Sunday, 30 May 2010

The times they are a changing

I am sitting in a very bare bedroom right now. But as bare and as plain as it is, it is still so messy and cluttered!! Pretty much everything is in boxes now, although carrier bags have started to take role of storage now as I have run out of boxes, and it just feels so weird to be able to literally pack up my life of the last year.

I have lived on and off in The Bungabow since June 2009. Our lovely landlord Pete let us live here rent free until September and my gosh did we make the most of it! My first night here I watched Meet Joe Black with Apples and Nick, and of course Apples talked all the way through it, my second night here AJ and Holly came over and we got very very drunk which resulted in me throwing up in the toilet and then passing out in the hallway, leaving AJ to carry me to my bed. Since then there has been some truly amazing moments here, hiding all of Kate's food in the oven and filling her cupboard with teddies, taking everything from her wardrobe and stealing her duvet and cushions and forcing her massive spiny chair into the tiny tiny bathroom. The BBQs in the garden and people sitting on the garage roof, the little notes we left around the house, one of which I don't think Apples ever found, moving my bedroom round because I got damp down the back of my bed, Kate's room flooding and having everything in the hallway, Shack Attack 2, which didn't even involve Shack, just the four of us dressed in hoddies with war paint on our cheeks. The millions of times Jake and Maria have slept over, writing essays in the living room with Boodge, Maria and Blow, "The one where the Blows were up all night", my twenty first and a half where we tried to fit a million things beginning with the letter A in our tiny bungalow, pre-drinks for the Summer Ball and the photo of all the girls in the kitchen "Where they belong" and so many more...

Fair to say there are a lot of memories to pack up and take with me.

Of course amongst all of these happy times there are some truly awful times I will always remember taking place in this empty room I am sitting in now, but for this post they are things I will not list.

I am still getting over the shock at realising how much I am going to miss the third years I said goodbye to last night, at the moment I discovered I was always one of the family, even if it is weird uncle Al, and still recovering a little from getting in at about 5am after watching the sun rise and chasing my 'magnet' across the field.

Saying goodbye this year has been so different to last year. I remember sitting in Becca's room a year ago writing my first ever blog and crying while she packed up the room which had been my home for the last five months, I remember the BBQ outside the back of halls like it was yesterday and how I literally cried the entire drive home, and I remember realising that the majority of people I was crying over not seeing for three months actually ended up visiting over the summer anyway.

This end of year is a completely different experience, and while I will miss my friends over the next three months I also know that the time will pass quickly and to be honest, I'll probably end up seeing half of them before September anyway!

I'm still not ready to be a third year, and part of me is not ready to move out of The Bungabow. I feel quite lost knowing that this year is finally over, the last few months have gone so fast, and it is times like these that make me realise how short lived life really is.

A year ago I was crying that my first year was over, and that does in no way, shape or form feel like a year ago. Eight months ago I was cast as the lead in the Christmas panto, seven months ago I started dating the lead male, six months ago I found out I had been cheated on, five months ago I had exams postponed because of the amount of snow we had, four months ago I was starting the second semester of my second year, three months ago I was getting gossiped about in the library by people I thought were friends, two months ago I was looking forward to living in a house with my best friends and my boyfriend, a month ago I was petrified to live with my ex, and now I am scared to move out of my tiny little girls bungalow in a massive ten bedroom house full of messy smelly boys. So much has happened, so much has changed, so much I had already forgotten about until I thought about it, and I realise now that I waste too much of my life on things which in a years time I will not even remember.

I am going to make this summer as amazing as last years was. I am going to London again to perform with National Youth Theatre and to get trained by Complicity for three weeks, I am going to work my ass off in the pub and save money, I am going to visit my best friend at uni before she comes home for the summer, I am going to invade my friends house in Brighton and explore the gay capital of the UK, I am going to continue to learn the guitar and I am got to not regret a single thing!

Thank you to EVERYONE who has made this year it was. The ups and the downs, the tears and the frowns, the smiles and the laughter. Thank you to those who have bitched about me and thank you to those who have stuck up for me. Thank you to those who have lied to me and thank you to those who told me. Thank you to those who have made me feel as small as humanly possible and thank you to those who helped me grow back up to my true size and worth. Thank you for everything that has helped build me as a person and has helped make me who I am. If it wasn't for all the people who shit on you, you wouldn't appreciate the ones who don't. So thank you everyone :)

BTW, this has gone on for far longer than I expected it to when I started typing and I think I strayed off my original point, so sorry for the random flow of it all!!

Here's to you. Here's to me. Here's to all we have in store...

Sometimes, the last person you ever expected to, is the one person who makes you cry more than anyone else. Sometimes, when you least expect it, you find out you had a secret friend you never knew you had. Sometimes, when the time is finally right, you let go of the past and make peace with it and the people involved.

Tonight had a lot of that.

To find out someone who you have admired for a long time has secretly been following you, that that person knew all along that you are "fragile", and that they were wishing you well the whole time but only just found the moment to tell you that, is such an overwhelming feeling, I can't even begin to put it in to words. All I can say, from the bottom of my heart is
Thank You
I think I spoke enough when I said how much people have noticed everything you do, and I think my tears said it all when I honestly, truthfully told you how much I'd miss you, and I will honestly never forget the advice you gave me, even if right now, as true and as perfect it may be, it still isn't time.

But please know, that because of you I managed to make peace.

To finally find the words and the courage to say "I forgive you" is a strong moment. When you finally, eventually, feel that weight lift off your shoulders when you tell that person that you are finally ready to live and let live everything that they ever did and said that was wrong to you and so many other people, is such a relief. I am just so glad it was now.

Where other things are concerned I am not ready to let go. I am not ready to stop believing, to stop fighting. I hurt, everyday, but as you said, I am 'fragile' and you will honestly never know how much it meant to hear someone who I never thought would ever even know, say those words.

Tonight you have given me so much more than you will ever know. You have given me a friendship I never knew existed in such depth, the courage to forget, and the strength, drive and belief to carry on in a society I have never until tonight felt a part of.

It wasn't until the tears fell that I realised that I was part of the family I have been striving to be a part of for so long. It wasn't until the tears were shed that I realised I had been home all along. It wasn't until the goodbyes were said that I realised just how much I'd miss you all.

Thank you xxxx

Saturday, 29 May 2010

Give a stranger an unexpected smile

Once I met a stranger,
I didn't know his name
He asked me for my number,
So we played the guessing game
I gave him a few to start with,
But made him guess the rest
The stranger, he now texts me
Morning, noon and night

I've started talking to strangers, it seems to be my new thing. Last week I had a Chinese delivered to University while I was at rehearsals for Zombie Prom. I sent someone to collect it for me as I was busy. Afterwards the delivery guy text my phone, confused as to why he had my number and who I was. I decided to keep texting him as I thought it would be funny. Five days on and we are still texting. I still have no idea what this person looks like.

Thursday night I went to Velvet with some customers from the pub. I serve them every week and only learnt their names this week, which I instantly forgot. There were about ten of them, and the furthest any of our relationships had gone was me topping up their alcohol levels every week before going to Velvet. I had a really good night with them and from speaking to them ended up talking to even more strangers when we got to Velvet. I still can't remember most of their names!

Last night I went to the last karaoke at the SU. I ended up sitting on a strangers lap while giving him verbal and (tame) physical abuse. He bought me and my friends a drink each and kept us all amused with his drunk attempts at getting my number. I stole his phone for a while and drank most of his pint. I gave him ten digits of my number and made him guess the last one. We have been texting this morning.

I quite enjoy talking to strangers, and I know my mother always told me not to when I was younger but I feel maybe it's time to start ignoring her now and seeing what happens when you say hello to a randomer!

Tuesday, 25 May 2010

I miss so much when I'm sleeping so I think I'll stay awake

I seem to find my life a lot more interesting when I don't sleep. These last few weeks have been most bizarre, especially from a textual point of view.

I think I may stay awake more often :)

Monday, 24 May 2010

The Fear

I have an assignment in in two and a half hours and I have written the tittle. Worse still, it is a title I will probably end up changing. It is my last assignment of the year and it is the one that plans out the big old dissertation for next year, and still the fear has not hit.

Instead I sit in my house mates bed, because there is a big spider in my room, listening to music, looking at drama related jobs on the internet and Facebooking people about the essays they too are yet to finish.

I really wish the fear would set in and make me finish this essay, but instead I'd rather have a little nap..

Sunday, 23 May 2010

This keeps me strong when I feel weak

Fearless is not the absence of fear. Fearless is having fears, fearless is having doubts. Lots of them. Fearless is living in spite of those things that scare you to death. Fearless is falling madly in love, even though you've been hurt before. Fearless is getting back up and fighting for what you want over and over again...even though every time you've tried before, you've lost. Its fearless to have faith that someday things will change. Fearless is having the courage to say goodbye to someone who only hurts you, even when you can't breathe without them. It's fearless to fall for your best friend, even though he's in love with someone else. And when someone apologises to you enough times for things they'll never stop doing, its fearless to stop believing them. It's fearless to say "you're NOT sorry", and walk away. Loving someone despite what people think is fearless. Allowing yourself to cry on the bathroom floor is fearless. Letting go is fearless. Then, moving on and being alright... That's fearless too. But no matter what love throws at you, you have to believe in it. You have to believe in love stories and Prince Charming's and happily ever afters.
I think love is fearless.

Friday, 21 May 2010

I don't know if I'm ready for this

Reality. It's a scary old thing. Realising that something you've known has been coming for a long time, but never really acknowledged just how short a time you have until that moment, is finally here. It's a scary, emotional, lonely roller coaster to be riding. And part of me wonders if I'm ready.

I have ten days. Ten days until my room will be represented by a pile of boxes and an empty bed. Ten days until I move my belongings to a different room, waiting to be hauled across the road to my new home, ten days until my house mates become friends, ten days until I look around searching for the photos of my friends plastered across my walls, ten days until I can stare at blank walls, remembering the comforting faces that used to live there.

I don't think I'm ready for this.

I don't think I'm ready to move out of my first home away from home. I don't think I'm ready to pack up my room, my belongings, my life of the last year. I don't think I'm ready to say goodbye to my house mates. I don't think I am ready to be done in my second year of uni.

I don't think I am ready to be a third year. I don't think I am ready to begin my journey to the end of my educational life. I don't think I am ready to live with "the boy" when I still have so far to go until I am over him. I don't think I am ready, even though I have to be.

I have known this moment was coming, I have been waiting for it, wishing it here for months, and it is only now that I realise that while I have been wishing for this moment to arrive, I have been wishing all the moments of the past few months away.

I have been living for a future I am now petrified to welcome.

Part of me knows moving out will be a good thing. I will finally be able to let go of a lot of my past that haunts me. All of the memories that my room tell me each night will be gone and packed away. I will not have to live in the room where so many hearts have fallen in and out of love. I will not have to be reminded day after day of the people who used to fill this room with me, who made it feel whole and complete and who then left and never returned.

But while I will finally be able to walk away from those memories, I will also be leaving behind the good ones. I will never again get to look at the "We know what you look like... NAKED" sign on the shower room door, or hear the feet of people on the gravel as they make their way to or from the front door. I will never get to just walk into Kate's room when she isn't here and steal her things, or hide 'the sock' in her room and await the glorious scream when she finds it. I will never get to sit in the kitchen talking for hours when there is a perfectly good sofa in the next room, or sit on the sofa all night writing essays and getting high off tea and coffee. I will never be able to write on the board about the latest thought to enter my head when I walk past it, or help Blow with her make up when she puts way too much on the one eye.

I will never experience the power of the Bungalow Ghost again or get to sing "Come knock on our door, we've been waiting for you."

I cannot wait to live in 61, to spend my final year of uni living with eight boys and one girl. I cannot wait to slide down the stairs on mattresses and have huge house parties in a house where there is actually room for everyone to fit. I cannot wait for space to not be an issue. But I will miss the bungalow and all the memories it has bought me, no matter how good or bad they may have been.

I will miss The Bungabow.

Liberation Radio

Listening to Mumford & Sons I decide to write bout my day busking in Worcester Town Centre. I met Boodge Lane at about 11am to walk down to town together, we had a bit of a practice sitting at the side of the river before we carried on into town. It really gave us a bit of confidence as a few people passed us and smiled, no one ever made any negative comments and it really got me ready for the town centre.

We had already decided on a few places to go, with the idea of circling them a few times throughout the day. First we went just outside of the market as we figured it would be quite a busy place. We set up in the doorway of a closed down shop and began to sing. At first I was a little nervous, but as soon as I realised that people did not stare and judge I felt it all fade away and I allowed myself to completely get lost in the moment and enjoy it fully. Even when one of us messed up it didn't seem like a big deal, we were just there having fun and any money we made from it was an added bonus.

After finishing up our set there we moved to the other end of town, in all honesty this was probably the quietest part of town, but it was where we had the most fun. We sat down on a step at the back of a Church, facing the shops and began to play again. A few people stopped and threw us bits of change and we got a lot of smiles off people as they passed. A couple of boys passed and waved and a slightly trampy man stood and watched us for about two songs.

At the end of the second song he started talking to us, asking if they were own lyrics and how long Tom had been playing. He was impressed when Tom said that he had only been playing since Christmas and asked if he could have a little go on the guitar. To be completely honest, i did not expect much from this man as the way he was dressed suggested that he did not have much of a life, but he picked up the guitar and bought it to life. He was incredible! He sang a folk song and told us how he was impressed with our songs before wishing us luck and leaving.

We never asked this man his name so on our walk back home we decided to call him Smithy.

After this we moved once again to the centre bit of town where all the buskers go. We had been unable to go there before as there was already someone busking but by this time they had moved on. We played again and had a little girl, stood staring at us for minutes, completely mesmerised by our playing. To be acknowledged like that was a beautiful feeling. Kids especially seemed to be attracted to what we were doing and it reminded me of when I was younger and used to see buskers in Dudley - I had never imagined then that one day that could be me!

After sitting in the sun for hours playing music and singing and Tom losing his plectrum inside his guitar about three times we decided it was time for some food. After this we really felt the full effect of how tiring the day had been and decided that we just wanted to sit by the river playing to ourselves, relaxing.

We found a nice spot facing the river, just by the water fountain where children were running round in the warm sun and we played. A huge group of school children passed us, I think they might have been on a trip there were that many of them, and they all watched and listened as they passed.

I don't know about anyone else, but to me, it doesn't seem like summer until you can hear the soundtrack of peoples lives. Whether that be from a passing car or an open house window, someone listening to their i-Pod or a busker in the street.

Yesterday for me, really felt like the first day of summer. And I gave it my own soundtrack.

Meeting people like Smithy made me realise just how much I want to be a part of this world, just how much I want people to hear my life's soundtrack on their warm summers day and just how much I really do enjoy performing, even if it only be to the birds swimming downstream.

Yesterday marked the ticking off of another thing on my list of 100 things to do before I die list. Number 95 - Go busking. I cannot wait to do it again.

Wednesday, 19 May 2010

So say they all

Tomorrow marks the day of a very exciting, important and long awaited event for myself. I am going to go busking. I have wanted to do this for years and what is even more exciting is that one of the songs is purely my own creation.

I have never had anyone listen to my own work before, apart from of course my friends when they hear me singing in the shower every morning, so this really is a big thing for me.

I shall be with my very good friend Boodge Lane as he is the musical genius and the all important guitarist. The majority of the songs are all his own work, but some I have been able to add the occasional input to.

I could listen to that boys lyrics all day. Words just seem to fall onto the page for him and music, however simple he claims it may be, seems to be a second nature to him.

I gave him some lyrics today, a song a had written myself, and within minutes we were singing it to a brand new tune. He bought my lyrics alive.

I am proud to call this boy a best friend. I am proud to say that he is like a brother to me.

So if anyone is out and about in Worcester Town Centre tomorrow, or if anyone has got nothing else to do, come and show us a bit of support and enjoy watching us do what we love for no other reason than that we love it!


Weird Things Happen When You Don't Sleep..

I think i might stay awake more often!

Monday, 17 May 2010

Hold my toaster, I am trying to dance here

As previously blogged, Saturday marked the 'end' of my second year of uni - of course this end celebration is so premature that i am currently sitting in the same 24 hour room i have been sitting in for the last 10 hours finishing off work - it should be named the 'almost end of year ball' as i feel this would be far more fitting.


Saturday, was, as expected, my favourite day of the entire year and finished it off rather fittingly - ignoring of course the epic amount of work i still have to do. The day event was filled with a cider tent, a burger stand, bumper cars and a spinny flyey ride thing which i think was called
the joker.

Before going to the day event i had to 'pop' to town with Jake and Maria to get some last minute supplies and ended up staying there for about three hours, therefore not getting to the day event until two hours after it had started.

The sun thankfully decided to make a permanent appearance and i even managed to get some - very tiny - tan lines! For anyone who knows me this is an impressive step forward from my usual epic burning, followed by returning to my i-should-be-ginger* skin complexion!

The first time i went on the spiney flyey ride, lets call it Joe, although that makes it sound like 'i went on Joe' which is a bit misleading, lets stick with the spiney flyey ride instead! Anyway, sorry, i got distracted, the first time i went on spiney flyey ride i thought i was going to chuck up, partly because Maria was sitting next to me changing colour in front on my eyes, but after a few double Malibu's, half a pint of 7.something% cider, two loses at pool, a burger and a couple of turns on the bumper cars i was ready to brave it again and ended up going on four times in a row, and then i only got off cause i really needed to pee!

The rest of the day i spent drunkenly bumper car driving, which i might add, i kicked ass at!! I swear to god i want to become a professional bumper car racer!

After the day event i had a lovely drunken walk home with Jake, Will and Nikki - it was only 6pm - and went to Tesco to act sober in order to buy more alcohol for pre-drinks - and they wonder where all our student loans go! I then tried to sober up in order for me to get ready for the evening event by shaving my legs with a brand new razor.. turns out, not a great way to sober yourself up unless blood spouting from your knee does it for you!!

Skipping forward past all the boring getting ready bit, which took HOURS!!!...

We finally arrived back at the dive at 10o'clock, a whole 3 hours after the evening event had begun! What can i say, we like to arrive fashionably late!

I started on the triple Malibu and cokes and danced the night away while suffering from very painful shoes! Oh well they looked nice!

At some point during the night DJ Ironik - whose only song i know i changed the lyrics to - came to sing or rap or whatever it is he does, and then he had a few pictures with people - i totally jumped on that bandwagon and pushed to the front of the queue just because i wanted to tell him my brilliant lyrics!

Hold my toaster, I'm trying to dance here
Gotta grab some bread and butter
Number 1 material if i do say so myself!

After that i spent a lot of time outside flirting and gained a wing man - wey hey - and in the process got a free chicken burger and a shot!

A lot of my friends left by midnight/1am but i was hardcore and stayed til the end, and it was on my way out i had quite possibly my proudest moment to date. I won't name names but the most beautiful boy started talking to me after making eyes with me all night and asked me if i was going to take him home with me, and d'ya know what i did, I TURNED HIM DOWN! Seriously this boy is gorgeous, and i turned him down. I think that deserves some sort of medal or something!!

Anyway, the rest of the night pretty much involved getting a taxi home - which is literally the next street - because my feet hurt too much to walk and going to bed. All things i am sure no one really wants to read about, much like the rest of this post. But oh well, i got to turn down a god given beauty!

*please note that is not a dig at gingers, i actually adore the hair colour and wish everyday that i had been blessed with the red headedness that in all honestly would suit me a hell of a lot better than my boring brown locks!

Saturday, 15 May 2010

one more before bed

a friendly note if you will.. i know sometimes my blogs might seem a bit self involved, a bit personal and without doubt a way off letting off some emotional steam and a couple of tears along the way. i don't know who reads my blog, i don't tend to ask. i know a few friends of mine who follow it and i know that some friends have read the odd one every now and then but in all honestly i would not care if anyone ever read my posts again. i simply use my blog as a way of processing my thoughts, of getting my emotions away from me and a way of telling someone - even if that someone is simply the blank page i write on - how i feel so that i do not need to bombard my friends constantly with my whiny self involved emotional crap. i know i can be self involved, we all can be, therefore i make no apology for what i write on this blog because this is my space and no oneelse's, you chose to read this, no one makes you, so if you don't like what i write stop reading :)

a few nights ago, while procrastinating from work, i found an old msn conversation. it was the conversation when i told my then best friend that i was in love with him. this conversation is over five years old. reading back my old words i realised how much i have grown, i could remember exactly how i used to feel about him, i used to get panic attacks worrying over how i would tell him, i cried myself to sleep most nights and when i finally plucked up the courage to tell him i remember the relief i felt knowing that that burden was finally unloaded from my shoulders.

it took him almost three years to finally tell me he loved me back, and by then i had moved on and fell in love with my first boyfriend who i was with for two years. when he told me i felt an overwhelming rush of emotions, all of them crashing into each other and confusing themselves with one another. i didn't know what to feel.

things happened with my old best friend, mainly out of pure curiosity, and we soon both realised that we did not love each other the way we thought we did both then and previously. to realise that, especially when i was still coming to terms with my actual first love breaking up with me, was a difficult time. the blows hit me hard and i was lost for a very long time. i glued myself back together by becoming a person i in all honesty did not like, and it took a lot of time.

my point is, that the other night, when i found these conversations, i realised just how far i really have come. i can read those conversations now and speak to those people and i feel nothing but the love of a friendship. it does not mean that the way i felt five years ago was any less real, it just means i grew up.

in life we are handed a lot of heartache. we get hit, blow after blow. and we get over it. at the time it is the most painful thing we have ever felt and sometimes it feels like there is no way out of it, but there is.

we write countless love songs, and write a million blogs all logging our pain, because in reality it is so much easier to express pain than happiness. and there is nothing wrong with that. there is no time limit on how long something should take to get over. and sometimes we never do.

just because i got over my first love doesn't mean i didn't love him once. because i did, with all my heart i did.

right now people are hurting, anyone, i don't know who, this post is simply an observation bought to light by my own experiences. but believe me, from experience, it gets better.

in five, ten, twenty years, you won't even remember. you will read back your words and will be reminded of the heartache you felt, and you will feel unbelievably proud of yourself for how strong you became, even if that strength at the time was false.

we are dealt blows. and we take them hard, and they hurt, and we learn and move on. we get up and prepare ourselves for the next blow we may encounter, whenever that may be.

and eventually we are able to say
hit me. i'm ready.

three cans later

I'm not gonna lie, I'm a little bit hyped up on relentless right about now. Yes it is indeed that time of year.. Essay time!!

I have stupidly unforgivably been putting it off for WEEKS and i knew it would only end badly, but of course, me being me, and me being a student and me just being, i decided it would be OK and that i needed the panic to set in before any such work could be done.

Why oh bloody why?!

It is now quarter to three in the morning and i have been sat at the same computer since about six o'clock yesterday evening. The work is getting there, and i do feel like I'm doing a not half bad job at it, but even so..

I wish i hadn't have left it this late!

On the plus side i have found out this new thing about You Tube where you can get it to loop songs, so they from a play list and just play, on repeat, without you having to do anything. How i have never known this before now i will never know!

Fair to say that this discovery has got me through the last nine hours of reading - god that's depressing!! - and from it i have discovered some pretty good artists and songs. My play list is finally growing :)

Tori Amos - Smells Like Teen Spirit, Sleeps With Butterflies, Bouncing Off Clouds
Anna Nalick - Wreck Of The Day, Shine
Jann Arden - Insensitive
Suzanne Vega - The Queen and The Soldier, Luka, Tom's Diner
The Cranberries - Animal Instincts
10,000 Maniacs
Aimee Mann
Cat Power

Friday, 14 May 2010


The night makes you a star and it holds you cold in its arms

You're the one to whom nobody verses, "I love you"
Unless you say it first

So you lie there holding your breath
And it's strange how soon you forget that you're like stars
They only show up when it's dark 'cause they don't know their worth

And I think you need to stop following misery's lead
Shine away
Shine away
Shine away

Isn't it time you got over how fragile you are
We're all waiting
Waiting on your supernova 'cause that's who you are
And you've only begun to shine

Wednesday, 12 May 2010

Not gonna lie, I'm a little bit excited!!!

Saturday marks the end of another year of uni with its Summer Ball. Now while the idea of spending all day and night on uni campus, dancing in a room which is quite appropriately called The Dive might seem we've drawn the short straw of life, I could not be any more excited!

The Summer Ball last year was one of my most favourite days, and it marked for me the perfect ending to a wonderful year. It was the one night where all of my best friends dressed up, got drunk and spent an entire day and night together without any worry of assignments or exams - unfortunately this year will not be as relaxed as I still have a portfolio and two essays to write but as the panic has not yet set in I feel I will be able to enjoy my Saturday on campus - and with this in mind, today I went shopping.

Now in all honesty I should be spending my time this week working on the portfolio, presentation and two essays, but who needs to do all of that when you can be out buying new shoes?!

And I didn't just buy one pair, I bought two. One flat pair, one healed pair. And of course a day dress for the day event, new make up, false eyelashes, a bag, floral hair clips, some bracelets and a pair of earrings. The fake tanning has been taking place over the last week and I got my fringe trimmed today so now all that is left to buy is the all important matching underwear! - Something I think we should all do more often.

I love to have matching undies on, whether anyone else is going to see them or not. It just makes me feel like my outfit is that little bit more complete.

So after my massive, girly and very enjoyable ball shop with Maria and Becca I feel I am now ready to crack on with this work and break in my new shoes!!

I don't think men will ever know or understand just how much time, effort, blood, sweat and tears us women put in for a fancy night in The Dive!

Tuesday, 11 May 2010

I have more fire than you could ever imagine, so stand out of my way or you're going to get burnt.

I'm beginning to think that maybe the past never really leaves you, that it can never been experienced and then forgotten about and locked up in that tiny little box that you keep under your bed. That the pain from the past, no matter how much you insist you are over it, can ever really be let go of.

I have never had my past thrown back in my face as much as i have the last week. I have never had so many hateful nasty hurtful things said to me about a person that i no longer am, by someone who claims to always have had, and always will have, a special place for me in their heart. I have never felt the backlash of events which happened over a year ago as much as i am beginning to now.

I made mistakes. I did stupid things. I dealt with my problems in the most unconventional ways possible. I became a person i did not recognise and there was not one moment when i ever felt anything other than self loathing towards myself.

I feel i judged myself enough to not require this new added loathing from someone else. I realise that my decisions hurt other people and i thought that i had apologised enough for that. I refuse to make any more apologises for how i fixed myself then, and how i may chose to again now and i do not expect verbal abuse from anyone, especially the person who led me down this road.

I am done. I am done trying to care about someone who does not know what it is to truly feel love. I am done trying to convince myself that we can be friends. I am done trying to believe that it will be easy.

I am done believing you when you say that what happened over a year and a half ago no longer matters to you, because obviously it does, otherwise you would not keep throwing it back in my face and becoming a person i never knew you could be.

You are not over it. So stop lying to yourself and pretending otherwise. Stop telling me how to deal with things when you clearly still have a lot to deal with yourself. Stop flitting between the same two girls again and again and again and preaching to me about what you can and cannot do.

I am nothing like you. And i am not that person i became for a short time last year. I am worth a million you and i am worth a million of her. The sooner you realise that the sooner you can finally begin to forgive me for things i apologised for a year ago.

Until then i am done with this, and us, and you.

You are not my friend. We have never been friends. So why don't we stop kidding ourselves into believing that we can be now.

It's over. Past, present and future.

I will not let it catch up with me any longer.

Monday, 10 May 2010

Hypocrites you're all here for the very same reason

My blog. It is where i rant, where i laugh, where i cry. It is the place i come to when i need to escape from that never ending pile of work. It is the venue of my friends current lives, their feelings, their stories, their daily inspiration. It is the portal through which i get to experience strangers days via their clever wit and poetic words that fall seamlessly onto the page. It is the comforter of my hardest days and the best friend of my funniest. It is my present and it is the idle dreams of my future. It is the darkest moments of my past, forever written down and documented for me to read at any time allowing me to see just how far i have come.

I read it when i need to remember. When i need to prove to myself just how strong i am or can be. When i need that reality check or to simply have a laugh at an old memory.

My blog doesn't judge me. It doesn't care how i am feeling, it just lets me. It lets me break down and it lets me rant. It lets me express my overwhelming feelings towards another and it never tells me that i am being silly or naive or irrational. It never changes its feelings towards me the way in which a person, a friend can and it never forewarns me of the dangers ahead.

It simply lets me be.

My blog is quite possibly one of my best friends. Like that blanket you have had since you were four or the teddy that spent night after night in your cot with you as you slept. It is the bucket you sit on your lap after a messy night out and the tissues that fill your bin throughout all your heartache. It is the warm summers days with friends and the late night conversations about thoughts so deep they should really be kept for another day.

And my blog is the window through which i let my friends know how i am feeling without having to actually tell them. It is the way i speak when i am unable to physically find the words, it is the endless thank you's i owe to so many of my friends and family, it is the memories i know i will never forget and it is all there for anyone to read and do with as they so wish.

I feel like I'm naked in front of the crowd
Cause these words are my diary, screaming out loud
And I know that you'll use them, however you want to

Saturday, 8 May 2010

There's a little bit of Meredith in all of us

Wednesday, 5 May 2010

Tell me why

I took a chance, I took a shot
And you might think I'm bullet proof but I'm not
You took a swing, I took it hard
And down here from the ground I see who you are

I'm sick and tired of your attitude
I'm feeling like I don't know you
You tell me that you love me and then you cut me down

And I need you like a heartbeat
But you know you got a mean streak
Makes me run for cover when you're around

And here's to you and your temper
Yes, I remember what you said last night
And I know that you see what you're doing to me
Tell me, why?

I doon't know Jeff

Tuesday, 4 May 2010

Sometimes the best words to describe how you feel are those of others

Monday, 3 May 2010

Don't Speak

Falling in love with your best friend can be the most precious amazing gift anyone can be handed.
It can also be the most painful numbing experience of your life.
A dark hole with no way out of it.
Because when one of you falls out of love, or was never even in love in the first place, you don't just lose your boyfriend, you lose your best friend and all the light you had is gone.

I really feel like I'm losing my best friend
I can't believe this could be the end

It looks as though you're letting go
And if its real
Well I don't want to know

Don't speak
I know just what you're saying
So please stop explaining
Don't tell me 'cause it hurts

Not the best of quality...

A whole bunch of maybes and a pocket full of tears

I just want to write a blog. To get it off my chest. To stop me from saying the same thing over and over and over again to my friends. To stop me gasping for breath and to stop me crying a flood of tears.

Part of me hopes my words will be beautiful, that they will fill the page delicately with my new found heartache, that they will touch people and let them see honestly, just how numb and hurt and betrayed as I feel right now. But I cannot promise that. All I can promise is that these words will be true.

I've wrote before about heartache. God knows I have. About the boys who have wronged me. About when the one who you thought was going to be the one who fixed it turns out to be the one who hurts you most of all. About the cheating boy. About the liar. About the boys I hate. About the ones who have made me cold. About the best friends.

And about "the boy".

The one who I honestly, truly, above anyone else I thought - I
knew - was going to going to be a keeper. The one who was going to make me trust again. The one who was going to stay throughout all of my emotional crap all the other boys had left me with. The one who was going to make me trust again and learn to love again. About the one I thought was going to be my Prince Charming.

Apparently I was wrong again.

I've said it before and I will say it again - I always know. I know when something is wrong, when things aren't going right. And I tell my friends, and they convince me, they promise me, that I am just being paranoid, that I am just being a worry guts and that I have nothing, at all, to worry about. But in the end I am always right.

I knew again. That he was being weird. That things were going wrong. That he was being distant. And I tried to convince myself that it was my hormones, that I was being silly, that he was just distracted because of his fight. And I believed me.
Because I believed him.

To have your heart broken is painful. To have your heart broken by your best friend is soul destroying. To have your heart broken by your best friend who promised from the beginning when you told him you were worried, when you said you didn't want to rush into things, that you didn't want to get hurt again and that you didn't want to lose your best friend again, that that would never happen, that he was in it for the long haul, does exactly what it says on the tin.

People can talk, and they can judge. They can say that after barely two months you can't love someone enough to feel like this. They're wrong. This wasn't just a first time, this was a second time. A second chance. To undo all the crap I did to him before, to make up for all my mistakes and to love him the way I only wish I had been brave enough to the first time. This was my second chance so of course I fell in to it irrationally.

I gave it my all because I believed in it. And I still do.

He says he loves me. With all his heart apparently. Yet apparently a whole heart is no longer enough. Not when that heart is shared with other people. And it doesn't matter than those other people do not love him back. It doesn't matter than I am the one who sticks by him, who cares for him, who stays awake with him, who just watches him, who goes to see his fights and cheers him on. None of that matters when parts of the 'whole heart' that is given to one person is being shared between many.

Maybe he doesn't know what real love is.
Maybe he is taking everything he has for granted.
Maybe, hopefully, in the morning he will regret all of this.
Maybe he will read this and realise just how much he is throwing away for the sake of a list of girls who will never care for him in the way I do.

And for tonight at least, I will live on these 'maybes'. I will wish and pray and hope that I wake up in the morning to "the boy" I fell for, not just once but twice. And I will fight for him. Because surely something this precious should not be let go of without a fight.

Sunday, 2 May 2010

Tapped out

Today I went to see "the boy" in his first MMA fight in Cheltenham. For months he has been trying to get me to go and see him and for months I have been saying I never would, afraid of seeing him get hurt and of me beginning to cry. Then a few weeks ago I decided that I should be a supportive girlfriend and go and see the boy who I care for more than anyone else get his ass kicked or kick someone elses!

So today my lovely friend Sam drove myself and Boodge Lane to Cheltenham to witness our first ever live cage fight.

When we first set out I was not nervous or worried at all. I just wanted to show my support, then as we neared our destination I felt the nerves begin to kick in. I suddenly went very quite and felt my hands beginning to clam.

Then we realised "the boy" had given us the wrong postcode and we were no where near the venue and my nerves disappeared.

When we finally got to the Trojan gym where it was taking place and I saw the cage he was going to be fighting in I began to feel a little sick and slightly emotional, upset at the thought of my boyfriend being locked in there with a potentially massive grown man with a skin head and tattoos all up his back and arms.

After a half an hour wait I decided to go to the toilet to calm myself a little. In there I met a girl call Natalie. She asked me if I could do French platts and asked me if I could tie her hair out of her face, she said how she was nervous as today was going to be her first fight too. Speaking to her I felt all of my worry begin to fade as I realised that it was not something to worry about and that this is actually quite a respectful sport. This was then echoed as the fights began to take place, all beginning and ending with a handshake or congratulating gesture of some kind towards each other.

With each group that fought I found myself beginning to get more and more in to the sport, especially when Natalie, the girl whose hair I platted, went up to fight. I really began to get into it and started shouting her name and cheering. It was a real adrenaline rush!

"The boy" was 18th so I thankfully had 17 other fights to watch before his which I think helped me stay calm and get used to what I was going to see him doing sometime soon. It was a lovely atmosphere in the room and everyone was cheering everyone on, apart from of course me who had no idea what any of the moves or locks were called. It was reassuring to hear "the boy" shouting moves at other fighters as it reminded me that he does in fact know what he was doing and that he was not going to hurt himself or do anything silly.

When it was finally his turn to fight I was on the edge of my seat. I wanted to take photos but I wanted to watch it all. I wanted to shout but I didn't know what to say. I wanted him to know I was there supporting him but I didn't want to distract him. So I stayed quite, screaming him support from inside my mind.

Before the first round had even finished the guy he was fighting tapped out and Taz, my boyfriend, had won his first ever MMA fight. I can not even begin to explain how proud I was of him. All I could do was smile. Lots.

When he first stood up and everyone cheered a tiny scream slipped from my mouth before I had chance to stop it. Then out of our chairs myself and Boodge Lane jumped and we ran to hug and congratulate our brown boy.

I don't think that boy will ever know how much I care about him. He is quite honestly one of the most important people in my life right now, and I hope for a very long time to come. I know his love for me will never be what it is for Boodge Lane but that is something I have come to accept. I guess all relationships have their compromises and this is mine. Seeing him today made me so proud and right now I can not stop smiling and telling people about the boy who won his first ever fight and looked yummy while doing so!

nom <3