Im Backkk...

Right, so I've returned!

And I've been away because it's been summer, or at least thats the name it goes by and I've been keeping myself busy with working to earn me some pennies and spending time with my rather lovely home girls!

And it's been a right old few months for crazy things happening, I started going out once a month with the rents and some friends of theirs and I've watched as they've single - handedly turned a quietish, regulars karoke based pub, to a place which hosts random belly dancing women and a long line of Oops Upside Your Head dancing.

Mental.

My brother and his kids also came to stay for a few weeks and I must say I think I am now quite the expert on Ben 10 thanks to my nephew. I also learnt I look stunning in a Rory the Racing Car hat. ooofs!

Oh and a quick note, bouncy castles are the most exhausting thing on the planet, how on earth did we all spend hours on end on them as kids?? I bounced up and down only twice before I felt a few months cut off of my life!

Anyway, all in all, it's been an eventful little few months and I have enjoyed it.

But right now, I'm just finishing packing up my stuff once more for the returning trip to uni for my third and final year. Scary stuff.

So as Freshers' Week looms, I'm sure some new little adventures will occur soon, so until then...

Oh and the mentioned monthy night out with the rents and co, tonight is the night!

Listening to: Magistrates - Heartbreak

Hair-mare Part 2

So if you're a regular reader, or if you scroll down a few posts, then you'll have read about my hair-mare a few weeks ago.

The state it was in, I felt like I had had my fair share of hair disasters for at least, well I would say a year, but I'd of been happy to make it half a year.

But oh no, fate had other plans for me.

You see at the weekend I went and had my roots done at the hairdressers. Everything was fine, my roots where gone and mt hair looked fairly decent once more.

But today, I woke up early on so decided to wash my hair. After, when I went out into the garden to speak to my mum, all I heard was, 'Oh my god Jay, your roots look light.'

As I looked into the mirror on the fence, yes you may have guessed it, my roots where once again, ginger.

So a return to the hairdressers and an hour or so later, and my hair has been returned to it's one colour glory.

I swear to god somebody, somewhere believes I'm destined to be ginger.

But it looks like I'm not the only one to fall victim to the odd Hairmare day, but at least mine weren't intentional, honestly, what do people think when they look in a mirror eh??


Listening to: Marmaduke Duke - Rubber Lover

Happy Forty Thirteenth Mummy Sev!

As you may have guessed from the title, yesterday was my mum's birthday, her forty-thirteenth birthday, not the 53 otherwise you get a swift kick in the shin!

But anyway, we decided to celebrate the day by going for a meal and some drinks at our local pub The Eight Towers.

And as it happened, it was the pub's weekly quiz night, so with a few drinks in us we were all up for the challenge.

So we tried our bestest and we did reasonably well, 43 out of 55 and the winners got 47, so we were quite pleased.

I personally was very happy because I got a sport's question right which my dad didn't know and a few that were about things that happened before I was born.

After the quiz it was time for the usual The Price is Right, so we had our raffle ticket ready to let Mummy 'Birthday Girl' Sev win us some beer.

But, well, it didn't quite go to plan. And here is a video of us being very bad losers. This is the now infamous rent Daddy Sev with a few bottles of wine in him and being rather bitter about the Sev's luck and generally being a bad sport!!

Feel Free To Play Along!!


Maybe now you'll understand why I'm the way I am with half of this man's genes being me!!!

Listening to: Lady GaGa - Beautiful Dirty Rich

The 4 Day Weekend

So I'm currently half way through my Easter holiday and the Easter weekend is now officially over and done with. Bad times.

But I'm quite glad in a way. You see, where as most people had the common sense to spend the extra long and might I add, sunny and warm weekend, with friends or family having a laugh and probably a few drinks, I did not.

Which does nothing for my so called party girl status I know.

Instead I spent my 4 day weekend giving my car, who is called Maybel by the way, (and yes I am THAT sad, which you should know already by now!) a full on makeover a la Sev.

Firstly, she was hoovered and scrubbed, which took time as she hasn't been cleaned since about August/September last year, so she was rather minging.

Then, I polished and cleaned the dashboard and other plasticy areas inside the car. After that Maybel then got a well deserved wash, during which I also got to soak Daddy Sev with the hose, which entertained me greatly for 2 minutes.

Here is where Day 1 of the Maybel Makeover ended because I felt like my arms where about to drop off.

Onto Day 2, which is Easter Sunday by the way, where most people sit and eat chocolate. Me however, was about to learn what painful arms were really like!

Maybel was about to get the T-Cut treatment, but only half of her because I felt like I was about to pass out from the constant waxing on and waxing off non stop for like an hour.

And finally Day 3 where the T Cutting continued and finished. I then re-blackened her bumpers and other black plastic trims where they had turned grey in the sun.

Maybel was finally complete. I'd spend the majority of my Bank Holiday weekend scrubbing and sweating over her, but she was done.

And to be fair, she does look amazing and I'm very proud of my uber man-like spent weekend, beer breaks included.

Or at least I was until I hear about how all my friends and other normal people spent their weekend, generally having fun and partying.

I knew then I'd made the wrong, probably sadder decision! Oh well, I spose I have to uphold the sad reputation somehow!

Listening to: White Lies - Farewell to the Fairground

Chef Sev??

Okay, so before now I have talked about my lack of cooking ability/skill, and I think today I proved that I am infact totally incapable of feeding myself!

You see, today dear Mummy Sev left me in charge of her home-made chicken soup, because she got called into her recently burnt down work to help clean up.

So she gave me instructions with what to do, which basically consisted of keep stirring it as it boils and when the barley has cooked through move it onto the other ring on a lower temperature.

Simple enough yes?

Not simple enough for me. In less than an hour since dear Mummy Sev's departure I had managed to burn it.

Yes, I BURNT soup. Please someone tell me they've done this?? Please??

So I'm thinking I should start a search for a person who is willing to look after me forever and ever and cook and feed me for the same period of time.

Any volunteers before I do this to a kitchen near you soon??



Listening to: Switches - Drama Queen

Tonight Matthew..

For those of you who don't know, which means you're a very bad blog follower as it says this somewhere over there >>>,
I study Broadcast Journalism therefore making me a BJ, think of this what you will.

We are a very close bunch and we often have BJ nights out where we all get together and party, party, party. Over the years we have learned we are very good at this.

And this week the BJ party Train hit The Ember Lounge for a bit of karaoke action. Oh yeahh!

And we had lots to celebrate as we had just suffered our last newsday as level 2 students and also our last ever lecture as level 2 students. We'd actually survived 2 whole years of university.

So as a collection of us gathered, the drinks flowed and we soon took over the mic. Some of these performances where captured on video, so I thought this would be a great oppurtunity to show you what the future broadcasters of news are supposed to look like!

First up is some of the BJ Ladies, not including myself, singing Ricky Martin's Livin' La Vida Loca..


Next is our resident James Bell, or Chef Shamus as you may know him, showing us a bit of his Micheal Jackson moves!



CHECK HIS BAD SELF!

And last but certainly not least, is some of the BJ Girls once again, giving The Spice Girls a run for their money... or not!


I'm thinking we best stick to the day job?? :)

Tommy Sparks - She's Got Me Dancing

Blackened Blue Eyes..

I think possibly I have finally out-done myself in terms of stupidness. Yes, I too am suprised it's took me this long.

I woke up the other morning with a soaking wet pillow, kitchen roll stuck to the side of my face and when I finally dragged myself out of bed, a black eye. Oh yes.

And here it is in the later stages of it's life, bearing in mind it has faded!



As the previous night before on a great night out, a drunken friend of mine, who was drunker than me before you think/ask, came over to hug me but instead just sort of rugby tackled me, lost his balance and took me down with him.

And drunken me decided to cushion the blow with my face, great idea.

I got dragged up off the floor by my lovely friend Helen and the laughs circulated as usual. But about 2 minutes later as I was dancing there was something in my vision which I couldn't figure out what it was.

As I wear contact lenses I thought perhaps maybe as I fell, my contact had shifted awkwardly.

So as I went to sort it I felt this funny thing on my head. Shock soon set in when I realised it the funny thing on my head and the strange thing in my vision were both infact, my head.

I told a few friends about it and asked them what it looked like. Views were split, they either laughed or looked horrified.

And within about a minute I had a new nickname, Quasimodo and my bump had been Christened Bobby the Bump.

Then I seemed to turn into some sort of circus freak as people around me kept beckoning others to come look at me. Bear in mind this whole time I'm still pretty alcoholed up and can't understand what all the fuss is about and all I wanna do is dance.

As the days passed, my eye has got worse and worse and shows no sign of dissapearing anytime soon!!

Even the other night when I went out again to celebrate the anniversary of Bobby the Bumps birth, I thought I had done a good cover up job, only to see the pictures the next day and see the black eye was obvious in every single one!

I am officially an utter stunner am I not? aha!

Listening to: Lily Allen - It's Not Fair

Oh Great!!

I have hated my hair for a long time now. I like to change it a lot because I get bored and know that I'll have to stick to one colour one day, so I'm trying to try them all out.

And yesterday I decided with some help from mother Sev that it was the day for change.

The colour I was was like a very dark brown verging on black because previously I had red hair and it was the only colour I could go to get rid of the red tinge through my hair.

I absoloutley hated it when I first got it as black didn't suit me. But as it faded I got used to it and I settled. But it was time for change, I wanted shot.

So I went home and my mum had purchased this box stripper so we decided, what could go wrong? and went ahead and proceeded with the mission to give me beautiful new hair!

But of course, it was Friday the 13th, so a lot was about to go wrong! My mum, being the amazing but rather adamant soul she is, went in full speed ahead thinking she could take Lee Stafford on in the hair stakes and didn't read the instructions.

So a few half hours later, we washed the stripper out and lord had it worked! it took all the black colour out and a bit of the red colour I'd had before the big black out, which was fine, but, my roots were yellow, and no, I don't mean blonde, I mean YELLOW.

Now this was because my roots were my natural hair colour and the instructions tell you to wait half an hour before putting the stripper on the top half of your head.

But no, mummy Sev didn't do it that way, so my hair could pass as a flame with the different colours of yellow, orange and red that ran through it.

But hopefully, putting the box colour on it would change that and I'd have lovely hair still. But no, another half an hour later my roots where still an horrific shade of yellow.

Now, at this point, it's 11 o'clock at night. So, my mum and me with my multicoloured dream hair ended up in the 24 hour Asda searching through the box colours in the hope that this would finally give me amazing hair.

Suffice, it did not, and my dad looked like he was ready to cry at his mess of a daughter. And here is the mess of head..




But, the hair disaster was eventually sorted by an early morning trip to the professionals at the hairdressers.

So, the moral of the story?

a) don't let mummy sev anywhere near your head!

b) especially don't let her near it on Friday the 13th!

c) don't play with box colours and stripper!!


Listening to: La Rocca - Non Believer

She's the Man!

Wednesday this week I had a rather blokey day and I blame it all on Varsity

Now for those of you not in the know Varsity is when my uni, Staffordshire, take on our rivals, Keele, in numerous amounts of sports and whoever wins the most, wins Varsity and obviously the title of the best uni.

And this year was my first Varsity and our uni was playing host.

I got there ready to watch the end of men's hockey. And it wasn't good news. We were losing and losing badly.

So my loyalty to Staffs kicked in and I thought it was about time to put my big mouth to some use for once. And I started chanting.

Not only that, but I started an argument with Keele's goalkeeper, which centred around the fact he was, lets say obese, although those were not the words I chose to use at the time.

I shan't repeat what I said incase my mother reads this, but I can trust you all to use your imaginations.

The final whistle eventually blew. We lost and the obese goalkeeper threw a gesture in my direction and ran off, or should I say wobble off, to join the rest of his team.

I was annoyed to say the least. So off we went to the toilet to go vent about the Keelites. And on said journey a friend told me to have some of their beer to calm down.

Now I'm not a beer drinker, but I wasn't in a position to turn down alcohol. So I knocked some back and off we went to find the next sport to chant to.

But on our way out of the toilets, we heard some shouting, and this shouting was 'KEELE, KEELE, KEELE!'

At that moment in time we all looked at each other and we all knew what had to be done. We had to go up to wherever the shouting was coming from and chant 'STAFFS!' louder. So off we ran.

We didn't know where we were going or what sport it was but we knew our uni needed us!

And it was women's basketball. And we were winning. I was smiling already. But Keele were putting up a good fight which didn't please me much. So I kept knicking some more of my mate's beer.

And as I took a swig, I noticed something that brought a massive smile to my face and a whole load of new chants to the table.

One of the girls from Keele's team was the spitting image of Panda from Skins. Now for those of you not in the know, which I'm hoping is very few, this is Panda.



And in Skins she plays the idiot of the group, so you can imagine my delight as this came to mind. I then proceeded to tell everyone I was with about it.

My next move was to chant 'WHIZZZER!' as loud as I possibly could. And it soon caught on. It was an amazing game, and we won. Even better, 'Panda' looked fuming, which kept the smile on my face.

We then moved on to mens rugby. And on the way I was thinking of as many chants and insults as I possibly could, all in the name of support for Staffs of course.

When we got there however, I needn't have bothered. There was a girl with a megaphone just constantly shouting abuse at a guy from Keele and she was amazing! But we lost.

So again, the beer was knocked back to console ones self as we trecked back over to womens hockey. And we lost that also, so another beer was sunk down.

We were losing 6-5 and we only had mens basketball and football left. We had to win basketball to level it to even have a chance to win. So we quickly grabbed another beer and ran upto the gym.

And the atmosphere was nothing short of immense. Chants were rife and Staffs were leading. Eventually the game ended and we won. We were even and it was down to the football.

Happy Sev. So then we cracked more beers for celebration. I think its fair to say at this point I was pretty under the influence.

But I didn't care, we were going to win varsity and the night ahead of us was going to be amazing.

And we eventually won the football and in turn won Varsity - WHOOPA!

And it's probably the most blokey day I've ever had in my life. I drank beer which I never ever do, watched sports which I rarely do these days and last but not least, I practically become a sports hooligan with the amounts of arguments I got into!!

Blokey Ass Bird oh yes..

Listening to: Oasis - She's Electric

Do you know the Muffin Man?

So if you've read this blog before then you'll already know that I'm no culinary genius, the opposite is more near to the truth.

But something rather strange has took hold and I've some how took on some housewife genetics. Me and my friend Tarley, two of the most un-female females ever, spent our Saturday evening making chocolate muffins.

Now I could easily fool you all into thinking that we made these from scratch, but I shan't lie. We used 79p mix from Asda.

We managed to add the milk and the eggs to expert precision and the mix went into the oven without a problem. They smelt amazing.

But, when they came out of the oven and into our faces, we felt rather let down. As the gorgeous aromas that filled my kitchen did not match the rather bland taste.

Gutted.

So the muffins got left. We were annoyed at them more than anything else so we didn't want to look at them.

But after sleeping on it, me and Tarley had a flashing light bulb above the head moment. We could possibly salvage the muffins by melting some chocolate over the top.

Genius.

And I swear the sense of excitement at this moment in time was unreal. Something like when you wake up on Christmas morning and realise it's actually Christmas.

Anyways, off I ran to my room where I had a stash of chocolate buttons Mummy Sev had purchased for me on her last visit to Stoke.

And so the melting process began. And as Tarley scooped the chocolate onto the muffins we both looked at each other as if to say, "These are going to be amazing." See for yourself.



It was a tense moment. We put them in the fridge to try and let the chocolate set a bit quicker, but we couldn't wait.

And they actually were amazing. Well, compared to the previous days bland, bath sponge like efforts.

But then we got slightly more brave, we decided to melt toffee and put that on top. It seemed like a genius idea, I mean, toffee on a muffin, thats brilliant, right?

Well, yes and no. See, the toffee coated muffins were beyond lush, but only when they hadn't quite set. A few hours later, when the munchies hit and we decided to finish off the muffins, the dissapointed faces were to return.

See, any normal person would realise that toffee, once set, is an extremely hard substance. Muffin however, is not. Mixing these two things together, not a brilliant idea if you wish to keep your teeth.

So, although not a thorough success, we were still happy with our improvements to the muffins. And to be honest, it wouldn't have felt right if something didn't go wrong, I mean it is me after all.

And I also learned about the sheer excitement muffins bring to life. All for 79p. I'll say it again,

Genius.

Listening to: Franz Ferdinand - No You Girls

DANZING!

I've spent the last few days searching for funny videos on YouTube with my mates and I feel I have come across some of the most hysterical things I have ever seen.

I would quite happily sit and watch these back to back all day and I'd still find them funny.

But I have been told by some people that they aren't humourous in the slightest and that I'm a freak and have a weird sense of humour.

So, I'm putting them on here and you can tell me if I'm a sad get or not, it's like Big Brother, YOU DECIDE!

Oh the power I give you people..

First up, is a remake of the infamous Charlie Bit Me vid, I do love it!


Next, is Ukraines entry into the 2007 Eurovision Song Contest, this should well have won!


So, is it funny, yes or no please??

Listening to:The Raveonettes - Love In A Trashcan

Pint Puller Sev

So this weekend, I made a return to the pub I worked in over the summer of last year, the first time since, as the landlord asked me for a favour, plus I desperately needed the beer money!!

The pub is called The Albert Hotel and it's your basic bog standard pub that only regulars dare enter.

And I don't know why it has Hotel at the end of the name though, coz it's the last place you'd stay over night! Actually see for yourself!


Anyway, I was back and after some serious tippage as the purse strings had snapped and washed away a long time ago.

Now you may be thinking that a female pint puller would have no trouble getting tips. Wrong.

Because this just wasn't any female pint puller, it was me.


I'm female yes, but there isn't much else that is particularly feminine about me. I grew up with my older brother as my main influence and I feel because of this, I'm more boy-like than I should be.

I also have a rather big mouth on me, so when I get grief from customers, they get a load back. Not a good way to charm them into giving you their money.

And before you think it, my chest is not of a proportion that would goad any male into forking over tippage.

So basically, I had to come up with a plan to get the tips flowing. And this I'm slightly ashamed to admit, was to flutter the eyelashes and be a girly girl for the evening. Hard times.

But, it did work. So I don't know what is more sad, the fact that I sold out and became a total full on female for the evening for money (hooker much?), or that men in pubs actually fork out extra money if there's a younger face that laughs at their really bad jokes??

Please tell me it's the latter people...

Listening to: Snow Patrol - Crazy in Love

Pancake Day!!

Pancake Day is an amazing day. And yesterday, I got my first Pancake Day away from home. And me being the baby of the family, I have generally always been looked after, so making pancakes was a complete mystery to me.

Anyone who knows me relatively well will tell you I am pretty damn rubbish at any form of cooking and, unless I'm married or purchase a carer as I age, I actually will die of hunger in the future, I'm that bad. But I'm slowly learning thanks to the fabulous help of Chef Shamus.

So the night began. And no-one was brave enough to cook the pancakes themselves, so I stepped up coz I wasn't about to go without.

After a quick pancake advice phonecall to the father, we heated up the pan and poured the mixture in. Some odd looking lumps proceeded to fall out of the shake and bake tub.

Last time I checked, lumps weren't on the menu. So we were a bit weary, but we carried on regardless. With a bit of mix with a knife the lumps disintegrated and a pancake looking mass formed.

Then it was flipping time. And guess what? I didn't drop it! HA! Well, the first flip I didn't. Then I attempted to show off and do it for a second time and it hit the dust. See for yourselves!




But in no time I soon become quite the pancake expert and the pancakes where flying. Unusually for once, not literally. And if the video of my amazing pancake skills isn't enough for you, here is an example of my work. And excuse my dirty hob please.


So I can't cook a bog standard roast or anything anyone else in the world eats, but I can make pancakes. Am I starting to sound a little bit more like marriage material yet??? Thought not!

Listening to: Head Automatica - Beating Hearts Baby

Park Life!

Is it wrong, that every now and again, I refer to a child-like state? This is where any common sense and decency I have gained across my 20 years goes well and truly out the window, and stupidity and sillyness takes hold.

This happens only every now and again, but last night it reared it's head once more. And where did this mood take me? The park. At midnight.

So off me and some mates go, to make the massive trip across the road, but on our travels we came across a discovery. This wonder was a trolley.



Now as I'm sure any teenager, student or really crazy people will know, the sense of excitement you feel when you come across a lone trolley in the middle of nowhere is immense.

So of course, we grabbed the trolley and off we went. Now me being the dick I am, volunteer to actually get into the trolley while it is pushed, who does this please?

Now it was always going to happen, and I knew it would, but not quite as epically as it did. I was to fall out.

And I did, whilst the trolley was balancing on a mini trampoline. Oh how I was never going to win that battle. And I have the sore kidneys to prove it.

It offered some humour to the evening so I was happy with that.

But the sad act didn't end there. Oh no. We then proceeded to play on every piece of park equipment in existence. Even the baby parks.

And then, the really sad thing happened. We went on a ghost hunt.

Bear in mind this is a park right slap bang in the middle of a massive housing estate, probably the last place ghost's would wish to reside.

But it didn't stop us shitting ourselves up. We knocked on doors, screamed and ran away from flashing lights. Not what I hear normal twenty somethings get up to.

But it's all good, because we have plans to Ouiji Board it in the Band Stand on Friday 13th. And just think Britain, we are your future. =D

Listening to: White Lies - To Lose My Life

Forever Young?

Last time I checked, 20 was not an age that is to be classed as old, at least not the kind of old which means walking up stairs reaks havoc with your knees.

So how come I feel like I should be admitted to hospital due to the absolute agony my body is in?
I am a month into my twenties, or twenteens as I prefer to call them, and I have been out 4 times between Monday and Friday.

Now, I'm of the mindset that would say that because I am only 20, I should be able to handle this no worries. But I woke up this morning, okay, this afternoon, and I honestly felt like I'd been hit by a bus.

I never understand this, all I do on a night out is dance or chat, not exactly cross country runs. And before you think it, it's not the alcohol, because I'm the biggest lightweight ever and I can't really knock it back without falling asleep, not very attractive.

And because of this, I've spent the majority of the day wasting away in bed with only the Hollyoaks and Neighbours Omnibus for company. I do hope my life is to take an exciting turn at some point.

Still, at least I woke up in bed, unlike these poor fellows.

Listening to: Kids in Glass Houses - Give Me What I Want

Posh? Me?

Okay, so the sad life continues and today I did my bestest impression of a posh, rich person!

Now before I continue I would like to stress that I am neither rich or posh or even a combination of the two, in fact, it's quite the very opposite!

So yes, my dad found a Jaguar he liked and coinsidently, it happened to be living in a garage about 5 mins away from where I live.

So this morning I went with him so he could sign some paperwork and such things and see the car for the first time.

Now, I drive an ancient Ford Fiesta that has more bumps in it than Jodie Marsh's face. Ahem.

But yes, you can only imagine what it looks like to turn up at a really posh Jaguar garage in a Ford Fiesta, not very swarve.

As soon as we went in, it was only to get worse. The garage has a few customers in there, all suited and booted business men wearing lables I could only imagine looking at never mind wearing.

A guy greets my dad with a massive hello and ushers us over to these massive leather couches, the likes of which I've only ever seen in my rich auntie's house, and she's 'own a football club' rich.

Next minute there's a man bringing us a cup of tea on a saucer, something which I've only ever heard rumours about.



I knew then that the posh phone voice I use very rarely was required and the ladette personality had to be ditched.

Basically, I had to become someone else for half an hour. And lord, it was the hardest half an hour of my life.

And why did I do this? Just because I was in a posh environment and felt the need. And I wasn't even buying a car! Pssh, how sad..

Listening to: Red Light Company - Arts & Crafts

The Roots of My Sad-ism..

This weekend, as you've probably already guessed, I went home to stay with my mum and dad.

The main reason, okay it was to get fed and have something other than pasta with cup-a-soup as a cheap ass sauce solution, but I was also went back to help the rents sort out the loft, or if your a posh Southerner or American, the attic.

Now our loft has been a source of mystery for many years for me, because I've never been able to go anywhere near it.

Now this isn't beause the rents banned me or anything, it was due to a loft lid hitting me on the bonce incident back in '93 when I was about 4, and I have been shit scared to go anywhere near it when the lid has been off since.

Now though, was my time to have the loft experience without actually getting into the loft, coz the stuff was coming to me! And oh my god, (apologies for the blastphemy) I have no idea how the ceilings in our house have never fallen down over the years.

There was so much stuff, which can honestly only be described as shit, pilled up in there and so much of it carried questions over the keepment. The item which shocked me the most was this badboy:




Now these are unworn so you need not panic. These belong to my dear father and originate from the 1970's. He did state he never was a fan of them, but I did question why he kept them.

At least I know now that I can blame my sad, pathetic life on genetics..

Listening to: Ida Maria - Oh My God

The Saddest Episode of My Life So Far..

Okay I think last night, I might have actually secured my place as the world's number 1 loser.

I was watching a film in bed and it finished about 2 o'clock in the morning. So, as normal, I proceed to turn the tv off and roll over and snuggle up in the duvet. But as I search around my bed for Zippy I can't find him.

Now Zippy is like my teddy version of the legendary character from Rainbow, I've had him since I was 3 or 4 and has since then been everywhere I go in which I am to spend a night. And yes, I still hug him. Here he is at a party, he's very loved you see.


Now if the fact that a 20 year old female, who lives alone, still has to sleep with a teddy isn't sad enough, I think last night I may have made the Guinness Book of Records for being a complete and utter sad twat. Excuse my french.

So yes, I couldn't find him, so I put the light on to find that he's nowhere in bed. So I check the floor, he's not there. I check under my bed, he's still not there.

Now at this point a sense of panic kicks in. Sad fact number 1.

So I then look into the bags of stuff I've packed ready to go back to uni in the morning, he's not there.

Now a deeper sense of panic sets in as I realise that over the weekend we've been cleaning out the loft of rubbish and what if he's got put in with the rubbish and has been dumped at the tip?

So the panic then turns to slightly teary eyed. Sad fact number 2.

I then knock on my mum and dads bedroom door to tell them the news. Sad fact number 3.

As I tell them that Zippy, who might aswell be a member of the family at this point in life, is nowhere to be found, a deep 'Oh no' comes out from under the covers.

The lights go on followed by the slippers and so the search for Zippy begins. We check binbags of rubbish in the back room to no avail.

At this point it's half 2 in the morning, and both my mum and dad are in work rather early on. Mum then pulls the ladders out as we soon realise, he's either in the loft or at the tip, and lord behold if its the latter, because I would be inconsolable if Zippy was dead, and yes, he would be dead. Sad fact number 4.

So up goes mother into the loft in search for the youngest family member, while at the bottom, me and my dad contemplate if he could have been in the rubbish that we took to the tip earlier on.

As the pit of my stomach deepens, I look up into the rubbed out eyes of Zippy, who is dangling from the hole in the roof. Mother the legend has found him.

The search is over. And a massive sense of relief washes over me. Sad fact number 5.

So yeahh, I dare anybody to come up with a more sad and pathetic life story then that. Come on!

Listening to: Empire of the Sun - Walking on a Dream

Super Sad Sunday

Okay, just a quick one, is it completely sad and pathetic that every Sunday, I religiously drop everything and cancel any plans and ignore my phone for 2 hours while Supernatural and Being Human are on the tele??

Seriously no human or emergency will matter while these two programmes are on! Now for those of you who don't watch either of these programmes I seriously suggest you do!

And why are these programmes a case for such emergency? I'll let the photos speak for themselves.

May I introduce you to Sam & Dean Winchester of Supernatural fame and Mitchell from Being Human...



So, am I still a super sad get?? :)

Listening to: Le Tigre - Deceptacon

Surprise Surprise..

Okay, I must admit, after my mahoosive rant yesterday, I rather enjoyed playing third wheel to the rents' dinner.

Weapon of choice was Chinese, and I can forgive a variety of sins if Chinese food is involved. And being what I would call a rather stereotypical Northerner, I can pack a fair bit of food away.

I'm not one of these girls to calorie count and run a mini marathon every day, if I want it and it's there, it's getting eaten and then I'm gunna slob out on the couch until I fall asleep.

I'm basically them little brightly coloured people on The Change for Life ads, except I don't get shocked into running around the park after I see them, I just reach for another biscuit.

But as I was saying, a fair old amount of food was consumed and it wasn't romantic by any means, which made it easier for me as that awkward part of being third wheel never came about. Larverly.

I also must point out the extraordinary effort my dear mother went to in order to make it seem less like any other meal. Look at the table please! Even the candles that were purchased just for show were used!



So yeah, it was a nice meal all in all, although it must be pointed out rather unromantic!

Conversation turned to the disgusting smells my dad had been producing from his rectal area all afternoon and a series of explicit references soon followed as to what they smelt like. Still, it didn't put anyone off their food, oh to be Northern eh?

Listening to: The Vines - Ride

Not so Happy Valentine's...

So, it finally hit me today how sad my life has officially become. It's Valentine's Day, or as it has become known in other circles, Happy Nobody Wants You Day, the day all singles with coupled off friends dread. And that's me!

Now I'm not particularly bothered by this fact, I'm quite happy by myself, I mean, it's been that way since forever. And it's not the fact that I feel unloved or whatever, because to be honest, I couldn't give a shit, perhaps a big reason why I am single.

What I really dislike about today is that it's the one day a year that points out how increadibly sad my life is at points. The worst thing used to be getting presents and cards off my dad, a blatent pity vote.



But I mean it's sort of in his contract to love me, I am his only daughter after all, so getting stuff off my dad has become normal and I sort of expect it now.

But, my life officially took a desperate turn when I woke this morning to open a card, now wait for this, from my CAT.

Now I wish to make clear I don't own a genius animal, it was simply written by my mother, who then proceeded to torture poor Snowball into making a rather smudged and not very clear paw print at the bottom. But the scariest thing, it was made out to MUM.

So, I feel my life has finally took a turn where even my parents and perhaps maybe even the cat herself, are taking pity in my lack of Valentines action. Even to the point where they feel the need to refer to my cat as my CHILD in order to make me feel better.

I mean, it's bad enough I get weekly, sometimes even daily grief off particular friends in my life (you know who you are) but for my mum and dad to take pity, it's a sad turn.

Oh and wait for it, because it doesn't end there, yes, I can actually get more sad, who would have thought it. Because I was also informed that I am to spend a Valentine's meal with, my mum and dad. And don't go 'awww'.

Now, I love the old rents to pieces, but this does not mean I wish to play third wheel to their romantic meal. And I know it's serious, because they're setting the table, and the table only gets pulled out at Christmas, when relatives we thought were dead appear and when and if, the Queen would decide to decend upon the Big W.
And to be honest, I'm surprised I've not been left on the couch, because as anyone who knows me will tell you, I'm about as romantic as the grim reaper.

So, anyone, anywhere, do help and please say I'm not the only sad focker gatecrashing their parents Valentine's Day?? Please....?

Listening To: The GO! Team - Huddle Formation

Morning!

Right, so it's rather early in the morning, nearly 2 in fact. And no I'm not drunk and no I've not been out (I'm as shocked as anyone to be fair). But my blog is born and I wanted to post something to make the page look a bit more loved!

So, to start us off I best try and explain what I'm doing here! I've created this as a sort of diary, to basically write about the random rubbish that happens to me that makes me laugh and smile and such. (Hopefully) There's gunna be music, comedy and just general student rubbish so hopefully everyone can relate

Anyways, stick around, follow me and join in the fun!

Love Me & Snowball (my cat)
x x x

Listening to: Gary Go - Wonderful