Bitch.

I haven't written a blog lately, because I think I may have had a minor mid-life crisis. Whilst trying to write an essay (just to get onto a Masters course) and juggling work, relationships and health issues, it seems I turned into a massive bitch. This last month, I've been the nastiest person on Earth- but I would like to blame that on excrutiating pain caused by 3 naughty wisdom teeth. These wisdom teeth are now being banished and a sexy doctor is going to rip them from my mouth. I can't wait to wear a bumless gown and have a swollen mouth.

On other teeth related news, I've also been advised to get a brace for my bottom set of teeth. I'm not sure if at my age this is cool, like the woman from Steps (the shit one) who got a brace, or if I'm just going to look stupid. I'm also aware that my speech will suffer.. I mean, I already have a stutter and a slight lisp, so even if it gets worse, I'm sure no one will actually notice.. Fingers crossed.

I've finished the essay for the Masters course now, and sent it off before I can look at it again and cry because it's all completely wrong. What's done is done. If I don't get onto the course, I'm going to join the circus. Or maybe see what ICS can do for me. ICYES YOU CAN. Hate that bitch.

Amy skanked off and went to Australia. So I sent her an email with as many Australian phrases in as I could think of. I even googled the subject, but I didn't understand a lot of them.. I'm excited to see a photo of her in a cork hat, but also really jealous that I'm not going.

I broke my phone a couple of weeks ago (well actually, it's a software problem, so it's not really my fault).. so I bought a £9 one from Tescos. It even has a colour screen ooooohhh. A rest from Facebook has been quite nice actually. But people forget and ask me "can I send you a photo?"... "errrm yes you can, by post or pigeon messenger, but not by phone.."

I'm not going to say anymore, because I'm still balancing on the edge of a mid-life crisis, and I don't want to wind myself up.

January sucks.

Now that Christmas is over, I think everyone is slowly sinking into a January depression. I, myself, have spent the day watching romcoms and crying into a pillow.. I'm now waiting for a massive order from Dominos so I can eat my feelings in peace. Everyone suddenly feels like they are stuck in a rut, and have nothing to look forward to.

Recently, I've been missing Chester a lot, but I think this is partly down to not being able to stroll into a cocktail bar at 4pm on a Wednesday, get drunk off £10 and see about 50 people you know. Living in a small town is just not that exciting. I suppose I could go down to the bus shelter and take a bottle of white lightning and really fit in.. I could really go to town and put a cigarette behind my ear.

I'm generally missing regular nights out.. I didn't even go out on New Year's Eve, because I chose to work the night shift instead. Having said this, I had a right ball because I had the flu so I spent my night in a cold sweat due to a lemsip overload. It almost felt like I was in a hot sweaty club, only there was snot everywhere. I was desperately bitter that night and refused to wish anyone a happy new year. The only pro was that on New Year's Day I was almost the only person that wasn't hungover, even if I had to spend the day on the sofa being molested by the dog. I was too weak (from the deathly flu) to fight the dog off, so he used that opportunity to lick my face repeatedly, and occasionally he managed to slip his tongue into my mouth. It was a traumatic day.

I'm probably starting to get old as I relished the 50p Christmas cards in Clintons, and then stowed them away ready for next Christmas. I've also been becoming adventurous in the kitchen.. and by adventurous I mean not just cooking beige foods in the oven and covering them in cheese. I even made a corned beef hash recently. If you don't know what this is, then you haven't lived.

Me and my boyfriend are even getting old, by planning a lovely getaway to the Peak District, so we can go walking, have picnics and maybe even start knitting. I'm planning to knit some baby booties, because you never know when someone is going to pop out a sprog.

To try and get myself out of the January rut, I've decided to look forward to my holiday to Spain in July.. but then remembered if I wear a bikini in public I might get harpooned. People are cruel. Another thing to look forward to is the possibility of going back to University to complete a Masters degree. That's if I even get on the course I want. If not, I'm going to grow a beard and join the circus.

Love making, heart breaking, soul shaking.

Over the last few weeks, I've trundled to Westfield shopping centre in Derby to complete my mother's shopping list for her. The first couple of times were fun- I got what was on the list and even treated myself to some new clothes. Result. I went again today, on the 14th of December, and I think I've lost my soul there. Now, if you've ever been there or happen to go there, you'll know how traumatising it really is, and why you should never go, especially not in December.

For starters, Primark is not located in the shopping centre, so I had to walk about 15 miles in the cold to look for it. I then asked a complete stranger if she knew where it was. She told me to turn around because it was right behind me. Embarrassing. Primark is scary at its best, but this close to Christmas people are pushing past to get the last pair of fluffy Santa socks and the queues are full of chavs, babies in prams and the elderly. I just wanted some tights and pyjamas.

After finding my way back to the shopping centre (I was scared to ask someone again), I had to go to Nandos to get a Christmas hot spice set. The staff in there were baffled when I would not sit at my designated seat.. "No, I just want a spice set. No food. Just the set.." The woman who served me decided to explain and point out each pot of sauce and spice, and then asked me AGAIN if I would be dining at my designated seat or if I was having my food to take away.

I had to go into Boots next. Why do children think it's acceptable to run around stranger's feet? I'm not going to lie, I did nudge the child 'by accident' so it would leave me alone. Don't bring your child Christmas shopping with you, tie them up outside. Also, don't walk in front of my really slowly because I will make a pissed off noise and overtake you. If my bags hit you on the way, then you shouldn't have been such a dickhead.

After this, I decided I would treat myself to some clothes. It's really difficult to inspect clothes whilst holding a million bags of someone elses shopping.. Okay, I only had 5 bags but it's not the point. I picked a top and took it to the counter. I then had to wait until someone realised there was a queue and decided to do their job. The man dropped the tag off the top, but instead of admitting that he had dropped it, he radioed to his friend to bring another top with another tag on. It's next to your foot, I can actually see it.

I was slightly cheered up by the large painted on foot prints around the shopping centre, obviously for children with extremely long legs. I did try to reach each foot print but my body doesn't bend that way. It led to the station for the shopping centre train (again for children). I was tempted to have a little ride, but the carriages looked like they were made for the Borrowers. I wonder how the children with extremely long legs manage to squeeze themselves into the carriages.

After walking around for 2 hours with many bags, I was feeling a little peckish so I made my way to the food court. The food court in Westfield shopping centre is a grazing ground for people who are too rough to be on the Jeremy Kyle show. Many of the places there are lovely little counters of fresh and healthy food, including English favourites, Chinese, jacket potatoes and even a pie stall. However, there are also places such as KFC, Burger King and Pizza Hut which all seem to have the biggest queues. I decided to get a chicken burger (from the healthy place, not KFC), and eat it alone. This is soul destroying in itself so I pretended to be important and I read a paper I found. I actually heard a chav behind me on the phone say "I've brought my family out for dinner, I'm a family man now." IN WESTFIELD SHOPPING CENTRE FOOD COURT. Oooh why don't you just take them to a fucking strip club as well.

I hated my life after sitting and eating a chicken burger with people watching. (The way in which the food court is set up means that everyone kind of faces each other on little benches..) I really did not want a dozen people to see the piece of lettuce smothered in mayonnaise fall out of the burger and slap me on the chin.
I decided to leave after this because I feared I might hit a child or say something offensive to an old lady. So I got up to put my food tray in the bin. I dropped it on the way. People actually laughed and pointed.

On the way home, I used my horn about 5 times because I was so wound up over the day. And then the song 'Don't Let Go' by En Vogue came on the radio and surprisingly this seemed to fix my whole day. Singing "there'll be some love making, heart breaking, soul shaking" at the top of my voice seemed to make the pain go away. Although I still don't know where my soul has gone.

The moral of this story? Do your Christmas shopping in October.

Nice people do exist.

So yesterday, my car broke down for the second time in two weeks. It broke down the first time the day before my Graduation, but it was magically fixed in 15 minutes and sent back into my loving arms. Apparently it wasn't properly fixed so as I was approaching a 5 way crossroads the poor little clutch pump came undone and left a puddle of clutch wee - it also decided it didn't want to move anymore. It was cold and foggy, and people were honking at me. One even wound down his window and gave me the finger, despite me having my hazards on and looking like a scared puppy. For a few seconds I hit the steering wheel like an ape shouting "why me? WHY?!".. but this didn't help the situation.

After having a little sob and ringing the RAC, I decided to try and get out of the car without being mowed down. I had rang my brother's girlfriend for advice. Most of the conversation consisted of her shouting down the phone "GET OUT OF THE CAR. GET OUT!" It was cold...

As I was climbing out, a couple approached the car. I'm not going to lie, my first thought was "oh great, first the car, now I'm going to be taken as a sex slave..." This didn't happen. They went to the back of the car and told me to get in and steer. They then proceeded to push me and the car up the biggest hill I've ever seen. Another man jumped out to help. I didn't know nice people like that still existed. I even cried out of astonishment. So the lady of the couple gave me a cuddle. It was a precious moment. But also, incredibly uncomfortable because I needed a wee desperately.

After finally being towed to the garage by the RAC man, I'd stopped being such a wimp. The garage was shut so I left my car there and wrote a very snotty note. The mechanics were obviously trying to avoid me this morning. But the car is fixed at no charge and it's back on my drive pining for me. I still can't believe some people actually pushed me up a hill. So if you see a beautiful young girl in a car with the hazards on, maybe you should stop and help..

Later this week, I'm doing a run of night shifts, which means everything I watch on TV will have that woman in the corner signing to me. Why do TV producers assume that deaf people only watch TV in the middle of the night? I like to watch the animal documentaries because it's more than likely that at some point the woman in the corner is going to pretend to be an animal. Once, she didn't know the name for a certain fish so she pretended to be a fish along the bottom of the screen, 'swimming' back and forth. That was a good night shift.

I've got 'Time' magazine to read one of the nights, so I can feel educated and what not. There's an article about favourite children. Everything in the article points to me being the less favoured child, which is slightly upsetting. Maybe if I was the favourite, then my parents would have bought me a new car by now.. Just saying.

Winning at life :)

Since leaving University, my intelligence level has dropped drastically. I no longer speak properly, and have started to drop letters off of words, coming out with phrases such as "am jus' goin' t' shop". I cannot tell you how difficult it is to type and spell correctly whilst still making sense right now. As Long As I Never Type Like This, I Will Remain Happy.

To try and cling on to the precious few brain cells I still have, I have begged my training coordinator at work to send me on every course she hears about. This also includes doing a NVQ in Health and Social Care.. I will probably regret this decision when I am working full time, learning Chinese, accountancy, child psychology and how to be a gym instructor. (Yes, I've been browsing the internet for home learning courses..) I just wish someone would set me an essay. Or ask me to do a powerpoint. Anything.

My Graduation is in a couple of weeks, and I'm really worried that I'm going to be the dick that falls over and smashes their face into someone's crotch. My parents are coming, and my brother and his girlfriend.. so there will be plenty of photos of any 'face to crotch' incidents. Unless it's later on in the night, and then it's X-rated.. wheeeeyyy. I'm dreading the hat hair. That and speaking like a knobhead is probably going to ruin the whole experience. Maybe people will think my new 'accent' is charming..

I went to an 18th birthday party at the weekend, which was slightly depressing as no one asked for my ID, or even looked at me for longer than a second to figure out if I was of age. They just knew straight away that I'm practically approaching 30. My antics of the night were not very mature though, as when leaving the party at 11.30pm to meet my boyfriend and his friends, I suddenly chundered. Luckily, no one actually saw it happen, and I was fine for the rest of the night.. The very fact that I just wiped my face, drank some vodka to take the nasty taste away, popped some chewing gum and then delicately stepped over the vomit doesn't really sound like the mature thing to do.. I was a trooper and stayed out until 4am, but I really did pay for it the next day.

I'm still battling obesity, and convincing myself every day that I just fucking love salad so much. I also gave up smoking, and nearly killed everyone I came into contact with. So I bought an electronic cigarette for those rage filled moments.. then I got drunk, and bought some cigarettes, and a fat kebab. I'm winning at life :)

I'm going to go and suck on a fake cigarette and munch on an apple. And learn how to say "fuck you world" in Chinese. Yay.

22 and already having bladder problems.

So a couple of weeks ago, I turned 22 and decided to go camping for a few days with Amy to celebrate. Once we had embraced the mud, wind and rain, we did quite well. We even managed to put the tent up without completely breaking it. We learnt to cook on a gas stove that magically lit itself and I learnt that no matter what the occasion, Amy can always manage to make her through 8+ cans of cider.
The evening before my birthday, she 'accidentally' got drunk and kept shouting at me "why aren't you drunk?!?!"... erm maybe because you have drank all of the alcohol within a 5 mile radius.

I made it clear that no muddy shoes were allowed in the sleeping bit of the tent. (I realise how anal I am.) Of course, a drunk Amy forgot this and fell into the tent and then proceeded to kick the inside of it, leaving muddy footprints for us to stare at. She set an alarm for midnight to wish me a happy birthday, and then slept through both of them. She also winded me by trying to give me a birthday spoon. THEN in the morning, she forgot it was actually my birthday... Awkward.

On my birthday, we went to the pub in the evening to drink and play cards. Then we took pizzas back to the tent. We had an indepth conversation about the quality of said pizzas. The sauce really made them top notch. It was all quite civilized until I weed on the grass next to the tent. The walk to the toilet was just too far. Besides, it's not like any children were going to play on that bit of grass.. oh wait. But, in all seriousness, it was a wicked birthday and we saw some amazing views, including some sheep bones..

One day we went on a big walk and decided to venture up a grass verge. Half way up it, we realised just how steep it was and had to resume a flattering position just to stay alive. It's that moment when you do a nervous laugh, but you actually think you might slip and die. Amy slipped down a bit, and I think I weed my pants a little from laughing. I'm starting to think I might have a bladder problem.. Maybe it's my age. I kept thinking Scar was going to appear at the top and violently push me down. We did make it to the top though.

After all these exciting events, I came home to early starts and full time work. All I wanted was to play in sheep poo again.. (I forgot to say, some rams nearly killed us on one of our walks- well, they looked like they wanted to kill us.)
My life is so uninteresting that I seem to think the characters in soaps are people I know. I expect to see Alfie Moon and Phil Mitchell whenever I go grocery shopping. It's because I don't have any real friends. The highlight of this week is that I found out Augustana have released a new album. Yay. They didn't tell me personally which is quite frankly rude, but Amazon did make a point of letting me know.

Actually, the real highlight of the week was shopping in Derby today with my mother. Even if she almost had a breakdown due to Saturday shoppers. We shopped for a few hours and had lunch- the latter was a horrific chicken burger that looked like it had already been eaten. Should have gone to KFC rather than the budget chicken bar. On the way home my mother fell asleep. Obviously I had tired her out by trying on endless pairs of red trousers.

I'm spending my Saturday night reading, watching The X Factor and eating a Chinese ready meal. I might treat myself to a WKD. Ooooooh. The possibilities are endless. I don't even think I'd want to go out even if someone asked me to.. (I'm not just saying that because no has or will ask me..)

Tomorrow, it is my cousin's son's 3rd birthday party. It's being held at a pub, which makes me extremely happy. It will be nice to wear nice clothes and not my scummy work clothes. At work, I tend to look like a lesbian who lives on a farm. Actually, most of the time I look like that. Probably investing in red trousers and brown trousers isn't my best move. All I need now is some dungarees. I just don't want to give myself a permanent camel toe quite yet.. I need to find a fancy dress costume for next week, and I'm really struggling to find anything. I want to be a teddy bear, but this is proving to be difficult. I'm hoping to gatecrash Chester University's Freshers week and pretend that I'm not actually approaching 30. The plan is to go out 3 nights in a row. I'm probably going to break something or die. I'll let you know in a couple of weeks.

Welcome to the real world.

Recently I've become an adult and got a proper job. A job where I have to sometimes get up early and then concentrate for 8 hours. I'm now a support worker for disabled adults- when I tell people this they usually react with "you? really? I can't imagine you doing that..." I'm loving the support so far. I'm actually loving my job though, getting paid is just a bonus. Plus I get alternate weekends off, so I can jet off to see friends. Not Amy Rooke though.

I've also come to massively appreciate my days off, weekends and week days. Today I've slept, eaten and watched Angel- it has been absolute bliss and I don't feel guilty at all. I had some days off recently and decided to join my family on their holiday to Wales. On the way there, I got lost (stupid Satnav) and I'm not even kidding but I'm pretty sure I was on top of a big mountain. I went through a village that was the highest village in Wales. I was cacking my pants for about an hour as I swerved around sheep. Didn't realise I was afraid of heights until this happened. I didn't let the car go over 10mph just in case. My family would not have been happy if I had driven off the edge of a cliff, because they had saved me some dinner and were eagerly anticipating my arrival. The journey took longer than expected because of my detour, but then I had to keep getting out of the car to take photos (mainly to prove to my brother that I was late because I had been climbing Snowdon in a car...)

It was nice to spend a couple of days watching the dogs have fun. It wasn't so nice to sleep on a camping mattress the size of a matchbox, roll into the middle of the tent repeatedly and be met by my Mother snoring. No offence Mother dearest, but you sound like a llama slowly dying. I ended up getting sunburn and heat rash too, so I was pretty mardy. When I finally decided to embark on the 4 hour journey back, I was ready to crawl into a normal sized bed and actually sleep. 30 minutes away from home my back tyre decided to burst dramatically. I swerved off the road into a layby at 10pm. I then proceeded to cry (I hadn't showered in a while and I really didn't want to see anyone...) Finally after phoning my Dad and asking him if there was any chance that I could change my own tyre, I decided to ring the RAC. Within 20 minutes a nice RAC man turned up and rescued me... Well actually, first he tried to upgrade my breakdown cover, but after seeing how dirty I looked he decided to change my tyre quickly and let me go on my way.

Despite me now having a grown up job, I can still throw a tantrum fit for a 5 year old. I'm sorry, but how difficult is it to remember that I do not like crunchy peanut butter? The real world is so cruel. I'm ashamed to say that I sulked over peanut butter for quite a while until finally realising how stupid I was being. This weekend, my mother bought me smooth peanut butter and now everything is right in the world again.

I've decided to visit Chester next weekend, and I'm apprehensive about the entire trip. Will it be different now? I feel like me and Chester have gone through a nasty break up and now we're being forced to spend time together because of mutual friends. When I come back from Chester, will I resent Shepshed for being so shit? Who knows. I'm assuming that my bad luck will strike again over the weekend- perhaps another tyre will blow up, or maybe a broken bone. (Don't worry, I just touched wood, I'll be fine..)

I work with a lot of people from Sileby (a village near me) and I've started to pick up the accent.. Yesterday, instead of saying "you had better get a move on", I said "berra gerra move on". It was embarrassing, but I'm having trouble shaking it off.

I can't think of anything else that has happened recently that is worth sharing.. Oh, well I changed my duvet cover the other day. That was nice. (It took me about half an hour and I had to crawl into the cover to straighten the duvet, almost suffocating and peeing my pants..) It seems that everything becomes more complicated the second I get involed. I make mountains out of mole hills. But I'd just like to clarify that I really was driving on a mountain in Wales, and it wasn't just a mole hill.