Just call me Jones…

…Bridget Jones, that is.

You know the scene in The Edge of Reason where Bridget attends Mr Darcey’s law council dinner in scary knickers and bad hair, insults everyone by calling them “balding upper-middle-class twits” and gets the quiz answer completely wrong?

Well extend that over a four hour period and throw in the fact that I am not a romanticised fictional character but in fact a real life person and you’ve basically got the evening I just had.

In a bid to be “proactive” and to “take part” *bleugh*, I attended a film society meeting this afternoon in a lovely little tea shop where I learnt about aperture and ISO and low key lighting…all very serious business.

Getting there I had my brolly blow inside out and rip and so I was subsequently drenched in torrential rain. I arrived looking like a drowned rat and spent the remainder of the evening cold and moist with hair that could pass for a Halloween wig.

Despite my appearance, I was then invited along to a screen talk on ‘A Dangerous Method’…you know, the film about Freud and Jung with Keira Knightly as Sabina Spielrein and….well…the infamous spanking scene.

Seems lovely you say…

Well yes it was, but I don’t think I’ve ever felt more out of place in my life.

I went with three other people I’d never met before, all of whom turned out to be studying film and so we’re wonderfully cultured and having conversations about filmmakers, directors and critical film theory.

My equivalent to the “lucky star” moment, and in fact my only contribution to the conversation was: (talking about Cate Blanchett) “I thought she was good in Elizabeth”.

*Slow clap*

While they were smoking cigarettes and discussing the cinematography of  ‘Sans Soleil’ I was waddling along trying desperately to remember any kind of half decent film I’d seen in the last five years and not to blurt out that my favourite director is, in fact, Richard Curtis and ‘Love Actually’ or perhaps ‘About time’ may just be my favourite film.

How anyone can be so painfully uncool is beyond me.

Oh and did I mention, as I walked back with everyone to the wrong side of campus, I had the good fortune to be able to top off the night with my first trudge up bloody Cardiac Hill…which I didn’t even realise was Cardiac Hill until I got to the top and wondered why I was dripping with sweat and having a mini coronary.

I think it would be safer for me to avoid all social interaction in the future…

P.S. Yes, I have heard the terrible news about the new Bridget Jones book…I haven’t even read it yet and I’m already in mourning!

The only way is Essex…

I’m home!

I’m in complete bliss…I’ve seen my family, I’ve had a three hour soak in an actual bath, I’ve been cooked food and bought clothes and spent the entire morning curled up by the fire doing some reading.

What’s that? You want me to address the elephant in the room? AKA the title of this post?

Yes, believe it or not, I hail from the great and infamous county that is ESSEX.

I can honestly tell you though, the reality of Essex is a lot different to what you see on TV…

Do the OAPs at my bus stop wear Ugg boots, leggings and tracksuits?

Yes.

Have I ever owned a pink velour tracksuit, a Paul’s Boutique handbag, fake eyelashes and glitter heels?

Yes.

Despite the stereotypes…and I’m sorry be the one to tell you this…but in actual fact the majority of Essex is countryside. You’re more likely to bump into a loose cow than Amy Childs or Mark Wright (sadly), and yes, this has actually happened to me before; two cows escaped from the pen on the hill and were mooching about on the main road…THIS ISN’T INDIA. I’ve also been stuck on a train on my birthday that was held up by an AWOL ‘orse…oh to be in the country.

My hometown is surrounded by fields; we have one supermarket, a few restaurants, a marina and a farm and that’s about it. I associate home more with open fields, long walks by the river and the smell of horse manure than fake tan, fake tits and hair extensions.

Disappointed?

I thought so…

The people at uni sadly don’t seem to be as educated on the geographical reality of my home county…

I’ve had numerous reactions to telling people where I’m from, from the ever-so-lovely “that’s a shame” to “how comes you don’t have an accent?” to being given ‘the eye’ because they automatically assume I’m easy.

Le sigh.

Trust me I’ve heard all the jokes.

In fact I’ll just write some now to save you the trouble:

Q. What do Essex girls use for protection during sex?
A. Bus Shelters.

Q. Why does an Essex girl wear knickers?
A. To keep her ankles warm.

Q. What’s the difference between an Essex girl and an ironing board?
A. Occasionally you have trouble getting the legs apart on an ironingboard.

Q. Why are Essex girls only allowed 30 minute lunch breaks?
A. It takes too long to retrain them if they take an hour.

Q. How do you make an Essex girl laugh on a Saturday?
A. Tell her a joke on a Wednesday.

ARE YOU SATISFIED?

As a joke I’m considering going back down south in a pink velour tracksuit, my Paul’s Boutique Barbie bag, some fake Uggs and lashings of sparkly jewellery. It would be committing social suicide; people don’t even dress up to go out clubbing at uni (pffft), but it would be so worth the looks on my flatmates’ faces.

I’m sure I could get a hold of some white stilettos.

*Rubs hands together gleefully*

He he.

P.S. My friend may be coming down from Essex to visit next week, watch this space for the mischief we get up to…

P.P.S. If you’re from another country or just have no idea what the “Essex girl” stereotype is I’m referring to go here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Essex_girl

IT’S NOT TRUE.

Swear.

Freshers Flu 2.0…

I was doing so, so well.

Everyone around me was dropping like flies but I was dodging those germs like a ninja in a laser maze.

*Does Kung Fu Panda pose*

I wasn’t ill for the whole of freshers week…or the week after that…or the week after that…

Until the dreaded superbug emerged: FRESHERS FLU 2.0.

No one is safe.

I’m convinced that the air in every lecture hall I’ve walked into this week has been 99.9% airborne virus and 1% oxygen.

I am now sick with fresher’s flu’s uglier, more contagious cousin, which apparently can’t be cured with antibiotics.

And apparently also impairs what was left of my GCSE maths skills.

When I went to the doctors he told me that I needed to get lots of rest and not overexert myself.

YEAH BECAUSE I’VE TOTALLY BEEN RUNNING AROUND AND IGNORING MY EXTREME LETHARGY, HACKING COUGH, SENSITIVITY TO LIGHT AND NOISE, ACHING MUSCLES AND GENERAL SENSE OF CORPSE-NESS.

When I asked my best friend who’s currently in medical school to cure me…she said she’s not qualified.

WHAT! YOU’RE BECOMING A DOCTOR!

I have a bit of a confession to make…

I’m one of the super annoying people who kind of wants the world to start revolving around them when they’re ill.

If you couldn’t already tell that…from the shouty capitals..

All activities must be suspended in favour of showering me with pity and get well soon soup!

…yup.

Sorry.

I may as well just walk around wearing this:

Patient : Tell me doctor, is this flu serious?
Doctor : Well I wouldn’t advise you to start watching any serials on TV.

I’ve watched all two-and-a-bit series of New girl over the last few days. I was going to start on Breaking Bad but I don’t think my brain fog will allow me to extend myself to such a mentally stimulating activity.

Valentines Day seems a more viable alternative..

…or maybe just Shrek.

Oh god, I’m starting to go cross eyed.

This post was supposed to be funny, this has very quickly descended into a insight into my flu-riddled brain. I’m so gonna regret posting this when I’m better.

*MUST SALVAGE POST*

Here have some e-cards…

Ha ha..

..this is funny…

Right?!

RIGHT?!

*Passes out*.

How To: Procrastinate

It turns out that the year above us said that they’d like more assessment in their yearly review…

…bastards.

Guess who already has a essay that counts towards their yearly grade?

Guess who has to submit that essay by 10am tomorrow morning?

Guess who’s writing this post to avoid finishing said essay?

I’ll give you a clue, the answer’s me.

If you asked me what is the one single thing I am best at in the world, my answer would be procrastination.

I honestly do have some kind of deep rooted fear of deadlines. I get so worked up and anxious that I feel sick and literally can’t do any work. I hate tests more than anything. Once the deadline has passed, I’m quite happy to tap away and finish the work…

In fact I’ve just started reading the Odyssey two weeks after it was set…it’s quite good actually…

…I told you I was nuts.

My fear of deadlines is so bad that I literally revised the night before every one of my GCSEs, AS levels and A levels…my English Lit A level I revised for on the day of the exam!

I think I may have found a solution to my predicament…LIE.

I need people to legitimately convince me that my deadlines are a week earlier than they actually are, so that after I’ve had a mild heart attack trying to finish the work 2 minutes before the deadline, I can heave a sigh of relief and finesse it over the next seven days…

I know, I know, I’m far to clever, I’d see straight through the lies.

*Cough*

I also have a strong aversion to re-reading anything that I write. You’d literally have to handcuff me to a chair and put me in a headlock to force me to re-read this post before I publish it…or any of my essays…

Please don’t read too closely…there will be spelling mistakes.

As the sensai of procrastination, I thought I’d give you a few examples of how to procrastinate…

These are just what I’ve done today:

  • Buy strawberry laces, plait them then eat them.
  • Give yourself a strawberry laces mustache.
  • Practice speaking in an Australian and American accent.
  • Make tea.
  • Play The Sims Freeplay.
  • Watch New Girl or [insert any other humorous 20 minute American sitcom here].
  • Make oatmeal cookies.
  • Blog.
  • Snapchat your best friend.
  • Make tacos.
  • Eat tacos.
  • Spin around on chair.
  • Read books other than your set texts.

Well now you know what my day consisted of…what have you been up to?

Procrastination suggestions below please.

Oh and here’s my favourite YouTube video on procrastination, just to, you know fuck up your life even more…

Vintage danisnotonfire.

He he.

I’m a klutz…

Oh god, I looked up the word klutz to make sure I spelt it right  before writing this post and now its morphed into gibberish.  Go on, repeat it like 10 or 20 times and see what happens….

Anyway on to today’s topic, which is essentially a rant about how completely ditzy and stupid I am.

Now it’s not like I just woke up today and suddenly realised it; I’ve had 19 years of being completely clumsy and uncoordinated…what prompted me to write this post is something that happened the other day…

…I was walking back from my English lecture, quite happily chatting away to my flatmate, when all of a sudden…

*KAZAM*

…guys…

I SLIPPED ON A FUCKING BANANA PEEL!

…STRAIGHT ONTO MY ARSE.

…IN PUBLIC.

This is the kind of that would only ever happen to me…it’s not even supposed to happen in real life! It’s a comedic device used in old black and white films!

If there’s a door I will walk into it, if there’s wet paint I’ll touch it, if there’s a staircase I’ll fall up it (yes I broke my wrist falling up the bloody stairs).

Never, I repeat NEVER ask me to hold anything of any kind of value.

When I was younger my mum had to put huge orange stickers on the french doors because I’d literally run into them every day and smash my head.

Someone bubble wrap me, quick, before I do any more damage.

P.S. It’s become a running joke in my flat that if anything awful is going to happen, it will happen to me. I am the unluckiest person on the planet. In fact I think they should add “doing a Laura” to the dictionary…well if twerk can make it in there…

P.P.S. Bollocks, literally just as I finished typing the first post script I just tipped a bottle of water over my folder…le sigh…

Out on the Push…

Now you may have heard the turn of phrase “out on the pull” but sometimes when your milkshake brings all the boys to the yard, you kind of don’t want it to…

Bridget Jones

Being at university has been my first “proper” taste of the clubbing lifestyle, and can I just say, I’ve had my arse grabbed more in these last two weeks than I have in my entire life…but I digress…

As you may have picked up on my previous posts I’m a little more traditional *cough* boring *cough* when it comes to meeting guys, and I’d much rather meet them in a daytime setting and be able to have a proper conversation with them…mainly so I can find out sooner rather than later if they’re a complete weirdo, axe murderer or rapist.

Take for example the guy I met last night. Tall, good looking, third year, bad/awkward dancer…always a bad sign.

I danced with him because my flatmate was getting off with his friend. He asked me if I wanted to make out with him. I said no. He kept asking me whether I was sure I didn’t want to go and sit down. I said no. He asked me again. I finally relented.

We sat down and proceeded to have the most awkward shouty conversation (clubs aren’t meant for talking, I couldn’t hear a bloody word he was saying…*smile and wave boys smile and wave*). He told me he was a geography student and then proceeded to ask me a tonne of questions about the exact location of my halls.

*RUN AWAY* *RUN AWAY*

Now it probably was just the fact that he was into mapping, because we’d both made it extremely clear that nothing was going to happen but I still felt like something was off…

…who the hell wants to sit down and have a stilted conversation with a stranger at a club?

Not me…I’ll be the one breaking it down on the dance floor…

*Shakes it like Beyonce*

*Slut drops*

*Re-dislocates knee*

One Lovely Blog Award…

onelovelyblogaward-1[1]

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…