Whilst I am in a happy relationship with a handsome man who is celebrating February 14th in the best way possible (with a packet of 50 dumplings and home-made dipping sauces because Gyoza is so good), I wanted to take a minute to appreciate all my gal pals.

It's the day for celebrating love, and our girlfriends are so special to us. They're with us through all our ups and downs and support us through things no man could stand to do. So I'm taking a minute to thank some special girls, some are new friends, some are old, some are distant and some are close. But today is about love and I wanted to take a minute to say thank you and I love you to the following girls, partly for the following reasons.


1. Amy, for assuring me my boobs are not abnormal, and for not hating me when I got drunk and cried at your dad's wedding. Also for letting me stay with you when my mam kicked me out that time even though I had a puppy and he was pooping everywhere.

2. Abi, for always inviting me to things even though I usually flake because of my anxiety and for standing up for me when that girl with fake boobs keyed my car at school.

3. Daisy, for making me pee my pants with laughter always, even when I'm mad at Steven, by offering plans to 'spike his shower gel with ketamine.' Also for spooning me when we take naps and for telling me when my ex was shagging someone else.

4. Paige, for allowing me to live my best single life vicariously through your sordid Tinder tales until you found your man. And for always being up for a Wine Wednesday.

5. Amber, for always keeping me grounded and for being my right-hand-gal at viscous Sample Sales.  Also your shopping advice is the best and I would probably be richer but sadder without it.

6. April, for always going for a drink during hard times and for your expressive facial movements, which make every story you tell 10000x better than anything else. Also for eating so much junk with Amber and I. Also for ordering that huge platter the other day and not giving a fuck because it was great.

7.  Jess, for always being on the end of the phone to listen to my many breakdowns and for keeping my lady garden in check whilst at university. Also for forcing me to go surfing that time - I won't ever repeat it but I don't regret it. 

8. Gina, for being my members club partner in crime, for giving me all the gossip on Ed Westwick and any other celebrities from your PR circuit and for getting drunk with my parents randomly that time.

9. Orianne, for helping me find a new job, for constantly updating me on your love life, for always being up for a girls night and for generally keeping me sane and always being there to listen and give solid (sassy) advice.

10. Jordan, for always making the time to see me when you're back from Aus, and updating me on your love life because it's my favourite. Also for being so sassy at uni. And for letting me live with you that time in Leyton even though your flatmates were psychos.

I could go on forever with more amazing ladies and all my thanks and love. But 10 was a nice even number so I stopped. I hope you all have the best Vday ever. XXX MWAH


This weekend marked Steven's 29th birthday. It was spent with copious amounts of alcohol and sweets which we ate until we felt sick. We were essentially regressing. There was a Colin the Caterpillar cake and everything.

I got an email as well - an email from myself which I sent on his birthday two years ago. I didn't open it because I was scared that all the things inside it which I would have hoped for myself two years ago are absolutely not going to have come true. I'm going to write another one today for five years time, because if I'm any worse off in five years than I am today then something has gone seriously wrong.

I think I need to tackle my fears of failure so I'm going to read the letter. 
*deep breathe.*

Well, it actually wasn't that bad at all! In fact, it was a little funny. When I wrote it I was at Miss Selfridge, and was hoping I was a 'lady of leisure' now. Not far off, though perhaps not by choice! I had hoped to have finished my book, which although I am far off from, I have made good progress in the last few moths. (All this extra time being unemployed comes in handy.)

I hoped to have a ring on my finger, which I don't, but Steven and I are in the best place since we started dating following a rocky patch and the end of last year, and we're stronger than ever. We're both so happy, and that's the most important thing.

I'm at the salary bracket that I hoped to be at, which is great, and I even have holidays booked which I reminded myself to organise. 

The big sign off read, 'Also hope you're still going to the gym a lot. If not, get off your lazy ass and get exercising, I can't be dealing with having to be fat as well as miserable in the future.'

Well, I'm not, but I'm going to get off my ass and work out today because it's what I wanted for myself two years ago and the only person I'm letting down is me. Ya fuckin' hippo.

If there's one thing I hate, it's selfishness. To clarify, I define selfish behavior as doing something to benefit yourself without any consideration or care for how it may affect other people. I see a lot of selfish-ass behavior on the tube during rush-hour, and I wanted to make a guide for anyone who may not realise they're behaving like an utter bellend.

So, without further adieu, how to not be an asshole on the tube in rush hour.

1. Take your bag off your crusty-ass back.
Once removed, hold it at knee level. If you use your brain for two seconds you would acknowledge that legs are generally skinnier than the human torso, ergo there is more free space down there for your bang to hang freely without taking up space another person could take.

2. Don't put your fucking bag on the floor.
If you do, it's taking up feet space and means people have to play tetris to avoid stumbling on your bag, which they 99% likely will not see anyway because it's too packed to see the floor. Also, arseholes like me will make a point of purposefully stamping on your bag to passive aggressively teach you a lesson, and mumble 'sorry I didn't see it', even though I knew it was there and was just pissed off I had to stand like a pelican so you could rest your fingers for three stops.

3. Get off the carriage if you're anywhere near the door.
If you are standing right by/in front of the door, step off the damn carriage to let everyone who needs to get off, off. I assure you, you will be the first person let back on the carriage when everyone is safely off, but you are holding everyone up making them manouver around you like a fucking herpes carrier because you're too stubborn to get off for two seconds.

4. Stop reading your book.
If it's so packed that someone has to have their face in an armpit, lower your arms and put the sodding book down, because it's taking up everyone's space and t always ends up that there's 4 people so crammed they cannot move or breathe whilst three people around them leisurely extend their arms out to hold their crappy romance novel without a care.

5. Don't eat smelly food.
Also, wear deodorant and brush your teeth. I have been stuck underneath the cavernous hole of someone's armpit which smelt like old fart before, and it all could have been avoided had he heard of Nivea.

6. Move up the carriage.
 Headphones aren't an excuse. I understand where the angry guy in a suit screaming 'move down!' is coming from when there's 30 people packed like sardines by the door whilst there are four people doing yoga along the isle because they can't be bothered (and pretend not to notice) the need for space from everyone else. How people can stand there and pretend to be oblivious to the discomfort of people five steps from them which they could aid is beyond me.




Just to run through this all again real quick in case anyone CBA reading the entire post:
Take the fucking backpack off, hold it - don't put it on the floor. Step off to let other people off, don't read books, eat stinky shit, spread out at leisure in the isles and make sure all your orifices and sweat glands are minty fresh.

Thanks.



The other day at work we were scanning competitor instagram accounts and an onslaught of selfie disapproval began. The word 'conceited' was used before I awkwardly announced I was a big fan of a selfie and everyone should stop being so judgemental. The conversation moved away and it got me thinking - women shouldn't be ashamed or made to feel narcissistic for taking selfies.

If I put together a great outfit that doesn't look like my usual binbag attire, I want to share it with my friends. If I actually look decent and put in the effort to use the £100 worth of makeup sat in my bag, then by God I am going to document the shit out of it.

The thing about social media is people have the ability to send out a representation of themselves as they want to be seen. Sometimes it can get a bit fake, but if me taking a photo of myself in a mirror when I think I look nice to share with my friends so they know that I'm not a fucking slob, (contrary to what their eyes would inform them every time they come to my house and I greet them with a face-full of spots, hair in a bun and wearing a tracksuit) makes me conceited, then fine - I know which representation I want to be pushing!

We should all learn to love ourselves a little more, and since when did liking your face enough to document it become a terrible thing? I don't like my face 99% of the time. Nobody does. Everyone has days where they feel self conscious, and want to hide under the duvet because their skin is saggy AF. (Or is that just my oriental genes? I don't know. I just know my skin gets really saggy some days.)

So on the days when you feel you look like a rockstar, take a pic, and share it. Because girls like me will see it and double tap it, because I like the fact you're unashamedly selfie-ing. You do your thing boo, love yourself and never be ashamed.

GTG now, gonna go take a selfie!
xx

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