Monday
ladies
just give up. the more u try the worse it is, and you imagine its all going to be taylor swift style but instead turns out more kelis, complete with bad hair and sudden rage fits. quinn is offic finished with men. i shall turn my life from bridget jones to satc but from samantha's view (we'll skip over the whole smith period, bb got weak), and fingers crossed, eventually forget i was even in love, or, BIG HOPE, erase him from my memory completely. HAPPY FUCKING MONDAY! x
dirty martini? DIRTY BASTARD!
Saturday
kardash and roll
big day today - my fave kardashian kim is getting married! i'm sure bb hasn't eaten for weeks in prep for her nuptuals with, so no doubt a fainting fit will ensue which everyone will chalk down to emotion, with kris shoe-horning a pain au chocolat in the armenian beauty's chops before the press call.
so, who the fuck is kris humphries right? some american basketball player, who stands at 6ft 9, a fair amount taller than thumbelina kim at 5ft 2. a 6 month relationship is decades in hollywood, and she landed a gorge $2 million engagement ring, which was a design robbed from my own collection.
now, i'm not being a hater, but i reck after kourtney being settled with douchebag scott and khloe off enjoying dairy milk with lamar, kim felt the heat and would have said yes to anyone. its just lucky kris is such a babe, and also has a name beginning with k. thing is tho, with her moms and husband sharing the same name, aren't things going to be a bit warped in the bedroom? hmm.
finally, what do you get for the girl who has everything as a matrimonial gift? well, i'm guessing bb is all about remembering her roots, so let's keep it old school.
what's that? oh you didn't know it would get leaked? maybe skip the career advice from paris next time x
so, who the fuck is kris humphries right? some american basketball player, who stands at 6ft 9, a fair amount taller than thumbelina kim at 5ft 2. a 6 month relationship is decades in hollywood, and she landed a gorge $2 million engagement ring, which was a design robbed from my own collection.
now, i'm not being a hater, but i reck after kourtney being settled with douchebag scott and khloe off enjoying dairy milk with lamar, kim felt the heat and would have said yes to anyone. its just lucky kris is such a babe, and also has a name beginning with k. thing is tho, with her moms and husband sharing the same name, aren't things going to be a bit warped in the bedroom? hmm.
obvs i was invited with us being bff's, but i had an important day of staring at the wall and crying over dawson's creek, so had to decline. sniff. had i attended though, there were a few outfits in the running but this beauty below by christian lacroix would have won out. nothing says wedding chic like emulating our lady of guadalupe, and rachel zoe would die for it.
finally, what do you get for the girl who has everything as a matrimonial gift? well, i'm guessing bb is all about remembering her roots, so let's keep it old school.
what's that? oh you didn't know it would get leaked? maybe skip the career advice from paris next time x
Friday
i'd rather cut my leg off..
than date gavin henson. VOM. he's a total monotoned goon. he gets manicures. men can't chop wood and fight bears with a manicure.
as much as mens health and american tv suggests women want waxed, tanned, fit athletes, truth is i think most of us just want someone who doesn't weigh less than us. so ideally i'm looking for a 7ft rugby player to even it up . hook me up? x
as much as mens health and american tv suggests women want waxed, tanned, fit athletes, truth is i think most of us just want someone who doesn't weigh less than us. so ideally i'm looking for a 7ft rugby player to even it up . hook me up? x
old habits.
friday night, sat in watching the lowest ebbs of society compete on the rehashed celeb big bro. clueless to who most of them r tbh. why am i not out? well. hmm.
went out last night to the local bender bar, and in between downing cutprice vodka and dancing like a general knob to chart fodder, managed to get barred, mostly due to a female bouncer and me asking her if she sold recreational products. she didn't, the bathroom graffiti lied, and we were shown the door. perf!
so to console myself today, me and galpal west started drinking at approx 3pm, propping the bar up with other benefit barbies and coffin dodgers enjoying watered down spirits and cold chips. lovely.
also, went to the vag clinic yday (u can exhale, army of exes, all is fine), but west had to have liquid nitrogen sprayed on to nuke god knows what down there, i found it hilarious obvs. both of us felt we were at least owed dinner or a phone number in exchange for our violation's, but we were instead shuffled out into the grey light of day, walking home with a slight limp.
gonna watch control now, the ian curtis biopic. seeing as i'm reading rules of attraction, all i need is a clove cigarette and even bigger hair, if that's possible, and i'm in 1980. x
went out last night to the local bender bar, and in between downing cutprice vodka and dancing like a general knob to chart fodder, managed to get barred, mostly due to a female bouncer and me asking her if she sold recreational products. she didn't, the bathroom graffiti lied, and we were shown the door. perf!
so to console myself today, me and galpal west started drinking at approx 3pm, propping the bar up with other benefit barbies and coffin dodgers enjoying watered down spirits and cold chips. lovely.
also, went to the vag clinic yday (u can exhale, army of exes, all is fine), but west had to have liquid nitrogen sprayed on to nuke god knows what down there, i found it hilarious obvs. both of us felt we were at least owed dinner or a phone number in exchange for our violation's, but we were instead shuffled out into the grey light of day, walking home with a slight limp.
gonna watch control now, the ian curtis biopic. seeing as i'm reading rules of attraction, all i need is a clove cigarette and even bigger hair, if that's possible, and i'm in 1980. x
Tuesday
fuuccckk
its been 6 months since i last blogged, what is that about?! apologies to the loyal armies who rioted throughout the country, i heard ur pleas and have returned.
so whats new with you?! i finished uni, barely scraped a 2:2, which considering the ultimate bender i've been on since feb is pretty good going. met some interesting guys, dated liikkee 3? i dunno, a few anyways, it all gets a bit contorted with the amount i drink, went to possibly the best house parties, basement raves and hot-tub outings the world has ever seen, got a nose bleed in pizza hut, gave away the plotting guinea pigs and packed up my entire life in 2 days. mad few months.
am now back in the glorious midlands attempting to score some variety of full time work that allows me to continue this champagne existence, so i settled on PR, ab fab style. its gonna be a poor year, as have two interviews lined up for internships with only minimal expenses paid, but i can survive on vapour and fumes, it'll be fine. sights are set on NYC, its just gonna take a lil bit of ladder climbing to get there first.
my days are mostly filled now with watching the rachel zoe project, go watch it, its incred, and shopping. sounds fun right? i'm bored out of my tiny mind. also have a new trainer bird, i've only been once and my ass is literally rock so fingers crossed i'll look like a kardashian by next week (not khloe tho...i love you girl but u did not get the looks).
good few months for music! tyler, odd future, the return of nas, new laura marling, oh land, foster the people, washed out, the rapture, bon iver, jay and kanye......wowzers. excited for the next few months. LANA DEL RAY is my current fave, listen to 'video games', serious nostalgia.
my alcoholism is getting better, i try not to drink before 12 anymore, and stop when i go crossed eyed. small steps! i'm still a bit blue over leaving chester, my friends and my beautiful room, plus some other people i met along the way but i'm not crying anymore, and i'm somehow managing to control my desire to murder my dad when he breathes like darth vader and looks at me with insulting awe when i get an answer correct on university challenge. EVERYONE KNOWS THE PERIODIC SIGN FOR NITROGEN YOU IDIOT. cleansing breaths are the answer. its a catch 22 with how soon i go back, because i feel like i can't get over the place if i keep visiting, can't get over everything that happened there, but i miss the clear air and the way the city looks from the walls around 6pm, and not being able to walk 10 feet without seeing people you know, or wish you didn't know. i think i have to just sit tight and wait for it to pass.
the new gardener is a bit fine, sleeve and neck tattoos. i'm a sucker for controversy x
so whats new with you?! i finished uni, barely scraped a 2:2, which considering the ultimate bender i've been on since feb is pretty good going. met some interesting guys, dated liikkee 3? i dunno, a few anyways, it all gets a bit contorted with the amount i drink, went to possibly the best house parties, basement raves and hot-tub outings the world has ever seen, got a nose bleed in pizza hut, gave away the plotting guinea pigs and packed up my entire life in 2 days. mad few months.
am now back in the glorious midlands attempting to score some variety of full time work that allows me to continue this champagne existence, so i settled on PR, ab fab style. its gonna be a poor year, as have two interviews lined up for internships with only minimal expenses paid, but i can survive on vapour and fumes, it'll be fine. sights are set on NYC, its just gonna take a lil bit of ladder climbing to get there first.
my days are mostly filled now with watching the rachel zoe project, go watch it, its incred, and shopping. sounds fun right? i'm bored out of my tiny mind. also have a new trainer bird, i've only been once and my ass is literally rock so fingers crossed i'll look like a kardashian by next week (not khloe tho...i love you girl but u did not get the looks).
good few months for music! tyler, odd future, the return of nas, new laura marling, oh land, foster the people, washed out, the rapture, bon iver, jay and kanye......wowzers. excited for the next few months. LANA DEL RAY is my current fave, listen to 'video games', serious nostalgia.
my alcoholism is getting better, i try not to drink before 12 anymore, and stop when i go crossed eyed. small steps! i'm still a bit blue over leaving chester, my friends and my beautiful room, plus some other people i met along the way but i'm not crying anymore, and i'm somehow managing to control my desire to murder my dad when he breathes like darth vader and looks at me with insulting awe when i get an answer correct on university challenge. EVERYONE KNOWS THE PERIODIC SIGN FOR NITROGEN YOU IDIOT. cleansing breaths are the answer. its a catch 22 with how soon i go back, because i feel like i can't get over the place if i keep visiting, can't get over everything that happened there, but i miss the clear air and the way the city looks from the walls around 6pm, and not being able to walk 10 feet without seeing people you know, or wish you didn't know. i think i have to just sit tight and wait for it to pass.
the new gardener is a bit fine, sleeve and neck tattoos. i'm a sucker for controversy x
Joe from Wimbledon.
We were in Factory, on the first floor where the hipsters and wannabes dance; I was still, and am, undecided what category I fell into. I could barely make out the line in front of my face; the smoke machine leaving everyone beautiful and ‘Love Will Tear Us Apart’ came on.
Either the DJ was psychic and knew I’d been waiting for it to play or in front of us appeared a happy coincidence, but my already dilated pupils seemed to stretch further, and a path cleared through the haze allowing me to see HIM. He couldn’t dance, but it all disappeared as we got the night bus to Rusholme, fellow dawn passengers regarding us with either disdain or fascination, no doubt concocting some great affair in their minds between the two of us, which led us to this time and place. But it wasn’t meant to be - he was a Law student. I never left my number.
Monday
Sunday
sunday funday
have slept approx 16 hours in 2 weeks. whilst its a sign of a good life, the result is my eyes can barely focus and i'm bruising easier than a catholic choirboy. beeeddd please x
Friday
conversations with god.
the world already wanted me today before even opening an eye. it was mum. being an only child, guilt seeps in if proper and often communication is not kept in place, which can be hard as she's very skilled at revealing my states of intoxication/post-intoxication/coming down over the phoneline.
3 minutes in, she asked what sedatives i'd been on. its a talent. i think its largely due to her having been a perscription junkie for the last 40 years. i didn't develop a taste for tramadol and valium out of thin air! so that started things off well, and i eventually left the reciever face down on the pillow, the polyfibre a better audience for the lecture.
my bathroom is more a cupboard with a toilet in, but the small space allows even the smallest slice of winter sun to mimic a hockney pastel scene. it was an enjoyable difference this AM from the darkness and judgement taking place in the bedroom.
just begun to re-read less than zero. if you haven't read anything by brett easton ellis you're missing out, his depicition of youth is spot on. i read it first when i was 14, and although loved it then, it speaks more to me now having developed the same detachments clay has to life.
i have to touch my foot when i read sat upright (whats tht about?) so spent a few minutes perched on the bath lip, caressing naked toes whilst touring drug riddled LA circa 1985 with ellis as a respite from the maternal nagging. it was nice. returning the blackberry to my ear, i catch the end warning. "Do you understand me?"
it was difficult not to laugh, but i managed to suppress.
"yes mum."
x
3 minutes in, she asked what sedatives i'd been on. its a talent. i think its largely due to her having been a perscription junkie for the last 40 years. i didn't develop a taste for tramadol and valium out of thin air! so that started things off well, and i eventually left the reciever face down on the pillow, the polyfibre a better audience for the lecture.
my bathroom is more a cupboard with a toilet in, but the small space allows even the smallest slice of winter sun to mimic a hockney pastel scene. it was an enjoyable difference this AM from the darkness and judgement taking place in the bedroom.
just begun to re-read less than zero. if you haven't read anything by brett easton ellis you're missing out, his depicition of youth is spot on. i read it first when i was 14, and although loved it then, it speaks more to me now having developed the same detachments clay has to life.
i have to touch my foot when i read sat upright (whats tht about?) so spent a few minutes perched on the bath lip, caressing naked toes whilst touring drug riddled LA circa 1985 with ellis as a respite from the maternal nagging. it was nice. returning the blackberry to my ear, i catch the end warning. "Do you understand me?"
it was difficult not to laugh, but i managed to suppress.
"yes mum."
x
Thursday
FUCK IT
after spending the day with my close and personal friend Bret Easton Ellis, i've come to the conclusion that its my duty to go out. x
Monday
Wednesday
procrastination.
attempting to cut some of the flesh out of this beast of an essay. got up at 2 (don't judge, u wish u could laze long hours away under the duvet too), decided after a brief shower and a lean brunch would crack on with it, even tying hair in a bun complete with lodged pencil to appear studious. thats how the day should have gone. here is the truthful version of events:
stood under the hot water for over half an hour digesting the days agenda, danced in my pants for a solid hour, ate a cinammon bun, followed by alot of carb based products (regular readers will be aware of the shaky relationship i have with bready items), conversed with fellow slackers on facebook, sorted out a brief misunderstanding from last night and spent £879 in a fantasy asos shop.
so YEAH... its going well. could be worse i guess. oh wait i'm wearing a pink acrylic jumper with jumping rabbits on. SO NO IT COULDN'T GET ANY FUCKING WORSE. god.
its not due til monday, so should be fine. maybe. if it was regarding a relevant subject i'd be more inclined to spend time with it, but its not. i'd fare better writing a piece on why i'm convinced the contraceptive implant is a government device, which i am btw. paranoid state.
in a new placement with a scene and events magazine in manchester. its going well actually, they just seem to require alot from me. there is one small tiny upside though. TOMORROW I'M INTERVIEWING LYKKE LI!!!! those heathens amoungst you who remain ignorant, shes an amazing singer/songwriter from sweden about to drop her sophmore venture. levi's model too, bit fit. therefore, as well as trying to write a million and one pieces for uni, am trying to put together 6 articles for mag and decide what to wear to meet the swede electro beauty. note to self, pluck monobrow. knowing my luck, they'll say she's got flu or something.
watched some of my fave satc seaon last night with my assistant A. she's good btw, fell in the canal the other day though. lucky her pocket sized lover was on hand to drag her brown carcass out though, seeing as she can't swim. sport is a non-existent factor in the coventry education system; they're a bit preoccupied trying to install basic lessons such as the need for cutlery in the inbred generation currently haunting school corridors in and around the west mids. i went to a catholic school, so obvs we were just being taught how to please the priest and being punished for crying out. i'm still clueless with a soup spoon.
anyways, i digress. it was the series when carrie gets back with aiden, and they're engaged. in reality, no man would have sjp. she's so whiney and self obsessed. charlotte is barren and getting divorced, and carrie just moans about not wanting to get hitched to this beautiful, tall man. i would have gladly taken him off her boney man hands. defo cried a little. think i'm just exhausted from looking now. every option starts and ends the same, excitement and resignation . keep waiting to be suprised, but the larger part of my cynical mind tells the ever decreasing tiny hopeful chunk 'i told you so'. i did have a bruise on my forearm from my last endeavour, but as its faded, so have any ideas i had about me and him becoming an 'us'. maybe by gradutation i'll have become the tinman, and have to make some epic pilgrimage to oz to beg the wizard for a heart. or i'll go back on glue.
took some local pics last night, the one below is my fave. a converted steam mill, the victorian facade totally conceals thr art deco interiors. it looks quite bleak, but winter phototgrapjy is meant to yeah? x
stood under the hot water for over half an hour digesting the days agenda, danced in my pants for a solid hour, ate a cinammon bun, followed by alot of carb based products (regular readers will be aware of the shaky relationship i have with bready items), conversed with fellow slackers on facebook, sorted out a brief misunderstanding from last night and spent £879 in a fantasy asos shop.
so YEAH... its going well. could be worse i guess. oh wait i'm wearing a pink acrylic jumper with jumping rabbits on. SO NO IT COULDN'T GET ANY FUCKING WORSE. god.
its not due til monday, so should be fine. maybe. if it was regarding a relevant subject i'd be more inclined to spend time with it, but its not. i'd fare better writing a piece on why i'm convinced the contraceptive implant is a government device, which i am btw. paranoid state.
in a new placement with a scene and events magazine in manchester. its going well actually, they just seem to require alot from me. there is one small tiny upside though. TOMORROW I'M INTERVIEWING LYKKE LI!!!! those heathens amoungst you who remain ignorant, shes an amazing singer/songwriter from sweden about to drop her sophmore venture. levi's model too, bit fit. therefore, as well as trying to write a million and one pieces for uni, am trying to put together 6 articles for mag and decide what to wear to meet the swede electro beauty. note to self, pluck monobrow. knowing my luck, they'll say she's got flu or something.
watched some of my fave satc seaon last night with my assistant A. she's good btw, fell in the canal the other day though. lucky her pocket sized lover was on hand to drag her brown carcass out though, seeing as she can't swim. sport is a non-existent factor in the coventry education system; they're a bit preoccupied trying to install basic lessons such as the need for cutlery in the inbred generation currently haunting school corridors in and around the west mids. i went to a catholic school, so obvs we were just being taught how to please the priest and being punished for crying out. i'm still clueless with a soup spoon.
anyways, i digress. it was the series when carrie gets back with aiden, and they're engaged. in reality, no man would have sjp. she's so whiney and self obsessed. charlotte is barren and getting divorced, and carrie just moans about not wanting to get hitched to this beautiful, tall man. i would have gladly taken him off her boney man hands. defo cried a little. think i'm just exhausted from looking now. every option starts and ends the same, excitement and resignation . keep waiting to be suprised, but the larger part of my cynical mind tells the ever decreasing tiny hopeful chunk 'i told you so'. i did have a bruise on my forearm from my last endeavour, but as its faded, so have any ideas i had about me and him becoming an 'us'. maybe by gradutation i'll have become the tinman, and have to make some epic pilgrimage to oz to beg the wizard for a heart. or i'll go back on glue.
took some local pics last night, the one below is my fave. a converted steam mill, the victorian facade totally conceals thr art deco interiors. it looks quite bleak, but winter phototgrapjy is meant to yeah? x
p.s. if you get the chance, listen to james vincent mcmorrow. AMAZE!
Sunday
FML
my editor has suggested writing a piece this week about manchester student nights out, and, as i don't live there, offered to hand over some kitty for my 'research'....and i get tonsillitis. WAAAAAAAA. x
Friday
Luxury
I heard a wonderful rumour the other day that was actually true (a rarity these days). tesco has begun selling macarons de paris...these small delicates remind me of the life i should be living.
Currently, i buy crap i don't need, use £5 conditioner and eat cheap vegetables. I think its time to get back to trying to achieve luxury in everyday life. Primark should be shunned, and rather than purchase another naff dress, my funds can be reserved for cascades of feathers and ruffles and silk from outlets which smell like jo malone. underwear is another issue. cotton boy shorts are not the mark of high glamour.
i first acquired this love of oppulence as a small child, where mother, aka G-UNIT, would be surrounded by a cloud of coco chanel, her face smooth from all the prescription drugs. the time i spent in london in may also contributed. my boss had a £3000 burberry aviator, ate watercress for lunch and spent weekends hobnobbing on the scene and quaffing champagne. I NEED TO HAVE THIS LIFE.
even at the latest internship in manchester, my new editor confessed that whilst she sometimes struggled to pay the bills, her jimmy choos and stash of mulberry always stayed in place. hmmm. all this from a fondant sandwich. i think its because the wafer itself is obvi of french origin. those parisan bitches have luxury down to a tee. Stylist free, the long limbed and lovely stalk the capital's streets, poreless of course, with beautiful young artists hanging onto their every word. MON DIEU.
First steps, stop necking lambrini, moisturise everyday and invest in some kerastase hair goodies regardless of its £22 price tag. oh, and maybe assess the wardrobe. farewell cookie monster pants. x
Currently, i buy crap i don't need, use £5 conditioner and eat cheap vegetables. I think its time to get back to trying to achieve luxury in everyday life. Primark should be shunned, and rather than purchase another naff dress, my funds can be reserved for cascades of feathers and ruffles and silk from outlets which smell like jo malone. underwear is another issue. cotton boy shorts are not the mark of high glamour.
i first acquired this love of oppulence as a small child, where mother, aka G-UNIT, would be surrounded by a cloud of coco chanel, her face smooth from all the prescription drugs. the time i spent in london in may also contributed. my boss had a £3000 burberry aviator, ate watercress for lunch and spent weekends hobnobbing on the scene and quaffing champagne. I NEED TO HAVE THIS LIFE.
even at the latest internship in manchester, my new editor confessed that whilst she sometimes struggled to pay the bills, her jimmy choos and stash of mulberry always stayed in place. hmmm. all this from a fondant sandwich. i think its because the wafer itself is obvi of french origin. those parisan bitches have luxury down to a tee. Stylist free, the long limbed and lovely stalk the capital's streets, poreless of course, with beautiful young artists hanging onto their every word. MON DIEU.
First steps, stop necking lambrini, moisturise everyday and invest in some kerastase hair goodies regardless of its £22 price tag. oh, and maybe assess the wardrobe. farewell cookie monster pants. x
look, but don't eat.
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