“

Leave your apartment looking terrible. Walk to the deli and see your usual deli guy’s eyes start to widen at your disheveled appearance. This would’ve horrified you yesterday but today it makes you smile. You’ve decided that everything that made you worry will now make you smile.

Walk with better posture. Order two helpings of dessert. Ask someone to take you to a doctor’s appointment and refuse to feel guilty about it. You would do the same for them so why should you feel like you’re putting anyone out? Stand by your opinion that The Shins are a good band even when your friends give you hell over it. This is thrilling. Openly loving The Shins has never felt so liberating.

Tell your father he’s a jerk because he is. Tell your mother that you love her because you do. Don’t tell anyone that you love them if it’s not true, if they don’t deserve it. It’s a privilege to be loved by you. Your emotional slutty days are effectively over.

”

—	How To Stop Caring So Much

I sleep in the middle of the bed

On Saturday I went to Brighton for a huge house party that all my friends were at; there was alcohol and drugs and Triston and Cat and all my favourite people and good music and good vibes. We had a barbecue first and then I got really drunk and had some narcotics and cried three times even though I'm not normally a crying type of drunk and I  felt awfully funny the next day.

Today I babysat a 7 year old boy for the first time; we watched teenage mutant ninja turtles and a silly film starring Vin Diesel and played with his soldier/knight/wizard figurines and some toy jungle animals and some toy cars and I let him eat some crisps even though I don't think he was really allowed. He told me about how sometimes his sister is annoying and about his trip to the beach with his cousin who can't drive because she nearly cut her hand off and about his best friend Harry B and he showed me his hamster called Humphrey and his bunk bed and where they kept their cutlery and where they kept their washing machine and where they kept their shoes.

Guess which one I was looking forward to more, and which one I ended up sort of having a better time doing?
Life is funny like that sometimes.

Graduation OOTD (sort of)

I'm graduating tomorrow, ooh er. Here is what I'm wearing because WHY NOT?

(without the belt)

They didn't have my shoes on the website but they're vaguely like this except the detailing is all over and silver

Photo doesn't really tell you much, colour in real life is a sort of pastel nude

YAY FOR GRADUATING

Write My Life: Secondary School (part 3)

It was at this stage in my life that I became close to my all time best friend, Cat. As much as I was still friends with my group at school, there was always so much drama and intensity with them, and a lot of the time I felt as if they didn't really 'get' my laid back, happy go lucky personality. I started to get frustrated with the way they would turn everything into a huge drama; the tensions between Anna and myself along with a very messy break up with Sophia (having only been together around a month) didn't really help matters either, so I essentially broke away from the group, along with two of the other girls, Laura and Rhianne. I felt that Laura and Rhianne were far closer to each other than they were to me, and although I have some great memories of the times we hung out together in that last year of secondary school, I also remember having that same feeling of not really 'clicking' with them.
So around this time I had grown closer with Cat, a super cool (if a bit weird and nerdy) girl  in the year below me at school who I became friends with at an equally super cool (if a bit weird and nerdy) teenage disco held in our local leisure centre at the tender ages of 12 and 13. Yep. However it was when she moved away to a tiny village the other side of Reading that we both agree made us realise how much fun we had hanging out together. In fact I missed it so much I would trek the nearly 2 hour journey by train and bus every weekend to go visit her, where we would generally stay up all night watching bad cheesy horror films and drinking way too much energy drink (which remain to this day probably my all time favourite memories from being a teenager).
And for the first time since I had moved out of London, I felt like I really clicked with someone. We were both kind of weird and goofy and disliked at school, we had nearly identical tastes in music and films and we appreciated doing the same things (primarily sneaking out and going on adventures around where she lived, harassing people we knew to hang out with us and trying to get our hands on booze). Somewhat unfortunately for us, the blossoming of this wacky wonderful friendship also coincided with my aforementioned mental rebellious teenage phase. As much as Cat played a part in my mischief, I genuinely feel like I would have done all that crazy stuff even if we weren't friends - I was, after all, still a hormonal sexually confused teenager with some angst and frustration to burn. However, my parents didn't see it that way, and after my infamous crazy house party of January 2008, they took it upon themselves to inhibit our friendship in any way possible (as in, literally banned us from seeing each other for six months), and didn't really reverse their somewhat misguided opinions until I left for university and it became clear that nothing was going to stop us from being the best of friends.
We're now reaching a pretty bleak part of my life, and honestly if it wasn't for Cat I really don't know how I would have coped with my first year in Sixth Form.

I'm going to take you down six feet under ground and show you around this place I've been living

So I'm gonna do that unnecessary thing where I unnecessarily show you all the things I unnecessarily bought cool okay, but first also I GOT MY TONGUE RE-PIERCED which is all very exciting and sore and stuff. Then I went and bought:

Write My Life: Secondary School (part 2)

So I don't even really know where to begin with this new juncture in my life after joining this new group. I suppose we could only really be described as 'alternative'; we were into rock and metal music, and as the emo era emerged we dived in whole heartedly into the hairstyles, the music and the cynical way of looking at life. We befriended a group of similarly 'alternative' boys from Reading and would spend almost every weekend skulking around shopping centres with them clad in black, listening to My Chemical Romance and persuading unsuspecting passers-by to buy us cigarettes.

It was around this time in my life that I also seriously began to question my sexuality; whilst the other girls in my friendship group were taking it in turns to get off with the most attractive boy we knew, I was falling for a girl called Anna. She would hang around with our group quite a lot but had other friends in the year too and wasn't really as inclusive as we were. I should probably point out that I did give the whole heterosexuality thing a go first of all; my first ever boyfriend was Lee Burkwood, a cousin of Laura who was my best friend within our group. And I was very attracted to him - in fact my first kiss was with him, in the oh so romantic setting of Woking cinema watching She's The Man. However things didn't last, mainly because we were 14 and he lived  miles away in North London.

After that brief relationship I had my very first sexual experience, which was with Anna in a hotel room on our Year 9 school trip to Barcelona. Anna and I had been very close friends up until this point; the day after it happened however she point blank ignored me and continued to do so for the next few months, which was incredibly upsetting. Luckily for me, when I told my friends they were all amazingly supportive and on my side of things, which I think made my slow and largely painful transition towards identifying as a lesbian a lot easier.

I think my subsequent relationship (or lack of it) with Anna probably deserves a separate post which I'm not sure I have the will power to write, so suffice to say that from that moment up until we left for university, we consistently went through these three general phases (with varying degrees of intensity).

 1) Anna avoids all contact with me, Anna is nasty to me and those who associate with me, Anna spreads various rumours at school about me, mainly me being a lesbian.
2) Anna starts being friendly to me at school. Anna starts sending me suggestive texts, to which I largely respond. We largely text about creating scenarios where we have a chance of getting together again. We never talk about these things in person; we don't even really flirt in person. Texts become more and more provocative. We eventually reach a stage where we've decided a time and a place where we can get together.
3) Anna freaks out. Anna texts me calling the whole thing off, or saying that it was all a joke, that she isn't really gay, that I'm being too clingy, that we need to pretend none of this ever happened. Repeat from stage 1.

Stage 2 could (and did) crop up at any time, but it was generally when I was in another relationship or made it apparent that I had a crush on somebody else. After Barcelona I began a relationship with a Leigh Pooley who I met through Felicity; I think this is the only relationship that I'm quite ashamed of - not because of what Leigh was like, if anything he was wonderfully kind and caring towards me, but because of how I acted. I was confused about Anna and I only really went out with him so I could say I had a boyfriend, so I had someone to make out with at the back of Reading station like all my other friends. However the attraction just wasn't there for me, and despite giving it a go with him twice (I think in total we were together around 6 months) I ended it both times because I just didn't fancy him. I also had a very brief relationship with Sophia, who was one of the girls in our group. Now she I was desperately attracted to; I think you could say she was my first love. Again I don't really want to go into the details and there'll be more on her later, but we were together for around two months before she essentially shattered my heart.

We've now reached around halfway through Year 10 (age 15), so I should probably put relationships on hold for a moment to say that this was the beginning of my pretty mental rebellious teenage phase. I was doing very badly in school; I had been kicked out of both my German class and my ICT class, was put on report (essentially close surveillance in each class with reports back to your parents) and was generally rude and abrasive to all the teachers I didn't like - which was most of them.

By the time Year 11 came around I was on pretty low rapport with my parents too; I was getting consistently bad marks in everything except English, I got my nose pierced without telling them, I started bleaching and straightening my hair, I would disappear every weekend without so much as a goodbye, and most significantly, I held a huge house party while they were away in France culminating in a lot of broken/smashed objects and the police being called.

Write My Life: Secondary School (part 1)

By the time secondary school rolled around I was desperate to attend Charters School which was where most of my friends from St Francis were going, but instead my parents enrolled me in the Marist Senior School - an all girls Catholic school. My first day was very nerve racking as nobody from my old school was going there, and as I arrived it seemed that everybody had at least one other person from their primary school to hang around with, and often whole groups of girls stayed huddled together uninviting to anybody who tried to join them.

Fortunately enough for me, we were sat alphabetically in our first class, and I met Felicity Carpenter, who also had nobody from her primary school with her and who subsequently became my best (and only) friend throughout Year 7. We hit it off straight away and I have to say I only have fond memories of my first year at the Marist, despite the fact that for the first time in my life I was both incredibly unpopular and picked on incessantly. I think the reason it didn't really bother me was that Felicity and I knew that we were different but we didn't really give a shit, because we had each other; I remember it getting to the point where we would deliberately act weird and mental (once we announced to the class that we had converted to Buddhism, promptly sat cross-legged on the floor and started meditating and chanting loudly and if anyone came near us we swatted them with the blackboard eraser) just because we could and it was highly entertaining to see the popular girls' perplexed looks.

The main thing that Felicity and I had in common were our huge imaginations (something which I really miss now); most of our time together was spent writing our own books and play scripts and then acting them out together, and it was honestly some of the best fun I've ever had. In our breaks at school we would pore over chapter drafts and scene settings and our character developments in notebooks, and at weekends we could spend all day in the park running around acting a particular scene over and over again until we had it perfect. They were mainly fantasy based stories; we would be witches casting spells on the evil girls at our school, or adventurers on a great quest, or pirates sailing the seven seas, or wise elves destined for greatness but hindered by the wicked trolls of the east... you get the idea. We even wrote a whole novel and an  uncompleted sequel which was some wonderful amalgamation of all the things we read and loved; there was the Faraway Tree from Enid Blyton's stories with different lands, I think my character was half pirate and half pixie, all our family members were plucked out of various books (Felicity's character's father was Remus Lupin, for example) and two of the main girls we disliked from school were turned into evil world-conquering monsters that could only be defeated by some kind of magical highlighter pen and the fact that my character could morph into a dog, or something.

Anyway, I digress. Unluckily for me Felicity transferred schools at the end of Year 7; we remained close until the age of 14 or so when unfortunately we seemed to mature at very different rates. Whilst I had started veering towards the world of relationships, make up, drinking, and well, being a teenager, Felicity seemed stuck in our make believe worlds and refused to talk about anything else whenever we met up. I went along with her for as long as I could, but began to find it all a bit childish and difficult to really immerse myself in make believe as I had before, and so our friendship fizzled out.

Year 8 was pretty tough for me; with Felicity gone I was left with approximately 0 friends and a 'weird girl' reputation. I was bullied by a gang of girls in my year who called themselves 'The Pinks'; they would throw my exercise books all over the classroom during break times shouting 'geek!' and take the piss out of my curly hair and braces.

However, after a couple of months luck struck me when a girl called Molly Nye sidled into our classroom one day and asked if I wanted to hang out with her group of friends. And thus, my very own  teenage 'clique' was born, and the girls in this group remained my closest friends (give or take a lot of hiccups and drama) pretty much until Year 11. I wouldn't say we were the most unpopular crowd in the year, but we weren't far behind. However, again, I didn't really give a shit about being picked on anymore because I had like-minded friends.

can't stop addicted to the shindig

I DID ALL THE SHOPPING AND I DON'T EVEN CARE LOOK HERE LOOK AT ALL THE THINGS I UNNECESSARILY BOUGHT ISN'T IT GREAT

(in case you can't tell this is a brown eyebrow pencil)

(got this in the shade 'Gothic')

For the next 3 conditioners before you're all like HOW CAN SHE AFFORD 3 FULL SIZE EXPENSIVE CONDITIONERS I bought mini 100 ml versions of each one cos they were on offer breh (like a quid each) but I can't be bothered to find images of the small versions

And the reason I bought such an obscene amount of conditioner was because I also bought these:

And saving best for last...

A gorgeous silver lion ring from the North Laines; oh, I also spend 15 quid on lunch at Wagamamas. YAY FOR BUYING THINGS YOU DON'T NEED WITH MONEY YOU DON'T HAVE.

Write My Life: Primary School

I attended Vita et Pax (Life and Peace) primary school in Southgate. On my first day I remember feeling very sad as I arrived, because my cousin Mikey who was a few years above me had walked me to school and promptly left me outside my classroom door. As I walked inside I saw all the other children being hugged and kissed goodbye by their parents. I'm not going to lie, to this day I still begrudge my parents for not taking me to my very first day of school and I swear to god I'm going to hug and kiss the hell out of my children when I take them. Anyway, I soon cheered up as I saw my friend Matthew who had been to my nursery school and my teacher announced that we were going to be watching The Lion King (my all time favourite).

I'm not sure how to say this without coming across as insanely immodest, but throughout my primary school years at Vita I was consistently top of the class at pretty much everything - especially french, music and reading. Looking back now as an extremely lazy and unmotivated student, it's hard to believe I'm the same person; my parents always proudly tell me the story of how my teacher called them in specifically to tell them in hushed tones that at four years old I had the reading age of a ten year old. I was in French club, music club, speech and drama club and reading club; I played the lead in most of the school plays and after we moved before my last year there, the headteacher told my parents I would have been chosen as Head  Girl.

My first best friend at school was an Irish girl called Caitlin McIntyre; until she moved to Ireland in Year 3 we were inseparable. To be honest the only real memories I have of the time we spent together were when we were naughty, which was pretty frequent particularly in my first few months at school. We had a habit of running around the playground, picking up other people's jumpers left on benches and throwing them in the outdoor bins. We were never caught, but the headteacher once mentioned it an assembly and I still remember looking gleefully at each other and whispering 'that was us!'. My parents were also called in during my first year because we had picked up another lovely habit of filling out mouths with water from the drinking fountain and then spitting it at other children. After she left I guess I didn't really have a best friend, but I had a good group of friends and I remember always feeling popular, loved and fulfilled. Sigh, what happened?

Well, we moved out of London. When I was 10 years old my mum was offered a new job in Windsor, and a couple of weeks before my 11th birthday we moved to Ascot in Berkshire. And oh wow, was it a change and a half. Being so used to the vibrant, multicultural hustle and bustle of North London, walking down Sunninghill High Street with my mum on our first day there was a massive shock to me. The main things I remember noticing were a distinct lack of any race or ethnicity other than white people, and a lack of cinema/shopping centre/swimming pool/ all the things I had come to take for granted being within a 10 minute walk from my house.

My first day of my new school, St Francis, wasn't much better. I was bullied for my accent, bullied for having curly hair, bullied for having no friends yet (yes, on my first day), bullied for being clever and bullied because, well, I was the new girl. It's hard to explain but there was just something different about the children in London and those in Ascot. My classmates in Ascot, although the same age as the friends I had just left, were coarser, cruder, already growing a sense of what I can only describe as 'bitchiness'. They swore more, they knew more about sex (on my first day one of my male classmates shouted 'Jack wants you to suck his dick!' at me, something which I had literally never heard of before), the girls were already starting to wear make up and style their hair, the boys talked about pornography and the size of their dicks.

I think the bullying for my curly hair and being called fat within my first week strikes me as interesting now. In London I went to a pretty diverse school; there were black children, Muslim children, Greek children, fat children, thin children, disabled children... and it was literally never commented on. It wasn't even something I was particularly aware of; so coming to a new school and my appearance being immediately commented on really confused me at the time. I was like, what is your point?

Things gradually got better; I eventually made some friends, I still excelled in the first part of my year there but by the end I was being sent to the headteacher's office every other day for some rebellious act or other. I guess I was just rebelling against the situation, rebelling against being forced to become self-aware and conscious of my body at 11 years old, rebelling against growing up in such a negative environment. I really think that if I had stayed in London I would have become a completely different person.

take me to the finish line, oh my heart breaks every step that i take.

I was in France on holiday with my parents; on a visit to one of the markets we used to frequent I persuaded them to buy me a new top from one of the stalls. It was cut off the shoulder, cotton and a khaki green colour with a camouflage pattern; I loved it because I thought it made me look grown up and sophisticated.

The next day, proudly sporting my new top, we went to the supermarket, and I wandered off to look at the make up aisle. As I was browsing, I felt a hand patting my bum and I turned around smiling, assuming it was my mother. I remember exactly how it felt for my smile to instantly fade as I was faced with a middle aged man, leaning in towards me, stinking of booze. As I reeled back, he kept his hands groping my bum and thighs and whispered something in French that I didn't understand. All I managed to do was stutter 'Je suis Anglaise' and run off to find my parents.

When I told my mum about it, she laughed at me. She told me, in so many words, it happened because I had wanted to wear a top that made me look older than I was, and that my tits were growing too fast. I was nine years old.

Part of me often thinks that this might be the main reason I find it so fucking difficult to like or appreciate my mother.

Write My Life: The Early Years

I was born on Friday 29th November 1991 at Chase Farm Hospital in North London, all screaming kicking 6 and a half pounds of me. These are the things I know about my birth: because I had both jaundice and was REALLY FRIGGIN' COLD (it was November and I was born at 4:30am after the hospital heating had been switched off all night) I was a slightly green-ish colour, yum; I was very long and very thin (always an attractive look for a baby), and I spent the first few hours of my life in one of those incubators to warm up because of aforementioned freezing conditions.

I suppose I have two earliest memories, I'm not sure which came first but in both I must have been about 3 or 4 years old. The first was a time we got burgled; it was the middle of the night and two policemen walked into my bedroom. They asked me where mummy and daddy's room was, and I pointed upstairs. I remember feeling as if it was all a terrible nightmare at the time, but the next day feeling very proud that I had in some way 'helped to solve a crime'.

The second earliest memory I have was also at night. I should probably point out now that something which pretty much defined my early childhood is the fact that I could lucidly dream (i.e. have dreams where I knew I was dreaming and could control it in some way). These were often nightmares and often extremely vivid; it came to a point where I even taught myself tricks to wake myself up when in a nightmare. I still remember most of the nightmares I had as a young child, probably even more so than things that happened in reality (I might do another blog post about these dreams in more detail later). Anyway, so I used to get this recurring nightmare where I'd be chased by a huge wolf, usually in some woods. I'd realise I was dreaming and wake myself up, and find myself in my bed at home. The second I then realised something wasn't right, I see the wolf crouching in the corner of my bedroom. I scream, he pounces, I wake up.

 It was after I'd had one of these dreams, and I must have been screaming whilst awake because my dad came into my bedroom to see what was wrong. He then proceeded to lie down next to me and hush me to sleep, and when I woke up the next morning he had fallen asleep there. My dad was never (and still isn't) the most affectionate of parents; I can count the number of times he's hugged me on one hand. He was also very strict when I was younger and I was very afraid of him, and so I think this has stuck with me because it's one of the only times I felt genuinely safe around my dad, and loved.

I only remember a few bits and pieces about my time at nursery school, and in retrospect they all pretty much point to me being very rebellious, jealous and sexually confused, so YAY HERE GOES.

1. My best friend was a boy called Antony; he had brown curly hair and always wore a dark green jumper, and I was very jealous of him because he was a boy and I was a girl.
2. My other best friend was a girl called Scarlett. She had very long hair and I was jealous of her because she had a plastic lion king play set. Once I went round her house and I stole the little plastic Scar lion, and then for months afterwards every time I heard a police siren I was convinced they were coming to get me for stealing it.
3. We used to have dress-up time once a week with a huge box of costumes to choose from, and my favourite by far was the Spiderman one. I remember even then feeling different from the other girls, because all the girls would choose princess dresses and it was the boys who chose superhero costumes. I've also just remembered how my parents would always try to make me wear dresses, and I once refused to go to a classmate's birthday party unless I was allowed to wear my old jeans and lion t-shirt.
4. We had a nursey teacher called Debbie and she was tall and thin and wore her hair in a very short boy cut. All the children (including me, I'm ashamed to say), used to giggle at her and always ask her if she was a man or a woman. But secretly I held a weird fascination with her; I used to think about her all the time and even named one of my teddy bears after her.
5. I used to be deliberately naughty right before tidy up time so that I'd get to sit in the naughty chair instead of having to tidy up hehehehehe.

So I think that's pretty much all I remember before starting primary school, other than my dreams/ nightmares which as I said, I'll probably write about in a separate post.

this all was only wishful thinking.

Things That Make Me Anxious

Beautiful women
Phone calls from strangers or people I don't know very well
Eating in front of strangers or people I don't know very well

Having to be in a certain place at a certain time, especially if it's somewhere I've never been before
Being late/ having to rush
Deadlines
Large crowds/ strangers
Lifts
Driving in places I haven't been before
Speaking in university seminars
Children


My Biggest Fears

Going blind
Losing a limb
Being trapped somewhere small with no means of escape, especially a submarine
Abandonment
Being boring/ ordinary/ nondescript
Death of loved ones
My own death
Going crazy
Not being able to travel as much as I want to because of money etc.
Beautiful women

Things That Turn Me On

Pointy teeth
Lesbians with those curly sideburns
Girls' legs in tights and converse
Piercings
Angular features
Introverts
Dark hair with light eyes
Skinny jeans
Men in shirts
Dreadlocks (on men and women)
Attractive laughs
Husky voices
Girls with 'dyke' hair
Collarbones
Boobs
Men dominating women during sex (but in a very specifically sexy way and not a rapey way)
People in authority e.g. teachers
French women
Mens' arms and hands
Womens' stomachs
Leather/motorbikes/tattoos etc.

On YouTube right now there's a 'Draw Your Life' tag which I was really tempted to do except I can't draw, I don't make YouTube videos and I don't have the motivation or patience. BUT it did inspire me to do a 'Write Your Life' thing on here which I'll start soon; I'll probably divide it up into sections to avoid me just rambling in a self-centered fashion for ages, but it will give me something fun and vaguely creative to do so yay.

i love you more than i did when you were mine

  So I'm back; initially created a new blog but then deleted it almost straight away because I realised I'm not quite ready to leave this one yet. I'll probably be more subdued than before, everything is a bit hollow right now. But today is very sunny and bright and I spent some of the weekend with friends and I'm feeling okay, so I thought I'd give this a shot again. I've been getting quite into drawing again; I've been getting a lot of social anxiety which has been making leaving the house and being in public places/ amongst strangers quite difficult, but having a bit of a creative outlet is helping a lot.

de-activating this blog for the time being because I don't have anything to say anymore.

my idea of fun

I've been thinking recently about changing this blog into something more creative; attempting to assemble my simultaneously manic and mundane thoughts into some form of short stories or creative pieces, maybe mixed with stuff I come across in my uni reading that I like - poems and quotes from books and whatnot.

I don't know, I might even start a new blog altogether. I'm feeling pretty directionless on the creativity front, so with 2013 looming I'm trying to give myself a push up the arse.

She partly drew aside the curtain of the long low garret-window, and called our attention to a number of bird-cages hanging there; some, containing several birds. There were larks, linnets and gold-finches- I should think at least twenty.
'I began to keep the little creatures,' she said, 'with an object that the wards will readily comprehend. With the intention of restoring them to liberty. When my judgement should be given. Ye-es! They die in prison, though. Their lives, poor silly things, are so short in comparison with Chancery proceedings, that, one by one, the whole collection has died over and over again. I doubt, do you know, whether one of these, though they are all young, will live to be free! Ve-ry mortifying, is it not?' 

- Bleak House, Chap. XIV.

well all the apostles, they're sitting in swings
saying "i'd sell off my savior for a set of new rings
and some sandles with the style of straps that cling best to the era"
so all of the businessers in their unlimited
hell where they buy and they sell and they sell all their
trash to each other but they're sick of it all
and they're bankrupt on selling
and all of the angels
they'd sell off your soul for a set of new wings and anything gold
they remember
the people they loved their old friends
and i've seen through them all 
seen through them all and seen through most everything
all the people you knew were the actors
all the people you knew were the actors
well, i'll go to college and i'll learn some big words
and i'll talk real loud
goddamn right i'll be heard
you'll remember all the guys that said all those big words he must've
learned in college
and it took a long time
i came clean with myself
i come clean out of love with my lover
i still love her
loved her more when she used to be sober and i was kinder. 

Life is okay; Triston and I have both got this weird stomach bug though so we're not eating very much at all but I guess this can only be a good thing for me. 

tickle me green, i'm too naive

As I stood on the small frosty platform waiting for a train that seemed an eternity away, I looked up at the painfully blue sky. The sharp twangy taste of green olives haunted my mouth and my coarse hair obscured my vision in the biting wind and I placidly contemplated others near me. An impatient, foot tapping, expensive coat wearing doll glared about her, angry at the way things are and where is that god damn train and I wonder if those shoes are still on offer where was that place again and oh my god I can't believe that slut Lorraine last night oh whatever his shoulders weren't broad enough for me anyway and where is that god damn train.

As her thoughts steadily wafted about in a cloud of banality, I buried myself, looking down into the dark, cold, slightly clammy gap between my dress and the inner stitching of my coat, breathing in the odour of my deodorant and a dress that hadn't quite dried properly and Triston's Calvin Klein eau de toilette and that unmistakeable scent of crisp, clean cold. I pulled my upper lip towards my nose to sniff the aloe vera of my cheap lip balm, left a sticky residue on my philtrum and unburied myself from the little haven of familiarity.

A rustling sound caught my hazy attention and I glanced towards a spindly tree to my right, with bleak branches leaning precariously over the platform. Balanced on one of these branches were two young squirrels, entwined in each other, kicking, biting, nuzzling, their bushy tails moving delicately in the early evening rawness. I looked at the man to the right of me; large, red, with glazed eyes and a small attractive mouth, warm dragon's breath smoking from it into the numb air. I thought about my father; how thin and yellow he would appear next to this confident beast. I thought about whether red or yellow was a more attractive pallor. I thought about whether 'beast' was an insult or a heavily-laden compliment. I decided on olive.

(work in progress)

I just want to know something today

Good things in my life

• I'm keeping on top of my university studies and actually enjoying them so far which is generally keeping me very happy; it took me a while to realise that my uni progress and attendance (or lack of it) contributes to my mood and sad phases more than I had ever imagined. 
• Things with Triston are lovely, it's our 2 year anniversary in 6 days. 
• I moved into a new house around 3 weeks ago (which I may or may not have mentioned on this blog), and it's honestly pretty much the only place I've ever truly felt at home. It's just got such a laid back, well humoured atmosphere and everybody is generous and warm and open - we even have big sit down family dinners that everyone contributes to and I'm a bit wine drunk and feel like I'll tear up typing this so I'll stop, but suffice to say I feel so safe and happy in this home.
• I'm pretty happy body conscious wise at the moment - it's a bit of an understatement to say that I have ups and downs regarding my self image and the way I feel about my weight, but right now I'm fairly confident and I've got some new clothes which helps. I don't feel beautiful (honestly I think women very rarely do), but I don't feel vile either. 

Bad things in my life

• I'm really pretty concerned for a very special person in my life and probably my favourite person in the whole world, and I wish them a healthy recovery from the depths of my heart. Baby, I'm here for you whenever you need me and whatever you need me for: just say the word. 
• I went home for my mother's birthday yesterday; the older we both get, the more I realise just how much I really dislike her. I love her and I'll always love her because I don't have much choice, but my god is she one of the most frustrating human beings I've ever known. A particularly delightful quote from the family lunch; "Now Sophie I don't want to sound anti-feminist, but in all honesty you're probably best off just marrying a rich man and spending your life popping out babies for him and spending his money." I'd like to point out here that my mother went to Cambridge university, has always been able to support herself and brings home more money than my dad does. So it's not a "This is my philosophy in life and you should follow it.", it's more a "You're useless at everything anyway, so why bother?" 
• My hair is falling out at an alarming rate. As a 20 year old relatively healthy female, I'm thinking I should probably go and see a doctor about this. My hair is probably about a quarter as thick as it was a few months ago; when it's wet in the shower, simply running my fingers through it causes huge masses to just slide out and I'm not going to lie, it's pretty god-damn terrifying. 
• General money issues, but I'm trying not to get too worked up about it because I don't want to become my mother. I basically can't afford my rent for the whole of this term unless I get a job; I still technically have some form of paid work with UK Transcription - but going by the ridiculous amount of reading I've been given already for uni, I'm not realistically going to be able to both succeed in my studies and have a part time job. It's something I need to think about, but for the moment not a huge concern. 

you are not the sun.

Decided to forsake my limited budget to go on a decadent shopping spree - something I haven't done in a long while, but I was so bored of all my clothes and really needed a little perk :)

New Look, £20, possibly can't make out the pattern but it's got little skulls all over it - looks really nice on, although I need to get a push up bra to wear with it otherwise it makes my chest look a bit frumpy.

 

And Primark's rubbish and hardly has anything on their website, but I also got a plain purple swishy skirt with a little black belt for £6, because the only two skirts I ever wear are flowery so I wanted something plain so I can wear more JAZZY tops and whatnot without looking mental. Then I got a white dress with multi-coloured flowers and butterflies on it; not something that would usually catch my eye but it really suited me on and it was reduced from £15 to a fiver, bargain!

Then I also bought six pairs of black tights because I always need new tights as I can't seem to wear a pair for more than two days without ripping them, and realised that I literally owned no tights that weren't ripped or had holes. Bought some coconut conditioner for £1.99 and dis for 3 squids...

 

 

 

... because my hair is quite literally a) falling out at an alarming rate every time I wash it and b) feels like straw 99% of the time. Ummmm I also bought a Subway for lunch and a peach cooler from Costa (serously, get one, they're incredible). So this amounts to, er, a lot of money, oops.

 

 



 

 



 



nobody likes you, everyone left you, they're all out without you having fun

Oh me, my fickle self and I. I'm house-sitting for my parents this week; been in Ascot since Sunday and Triston was with me until Thursday, when I decided that his presence was far too smothering and constraining for my delicate and introverted nature to handle so I sent him packing in a fit of selfish self-absorped fury.

Okay, bit of an exaggeration - in reality I just wanted to be on my own for a few days to see if the last two independent maturing years at university made me any less horrendously bad at being self-sufficient and coping at being alone for longer than an afternoon.

They didn't.

On the plus side I have two very affectionate cats, full reign over a Sky + telly and a fully equipped swishy kitchen to cook up some crazy treats in. On the down side... well, everything else.

i've come a long way since the essence up on east slope hill

Acts seen at Shambala (did the very sensible thing of jotting them down as I saw them in my phone this time, as I can hardly remember anything I saw last year due to my insatiable thirst for alcohol/narcotics):

Only Joe
The Resonators
Bison
The Boxettes
Beleruche
Billy Bragg
The Destroyers
Kakatsitsi
The Apples
Coda
Dizraeli and the Small Gods
Molotov Jukebox
Joe Driscoll
Shambala Beatbox Orchestra
The Twinkle Brothers
Vieux Farka Toure

I knew one song of Dizraeli's and had heard of Billy Bragg and Joe Driscoll but that's about it, but they were all amazing - this is what I love about Shambala, discovering new wonderful things :)

Today 21st

Flying from Toulouse to Gatwick, landing 5:45pm. My sister's picking me up and we're driving back to Brighton together, and I'll probably take her out for drinks or dinner or something. Triston's working until 10pm anyway so I'll have no real need or want to hang around Coldean.

Tomorrow 22nd

Go to the bank and cash cheque
Take out money for Shambala
Go to Aldi to buy cheap spirits
Go to Sainsbury's/ Asda for food, beer/ cider and mixers
Possible trip to Big House
Possible shopping for outfits for the 'Boogie Knights' costume theme
Pack for Shambala 

Thursday 23rd

Driving to Shambala with Alice, Triston and Charlie; pick David up on the way in Milton Keynes.

Friday -Sunday 24th-26th

Shambala!

Monday 27th

Drive back from Shambala; drop David back off in Milton Keynes, drop Alice off in Ascot and possibly pick up some stuff.

Tuesday 28th - Friday 31st

Pack up all my shit, email Rodger about getting deposit back, clear out stuff. Invite Cat round to assist with said clearing and packing up of stuff.

Saturday 1st

Move out of Coldean, move into Edburton Avenue!

Sunday 2nd

Settle in, sort out hob and dishwasher. Probably around this time I should also look into starting up work again at UK Transcription.

Monday 3rd -Sunday 9th

House sitting and looking after the cats in Ascot with Triston. Try and get more reading for next term done, but more likely (if the last time Triston and I were alone in Ascot is anything to go by) take advantage of the clean modern fancy kitchen to make lots of delicious food, watch huge amounts of crap telly and have a lot of sex.

Monday 10th - Thursday 20th

Get the rest of holiday reading done, start work again with UK Transcription, order the rest of the books I need for next term, buy/prepare all my stuff for uni, sort out mum's birthday.

Thursday 20th

Term starts


I like plans, plans are nice. Having had a week in the French countryside with little to do and few people to see, the next few weeks are very exciting.

And I'm clearing all the crap out of my room
Trying desperately to figure out what it is that makes me blue
And I wrote an epic letter to you, and it's 22 pages front and back but it's too good to be used
And I tried to be a girl who likes to be used
But I'm too good for that, there's a mind under this hat
And I called them all and told them I've got to move
Feel like running.

I'm in France and the weather has fluctuated between 30 and 40 degrees celsius since I've been here; it's muggy and clammy and full of mosquitoes but the heat is soothing and the mountains are beautiful, and I'm largely at peace.

we're all just waiting to die.

So the last couple of weeks have been interesting; my anxiety has blown through the roof and my general sadness is probably at its most dangerous. I got scarily sad a few days ago, as in vaguely contemplating finding the bridge near Coldean that runs over the A27... not jumping, but sitting on the railings and contemplating life until Triston came and found me. Instead I walked to campus in the hope of either finding this patch of bluebells in the woods that Triston and I visit every year and make me so ruddy happy, or at least finding the bench at the top of the hill behind campus and sitting there to contemplate. 

Anyway, I found neither of these things but got scared and panicky as it was dark and cold and raining but luckily Tristy phoned me because he had just got home and was panicking because I wasn't there. He came and found me and we swung on the swings on campus and then walked me home in the pouring rain, which despite my internal emotional trauma was really, really romantic. 

I don't know, it comes and goes in waves. Today I'm happy, and I guess that's all that matters for now. 

out come the gaunt ghosts of your thoughts

I was supposed to finish work today, but my boss asked me to stay for longer... to preserve my sanity I bullied him down to me coming in 2/3 days a week so yay, cash moneys but also sort of freedom! Friday night, cooking home-made Indian with the man (beef dansak, onion bhajis, chapattis and bombay potatoes) and watching horror films in honour of Friday 13th. Is it lame that I'm ridiclously excited that I actually get to stay up late tonight and drink cider and watch shit and play on the Sims 3 because I don't have to get up for work tomorrow? FUCK YOU CLUBBING AND DRUGS AND FRIENDS, I'M A HOME BODY NOW.

Except not really, but these kind of things are just bloody beautiful after a long day's work.

there's no one I can talk to like I talk to myself

Apologies for not having posted in an age, my laptop's done yet another wondrous thing and decided not to let me post on my blog - I'm on my desktop now but I'm very rarely on here so yay.

Life is a weird one right now; I'm still undecided as to whether having a full time job over summer is a) a marvellous idea which is cultivating me into a responsible, independent, dollar flashing woman or b) making me feel like a distinctly lost, depressed and still semi-broke student. Either way, I'm exhausted 90% of the time and I feel like I hardly get to see anyone or really do anything.

Saying that, I did go to London for my sister's graduation on Thursday which was bladdy lovely - followed by seeing Die Antwoord which was absolutely insane. I also went to see Kimya Dawson last night which I was a huge messy wreck for, but in a good way. I'm in a bit of a dilemma because I'm supposed to be finishing at this transcription company on Friday which I'm super excited about because I'll actually have my summer back, but at the same time I think my boss might ask me to stay for longer because things seem so hectic at the moment and he keeps complaining about not having enough typists. I can't really turn down the money, but at the same I feel too young and careless for this shit.

I get this horrible sinking feeling sometimes that I'm incredibly irritating to everybody around me, particularly to those who I love the most.

no amount of coffee, no amount of crying.

I've spent today largely feeling very alone. This is disconcerting;  today I went into town and had a chat with Nigel who is the head of Personnel Selection, a recruitment agency I went through to get my waitressing job last week. He was really kind and sweet to me and concerned that I didn't get enough breaks and said that he'd write to the catering company to complain, and assured me he'd phone as soon as any more work came up. While I was there I also saw two of the guys I worked with, who were equally kind and sweet and chatty to me. Then I went to Big House where I spent the afternoon with Holly, Alia and Charlie - who were all (as usual) friendly and good humoured and enquired about how I was and what I'd been up to and we chatted for hours and I played them some music I've gotten into recently which they really liked. Then I got the bus home and Butch, James and Becky all asked where I'd been all day and if I'd had a nice time and again, they were all interested and nice and gave me hugs. And Doig's been texting me today and I've spoken to Cat on facebook, and even though Triston's revising he's been coming in my room occasionally to kiss me and squeeze me and tell me he loves me and make some inside joke or another.

I really don't understand why this isn't enough.

So my hair is purple and even though I've finished for summer I really don't feel like I have yet; I think it's partially because nobody else has finished and partially because I always get into these habits of holing myself up with music and computer games and cigarettes and my diaries - and it's nice up to a point, but then I forget how much being on my own for too long makes me anxious and blue. I mean Triston's about but he's mainly been in his room revising like a mad man for the past few days, and although I know I can always go to him if I'm feeling down I don't like to because he's easily swayed by distractions and he's been doing so well of late.

I want to be this cat.

ummmmm it's late and I should probably sleep but Triston hasn't come in yet so I'll probably just have another cigarette and watch My Strange Addiction because it makes me feel more normal.

start wearing purple

Went on a shopping spree today, which was probably a bad idea seeing as I have hardly any money and no job prospects - but it was really fun and therapeutic so I don't care so much.

(this is Maybelline's 'popsicle' range in Cherry Pop, it smells like cherry sweets and is more like a tinted balm)

And I can't find an image for the ear hanger I got at urban outfitters anywhere, but it's one of these, except the ear pendant is a dangly silver feather with a teal stone above it:

CITING TEALEAF

will you remember to take another breath when your heart's beating like a drum in your chest?

MY SIMS 3 HAS STOPPED WORKING MY SUMMER IS OFFICIALLY OVER... except not really because I was going to buy an expansion pack anyway and I found one on play.com where you can buy the original sims plus an expansion pack for only like 4 quid more than the expansion pack on it's own so YAYYYYYY, except it's going to be here in 3-5 days so what the fuck do I do until then?

I'm not a real person and I don't feel comfortable doing real things yet.

I just need to keep you in mind as something larger than life.

Oh how I love holidays.

Today I went into town and met Hooshmand and we went to this huge posh weird housing complex behind Brighton station where he lives so he and a witness could sign his tenancy agreement; then I left and actually got lost for about 5 minutes which was really disconcerting because I generally feel like I know Brighton like the back of my hand now, but then I inexplicably ended up by Aldi and it was okay. Went to Rob's and luckily he was in to sign his tenancy agreement, then walked to Doig's to get his signed and I was going to head straight to the post office to send them all off but then you know, Doig happened.

So instead I stayed and we watched about seven episodes of the Vampire Diaries and ordered indian take-away and talked about life and it was really nice - haven't had quality Doig time in a while. Ummm now I'm home and super chilled out despite the fact I haven't heard back from that fish and chip place yet and my room's a fucking tip. But it's okay because I have three whole months to serve fish and chips and clean my room and do a whole host of other things. Tomorrow I plan on sending off the tenancy agreements and cleaning my room and dying my hair and playing the Sims 3... it's a hard life :)

Also today I listened to this song like 1029048234 times because a) I FUCKING LOVE EMO MUSIC AND I DON'T EVEN CARE and b) I was wearing my new Taking Back Sunday hoodie for the first time so every time I look down at my left sleeve and see the name printed there I'm like I KNOW LET'S LISTEN TO TAKING BACK SUNDAY... marketing, eesh. (Also I forget that this video has all the Fight Club montages in it and it makes me even more happy).

i don't think about you all the time, but when i do i wonder why

I really like that my housemate James has lots of things that I can play with like a big glow in the dark stick and a dj set and circus things, and I like that today we had a bbq and it was really sunny and I spent hours drinking cider and smoking cigarettes and learning circus tricks with sticks and tassles and things and running around and listening to Fatboy Slim and I didn't feel fat or ugly or inadequate I just felt nice.

Tomorrow Triston and I are going to my parent's house for dinner and to help my dad cut the garden hedge, and we're staying over and then on Sunday we're going to Slamdunk festival at Hertfordshire Uni which I'm really looking forward to because it will be all emo and nostalgic, and then Monday will probably be pretty shitty cos I'll be knackered but I'll have to cram revise, and then Tuesday morning it's my 3 hour exam and then I'll be free as a bird with a french fry :)

Don't you love it when you realise the house is empty so instead of doing revision you watch re-runs of Supersize vs. Superskinny and then cry because one of the supersize girls is only a few stone heavier than you so you eat a whole tub of chicken tikka sandwich filler and a big bag of crisps and then throw up and then eat two more big bags of crisps and then throw up and because you're upset you do it really violently and manage to get it all over your hair and face and clothes and bathroom floor

I know I do

Four kicks who's strutting now?

So despite the fact that I still have one more deadline and an exam to go, I've decided to give myself some time off (from time off) and make a SUMMER list of all the exciting things I want to do in my glorious 3 months of vague freedom - getting a full time job aside.

BOOKS TO READ


Hamlet - Shakespeare (I feel like such a failure of an English student when I realise I've never read this)
ALL THE DICKENS
Beloved - Toni Morrison
By Way of Swann's - Marcel Proust
The Aeneid - Virgil
ALL THE CHUCK PALAHNIUK
Filth - Irvine Welsh
The Rainbow - D.H. Lawrence
The Fall of the House of Usher and other stories - Edgar Allen Poe
The Bonfire of the Vanities - Tom Wolfe
Vanity Fair - William Thackeray

THINGS TO WATCH 


Game of Thrones
Vampire Diaries
re-watch Pushing Daisies
Dark Shadows
General trash - 90210, the OC, Gossip Girl... ALL THESE THINGS I'VE NEVER WATCHED BUT SHOULD BECAUSE THEY WILL ENRICH MY MIND

THINGS TO DO


19th June - picking dad up from Gatwick airport
21st June - Cat's burfday shindig
23rd June - Emily Harris' shindig
1st July - Kimya Dawson
5th July - Die Antwoord

General other times - DO FUN THINGS but also get a job. Really Sophie, get a job.

I wanna be a hero when I grow up

Acts I've seen live (this is most definitely a partial list, as there are two festivals where I was so twatted that I can't really remember any bands I saw, oops):

1. Adam Green
2. Admiral Fallow
3. Airborne Toxic Event
4. The Anomalies
5. Anti Flag
6. Arcade Fire
7. Astronautalis
8. Badly Drawn Boy
9. Beggarz Fixx
10. Ben Caplan & the Casual Smokers
11. Benjamin Francis Leftwich
12. Ben Tatham
13. Bernhoft
14. Biffy Clyro
15. BIGkids
16. Bitches
17. Blink 182
18. Bloc Party
19. Born Gold
20. BOYCOM
21. Brand New
22. Cajun Dance Party
23. Carly Bryant
24. Carnival Collective
25. Cats and Cats and Cats
26. Chet Faker.
27. Cocknbull Kid
28. Congo Natty
29. The Correspondents
30. Cypress Hill
31. Dan le Sac vs Scroobius Pip
32. Danananakroyd
33. Darwin Deez
34. Daughter
35. Deaf Club
36. Dirty Pretty Things
37. Dizzee Rascal
38. Doorly.
39. Editors
40. Ellen and the Escapades
41. Emma Louise
42. The Enemy
43. Fall Out Boy
44. Fatboy Slim
45. Feeder
46. Films of Colour
47. Florence and the Machine
48. The Fratellis
49. Frightened Rabbit
50. Get Cape. Wear Cape. Fly.
51. Gogol Bordello
52. Gross Magic
53. Guns n Roses
54. Heathers
55. I Am the Avalanche
56. Ida Maria
57. Imperial Leisure
58. Islet
59. Jack's Mannequin
60. The Jezabels
61. Jim Lockey and the Solemn Sun
62. Joe Corbin
63. Jordan Cook aka Reignwolf
64. Joe Driscoll
65. Jumping Ships
66. Kaiser Chiefs
67. Kalakuta Millionaires
68. Karima Francis
69. Kimya Dawson
70. Kings of Leon
71. The Killers
72. The Libertines
73. Los Campesinos!
74. The Maccabees
75. Mallory Knox
76. Manchester Orchestra
77. Martin Creed
78. Master Shortie
79. Metric
80. The Midnight Beast
81. Mindless Self Indulgence
82. Modest Mouse
83. Momerath
84. Mr B the Gentleman Rhymer
85. Mystery Jets
86. New Groove Formation
87. Paramore
88. Patrick Wolf
89. Pendulum
90. Plain White T's
91.. Professor Elemental
92. Quantic
93. Queens of the Stone Age
94. The Raconteurs
95. Shy FX
96. The Skints
97. Slow Club
98. The Special Ks
99. The Subways
100. Submotion Orchestra
101. Swanton Bombs
102. Taking Back Sunday
103. Tegan and Sara
104. Tenacious D
105. Theme Park
106. Tin Roots
107. The Town Heroes
108. Trippple Nippples
109. Two Door Cinema Club
110. Two Jackals
111. Vampire Weekend
112. Weezer
113. We are Scientists
114. The Xcerts
115. Yeah Yeah Yeahs
116. Yukon Blonde
117. Zebrahead
118. Lower Than Atlantis
119. Say Anything
120. Motion City Soundtrack
121. Funeral for a Friend
122. The Audition
123. MC Lars


So yeah this isn't everything because I didn't keep a band list for Reading 2010, Playgroup or Shambala and also 5 bands inexplicably disappeared while I was alphabetising them and PLEASE DON'T MAKE ME DO THIS EVER AGAIN MY BRAIN IS SO DEAD okay bye

so hi my mother and my best friend are the same person

Now is probably a good a time as any to admit to myself/ the internet/ the world the problems I have with food.  I've only recently realised how obsessed I've always been with it in one way or another; in bed the other night I was contemplating some childhood memories and it dawned on me how many of the most vivid ones involve food - not necessarily the happiest or most important memories - but nevertheless I've retained them. Probably the most interesting of these are:

1. We never kept crisps in the house, until when I was probably about 7 or 8 and the football world cup was on and my dad bought a huge box of Walkers cheese and onion crisps. I was allowed one packet every day when the match was on, but I remember sneaking some away afterwards and eating up to four packets a day.
2. When I was very young, as soon as my plate was set down in front of me, I had an obsessive habit with immediately separating out what I was and wasn't going to eat. My mum always recollects how it was surprisingly hard to get me to eat a whole meal for a long time, and then suddenly it was impossible to get me to stop.
3. Similar to the last one but much more amusing, is another obsessive habit I had of re-enacting the scene in the Lion King where Timone and Pumba introduce Simba to eating insects - so I'd say all the lines and only eat a mouthful when Timone or Pumba or Simba eat an insect in the film, and then start the scene all over again.
4. (God these are all coming back to me now) I used to love drawing people, particularly my friends and family, and every time I'd draw someone I'd write their name and age above their picture, and whether they were skinny, normal or fat.

I honestly don't know when I started to put on weight; I guess it was about 7 or 8, but I was always tall for my age and I don't ever remember wearing clothes designed for my age even when I was tiny. I think my issues have possibly got worse recently; when I was in France over Easter my parents and sister were cooing over a photo of me they found when I was about two or three - but all I could really think was how fat I looked in it.

So there were periods when I was a teenager when I actively tried to eat less, and I was probably my skinniest right after I broke up with Sophia the first time. Then in year 12 when I was getting the shit bullied out of me for coming out, I started making myself throw up. The first time it happened was when I got home from a house party really, really drunk - I needed to be sick but it wasn't coming so I just helped it along a bit. I don't know, the incident doesn't really stick out in my mind as the start of anything. I've never, ever thought of myself as bulimic even when I was doing it 2-3 times a week during sixth form - partly because I reckoned I never did enough for it to count, and partly because I didn't think I was losing weight (which I wasn't, but I get a horrible suspicion sometimes that the reason I've put on so much weight at university is because I've mostly stopped). I couldn't even admit to myself properly in my diary, just drawing a little square by the date so I'd know I'd thrown up that day.

Things were (and still are) especially bad when I'm left on my own - I almost always order a shit ton of food, eat it really quickly and then throw up. This happened a lot more during sixth form because my parents went to France a lot, but much less since I've been at university because I'm almost always around Triston. But when I'm not, the binging and purging has been worse - before I tended to only do it alone at home, but since it's also been the toilets of fast food restaurants and in my car at service stations.

Anyway, I've vaguely been on a diet for the past few months, and probably the most unintentional good that I've done is start a blog (http://thingswhichieat.blogspot.co.uk/ if you're super bored) where I solely record what I eat and drink every day. When I started it I was scared I'd become more obsessed, but I actually feel really proud when I can write a post where everything is reasonably healthy and I haven't over-eaten. The (vx) symbols are when I've voluntarily thrown up, (ivx) is where I've involuntarily thrown up.

It's a long haul, and nobody knows any of this apart from Cat, but it's been a relief to get it all down. I could go on forever about everything else to do with food that's happened in my life; like how there was a huge book this girl had written of everything she ate in a year at an art exhibition in Hungary and my sister had to tear me away from it because I just stood there and read it the whole time we were there, or how (I don't know if this is really related or not) I'm incredibly terrified of cooking for other people and I still get super paranoid even making food for Triston and I'm always convinced everything's burnt or tastes horrible. Anyway, I'll stop now.

Turn me back into the pet I was when we met.

Bah, last night wasn't very fun in the end. Got nice and drunky and druggy at big house for pike's birthday, then went to Volks but the queue was ridiculous so ended up at Concorde (completely forgetting it was a star wars themed night, which if everything had turned out okay probably would have been hilarious). Triston couldn't get in cause the bouncer said he was too fucked, which I hadn't really noticed up until then but then realised that he could barely string a sentence together and had the scariest fucked eyes I've ever seen on him.


The girls insisted I went in without him and he'd be fine, so I paid a fiver to get in but even within the first 10 minutes I wasn't enjoying myself at all cause all I could do was worry about him and what he was doing. Went and had a cigarette and a weep on Lizzy, who said that if I really thought he couldn't get home on his own and I wasn't going to have a good time anyway, I should take him home. So Tess came with me to find him, agreed that he needed someone with him, so I left.

Getting him home was okay, probably because I didn't want to have to deal with him on a bus and so paid 12 quid for a taxi, but it got us home super quickly. Got the majority of his clothes off and put him to bed (his bed), and thought everything would be fine, but at some point he woke up and came into my room and really pissed me off/ kinda freaked me out because he just wouldn't leave. I tried to explain multiple times that I loved him but I didn't want to have to look after him any more tonight, and if he loved and respected me he'd go back to his room and go to bed and I'd talk to him in the morning cause I just needed some peace and quiet. After each explanation he'd say 'yes okay okay, I will' to which I'd say '.. now, Triston, I want you to go now', to which he'd reply with something completely incomprehensible, or half started sentences like 'you seem to think that..' or 'because I...' and then look at me for an answer as if he'd said the whole thing, or (most frustratingly at all) 'just chill out, sophie, sophie, just calm down, don't worry', but then he still wouldn't fucking leave.

In the end I threatened to go downstairs and get Butch to come up and make him leave me alone, and only when I was halfway down the stairs I heard him say 'fuck this' and go back into his room.

I watched glee for a few hours, slept from 6am to around 8:30am, then went to the post office to post the paperwork for the house next year (finally) and now I don't know. I just swear to god he'd better treat me like royalty today, but I know he won't and I know he'll try to deny being that fucked/ being incomprehensible/ upsetting and scaring me because he's too fucking proud for his own good.
I wasted 18 quid on that boy last night, plus the mandy we'd been saving for ages for a big night, plus an awesome night out with pretty much all our close friends. I know deep down that it was the right thing to do because there's no way he would have gotten home by himself, and he would have got bored waiting outside Concorde eventually and wandered off, but right now I really wish I had just left him there.

Went home for the afternoon and was welcomed by the lovely surprise of NEW CLOTHES from my pappa, probably because every time I go home I look like a smelly threadbare but highly loveable tramp.

(this dress is a lot greener in real life, like mint green)

I'M GOING TO BE A FLORAL VISION THIS SUMMER probably, but also clearly my dad also thinks i'm not hippie enough for Brighton cause he also got me THESE:

Also my mum's contribution to my general welfare was twenty quid and two bottles of wine, I really love my parents sometimes/ all the times when they give me things.