Mind The Gap…

Can we first spare a moment of silence for the man, the legend….50 Cent. The G that got rich and didn’t die trying, and recently managed to bankrupt himself in a coke storm of (borrowed) cars, gold chains and hoes.

If theres one thing that Mr Cent has taught me, its that even if you go from rags to riches on the back of successful r&b/rap songs that fetishise childhood pastimes and birthday parties, you can loose it all in a second thanks to an un-strategically placed dick.

Best give up now then.

Speaking of bankruptcy; I have recently moved to London.

I’m starting to think that when Kate Moss said “get the London look” she was actually referring to the unwashed, unshaven, fag toting, Sainsbury’s basic beer drinking mess I’m going to become if I leave the house one more time before I move out of this bloody city.

I went to use the tube the other day from Holborn to Oxford Circus and had to hand over £2.30, my firstborn child, my university degree and the clothes off my back.

Turned out it wasn’t even working, there was a tube strike on so I walked it.

I don’t know how people do it. If I stayed any longer I’d have to start letting my London Bridge down if you know what I mean.

Hint hint, nudge nudge.

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When I first got my swanky London summer job, with its decent pay at fancy establishment, I had visions of rocking up in a bedazzled black cab in head to to Chanel a la Posh Spice.

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Instead I have been reduced to hiding out on my duvet bunker and hoping for my bank to have a computer glitch and accidentally forget to “autosave” my overdraft…like those times you spend a week of all nighters at the library and and wake up to find that your essay has disappeared in a poof of smoke.

Cash donations are welcome.

Designer shoes even more so.

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HOW DO YOU PEOPLE DO IT?

P.S. London move is (thankfully) a temporary situation. T-14 days till I move to Mississippi…posts to come.

Overpacked and Unlucky…

Today I have come to realise one very important fact: I do not have the luck of the rabbit’s foot when it comes to team games.

Having a family mostly born and raised in East London, and coming from Essex I am an avid (in not knowledgeable) supporter of West Ham United football team (come on you Irons!)…who happen to be shit. I know, I know but come on, seriously?

I have just watched a horrifically ball-breaking World Cup game supporting…you guessed it, England. Also shit. Actually even more shit…I think I just lost at least half a full head of hair and my voice. Really Gerrard, really?

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I was in S house in school (yellow) who didn’t win the school cup for the whole 7 years I was there.

And naturally I was also yellow team at primary school sports day, in which we lost many an egg and spoon and sack race. Not that kind of sack. What’s wrong with you people.

You get my drift.

Also, put me in ANY kind of organised sports team and I will bet on myself that I will lose. 100/1.

I got scratched to pieces at school netball games (I’m serious, all girls grammar school netball players are vicious…and Essex ones at that tend to have particularly long talons), I dislocated my knee playing school hockey, I near drown if i try to swim for too long and don’t even get me started on indoor sports (dodge ball and basketball are terrifying when you’re five foot one).

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So when people like job interviewers ask me, “so, do you enjoy any extracurricular sport?”

“Ooohhh…errr…oooh…well…I like dancing”.

*Hopeful face*

*Crickets*

I suck.

I cannot join any sports societies at uni…I’ve found the hard way that you don’t get medals just for the taking part at this age.

Even when you plead puppy eyes.

No; cowering in the corner and ducking when a rugby ball hurtles towards you at 60 miles an hour is not acceptable…even though its scary. Shouldn’t there be laws against these things?

Ok so it was only going 10 miles an hour. So sue me.

*Petulant face*

Can someone please invent a non competitive, non contact, ball-less sport for me to play please and thank you.

Oh and a good team for me to support that’s none of the following: Arsenal, Chelsea, Man U….actually any of the existing ones.

I need it for my CV.

It’s “character building”, “encourages participation” and “teaches teamwork”.

P.S. On the note of jobs and CV’s I will be moving to the sunny land of the South of France in July to start work at a beautiful little hotel. Look out for mischief, mayhem and disasters. On an Overpacked and Underpaid near you, July 1st, Certificate 12-18…depending on the shenanigans…not those shenanigans…other ones…ones that don’t involve that…okay. *Awkward cough*. See you there!

The Liebster Award

*Makes a swishy entrance in large floppy hat, kaftan, bangles and sunglasses*

Oh hello there, haven’t seen you for a while…I’ve just been busy…you know, traveling, finding myself, learning the arts of yoga, hybrid flowga and feng shui and uncovering the true meaning of life through my own self improvement and discovery.

LOL

Actually I’m sat at my uni kitchen table in a blanket hanging like a wet jumper on a washing line.

JÄEGERBOMBS ARE POISON.

I really don’t have an excuse as to why I have failed to blog for over a month..or two (shhhhhhh).

I will accept my punishment.

Not that type of punishment you filthy beggars, put down the Fifty Shades of Grey…yes that’s it…now step away slowly…you can do it…no stop it…stop…put your hands away…in your pockets…well done.

Did you miss me?

Not even a little?

On my grand return to the blogosphere, I discovered that the lovely Bella, fellow blogger, Exeter lass and all around girl about town (I don’t know this for sure, I’ve never met her but she has a very lovely blog so one must make assumptions…go check her out, that’s an order) has nominated me for a Liebster award, so sit back and listen to me waffle on about myself.

Vain?

Me?

Nooooo

Here are the rules:

  • Share 11 facts about yourself
  • Answer the 10 questions set to you
  • Come up with 10 more questions
  • Nominate some other bloggers to take part!

 

  1. I hate talking about myself. Really…you don’t believe me? And this doesn’t count as a fact? Ok fine I’ll do another number one.
  2. I LOVE watching movies…I’m pretty sure I’ve seen every rom-com since the turn of the noughties. I’m currently taking a film class which means I can put this hobby to actual use.
  3. I stand at the grand old height of 5’1. Yes, I maybe pint sized but I’m hella powerful…I can totally lift like 3, 4 pounds…on a good day.
  4. I am a walking furnace. I radiate heat like the depths of hell. If the ice age ever returns, you have permission to grab me for life saving warmth.
  5. Despite this fact I adore summer, even though I “glow” like the north star. Nothing better than lying in the sun for a good couple of hours…or 20. Oh how I miss the luxury of holidays…oh the tan, oh the cocktails *le sigh*
  6. I am famous in my student flat for my undying love for the Taco who doesn’t love tomato-ey beef in a crispy shell covered with cheese *foodgasm*.
  7. And on that Mexican note…Tequila is my kryptonite.
  8. I am also addicted to crisps, to the extent where my mum even sent me an article on the fact that its the crunch of the crisp that I’m actually hooked on. Probable one of the most unhealthy addictions you can have. Please tell me there’s a crisp addiction clinic…do any of you know hypnosis?
  9. My biggest movie crush is probably Jude Law in The Holiday *drools*.
  10. At the grand old age of 19, I still have a little bit of a Sims addiction. Freeplay anyone? I know, I know, I’m just that cool right?
  11. I am the modern day Imelda Marcos, I am a self proclaimed shoe-aholic. I have too many pairs to count…don’t ask, my GCSE maths doesn’t stretch to those kind of figures.
  12. I don’t play any musical instruments…or any sports. Tried piano once, couldn’t move one hand separately to the other #epicfail.
And here are the answers to the questions Bella set me:
  1. What did you want to be when you were little? A teacher, a dancer, a mummy, a princess…ohh the fun I had dressing up my brother and cousins.
  2. Was there a particular blog that got you into blogging? What was it? Not in particular, but I started off reading fashion blogs from my favourite YouTubers.
  3. Where is somewhere in the UK you would love to visit but haven’t yet? I have always wanted to go to Ireland. This has absolutely nothing to do with the Irish accent. Nothing at all.
  4. What’s your biggest guilty pleasure? *Cough* food *cough*. If you hadn’t already noticed from the above.
  5. If you could only listen to 1 song for the rest of time, what would it be? My Baby Just Cares for Me by Nina Simone. Oh the times I pranced and trotted along to this tune.
  6. Where was the first place you went on holiday? My first holiday was to Disneyland. I was too young. I remember nothing. I will never forgive my parents.
  7. What’s your favourite month? September, the month of birthday presents, Indian summers and golden leaves.
  8. What’s your favourite book? Probably Great Expectations by Charles Dickens.
  9. Describe your dream house (briefly!) It has a jacuzzi and an indoor swing. The rest is negligible.
  10. What’s your supermarket of choice? ASDA all the way *slaps bum to advert theme tune*. Cheap? Who me?
My questions are:
  1. Where do you want to travel to?
  2. Tell us a funny story.
  3. What is your dream job?
  4. Why did you decide to start blogging?
  5. Who would play you in a movie about your life?
  6. Do you have any secret skills/party tricks?
  7. What is your favourite film?
  8. What would your super power be?
  9. Tell us your favourite/worst chat up line.
  10. If  you could live anywhere in the world where would it be?

I tag Kate, Zooey, Alex, Pretty Vacant Pirate, Drown in Melancholy and Seb, (should they wish to answer my terrible questions) and anyone else who wants to join in!

 Ready, set, GO!

Merry Christmas!

I’m a 4 year old.

I actually woke my mum up this morning because I was so excited for Christmas (well to be honest I do this every year but hey).

I don’t know if its the fact that I’ve been away at Uni, or just purely the fact I’m a Christmas nut but I just can’t contain my excitement, I’m bouncing off the walls.

Its one of the only days of the year where its guaranteed that I’ll wake up feeling elated…you know when you feel like you could just burst from happiness?

Would you like some hamburger with that cheese, Laura?

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Anyway, in the Christmas spirit, I would like to say a HUGE thank you to everyone who has read my blog this year, left me comments and been generally supportive. The other day I reached over 1000 views and I couldn’t be happier so THANK YOU.

I wish all of you health, happiness and prosperity, and the best Christmas Day (or whatever you may celebrate today) you could ask for.

Love,

Laura

What just happened?

If I could only use one word to sum up the past few weeks it would have to be bizarre.

To be honest, I’m surprised that I can even remember my own name…

Lets cut the crap.

*Life update klaxon*

One of my best friends from school came down from Essex for an insane night which started with a bottle of Belvedere…progressed to an out of character club snog (me), going back to another random fresher girl’s flat (it wasn’t as creepy as it sounds, she fell over in the road, we helped her up, she invited us over) and jacking a packet of smart price custard creams and a jam sandwich from the Christians (her…don’t ask)…and ended with a trip to a Catholic church (really, don’t ask).

My flatmate turned 20 so we had an amazing Mexican themed night complete with sombreros and fajitas and a whole bottle of tequila…or at least that’s what I can remember of it…turns out we went to a club afterwards…all I remember is waking up in my bed next to one of my flatmates having thrown up said bottle of alcohol and fajitas.

Note to self, medication and alcohol DO NOT mix…

I spent the majority of reading week barricaded in my room genuinely thinking I was going to die…

*Shudders*

I now have a second gold star on my flat’s chunder chart (a star being an exceptional chunder).

On that note, ever since I have been on a self imposed alcohol ban…it’s like being in the AA except I’m neither an alcoholic nor anonymous…

7 days sober…surely I deserve a prize by now?

Like maybe a bottle of champagne?

Actually scratch that…even the thought of anything stronger than orange juice sends chills down my spine…

I got the marks back for both of my first assignments (English and History). As it turns out procrastination is the key to the entirety of life, anyone that says otherwise may let themselves out…

Seriously, now.

Go.

Halloween rolled around and thanks to the general YOLO-ness and IDGAF-ness of my flat, we had no tickets to any events, and so we found ourselves queuing up for two and a half hours outside our student union club in the rain. I dressed as a flesh eating zombie and spent the whole night trying to ignore the fact that I was stone cold sober. The only guy we danced with was one who came up to us and creepily stood there “seductively” flapping the fake hand stuck to his forehead for ten minutes while we tried to escape. UV paint was blasted from canons…by the end of the evening my reflection gave me nightmares.

I somehow managed to procure my first ever job interview and then had to call to postpone it because of my flu *cough* alcohol poisoning *cough*. How I even managed to pass the online assessment is beyond me…no I can’t identify the “most likely” and “least likely” course of action if all your answers are bloody the same! It was more of a case of click one with your eyes closed and hope for the best…

I, the queen of all social awkwardness, went to a history social at a small local cocktail bar and…well…socialised. I finally managed to meet some people on my history course, all of whom were lovely and none of whom I remember their names. I have also developed a massive crush on almost every guy on my history course…and my friends said I didn’t have a “type”…

I’ve somehow found myself on the competition team for the wrong dance society, and now am going to be off to Southampton this weekend to compete. I came to practice one day to find I’d been paired up with a random guy by the captains and so I have to wake up at 4am and spend 6 hours on a coach after a late night out…

..why?

…Just why?

Bonfire night celebrations have snuck up on me and I’ve spent the last few days feeling horribly homesick…I’m almost at the point where I’m watching firework displays and bonfires on YouTube…

…ok so it’s way past that point.

I’ve even downloaded my Christmas playlist onto my iPod to console myself…

…A good old sing along to Michael Bublé’s White Christmas never fails to put me in a good mood, if you know what I mean.

No?

*Ba dooby do do do do be do, ba dooby do do do dooby do*

Don’t even try to tell my my Santa Baby dance isn’t the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen…

…I even used a tin of soup for a microphone.

Two days ago I stayed up ALL NIGHT chatting to two of my third year flat mates and then got up to go to a group meeting and dance practice the next day…

…I haven’t pulled an all-nighter since secondary school.

I didn’t choose the thug life.

The thug life chose me.

Admittedly I did sleep for 12 hours the next day…

Shhhhh

Social Media’d…

This is not a drill!

I repeat, this is not a drill!

I clicked some buttons (don’t ask me which ones) and now Overpacked and Underpaid has a Facebook page.

*Canned cheers*

Push my buttons at: https://www.facebook.com/overpackedandunderpaid

(NOT).

And yes, I know I am crap at all this social media malarky…

…I’m trying ok!

Like/follow/comment/tweet/instagram/tumblr/carrier pigeon me and I’ll get back to you.

Promise.

Over and out.

Stalk Me (No, Actually)…A Day in the Life…

Well considering today is the two month anniversary of Overpacked and Underpaid, I thought that you and I would…you know…get to know eachother a little more…intimately.

Here, I found your mind, I think you dropped it in the gutter…

Boom boom!

I’ll let myself out…

Anyway all of you lovelies that actually read my posts, (and I know some of you do…you can run but you can’t hide, I have wobbly bar charts and numbers…I KNOW WHERE YOU LIVE…actually I really don’t…but…err…I KNOW WHERE YOU BLOG…occasionally…when you follow me via WordPress), will know that I am studying History and English with Spanish at university, and so I thought I’d let you in on a typical day in my life…

Ooh aren’t you lucky!

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Monday 21st October 2013

Wake up at 7:30 to the unsurpassable sounds of radio Devon; listen to news of national and international importance such as “man in Devon has been going around shooting signs, to prove this, other man in Devon has been going around taking photos of said shot signs”, “outrage as lollipop man quits after being threatened with suspension for high-fiving kids rather than watching the road” and “small village interviews for a new local witch, no experience necessary” #srsbusiness.

Roll out of bed, shower and simultaneously flood and steam up bathroom, eat breakfast (cereal in a cup, stirred not shaken) and make my way up the hill for my first 9am history seminar on “the supernatural in early modern England”. Discus white witches for two hours, stare at hot history boys.

Walk back (making conscious effort not to pencil roll down hill) and whip up lunch out of remaining ingredients in fridge (eggs and…well…eggs), frantically do Spanish homework.

Head back up the bloody hill for double Spanish, spend two hours trying to stop myself doing something inappropriate/naughty out of sheer boredom (see: I’m Bored or How To: Procrastinate) as the class is a little too easy for me and I’ve done everything before.

Hot foot it over to my English lecture and search for tall friends so as not to look like a complete loner…try not to fall asleep or do any of the aforementioned inappropriate things, take lots of notes with one hand whilst simultaneously covertly stalking Facebook and Tumblr with the other.

Head back to flat, chat to flatmates and cook some dinner out of remainder of cupboard ingredients (tacos and…well…tacos).

Change into dance wear and head down to my beginners jazz class…roll around floor for an hour trying to ignore the indigestion from the food I’ve only just eaten and not poke one of my fellow dancers in the eye with my flailing hands and feet.

Head back to flat, spend evening in the kitchen with flatmates chatting and generally avoiding doing any work.

Do blogmin.

[Insert non-existent sex life here].

Sleep.

Well wasn’t that just…thrilling?

So there you have it, a day in the life of a British university student.

P.S. THANK YOU to all you lovelies who have been reading, following and commenting on my posts over the last two months I really, really appreciate it! Please keep sharing Overpacked and Underpaid with everyone you know, too many readers don’t spoil the blog ;).

GGG…

Oh hi October 2nd!

I’ve been off the internet for a few days, if you haven’t noticed, which I’m sure you have….

No?

*Whatever sign with fingers whilst simultaneously rotating on spinny chair*

Anyway…while I’ve been quite happily (or unhappily as the case may be…post coming soon) going about my daily life unawares, turns out I’ve been being watched….by stalkers…

Dun dun duuuuuuunnnn

…okay so maybe they’re not technically stalkers…It’s actually just my mum and nan…

It seems everyone else I know has parents and grandparents who don’t give a flying fuck about anything to do with technology, their Facebook is their own domain to upload as many drunken photos and sweary statuses as they like.

In my family however, it’s a little different…

My Nan’s nickname is Triple G, which if you don’t know is Granny Puckett in Hoodwinked…go watch it…that’s an order…

When we got her a laptop last year, we were convinced we were going to have to set her up on one of those silver surfer courses for absolute novices. What actually happened is we got her plugged in and connected to the internet, showed her how to open applications like internet and word…the next thing we know she’s friending us on Facebook, printing out photos, e-mailing our family in Australia and typing up all her letters.

Her explanation?

She had to use a typewriter when she was a secretary in the 1950s

*Mind blown*

A couple of weeks ago she told me she’d been reading my blog on blogger…totally not the reason I moved to WordPress…like at all…

A few days ago, she commented on a drunken foam party photo that one of my flatmates had uploaded and tagged me in.

Do you know how awkward it is to have to explain to someone you don’t know that well that yes, you do know that old lady who just posted on her wall “I thought you weren’t having any fun at Uni”, and yes, you may just be related to her…

My mum is also the real life version of the stalker mum in the movie New Year’s Eve…if your post even so much as threatens to enter her news feed, she’s read it…

I suppose sometimes aspects of it do come in handy, like being able to Skype them when my homesickness reaches unbearable levels (which it has at times…side effect of being really really close to your family)

Other times not so much…

…like when my nan made an international phone call I had to to pay for when I was living in Spain because she couldn’t x off the Norton anti-virus window…

*Smh*

One Lovely Blog Award…

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I’ve only been on WordPress for about three days but…turns out I’ve won an award!

…Kinda.

First of all I’d like to thank my parents for…you know….having me, my Nan’s cat Patches for being my earliest life companion, my primary school teachers for teaching me how to write…

…I jest…

But I would seriously like to thank the lovely Zooey from StudentZooey who apparently actually reads what I post and has an amazing blog so go on over and check her out. I’ll wait….

….done? No?

How about now…?

No? Now…?

Finally! Jesus, I haven’t got all day.

Oh god I really need to stop being so sarcastic, I’m really quite lovely in real life I promise.

According to this tag I now have to post seven facts about me; if you don’t fancy reading, feel free to use the right hand section of your track pad. Here we go *deep breath*…

  1. I am currently at university studying English and Classics with Spanish, though I’m not 100% sure I’m on the right course. Eventually I want to go on and work in the media.
  2. I’m trypanophobic, which basically means I have a fear of needles. Not copying you Zooey I swear… *crickets*. Before writing this post I honestly thought the word for fear of needles was hippophobia….and that’s exactly what I told them at the blood drive stall at my freshers fair the other day…idiot.
  3. I was a competitive street dancer for three years; my team won three local, two regional and three national titles and on the last national title got a bid to the USASF worlds.
  4. I am 5’1″. Yes you read that right. The best things come in small packages.
  5. I love to sing. I can’t, but I love doing it.
  6. I have a younger brother called James who’s a pre-professional footballer.
  7. I’m extremely impulsive but at the same time find it really hard to make decisions, even on the smallest of things.

Well wasn’t that not very interesting.

This is the hardest part for me because as I said I haven’t been on WordPress for very long at all and so I haven’t had a chance to properly scope blogs; but here’s seven that I’ve stumbled across and really enjoyed reading:

Diary of a Maths Student

Ravishing Rambles

Chris Bawler

Joanna Loves

Live Laugh Love Travel

Spices and Spatulas

And I Love Cabaret

Next up: the rules

  1. Add the “One Lovely Blog Award” image to your post
  2. Share seven things about you
  3. Pass the award on to seven nominees
  4. Thank the person who nominated you
  5. Inform the nominees by posting on their blogs

Thank you and goodnight…err morning…

Hello, Internet…

This spring, I made the life affirming decision that I was going to become “one that travels”, a jet setter, an explorer a – forgive me the cliche – a mini gap-yearer. One of those people, that when faced with the mosh pit known as graduate employment, they would be able to sit back in their rolly chair (the king of all chairs, or maybe that’s the rocking chair, ooh or the swing seat, there is much fun to be had on one of those…), an easy smile on their face and an air of cultured-ness about them as they recount how, in their travels across the Asian continent, they learnt to speak 5 different languages, to cook 7 different types of Asian cuisine like a native (would Sir like to come over for dinner to sample these aforementioned delights?), to survive on less than a shoestring budget and to volunteer and fundraise for 18 different children’s homes and charities whilst simultaneously “finding themselves” (through mastering 3 different types of yoga, buddhist meditation and a stay at a zen monastery, naturally). The graduate employer, so overcome by this worldliness and thoughts of beef stir fry (so many graduates, so little time for lunch) – note, he is yet to be cultured on the proper Asian names of the dishes, though come to think of it, it would be handy for those Chinese clients… – hires them without a second thought, in a senior position with company car and benefits.

In my mind, this was exactly what was going to happen. I was going to become a child of the world.

In reality, in a haze of A level induced insanity, overcome with a bout of wanderlust, and petrified that my mum was actually going to follow through on her threats to get me a job on my local ASDA fish counter; I accepted a offer to move to Spain for 3 months to be an Au Pair to two gorgeous children, four and one.

Perfect! I’d thought. I’d get to live in 3 different parts of Spain: Madrid, Benicassim and Laredo, practise my Spanish IRL (in real life), a subject I loved at school, and to top it all off, my job description was to “take the children to the beach everyday”. *Swoon*.

Instead of an uncomfortable 12 hour flight, horrifying humidity, getting lost in a place where I had no hope of learning the language, and having to navigate my way through a variety of U.F.S. (unidentifiable food substances) that would give me something akin to “Delhi belly”; I could swoosh around in a maxi dress and sunglasses on long walks, pushing the pram as passers by coo at the babies. And, of course, work on getting myself as close to the shade of mahogany as possible.

There would be lovely little boutiques and panaderías, ice cream and sun. If everything went pete tong, I could jump on a plane and be back in London in 2 hours. I hate travelling anyway, it’s a pain in the arse.

It sounds like a dream, you may say, and I thought so too, until I arrived and realised I was most definitely…

…Overpacked and underpaid…

P.S. these posts will all be out of synch as, like a good little blogger, I brought my iPad, pad and paper, camera…etc…etc, and then went and FORGOT MY IPAD CHARGER. (More on this later) and so I am already 5 weeks in to my trip and the first post is only going up now *insert slow claps here*. Therefore if I say “today” it most probably isn’t.

P.P.S. Oh dear have I overdone it with the post scripting? I kimd of like it, it’s like when you find a fiver tucked in to an old pair of jeans, a little nugget of extra goodness….I digress…

Hi, hello, ¡hola! My name is Laura, and if there does happen to be a soul out there in the big wide world reading what I write, then I very much hope you enjoy it, and know that there will be much, much more to come!

Besos xx