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