I can't live without my iPhone

"I can't live without my iPhone". The phrase that people are too afraid to say because they get so much stick for it. I can't live without my iPhone and I'm not afraid to admit it.

The majority of people from my parents' generation or older just don't get this obsession with technology: they even frown upon it. I'll tell you oldies why: it has always been there. We've grown up with the ability to find any bizarre nugget of information out with a click of a finger, get a message to someone instantaneously, press a button and get something shipped to your home. We've never been without it, so obviously we're going to be reliant on it.

We're not going to refrain from using technology just because you old folks did it a much more complex way back in your day. "Back in my day we'd have to go to the library and pull out an encyclopaedia to find out that information", "we had to meet up face to face or use the telephone and actually speak to each other". Alright nice one, give yourself a pat on the back. I'm sure if they had the opportunity to be able to Google or FaceTime someone, they definitely wouldn't say no. 

And as for the whole "it makes you young 'uns antisocial" thing, if, as a child, my grandfather had an X-Box One put in front of him with these amazing games and graphics, he definitely wouldn't turn that down for a hoop and a stick or whatever they played with. If anything, technology makes us more sociable. My parents have moaned at me for being constantly on my phone and being 'unsociable'. But I wasn't, I was socialising with my friends. Sorry I don't care about your documentary about steam trains.

As a self-confessed iPhone addict, I want to emphasise the point that I am not materialistic. I don't just love it because it cost (my mum) a shit tonne of money. I love the fact I can do pretty much anything on it. I don't wear designer clothes, I don't give a shit if my bag cost less than someone else's, I am simply addicted to my phone cause it got mad skillz bruh. 

Of course there are those little spoilt 13 year olds who will cry as soon as a new iPhone comes out because there's isn't the newest. Even though the only thing they use it for is to post shockingly inappropriate selfies and post "like and I'll say who's pretty" statuses on Facebook. But I'm excluding those little shits from all this. I also need to get rid of the 13 year olds off my Facebook really...

Unbelievably settled in

Now the first few weeks are done I am feeling so much more confident and happy here in Leeds. In fact, I absolutely fucking love it! And I feel like I am actually sleeping in my own bed now!

I have been SO busy but I have SO many things I need to write about so I will get to it next week!

I'm in a catch 22 here because I love writing, but when I'm happy I tend to write less because I'm out being a happy little nutcase, but when I seem to write more I'm not as happy.

University homesickness

I've been away from home for about two weeks now and the homesickness is kicking in. But the thing about this 'homesickness' is that I'm not missing home per se. I'm missing stability and familiarity that I had when I was back home.

As I went to uni last year and dropped out, all my friends are in their second year of university now, whereas I'm a fresher again. So this means I'm at the stage where I don't really know anybody, I don't exactly know my way around; it's all brand new. Although this is an amazing, exciting time and although I know everyone else is feeling like this, I still feel like a little lost sheep. I'm at the age, or maturity level or whatever, where I don't feel like an actual fresher. All of my friends have their solid friendship groups at uni, they have jobs, everything's sorted. I like stability. At home I had my long term boyfriend, my family and friends, my job. Now I have none of that on my doorstep.

As much as I love partying and the freshers lifestyle, I'm also looking forward to it being halfway into the year; when I'm settled, I know what I'm doing, and that my shitty little student flat feels a bit more like home.

1.5 weeks living away

I've been moved into my university accommodation for about a week and a half and here is how I am getting on.

I wasn't actually living at home before I moved to Leeds for uni. I was pretty much living with my boyfriend, Josh, at his parents house. I had all of my clothes and make up there. I even had a toothbrush, a razor and tampons there. That definitely means I made it- tampons! I saw my mum and dad now and then but I was almost 20, I didn't feel the need to see them everyday. Therefore I'm not homesick nor do I miss my parents that much. The one thing that I cannot cope with is not seeing Josh. I'm Joshsick. The worst thing is I have been with him the majority of this week. He lives in Sheffield for uni, which is about an hour away, so I've been to his twice and he's been to mine. And I miss him already.  When I first moved away to Chester, me and Josh were nowhere near as close as we are now. I missed my parents probably more than I did him. But now I feel pathetic. I want to be a strong independent young woman who can stand on her own two feet yet somehow I cannot bear to not be around him.

The fact I have no parents around doesn't concern me as I wasn't really living at home before I moved. I know how to take care of myself. I've avoided doing any laundry thus far- I know it hasn't been long but I seem to have gone through a lot of pants. I also appear to have forgotten all of my socks. So I'm probably going to just have to buy new ones instead of washing because the cost to use the washing machine and dryer is complete extortion. Really, a joke.

Fresher's week is obviously a time to get absolutely trollied with a load of strangers while finding out how much of a slut your flatmate is in "Never Have I Ever...". So obviously I have done that. Last night I managed to stumble into bed, get halfway through the process of setting my alarm and then fall fast asleep. I woke up this morning ten minutes after the ID check enrolment drop in session had FINISHED. Fab start really. But my alarm is now set for tomorrow and I'm ready.

University: attempt 2

I am so disappointed in myself. I have been too busy to even open up my laptop, let alone think about writing a blog post. I have been constantly working at one of the fancy, well hidden restaurants in Hull, and if I've ever not been at work I have been spending as much time as I can with my boyfriend before we part for our lives in separate cities.

But here I am. Finally at uni. Again. Wow.

Surely the fact I've already experienced university life would make me a lot less nervous at the idea of starting again? Nowhere near. In fact it completely terrifies me. I went once and hated  it. This is my last chance and I have to get it right this time. I do not want to have another bad experience, I do not want my passion for something to be driven out of me. Most of all, I don't want to let my parents down. I dropped out of my last uni. I was a d r o p o u t. Imagine my mum having to explain my situation to an old relative she was having a little catch up with. Imagine how many times she'll have wanted to just say "Aw yeah she's doing really well" and let the conversation pass over.

No, not this time. This is the time I'm going to get it right. Last year did lead me in the right direction, I just took a detour on the way. And I will look back and think it was a good thing. It has made me determined to really grab this year by the balls and make it work. I'm going to work as hard as I possibly can, make as many memories and friends as I possibly can and actually give my parents something to be proud of. Yes Mum, you tell Jane from work how well I'm doing and actually mean it.

British foods you HAVE to try

I'm from Yorkshire, the best county in England some may say...and those who don't, well they're just wrong. So, I am going to admit that I haven't tried some of the famous delicacies of other counties but if I had, they may well have made it to my list.

The Yorkshire Pudding. This is an obvious one, or maybe that's because I'm a Yorkshire girl. Yorkshire puddings are like a dough/pastry kind of thing made out of batter. Wow, I don't even know what they are but they are amazing. You have them on roast dinners with meat and vegetables and gravy. SO MUCH GRAVY. The best thing is: you don't have to be from Yorkshire to have one. People all over Britain eat them because, as lovely Yorkshire folk, we love to share our traditions in order to bring joy to the world. 

Also, in addition to this, Toad in the Hole is a glorious meal which I'm assuming is British, which is basically sausages in a giant Yorkshire pud, obviously accompanied by lashings of gravy, and usually veg too.

In the same kind of region I must mention the sausage roll. A sausage roll is basically a sausage, in a flaky pastry. There is probably a name for flaky pastry but I'm no expert. If you're in the UK and want sausage rolls, Cooplands is the place to be...I think that's only up north, but seriously, isn't that the best place to be? (Hint: yes)

Do you get cheese straws anywhere apart from Britain too? Maybe. But these are amazing, just cheesy sticks of pastry. Little swords of heartburn but my God they are delicious.

CRISPS - yes I know Britain isn't the only place you can find crisps or potato chips, HOWEVER, we have the best kinds. Monster Munch, Skips, Frazzles, Space Raiders. I live for this shit.

Some may say that these are crisps...some may say that these are little sticks of Hell...TWIGLETS.

I don't really know what I would categorise these as, but they are worth a try...you will love them or hate them. I've yet to meet someone who is indifferent towards Twiglets. I heard they taste like Marmite (if you've never had that you should you might be missing out), which explains the whole love it or hate it thing, but I've never actually tasted Marmite so I wouldn't know. Another person said Twiglets reminded them of soy sauce...I don't know, maybe.

Fizzy drinks/pop/soda, whatever you want to call it...again we have some hidden gems. Vimto, despite it being an anagram of 'vomit', it is absolutely beautiful, imagine the nicest, sweetest fruit punch, and probably some really tasty additives, let's be realistic, and that is Vimto. Irn Bru (English people pronounce this like Iron Brew) is a MUST! Famously Scottish, this divine beverage is like no other. I honestly could not tell you what this tastes of but all I can say is you should try it.

There is also an amazing range of Vimto flavoured sweets, you've got fizzy laces, bon bons, lollipops, chewy sweets, all in the beautiful flavour of Vimto. *heart eyes emoji*

                          

It is the most stereotypical thing about England: tea. Of course, we needn't mention it. But us Brits, when we have a cup of tea, all though for the majority, there are many cups of tea in a day, each and every cup of tea is special, and it is always a special and joyous occasion to sit down with a nice cuppa. So this is why biscuits are SO IMPORTANT. If you have shitty biscuits to go with your brew, it's a waste of tea really. You need to enjoy it. So here are a few biscuits you should try if you get the chance: custard creams and bourbons: classics loved by everyone, Jammie Dodgers and Party Rings, less sophisticated but delicious nonetheless, McVitie's (the rulers of biscuits) Hobnobs and Digestives...need I go on? My tip: EAT ALL THE BISCUITS.

This is an ongoing debate which I think was clearly seen as one of Britain's more paramount of issues, so much so that it was taken to court: The McVitie's Jaffa Cake. Is it a biscuit or a cake? After all it is a Jaffa Cake. These, to me, are not biscuits. They have a cake base, with a tangy orange jelly centre and have a top layer of chocolate. (For the record they are actually classified as a cake)

In the same vain...someone you must be aware of is Mr Kipling. I believe Mr Kipling is in fact fictional and it is the brand name but my God I have never eaten anything more incredible than a Mr Kipling Angel Slice. It's not a lie, Angel Slices were sent from heaven. It's basically sponge cake with vanilla icing...but it is so much more than that. I think this is the one British item I feel that everyone in the world should have a try of.

Personally, I think that you find better sweets/candy in the States, but I definitely think Britain does well for chocolate. The Crunchie and the Double Decker; two of my favourite chocolate bars, both made by Cadbury's. Crunchie bars are honeycomb coated with chocolate, and a Double Decker is kind of like soft nougat with a biscuity base, again coated in chocolate. And yet again, the description of these does not do it justice. I just wish the internet would be like those walls on Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, you know, the wallpaper where they lick it and "the snozberries taste like snozberries!"

Of course, you can't knock the British sweet collection though. Wham bars, despite giving me tooth ache just thinking about those sticky cavity inducing bars of lusciousness, they are a sweet that takes me back to my childhood. Sherbet Fountains are another classic: a liquorice stick you dip in a lemony sherbet. (I received a box about 100 Sherbet Fountains as a gift once, it was amazing. In fact I also received a cardboard box full of Space Raiders, the crisps I mentioned earlier)

Honestly, I could go on and on, and I know there are many that I will have missed out, so please if you think of any do let me know!

Cultural appropriation

Okay so after the last few Coachella's and the events of celebrities being slammed for the inappropriate use of sacred cultural symbols, we are aware of what is known as 'cultural appropriation'.

Of course we know that we shouldn't prance around in Native American headdresses, or sexualise the sacred clothing of a religion and so on, but is this going a little too far?

With that, I am not saying people shouldn't protect their cultures and I'm also not saying that calling someone out for cultural appropriation is wrong. What I am saying is that you can't go crazy at someone for sporting a certain item that related to a really specific group of people that they may never have heard of, not due to ignorance, but due to the fact they've just never heard of this small group of people that were around thousands of years ago? It can happen.

You can't expect that everyone knows the ins and outs of the history of every society, culture or religion. Someone could paint their nails in a pattern they've just come up with, out of the blue. But coincidentally, it could be the same or similar to a pattern used by a small religion or culture that was around once. Don't freak out at them.

Yes, we need to be aware of these issues, we need to be sensitive towards other cultures and we need to protect and honour sacred elements of cultures, but we can't be over the top about it.

Additional thought: if I wear a kimono at the beach to go over my bikini because it is useful and ideal for that kind of situation is that cultural appropriation? I'm not saying anything to change the origins, I'm not talking rubbish that I don't actually know about the culture. I mean it's not like living in England, a cold, rainy country, we would have any traditional garments for a beach, so to what extent can I use a kimono without it being cultural appropriation?

Period thoughts

UGH BRILLIANT my pretty underwear is ruined




I NEED TO EAT EVERYTHING IN SIGHT



Where is the food? WHERE IS THE FOOD? BRING ME ALL OF THE CAKES



I wanted to have sex this weekend...



WHY WAS I BORN A WOMAN WITH OVARIES THAT HATE ME



I LOOK DISGUSTING I AM SO FAT



I can't move



OUCH FUCKING OUCH



Should I risk wearing white jeans? Oh I'll be fine...I think



I'm SO horny



Wow I'm in such a great mood I- OH GREAT I DROPPED A SPOON I HATE THE WORLD



This movie is so sad




Ooh, do I smell cookies?



Nope, okay, I guess I'll have to make some then



IF I CAN ACTUALLY STAND WITH THIS EXCRUCIATING PAIN



THIS SHIT NEVER ENDS!!!



Oh great I need more tampons



Why do I pay VAT on tampons? I didn't choose the period life YOU THINK THIS IS A LUXURY?



Surely it's not that bad? You're being over dramatic, try getting kicked in the nuts!



Ugh, I know why it's called MENstruation




Wow. Finally. It's over. I did it. WOMEN ARE THE GREATER SPECIES.

Going purple

In this day and age I'm a bit of an anomaly, I've never properly dyed my hair. I dip-dyed the ends aqua/teal when I was 16 but that's it. I've been thinking about dying my hair for a while but I'm the most indecisive person in the world and haven't been able to decide on a colour. That's  also why I've never gotten a tattoo.

BUT I've decided to go from dark brown to...

 

So I'll be going blonde then having lilac toner put on. The hairdresser said I can do it in two sittings but that means I'll have to walk around blonde, in which case I'd look like a fucking idiot because I'm really dark haired and have a dark skin tone. So, I'm having it done in one sitting which means 5 hours in the salon woo. But at least I won't be going around looking like a drag act.

I'll be getting it done some time next month. I'm just hoping I'll be allowed it for work. I'm only a waitress so surely it wouldn't be a problem.

I'M SO EXCITED TO BE A MERMAID.

I HATE EVERYTHING RANT

Okay so today I am in a really fucking foul mood and I know that after I've ranted anyone who sees this will pull out the starving kids in Africa card which pisses me off even more. "Why are you down? You have no reason to complain. You have food and roof over your head, that's more than a lot of people have". Yes okay but does that mean I should be ecstatic about not having a job because the one job in this city with no jobs I don't start until next month? Having no money so scrimping off my family? Being back home while all of my friends are at university? Having a shit load of money that needs paying off that I CAN'T PHYSICALLY PAY OFF BECAUSE I HAVE NO MONEY. I've also had to cancel my gym membership and they're trying to track me down for money. I'm 19.

So what really has triggered all this anger to evolve into a rant on here is the fact that my shitty iPhone (my mum pays the bill and she's cancelling that soon so don't use that against me) fell off my bed. The bed is a normal bed, like a foot and a half high maybe, I don't know. But my phone fell off the side of that and obviously because iPhones are so fucking shitty and fragile that the screen has completely broken. It hasn't just got a crack in it- it has gone black and green. So I can't even use it at all. And I need my phone, for getting in touch with my boss, and to call the bank to get a fucking overdraft. It's going to cost me £40-£50 to get it replaced. I don't know whether that seems a lot to anyone else, or whether it seems cheap for an iPhone screen replacement but I don't have that fucking money.

I just hate how my friends are driving around in their new cars their parents have bought for them, getting given money from their parents, have good part time jobs because of who they know. I've never had any of that. The last time I went on holiday with my parents was six years ago. You think my family can afford to help me out? "Oh why don't you take your driving lessons Jodie?" BECAUSE I CAN'T AFFORD IT, MY MUM CAN'T AFFORD IT AND MY DAD CANT FUCKING AFFORD IT. It's one of my best friends' birthdays soon and I can't afford that either. I need to get her a gift AND go on a night out because she's coming home from uni especially to go out for her birthday. Oh my God and I just remembered my mum is making me go halves with her for my new bed and matress because I'm currently sleeping on a cheapo bed that I've had six years.

I hate everything.

The Education System

First of all let me just clear up the fact that I do not agree with those who say "when am I ever going to need the Pythagorean theorem in my life omg".

1) it shows academic capabilities which are examined in order to work out if you're right for certain educational and career routes, and to see if you're right for certain colleges and universities.

2) it provides a basis for those who want to go into that field of study.

So I do agree that the things currently being taught in schools, should continue to be taught.

A problem that really sticks in my mind with education system that I have experienced personally, is the way I learnt things. It felt like I learnt topics purely for the exams. For the school that is essentially why you learn things, for their reputations which are based upon grades and exam scores. History and science are two things that stick in my mind. I loved history and I chose it as an A Level. At GCSE we did an exam on the Isreali/Palestine conflict. Brilliant thing to look at; it's relevant and modern. I learnt the ins and outs, the PLO, HAMAS etc. I knew it. But once I walked out of that exam hall, everything I knew just dispersed from my memory. We learnt it for an exam. We were sat there revising and revising, memorising treaties and dates and events so intensely it seems as though, to me, that I took it in on the surface, regurgitated the facts but they never absorbed.

Another issue I have which is commonly picked up on is the fact we don't learn a lot of important life skills at school. About contracts, debt, the law, human rights, racism, sexism, taxes, the government, government party policies, the list could go on. Being 18 and able to vote when maybe you haven't left school/college (depending on where you are in the world and what college means etc) and not being fully aware of any parties and policies. Should this be the responsibility of the school? Or if you're old enough to vote and care about voting would you look into it yourself? Maybe that's the case with this example, however, concepts such as sexism in the workplace, laws, prison, these things should be taught. Some things are picked up throughout life, my mother didn't get taught about taxes and how to raise a child and she does both of those things perfectly well. But I do think schools need to think about EDUCATING students rather than focusing solely on grades. I got good GCSEs and I'm not going to lie, I'm pretty thick, I don't feel educated.

In year 11 and both years of sixth form (if you're in America then that's like 16-18 I think) I would come home from school, get through the door and cry. I didn't get bullied, I had a great group of friends, I wasn't fat or acne ridden, I had no reason to cry so it would seem. But the pressure of school and college really got to me, it was all "look at this chart, this is where you're at is that ok good if not go to revision classes". I was sick of looking at fucking statistics and being pushed so hard by teachers who hated their jobs  just so they had a nice little line graph to show their superiors. In writing it is pretty hard to explain what made me so depressed. You'll have to speak to other current students to find that one out, I've repressed that shit. But it is disturbing how many people DREAD school. It's not right, something needs fixing.

Why am I going to uni?

Why the hell am I going to university? I'm doing a degree in journalism, and I'm pretty average to get anywhere in that field. It's the only thing I'm remotely interested in. I'm probably going to end up in a job that doesn't even require a degree yet still have a fuckload of debt hanging over my head.

The reason I am going to university is because it's the done thing. It's what everyone does. It's what's expected. I was a top set kid so the concept of going to university was already drilled into me from a pretty young age. We weren't allowed to attend the workshops about going into full time work or apprenticeships. We had to go to the university talks. Because that's the bracket I fell into.

My mum and dad didn't go to university but they expected me to. I was overly praised in primary school and made out to be a genius because I went to a school full of brain-dead pieces of shit. Literally, I was the smartest in the school. I got to high school and was put in the very top set and I was shocked at how clever everyone was. To be fair I did okay in my GCSEs, As and Bs. I did so well in my science coursework and first exam that I only needed an E in Biology, Chemistry and Physics to get a B. And that's what I did. I don't know how that happened because I couldn't tell you a thing about any of those subjects. I loved English, and I loved my teacher and she loved me. Probably because I was such a kiss ass. So thanks to her, I won an award for English. This made me seem even more intelligent. I'm fucking not. This made my school and parents think I was really clever and it would be a waste if I didn't go to uni. I always felt undeserving of their praises because I thought I just got lucky throughout it all.

My first year of A Levels went well. A, B, C, C in English Language, Religion, French and History. My second year I left with B, C, C. Average. I got to uni, hated it, left and now I'm going back in September.

I have no fucking idea what I want to do with my life.

Lush Job Update

Sad news! I didn't get the job!
I was up against a lot of people, some who were a lot more theatrical (drama students obviously), so I wasn't that surprised when I didn't get it.

The manager was so lovely about it though, she called to let me know and to give me some feedback. She said that I was great in the interview but on the shop floor I wasn't interacting with customers enough. This kind of surprised me because I spoke to every single customer that came in the store, some more than once, having a laugh with them and what not but apparently I need to be more full on. I know they're really enthusiastic in Lush but I was surprised that they wanted me to be more full on than I was already being as I hadn't had proper training. I mean I did some demos and made some sales within my half hour trial but I guess if I wasn't right for the position I can't really complain

I wouldn't enjoy the job if I had to act any more of a twat jumping and dancing in people's faces who really don't appreciate it, you know what I mean. I would've enjoyed it if I got the job and didn't have to be even more full on. I know that's Lush's thing and I don't really mind it when I'm shopping in there but when I'm being observed by staff going in people's faces who clearly are not enjoying it it's very different.

Not getting this job means I don't get 50% discount :( but it also means I can get more hours at my other job. So no real loss really.

My Lush Trial

My trial shift at Lush was today! I really enjoyed myself and had so much fun.

I got there a little early so I just wandered around the shop until they called me down. They photocopied my passport and explained that I'll be shown how to do demos and stuff by the other girls. So a lovely supervisor showed me where the demo bars and bombs where and send sent me on my way.

I had to blag my way through helping a man with buying a hand cream for his mum, while the supervisor was right next to me:( but I managed to sell him the Charity Pot in the end yay!

I spoke to the customers, helped them with choosing certain products and did a bath bomb demo and before I knew it my half an hour was over! They called me down to the back for a quick interview. The questions were pretty generic, there was only one that was a bit different. For that I was given a book of the new Lush make up and told me to choose a lipstick name that would describe working at Lush. 

They then told me they'd be in touch either way, tomorrow evening so I have to wait until then to find out if I was successful!!

I feel a bit confident but they were trialling like 20 people so there's a large competition. I did everything I could and I was completely myself and that's all I could do so, fingers crossed!

My Lush group interview

So I've just got in from my Lush group interview. I had a look on a few people's blogs to see how they generally go, none of them were exactly the same but I knew what to roughly expect. But I'll tell you how mine went.

I'll start at the beginning. I was out shopping in my local Lush store and saw they had a vacancy posted in the window and behind the till asking for a CV/résumé and cover letter. I chatted to the girl about the position for a bit then went home, spruced up my CV and wrote a cover letter and sent it off.

On the closing date for applications (Monday) I received a call saying I was invited to a group interview on the Thursday. I was told to bring my passport or birth certificate and my favourite thing. "Thing" is a bit of a general word I thought, so it's my chance to pick something fun. The girl who phoned specified it didn't have to be a Lush product, which I wouldn't have picked anyway, don't want to kiss arse too much.

I didn't ask the dress code but I thought, I know group interviews and I know Lush, so I wore a burn orange short sleeved collared blouse with white polka dots, a dark blue jumper over the top and a black skirt and tights. I was a bit dubious about make up but I went with it wore red lipstick anyway💁.

So I went to my interview, 6pm. There were a few of us waiting outside the store and there was already a group of about 10 in there for a previous session. There were about 10 of us (two boys, the rest girls) and we were told that there was another group of the same size after us. We got in, told our name, availability and had a photo taken. There were a lot of drama students I could tell and everyone was quite quirky and out there which I was expecting. 

We had a little talk from the manager, who was lovely, telling us about the company and the position etc then came the bit about us. We were shown a demonstration of a bubble bar then we had a few minutes to pick one of our own and demo it in front of everyone. I hadn't picked one by the time they aller us back so I grabbed one, had a quick look in the magazine and just blagged my way through. I picked one of the macaroon bubble bars. I felt like I spoke for longer than everyone else but I focussed a lot on the ingredients and the way it felt. I did feel a bit nervous as everyone was looking at me but I went with it and thought I did an okay job.

Next we had to stand in a circle and present our "favourite thing". Everyone's was pretty normal, lucky paintbrushes, teddies, photos. Mine was this...

The elfy clogg slippers I bought from Amsterdam. I said they represent the fact I love to travel, and they're cute and fun. I made a joke that I'm not materialistic so these would be what I'd save in a fire. They seemed to like that. It wasn't very deep or personal so I thought that might have not been as good as the rest.

So it was time to leave and they said they'd only ring if we were successful. They'd ring offering a trial shift and a small interview, but I wasn't expecting a call as I thought there were stronger candidates. But as I was writing this, post I got a phone call OFFERING ME A TRIAL ON FRIDAY!

I couldn't believe it they rang me like straight after the final interviews! So I have my 30 minute shop floor trial on Friday and a 15 minute interview, I'll post on Friday how I get on!

Living at home vs Living on your own

Moving out. Buying new décor, packing your stuff, squeezing it into the car. It’s one of the most stressful yet exciting times. I love living away from my parents but obviously there are factors that would keep me living with Mummy and Daddy dearest. Let's see...

Pros of living at home

·         Less responsibilities

When living at home, you don’t need to worry about running out of milk or detergent or toilet roll- that’s not your job.

·         Home comforts

Those little things like your mum bringing you a cup of tea when you’re ill, or little family traditions. They’re what you tend to miss.

·         No housemates

Like many people my age, nobody moves out on their very own straight away, there are housemates.  And that means new annoying habits to get used to. It’s okay when it’s your family, you love them unconditionally and you’re used to the annoying things they do. I’m not used to having someone barging in at 5am absolutely inebriated, that’s what I do. It’s only okay when I do that.

·         Nicer house

There’s no denying it; student houses are vile. No matter how nice they start off, they will end up completely inhabitable. Students don’t care about anything. And the landlords don’t care that much either. My parents’ house is so cosy and warm and generally nice, nothing can beat that.

·         The cost

Living with your parents is inevitably cheaper than living on your own. Food shopping, bills, everything is paid for, you just have to worry about paying your keep, and if your parents are generous, that won’t be much at all.

·         It can get kind of lonely

With everyone’s different schedules, and the fact these people aren’t your family, it means you can feel a bit lonely at times. Especially if you’re going through a shitty time, there’s nothing you want more than an encouraging hug from your mum or dad and when that’s not there, it can be a bit crap.

Pros of living on your own

·         The independence

Oh Lord the independence. When I first moved out I felt like a baby bird leaving the nest and becoming a freakin strong as hell independent bird flying around the skies and buying as many pop tarts as it wants.

·         NO RULES

I know this makes me sound like a child, but the fact I wouldn’t have my mother moaning in my ear about not taking my plate out immediately after I had my last forkful was just lovely. Although I couldn’t really be told what to do as an adult living at home, it didn’t mean it wasn’t the end of complaining about the volume of my music, my intake of alcohol, the “wasted” money on Lush products.

·         Doing my own laundry

This may not be the case for everyone, but doing my own laundry and only mine means there is no mix up with any clothes and I know where all of my clothes are at all times. At home, there’s me, my sister and my mum who all have the same leggings, tights, vests etc and there is something at least every wash that goes missing.

·         Food shopping

Although realising you are out of milk and loo roll, as I have mentioned, is one of the most irritating things, I can buy whatever food I want. I can buy the “disgusting” chilli sauce I like. I can buy ramen noodles. I can buy all of the food my mum and dad refuse to spend their money on.

·         The housemates

Although they’re annoying, you love them. They’re fun, always down for a good time and won’t tell you you’re too drunk. Living with a bunch of pals is one of the most annoying, yet most fun thing in the world. Plus there’s almost always somebody awake who will be willing to drive me to McDonalds (because I can’t drive you see cry cry).

Okay so we can see that pretty much all of my reasons for living away from home revolve around me being able to do what I want and pretty much be a disgusting human being but that is what I want at my age. I want fun. But I also want to save money. But I also want fun. But it’s always nice to have a warm, clean house. But I can buy copious amounts of Pop Tarts and drink cider at 10am if I live on my own…I think we know which side wins.

Ere mate it's Job Seeker's Allowance not dole

Okay so my previous posts have made it pretty evident that I left uni and moved back home (yes I am restarting in September). Since I moved back I have been endlessly searching for a job, obviously accompanied by hours of Netflixing which does make me seem like a bit of a dosser, but I have been applying for every single job I could find. Even a job which would require me wiping old people's arses. I don't think I was actually qualified to do that. Wow. I have also been waiting on my old boss to get back to me who said I could back to my previous job but it turns out she's ignorant and rude so there's no light at the end of that tunnel.

I honestly forgot how hard it was to get a job, a month went past and I went to "sign on" as it's called. I don't know if that's a colloquialism or the official term but I went to the Job Centre to claim Job Seeker's Allowance. Obviously any of my friends who found this out blasted me with comments about being "a doley" which unfortunately has very negative connotations. I find it really fucking horrible and bleak that someone looking for a job in this shitty economy, accepting a little bit of help from the government at a time of need gets branded as scum. I do, however, understand why singing on has such negative views. The only people claiming JSA that are ever shown in the media (mainly because most of these documentaries are made by channel 4) are always showing the drug addicted, child neglecters who live in filthy tab end infested hovels, not the people who have been made redundant or whatever, who are actively looking for a job.

Fortunately I live on the outskirts of Hull and have a different Job Centre rather than the Hull City Centre one, so it's not as bad. I've never been in myself, but my mum used to work there and laughed at the idea of me sitting in the Hull Job Centre, saying how I'd probably cry and rather have no money at all than have to go in there. Additional note: "it stinks". So thankfully, I go to the smaller, quieter annd probably more pleasant smelling one near my house. Even for a Job Centre located in a fairly respectable area, I have seen a few sights, even though I've only been in twice. The first time I went I saw a woman who had been in the paper for attacking a minor with a riding crop, and the second time a smelly man came in yelling about how his money has been stopped but he needs to go pick up his "meFadone" before he can see anyone about it. Lovely. So these are the people that Channel 4 films. The rest of the people I have seen in there are actually in there for the reason JSA was created, accepting help in SEEKING A JOB.

So no, I'm not a "doley". And I have two interviews next week so hopefully I don't have to sit in the Job Centre for much longer getting advice on how to improve my CV while pretending I didn't know this shit already.

9 Problems of Being a Naturally Lazy Person

There is no denying that I am naturally lazy. I love chilling out, watching Netflix, doing nothing. Once I am comfy nothing is going to change that, I will not move. I've come to terms with the fact I'm lazy and I don't mind, it's who I am. But obviously the word lazy gives negative connotations and it's not difficult to understand that being lazy is not one of the greater things in life. So here are some problems I've found that naturally lazy people will probably understand, if they bother reading any further than this paragraph.

 1. People thinking you’re unhygienic
Just because I like to lie in bed it doesn't mean I don’t get a shower, OK? I do shower, but I will procrastinate for a few hours. Then slob back on the sofa so it still looks as though I haven't showered. But I have, even smell my pits.

2. Having to set 29 alarms in the morning
Each of which are 5 minutes apart from the previous, because it’s just so easy to wake up, turn your alarm off and drift back into a blissful sleep. 

3. Having to lie in bed scrolling through the latest news on Twitter for half an hour before beginning to contemplate getting out of bed
For us bed lovers, getting straight up as soon as you wake up or as soon as your alarm goes off is not even a conceivable idea. I need to allow my brain to wake up before I actually try functioning. So I will set my final alarm to half an hour before I really need to get up so I can ease myself into the day.

4. Being called lazy
You know you’re lazy. You have accepted you’re lazy. But when someone else calls you it, it’s just plain hurtful.

5. Getting comfy on a bus/train journey
When you’ve just become remotely warm and comfy on public transport, chilled out, earphones in...then oh shit it's my stop next. The sudden realisation you're going to have to get off the bus or train into the freezing cold is a momentous moment of heartbreak for me as a lazy person.

6. Having so many intentions but being restricted by your naturally lazy personality
For example, planning on going for a Sunday morning jog, waking up, remembering it’s Sunday and falling back to sleep. I am so motivated before I fall to sleep, I'll make a list of all the important, constructive tasks I will do the next day. But after a few hours sleep all motivation has been lost and I can't even bring myself to look at the list and thinking about doing anything.

7. Always running lateI never leave myself enough time to get ready, especially on nights out. I’ll be chilling for ages, being so relaxed that I can never be bothered to get up and get a shower just yet, so ending up racing out the door 15 minutes late blowing my freshly painted nails because I NEVER LEAVE MYSELF ENOUGH FUCKING TIME BECAUSE I AM LAZY PIECE OF SHIT AND I WOULD HAVE LOOKED BETTER IF I STOPPED WATCHING THAT CRAPPY SOAP AND STARTED GETTING READY HALF AN HOUR EARLIER.

8. The bursts of self loathing you get for being so lazy
See #7

9. The choice between food and not moving
One of the world's major issues: food or my bed. I'm in bed watching Netflix, it's dinner time and I'm starving but I'm so comfy and warm, what do I do? So I have the mental debate with myself that goes something like this: Will the food be worth moving and going downstairs? When I get back I probably won't get comfy again. But Food. No I'll get food I'm hungry. After this episode. Maybe I'll just wait until someone offers me some.

Finally

I haven't posted anything in sooo long because the wifi has been down.

It really pisses me off the way it has ONE JOB and it can't even do that, it's 2015

Amsterdam

So I've just got back from Amsterdam!

I haven't been to that many countries but I can easily say that Amsterdam is the cutest place I have ever been.

The only downside was that most of the trip was spent on the ferry because it was the Dutch Dash from Hull to Rotterdam.

Amsterdam canals.

The first thing we did when we got there was have a Mcdonalds. Soaking up the culture straight away. But then we went to the Sexmuseum. The first thing we see as we walk in is a mannequin dressed in gimp attire. We then take about three steps forward to see moving statues of a woman giving a man a handjob accompanied by the sound of sexual moans. Upstairs was home to a load of historical things such as old plates with drawings of acts of fellatio and sodomy on them. And there was also two giant penis chairs, which were a lot taller than me, sat in a room where porn is just playing on a telly in the corner. The only thing I managed to get a photo of was this cheeky robotic man who every so often would give you a flash.

While there were people looking really serious and intrigued as if they were learning about the history of their nation, I found it particularly awkward trying to make sure I didn't look too amused or too disturbed.

Overall from this museum the main thing I did learn is that female genital shaving/waxing did not used to be very popular. At all.

Although I find giant dicks funny, I can also appreciate the architecture.

We went on to search for the Red Light District for 75 hours, which did end up finding. You've got to hand it to the women in those windows, they are gorgeous, they look airbrushed! On the way we popped into a sex shop which was nothing after seeing the giant dicks in the sexmuseum but when you realise that some of these rubber willies the size of my entire arm are actual used for sexual pleasure it is a bit freaky.

Some of the locks on the canal bridge.

After we had a look at the ladies in lingerie and the old men loitering around, deciding which one it will be today, we had a chill in the Bulldog coffee shop. Which is one of the best, chilled out places I have ever been. 10/10 would recommend.

The Bulldog coffeeshop, Amsterdam.

Of course after soaking up the rest of the culture, such as the million bikes and the cute locks of people who probably hate each other now on the bridges, I of course had to buy a tacky souvenir. But behold, this isn't a shitty ashtray or a fridge magnet...it is SLIPPERS SHAPED LIKE CLOGGS. 

They are the best things I have ever placed on my feet and I consider this a fabulous investment.

The roads were scary though. It's as though they have no rules. Everyone speeds around the street, trams and bikes everywhere, while mindless tourists meander in the way of everything. Once I get over the fear of being mowed down, I would love to ride around the streets of Amsterdam on a bike.

Neon bicycle by the canal (as if dinging your bell repeatedly isn't going to get you noticed).

To conclude, Amsterdam is my new favourite place and I will be going back there as soon as it is humanly possible. 

My father the pessimist

I don't know whether I have the right frame of mind or whether I am ridiculously stupid.

The thing is, I know I need to start being sensible with my money and taking a hold of my responsibilities but I also feel that life is too short, as horrendously cliché as that is. But seriously, life really is too short to not go crazy and do ridiculous things. I don't want my parents to make me feel guilty for wanting to make the most out of my life and my youth.

My dad is such a pessimist. He says those typical dad things like "I have to do things every day that I don't like but we have to get on with it" when I complain about something I have to do. That's fair enough, we do have to do those things but when he starts saying "life isn't about being happy it's about dealing with it". What is the point in life if we all just "deal with it"? There are many people in this world who aren't as fortunate: suffering with diseases; being tortured; being impoverished; having their lives cut short. Need I go on? And people like me only live to "deal with it"? No Dad, we don't. You might, but I don't. So I'm going to blow my money on brilliant experiences and memories and scrape by for a while, whilst you are "dealing" with being a healthy person in a well off country.

Girls' Holidays

So, I went on my first girls' Holiday last year.

I was 18, just finished my A-Levels and ready to blow off a lot of French and Philosophy induced steam. The best way to do that? Go and get stupidly inebriated off all-inclusive bars for a week.
The destination of choice: Magaluf, the home of the very imaginative chants of some pattern of the words "Maga" and "Shagger" in the tune of "No Limit" by 2 Unlimited, and, my favourite, "Maga, Maga, Maga fuckin luf".

We've all seen the documentaries: Sun, Sex and Suspicious Parents; Sun, Sea and A&E; that ridiculous one by Stacey Dooley where she slates of every aspect of Magaluf. God that annoyed me, the hour long documentary trying to persuade parents to try and stop their (adult) children from going on these holidays by throwing around statistics about rape, theft and injury and inspecting what spirits are in cocktails with names such as the "Headfucker".

Stacey Dooley being miserable while everyone else has a fab time [BBC]

Even with this horribly dangerous reputation being thrown around TV recently, it certainly does not stop us teens going, getting silly and loving every minute of it. It definitely did not put me off, and I didn't even think one of these cheap dirty holidays would be for me. I tend to hate drunken nob heads who drink so much they vomit uncontrollably, but it turns out, I am one. I also hate when I see skinny lads walking around with their shirts of looking like complete tits, they were all over and I didn't even care. Everything I hate could be here but because I have no commitments, complete freedom, my best friends, sunshine and whole lot of alcohol I would not care at all.

The holiday started when we were on the way down to the airport with out stupid "Maga 14" crop tops on with our nicknames on the back (mine was 'the gobby one' even though I lost my voice to the dreaded 'Ruskinoff cough and couldn't talk...I'll explain more about that one soon). The anticipation of what the week would bring, being away without our parents for the first time and the relief of having no more sixth form all rolled together and turned us into a gaggle of babbling, high pitched twats. And I am not ashamed one bit. Getting off the plane and feeling a massive waft of heat overcome your entire body is one of the best things about being on holiday, the novelty slightly wore off when we were looking for our transfer coach for about sixty five and a half years, but our adrenaline was so high it hardly mattered.

Sporting my compulsory (although pretty embarrassing) holiday top

The Accommodation
Some of the hotels in Magaluf do look absolutely revolting. But it's one of those holidays and you get what you pay for so it's no surprise some of the hotels looked as though you could catch something just by walking in. As our coach was buzzing around the tiny little streets of the quainter, nicer parts of Mallorca, some parts of which we must have passed 12 times going back and forth from one hotel to the next, we would go past some very dodgy looking places that you could tell were miles away from anything and we were hoping we weren't due to get off any time soon. After giving each other countless looks of terror when we'd slow down and pull up to grotty hotels, we were finally called to get off. Our hotel was gorgeous in comparison to the others, thank God! Our holiday company messed up (what did we expect from low cost holidays) and our hotels ended up getting cancelled twice. To be fair I can't slag off the company any more, they upgraded us twice to a hotel we'd have never be able to afford, and  they did so for no extra cost...so we were the lucky ones.
We were staying at the Fergus Pax which was lovely. It was secure, the staff were great and it had a sister hotel next door which we could use and it gave us the chance to meet more people. No complaints.

The view from my balcony at the Fergus Pax Hotel

All-inclusive
Hmm...all-inclusive. Just hearing those words make my liver ache. But oh my God it was fabulous...being able to drink pina coladas and "Love On The Beach"es (a much nicer version of Sex On The Beach which my friend innocently called "Love Is In The Air" the entire time) as soon as we got there until we were about to leave. It was bliss. I love alcohol. And I love it when I don't have to prepare it myself and there's an unlimited supply. The all-inclusive meant we'd have to get up for breakfast which was good because we wouldn't mong out in our rooms all day, although most days I did go for breakfast then go back to bed for a few hours. I love sleep too. Although unlimited cocktails around the pool and all you can eat for a week is easy and convenient, it did make me a massive fatty and it meant we didn't leave the hotel a great deal during the day.

My favourite food from the hotel, coconut balls and ice cream

During the day
On these kinds of holidays the days are pretty much just for sunbathing and recovering from last night's binge to prepare yourself for the messy night ahead. I only really had two main days out: the water park and the boat party. The water park was the only time I was relatively sober and it was pretty refreshing and surprisingly nobody threw up down the water slides. And the boat party was amazing. Apart from the fact I was one of the only girls drinking beer and every time I'd go to the bar the barman would say "Sangria's at the other side babe". Like fuck off you sexist twat, give me a beer and don't call me babe. But, I would say if you go on one of these holidays you HAVE to do a boat party. Even the sex games where hilarious. I mean they wouldn't have been funny if I got groped...but I avoided it so watching my friend get dry humped by a chubby virgin was priceless.

How I ended up after the boat party, I have no idea where the peach came from.

The night
Everything about the night. You go on these holidays solely for the night. And Magaluf's nightlife is great. BCM square has fun quirky bars (which we should have experienced more of), BCM club is brilliant especially when there's an event with a free bar, the MCP five club free bar thing- ace. Everything is just so good. Walking down the strip there is such a buzzing atmosphere, you can go to any bar and sit outside and have such a great time. The lucky lucky men who sell you absolute tat are hilarious, not stopping at anything to make you buy a flashing ring or fake Ray Bans and calling you "chicken nugget" as you walked past. I initially thought that was a cute term of endearment until I realised it meant "cheap white meat". It's a good job I'm not a raging feminist. I got a nice pair of "Ray Bons" for five euros for my dad off one of them anyway. Basically the nightlife is just ace and there's no other way of describing it. Apart  from messy.  I ended up throwing up a load of watermelon and rice all over the open front of a takeaway while being shooed off by the owner with a sweeping  brush and being chatted up by some really desperate boy. Yeah I don't get it either. A mixture of melon and rice projecting out of my nose and he still wanted to follow me down the strip.

                A nice wig from the lucky lucky man and a crap shot of BCM square.

The people
Everyone is on the same wavelength. Everyone is after getting pissed and having a good time so there's never anyone you don't get along with. Holidays are a time when you can go straight up to randomers when you're half naked and start having straight up banter.

Me and my
best friends
dressed as
cavegirls.                 One of the
                                guys we met
                                who had a
                                lettuce...




                                                                                

 What may seem like a sausage fest is the group
of lads from Sheffield we met, which clearly
we had to become best mates with because we're
both from Yorkshire.

This is just another group of foreign people we
met at the sister hotel. Which was fun because when certain things in the famous drinking game "Never Have I Ever" get lost in translation it can be pretty hilarious.

I also met Scarlett from Gogglebox... Yes we are best friends now.

I have probably missed SO much out but I have gone on for long enough about my love for Magaluf. Yes it is dirty, yes it is trashy, yes people vomit all over the place, but it is the best time. I would advise everyone to do one of these holidays at least once. I loved it that much I'm going ever dirtier and even trashier in August and going to get destroyed by Kavos.

As a nice final summary of Magaluf...here is a picture of a guy throwing up.