have done the grand total of absolutely fuck all this week. As ever. In fact, the only reason I might go to my Literature class today is if Sophie wakes up in time to dye my hair.

I am hormonal and full of the worst cold in the world possibly ever. I'm pretty sure I have sneezed roughly six million times this morning alone. My body is showing the signs of my hormonal stress eating but I have decided I do not give a flying fuck. I can work on my thighs when the rest of my life gets its shit together. Also I read this which was linked from Hey Natalie Jean (possibly one of my favourite blogs in the entire universe and I wish I had an effortlessly cool Brooklyn apartment, adorable kid and manly ginger husband) and it made me feel better about my Australia-sized thighs.

I've been spending my days having Grey's Anatomy marathons. And updating SD on what's been happening in said marathons. Not that he's ever asked or is interested at all. But since I appear to be having a bit of a moment about gorgeous, rugged ginger army doctors... He has to as well. Right?

Ugh. Just look at that manly gingerness. JUST LOOK.

Speaking of SD, I know you're dying to know what's been happening... 

I decided to not be a dick. I stopped texting TBB and instead drank wine and tequila last night (not mixed together; even I'd draw the line somewhere) and messaged SD. TBB was just a minor panic moment and I'm over it now. Someone else will just have to appreciate his teddy bear-ness because I have a very tall navigation officer that I would like to hang onto thank you very much.

We still haven't found a flat yet. Not SD and I. Calm your pants. I know no one really puts up flats six months in advance but I always have high hopes every time I go online to look. I'd just feel so much more secure if we had one, you know? Sophie and I are getting really excited though. Sophie's very much looking forward to the prospect of having a double bed. I am very much looking forward to having a garden gnome by the front door. We were in Morrisons yesterday and there were gnomes for sale because Spring and shit and I really want one. I said I'd get Sophie one for her birthday in March. Like a joint birthday present... That I would slowly commandeer. And they're hilarious. You can get some right fucking dumb ones. I love them.

I want one like that. I'd call him Ivan. In a past life, he would have been a gymnast

.I'm working this weekend as usual and then it's back to uni... And essay writing week is starting. God, the fucking horror. I am so bored of uni. And my course. I mean, you take an English Literature course because you like reading and then you realise that you've actually got to analyse why Shakespeare mentioned a crow in Act 2 Scene 3 of Macbeth and then a dove two pages later and if this has significance in that one tiny line in Scene 6 and does it have an impact on the world as we know it. My mind just doesn't work like that! I just think, like.. No. No it fucking doesn't. He probably just wanted to talk about the birds because it was relevant to whatever the fuck he was thinking. I hate Shakespeare.

I would like nothing more than to just be lying on a beach somewhere warm right now. Preferably somewhere in Greece. Maybe with the cast of Mamma Mia! performing off in the distance. Or just Colin Firth. I bloody love Colin Firth.

I shall repeat: I bloody love Colin Firth.

Also when looking at gnomes online (don't you start judgey judging - I have no shame), I came across this. This person knows what the fuck is up. I only wish I'd thought of it first.

Have a good weekend, losers.

Lord Dick of Dickington

So here's the deal.

I told SD that I wanted to sleep with TBB. And he got all kinds of mad and sad.

Still not over the Lee Pace thing. This may continue for quite some time.

He basically told me that he was thinking he should be ending... Whatever we had going on. But he couldn't because he liked me too much. He hoped that this was just a one off and he would be back soon so hopefully I wouldn't have to think about other guys.

I know right. He's so cool. And I'm an actual arsewank. 

And I know, I know, I know that I should not let this one get away. Because I can actually like, envision a future with this thing. I really want him to be back onshore so I can confirm this fact.

However...

I got a drunk text from TBB last night. I love drunk texts. Drunk texts are my favourite. Anyway, the text in question was something along the lines of 'I would very much like to have the sex with you my fair maiden at a time around about now.'*

*Not a direct quote.

And I've been thinking about it.

Yep, you read that correctly. I am Lord Dick of Dickington. 

Why the fuck would I be thinking about meeting TBB for sex when clearly I like like SD and he like likes me? What is even wrong with me at this current moment in time? Because there must be something.

Am I scared? Is that it? Am I scared of committing to SD? Cos I kinda feel like this Thing will be a Proper Thing if I don't screw up the Thing by letting TBB's thing anywhere near my thing.

Which I won't, right? I'll see sense, won't I? SD will come back and all my worries about everything will just happily vanish...

Ugh, maybe I should just eat my thoughts for TBB? I mean, it's Pancake Day, I'm allowed to put copious amount of sugar into my body. I think that's what I'll do. Only until SD comes back and rights all the wrongs. 

Oh dear. I'll keep you updated.

Tequila Made Me Write This

Tequila also made me write 'right' in that title. That's what we're dealing with here.

Welcome to drunk blogging part fuck knows. It has been too many times.

So here's the deal.

It's Valentine's Day.

I was very much prepared to spend the entirety of tonight with sparkling wine, tequila, chocolates and Grey's Anatomy. For the most part, that has been true. But what I wasn't counting on was a parcel from SD. He'd sent for it yesterday morning from the middle of the North Sea and it had arrived whilst I'd been at work today. Inside the parcel was a box of fancy chocolates and a Latin For Beginners textbook. There have been countless times I've been texting him telling him I'd missed my Latin classes. And he sent me that textbook.

I'm sorry but I mean... Isn't that just...

He sounds bloody perfect, right?

Well. I think he does.

So then, pray tell, why am I texting TBB about how I am alone in my flat and wondering if he was wanting to come round?

 I know, I know.

Collective disapproval at my general tequila sluttiness.

But I like SD. I really do! He makes me smile, he makes me laugh, I miss him when he's not here...

So why am I being a dick and trying to sleep with TBB??

I feel it's like it was with Troy (lol Troy #tbt - is that a thing? I feel so old) around this time... I feel that SD might be Troy in this case and TBB might be TGI. Fuck me, I do love some codenames, I really do.

Am I freaking out? Am I freaking out that this could be a possible (shudder) relationship? I suck at relationships! I broke up with Troy the day before we went on holiday together! 

But I really, really like SD. I mean, I like him enough to tell him I like him after only really knowing him properly for a weekend... I hate my honesty sometimes.

But I'm still trying to convince TBB to come over after he finishes work...

Tequila really does make me slutty.

I love tequila.

You know what else I love? Lee Pace in Pushing Daisies. Please tell me someone else knows of this most fucking fabulous TV show and this gorgeously eyebrowed man....?

God just look at him.

I think he's my dream man.

I do.

I would.

Man, if I could...

You know I'll update you tomorrow on whatever presumably godawful decision I make. I can only hope, for my sake, it ends in sex. It's been too long. TMI? (Is that still a thing? Again, old. Do you remember the TV show TMI? Was it CBBC? CITV? Shut up now, Nancy.) Anyway, TMI about my sex life? You are reading the wrong blog...

Okay, Who Called It?

Well fuck me sideways and call me Wendy - it was a good thing I was sitting down when this occurred.

Allow me to set the scene: around 8pm on a typical Thursday night and I am sitting on my bed on Facebook to various friends (because I am, as one likes to call it, a popular fuck) having been out for girly drinks beforehand. See, flatmate and I have had a horrid ballsfest of a shitty week so far. Landlords and flats have been arsewanks, she's coming down with a horrible cold and I'm considering dropping out of uni (I'll get to that another time).

Now, you all know Teddy Bear Bartender from such hilarious misadventures as 2 posts ago and, since I had been having a shitty week and SD is still floating around the North Sea somewhere, I had arranged to meet him. Sophie was not impressed. Not impressed because she knows I like SD. And that, even though TBB was all cute and teddy bear-like, I didn't really want to see him. Mainly because his spelling is so utterly atrocious. I know, I know, it's such a dick thing for me to say but honest to God, I have never seen such terrible spelling. It pained me to look at his texts. God I'm a pretentious twat.

However, I told Sophie that I was stressed and shit and I wasn't sure when SD was back and I didn't even know how SD felt and I didn't want to be the idiot that was way more into the guy than he was into me. So after girly drinks, I went back to the flat to make my face look semi decent as I was going to meet TBB in the next hour or so. And I went onto the Facebooks because I am a youth and that is how we do. I had a message from SD and as I was replying, I somehow told him that I was going to see TBB... Somehow. I somehow told him. Basically, I am very, very honest. And for some reason I trust him. And feel no need to lie to him. So I told him.

And now, allow me to elaborate with the medium of screenshot. I bloody love me some screenshotting. Saves me so much typing time here.

So here, I had just told SD that I was meeting TBB. I told him I was sorry but he didn't know when he'd be back and I needed someone.

And he said he was disappointed. Did you see it? Disa-fucking-ppointed. Which is why I said I could cancel. Although yes, well observed how reluctant I sounded about cancelling. Please go shove a cucumber up your arse.

This is basically useless information for you. I was screenshotting the whole conversation. Deal with it. 

Although note how he told me to go and basically sleep with TBB. Right? Right?!

Okay yeah, then I was a dick again. 

Ooooooh I cut off half the message!!! What's it going to say??!!!

So I do my truth bomb thing. AND THEN...

DID YOU READ IT????!!!!

'But then, I don't know, I just kinda fell for you...'

CAN WE ALL JUST...

HE LIKES ME!!!!! LIKE, LIKE LIKES ME!!!!!!! (Lol flashback to LB ye olde times of yore...) (Actually less lol) (More pain) (Men are arsewanks).

BUT SERIOUSLY!!!!!

So, needless to say I cancelled TBB. In fact, I went so far as to tell him that I was in A&E with a friend who had broken her leg. Because I am a dick. As we have established many a time. I am a major bumhole.

I'm going to go squeal a bit more.

I have the most ridiculous smile on my face right now.

I disgust myself.

Tall Australian & The Rest

So it's properly over with Tall Australian.

It was a clean and mature way to end it and I don't even know why I was keeping him hanging on. So goodbye, Stewart. You were kind of weird but had the potential to be a fairytale prince. Maybe work on that a bit.

In other news... I like SD.

God, I know right. Quelle surprise, eh?

I've been trying to fight the fact that I like him. It's ridiculous. I've barely known him (properly) 3 months and we've only seen each other in person twice - I'm not counting Halloween when we met. The counting starts from December onwards when we started texting. But I mean, I genuinely do like him. I can't deny it.

He's kind, he's sweet, he's funny, he gets me. I don't want to kick him out in the early hours of the morning. I want to wake up to him. And that's really saying something coming from me. But I do. I want to have lazy Sunday mornings. I want to get up and have coffee with him. This is all very strange and unnatural for me.

It's not like it was with LB. It's not unhealthy. It's not over my head. I think he's going to be good for me. Speaking of LB, I was asking him what he was going to do when he graduates. Turns out he's going to do his masters in Amsterdam. And will be leaving in June/July time. June or July. That seems so far away. Not because I want him to stay - quite the opposite. I want him gone now. I don't want his presence hanging round here. I want to know that he's getting on with his life somewhere that's miles away from me. I don't want to be wary of nights out in case I see him. I don't want to be looking round the uni campus whenever I (rarely) attend lectures. I'm tired of it all. I'm tired of myself not getting over this. I'm tired of going to the fridge for wine whenever I've had a conversation with him.

Okay, maybe that was a bit too harsh. I will never be tired of wine.

Oooooh he just messaged me. He asked me why I was asking when he'd be leaving and if I was just after his flat. I replied saying that, nah I just wanted to know when I'd finally be rid of him. He replied to that with 'ouch that hurts'. AND THINK OF ALL THE POTENTIAL ANSWERS I COULD GIVE. All the one liners relating to how he hurt me etc etc. Oh if only I had the courage. Though it'd probably be a terrible idea, wouldn't it? Yes, most likely a terrible, terrible idea.

On another note: I bought a shit tonne of new pants yesterday. It was so exciting. I mean, seriously about 15 pairs. Not the ones that come in packs either. I actually took the time to choose proper nice ones. And then got to throw out some of my old ones. It can't just be me that gets excited about this. New pants!

Wore a new pair today. Felt invincible.