Organisation, Let Us Never Be Parted

Dear Organisation,

Hi, I'm Lou. I know, I haven't had a chance to introduce myself to you, but let me say this, It's nice to meet you.

I'm sorry that I've been such a bitch to you for all of these years. I totally judged you without even meeting you and that was wrong. Maybe by way of apology I could stay organised for ever more?

I'm fully aware that I would always tidy my clothes away with a promise of keeping them that way only to give up three days later when I was in a rush, resulting in a mountain of clothes. And yes I know that the storage of my Uni work was shocking, what with it being strewn over two different houses, resulting in me never knowing what I had and had not finished. And please don't mention my top drawer. I know that it was only meant to keep make up and beauty bits etc but it now houses letters, receipts, cards and dead batteries to name a few.

But I'm changing. I don't have any actual proof, just give me time.

I promise you, organisation, we shall never be parted again.

Until next week.

Lots of love,

'Draw Something' - A Love/Hate Relationship

You may remember a few weeks ago I did a post on Draw Something, the insanely addictive game that seems to be sweeping the nation. Well, here's a little diary in the life of a 'Draw Something' addict.

Day one: I can't really see the appeal in this game at all. Someone at work tells me how jealous they are that most of us have it on our phones - for the first time they are almost jealous that they don't own a smart phone. I think it sounds like the most boring game in the world.

Several days later: I am lured into trying it out "just to see what it's like". I have no one to play though, so I tell one of my friends about it over dinner. We spend most of the next day playing it. I think this might actually be the best game ever.

I'd love to say this was me, but I'm not one for taking photos of my chest in the mirror (see the girl's picture at the top) 

The following day: Another one of my friends starts a game with me. This is swiftly followed by a couple of texts asking if I have the game. I now have at least four games on the go which is manageable, in fact, I don't think I have enough games going on.

Next day: I now have games going on regularly with six different people. This is becoming surprisingly time consuming and I end up spending the whole evening playing it. As soon as I have finished one turn, someone else responds with theirs. It's a never ending cycle apparently. I wonder how I can continue with real life and still play 'Draw Something'. It seems impossible. I take the time to rant about this on twitter and soon have to remove said tweet as my point seems to have been missed as I now have five new players.

The number of people starting games with me over the next few days increases. I also find that people are suddenly texting me about the game we are playing (mainly people that rarely text me) to remind me to take my turn, or to give me a hint for their 'drawing'. This means that I'm now playing 15 games AND I have people talking to me about the game via text. The game is all consuming and not only is the rest of my life suffering, but my battery is as well.

The game freezes and wont re start. Initially I feel panicked. However, I suddenly realise there is light on the horizon - I'm out of 'Draw Something's' grip.

It's really very freeing.

Until I discovered 'Words With Friends'. If anything, this is more addictive.

Damn you, (iPhone) world.

Do you play 'Words With Friends'? Let me know because I'm itching for something else to take over my life!

What's a Blog, Again?

Sorry I've been a bad blogger, but I've had such a crazy week. Mainly as it's my last month of uni. But it's all good. Truly, it is. Mainly because in a months time, I wont have to write an essay EVER again. (I hope.)

This week I have been mostly. . .

Writing essays. 

Ugh. This is my last ever essay (unless I've made a serious misjudgement and I have actually forgotten to write one. Trust me, it wouldn't be the first time) and I am SO excited. Although it is starting to dawn on me that once I've finished uni there will be no more free money. Ever. Or summer holidays. 

Or Christmas holiday's for that point. 

Sleeping.

What? After spending 30% of my day avoiding writing my essay, 50% of my day procrastinating on facebook and then finally spending the remaining 20% actually bothering to write the damn thing. I deserved a little nap at the table. 

Cooking.

I haven't cooked anything for aggges (except for the fajitas that I seem to eat three times a week). So after remembering that Find Me A Gift had sent me some cooking accessories to review I decided to have a little dabble in the kitchen. The items they sent me are well suited to an afternoon of baking as opposed to knocking up a full roast. The first item they sent me was the heart shaped oven mitt. This silicone mitt was great when I was getting my cookies in and out of the oven. The most surprising thing? I could barely feel the heat through it. Given that I am usually a tea-towel-as-an-oven-glove type of girl, this was a nice surprise. No burns! 

I probably should have read the packet when it said it's not to be used for most cooking articles straight from the oven. So that would be why I dropped the pan of potatoes on the floor. |*Note to self - must read the packaging in future*

I was also sent the hot lips trivet. This was a perfect compliment to the oven mitt. I didn't think I would use it if I'm honest, but then I noticed all the blister marks over my surface and decided to give it a go. Would you believe, miraculously, just by putting this cute little trivet down, my surface remained blister free (I probably should have invested in this a long time ago). So in one fell swoop, Find Me A Gift have saved both my fingers AND my surface from blisters. Perfect. 

And finally as you can tell, the thing I have also been doing this week is becoming obsessed with Instagram, the app that can make any horrible photographer (me) take seemingly artsy/edgy photos. Tee hee I fooled you !

Anyway, until I have some time to write something of substance (tomorrow, hopefully) here is a video of a cat vs a printer. 

Because yanno, it's a cat attacking a printer. WITH A CAT VOICEOVER! 

Ten Reasons Why I Should Avoid Procreating

***To all my Mama Bears out there, I am totally kidding and I love YOUR little angels, they are completely different from all the other little 'cherubs' on the face of this earth. Besides, who are we kidding. . . just for writing this, I'm probably going to get knocked up with quads. Karma is a cruel mistress. . . ***

1) At night when they're all scared, they would look at me with their big puppy dog eyes and say "Mummy, Mummy! Can you check for monsters under the bed?!" My answer would be hell to the no because I am still totally afraid of the dark. I even get a bit scared of sleeping with a foot hanging over the bed. Also, why should I get eaten instead of you?!

2) I'm not exactly "green", so not adding to the population problem? Perfect for putting a check in that box. Heaven, here I come!

3) Children seem to have an affinity for bugs. Let the record show that I am not okay with this.

4) I can barely afford to look after myself, let alone a child (or multiple children). I think I'd have to sell every piece of jewellery I own to a cash for gold website Or maybe they would accept pound coins for more than their monetary value? (A girl can dream.) If so, there's a reason to start procreating. 


5) I think I'd find it quite hard to praise a child for what is essentially a smear of paint on a plain piece of paper.


6) I may or may not have dressed my cats up in funny outfits purely for my own amusement. Can you imagine what I would do with mini human beings?! 


7) I'm not good with any kind of bodily functions. I don't like having to clear up when my cats are sick, let alone having to scrub human size vomit from my previously pristine carpets. 


8) I like to sleep. There I said it. I like to have lie-ins, I LOVE to nap and occasionally I like to go to sleep late as well. Children never seem to want to sleep in! Then when they eventually crash mid afternoon, I'd have to use my time clearing up after them.


9) Don't even get me started on how my body would start to resemble a sack of potatoes even more than it does now.


10) I would be terrible at discipline. What if one of the little cherubs knocks over my drink? I couldn't shout at them without wanting to cry myself. Although I'm not sure if I'd be more annoyed at the mess or the loss of my drink.

Do you share the same feelings as me? Or do you want lots of children, mess and all? 

A Little Hate is Healthy

A little hate is healthy. 


Now, hear me out before you get out your pitchforks made of rainbows and CareBears.

Much like you can’t truly love until your heart has been broken (says every cheesy chick flick ever, and probably Journey, I don’t know); I don’t think you can appreciate the things and people you love in life unless you routinely experience the things and people that you despise.

Think about it. Hating bonds strangers together in a way nothing else really can. You wanna make a friend? Turn to the person next to you in line at Starbucks and unite in your hate for the jerk off that just cut in front of you. 

Hating on things is also funny. One of my favourite activities is going out for lunch in a busy restaurant and a friend who can keep up with my snark. How often have you laughed yourself into hysterics over something kind, thoughtful, or otherwise benign? Oh, that’s right, NEVER. (Unless there was a cat involved, probably.) But keeping tabs on that horrific first date in the corner? The one where you’re pretty much positive he hasn’t showered in three days while playing internet bingo and she’s clearly a spoilt brat who is going to pretend to go to the toilet but is really escaping out of the window. 

That is hilarious, and also strangely satisfying.

Now, please note I am in no way glorifying cruelty here. Hatred is best (and healthiest) when dealt out in private whispers, and preferably about perfect strangers who will never be the wiser. This is not a license to talk about friends behind their backs; everyone knows those kinds of things should only be said to the offender themselves, and after a lot of drinks have been imbibed. (Also prime for optimal mockage are: faceless corporations, celebrities, and yourself.)

In some ways, hating is actually very constructive. When someone/thing pisses you off by lacking in a certain area, it helps you to identify the things and qualities that you value in services and in people, and therefore, to appreciate them (and hopefully, to cultivate them in yourself). If it drives you nuts that a friend is perpetually late, you value punctuality, and will make an effort to be more on time yourself. When you’re fuming as you watch a 30 year old man sitting down on the bus while a pregnant lady hangs on to the ceiling handles for dear life, it makes you more aware of your surroundings and considerate of others. When some asswipe takes the last serving of lasagna from the cafe and ALL YOU WANTED IN LIFE WAS A GLOB OF ARTERY-CLOGGING CHEESE TODAY…

Well, maybe not that last one.

I also find it to be super cathartic to go on a good rant, kind of like an ugly cry. But that may just be my own very deep-seated issues. MOVING ON.

My point is, hate is not your enemy. A little anger, a passionate rant, even a festering sense of malice towards Subway for never, ever putting enough of those stupid cheese triangle thingies on your sandwich… these can all go a long way towards making a new friend, getting something toxic out of your system, and maybe, just maybe, being a better person.


Do you think we should all unite in hatred? Or should we all just try and be nicer people and thus make friends along the way?

An Interesting Love Potion

I love Harry Potter. Have I ever mentioned that? 

In the sixth film (Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince) the kids are all in their Potions class, and professor Slughorn teaches them how to make a love potion. Said potion will smell different to each person, depending on what most attracts them. You know, sexually. (What?? They're all 16 in this film, it's legit.) And most of the answers were things such as "freshly cut grass" and "toothpaste" and "Ron's wiener".  


One of those isn't true. But it may as well have been.


So of course it got me thinking, what would mine be? Besides Ron's wiener, obviously.

Each and every one of them are thinking of Ron. . . 

Well, my favourite smell in the whole wide world (at the moment) is Old El Paso fajita mix. The steak and peppers are a lovely but unnecessary accessory from where I'm standing.


(Okay, that's a lie, there are two things I never say no to: a Scrubs marathon and steak fajitas. Oh, and cheese.) But you catch my drift, yes?


Anyway, I got to thinking; What if Mikee actually smelt like fajitas? Would that really turn me on? I'm sure I would try to take a bite out of him, but probably not in the sexy way.


Can you bottle "a man and his cat playing with a piece of string"? Or "Mikee playing with my hair"? (You probably could actually. . . ) Or even a "Zach Braff and Mikee sandwich"? (Not a literal sandwich you understand?) 'Cause that's what really gets my panties. . 


I've said too much.

All New People

Ok I should probably admit that I've tried writing this post about twelve times. Alas, due to my excitement I'm finding it hard to find the words to sum up exactly how I'm feeling. 

Now before you excitable folk start jumping to conclusions (as I would myself) I am not pregnant, engaged or anything else of that nature. 

Yesterday, we met Zach Braff.

Those of you that know me will know that Zach Braff is a hero of mine. He can act, write and direct to an amazingly high standard. 

Oh and he's a hottie. Is there anything this man cannot do?! 

Zach is best known for his role as 'J.D' in 'Scrubs' (the finest comedy to ever grace our screens) and for his creation of the award winning 'Garden State'. Both are truly amazing, however, Braff has now added another string to his bow with the creation of 'All New People'. 

'All New People' focuses on a 35 year old man, Charlie (Braff), who is currently living in New Jersey and is struggling to cope with his emotions. The opening of the play grabs you from the set go when we see him standing on a chair with a noose around his neck. You (much like I was) may be forgiven for thinking that this is a dark play. Far from it, instead it is a dry and witty comedy that focuses on the intertwining of four very different people's lives. 

As well as Charlie there is Emma (Eve Myles) a fantastically scatty woman who originates from London but has been in America for 11 years and is desperately trying to get a green card ("As difficult as trying to build a house of cards on a squirrel's back"), Myron (Paul Hilton) an ex teacher who is now chief of a fire station, despite having a tremendous drug problem and Kim (Susannah Fielding) a ukulele playing escort (that once had scabies, not crabs!).

I'll limit the story telling of the play there as I urge each and every one of you to try and see it before it closes up shop on the 28th April. 

The only thing that's left to say is, upon meeting Zach after the play, I reformed to my teenage self and starting shaking (and nearly crying). The photo that we managed to get with him will stay with me always, and the memories of the play will last a life time. 

Zach, if you're reading this, it's lucky you're a hottie, otherwise I'd probably hate you for being so good at everything.

Have any of YOU seen any of Zach's work? Let me know and I can turn in to 'obsessive fan girl' all over again!

Inside the Mind of a (Crazy) Cat Lady

Warning: These are the the things that I think about when I'm in that weird, not quite awake, half dreaming place . . .

Imagine for a moment that there were no domestic cats in the world.

No Persians, no tabbies, no orange tiger kitties. No moggies, no tuxedos, no calicos. They just never existed.

Now, imagine you went to the zoo, and you saw the big cats prowling around, all majestic and such:

You would look at these guys and would think to yourself "My word, those are some fanciful beasts! What a pity there isn't a teeny tiny version of them that I could keep in my own house. It would be like a mini horse, except a feline - just a small tiger that I could tussle and play with, but it would fit in my apartment and wouldn't have the ability to kill me."

(You would so use those words!)

Can you imagine how unbelievably cool that would be?! To have a perfect mini lion/tiger/cheetah/panther just WALKING AROUND YOUR LIVING ROOM?!

You'd all be like "I just happen to have a freaking miniature lion curled up next to me. Clint likes to be the little spoon." (That's right, I named him Clint)

Mini cats. Pretty much the best thing that could ever exist in the universe. AND THEY DO.

Well played, world. Well played.

My Bucket List (Is Not Normal)

Confession time: I hate bucket lists. 


And 30 before 30 lists, and vision boards, and any other kind of seemingly trite goal setting device. 


It's not that they aren't worthy asprirations for one's life. And hey, if I didn't set deadlines, I'd never get anything done. But there's just something about hearing someone list off a bunch of clichés like 'visit six continents' and 'learn two new languages' that make me involuntarily roll my eyes and dry heave a bit.


You know what my goal is? What my vision board looks like? (Under the above circumstances, I'm sure you'll be surprised that I have one)

Like this:

It even has buckets! (See what I did there?)

Would all the ridiculous, generic things on those lists really make you happy? Would running a marathon, just to be able to say you did, really bring you joy? A bit of pride, perhaps - (and I know there are those of you who actually do get off on running long distances, though I'll never claim to understand you) - but setting goals like that seem more about making you feel good about trying to be a better person than actually about enjoying life.

I hereby propose that instead of trying to climb a mountain, or read 50 books in a year, or teach yourself Swahili - why not make a list for the things that actually make your life more fun? The thing that actually make you happy?

I'll go first. Here are some of my most pressing goals for the foreseeable future:

1) Turn in to a crazy cat lady WITH a boyfriend. Let's face it, life's more fun with a cat, so sure 10 cats = 10 x the fun. Although I'm not sure having 10 cats could make up for a lack of sex, so Mikee is safe.

2) Make a ridiculously funny person laugh, like Greg Davies or Michael Mcintyre (a girl can dream). Actually, I HAVE made Rob Brydon laugh, so I could technically tick that off of my list. 

3) Accidentally (or by way of stalking) bump in to Rupert Grint, who then lets me ruffle his hair. And then mimes 'Lego House' to me.

Is this shall of me? Perhaps.

I may never go skydiving, or do a triathlon, or write my memoirs.


But I will spend every minute of every day I possibly can striving to be happy, no matter what shape or form that takes. And I don't feed bad about that. Not for one second.

What would be on your Bucket List?

Samantha Brick: Self Confidence or Self Delusion?

For anyone who doesn't know, this, is Samantha Brick. And this is the delusional article that she penned. 

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and in Samantha's eyes, she is no doubt of her beauty.

I'm sure that if the quite frankly, better than average Miss Brick were to read the opening line of this blog, she would probably assume that I am riddled with jealousy. After all I am shorter and heavier with darker hair. This is not the case though. Whilst I am happy to admit that I'm jealous of her figure, I think I'd rather look like Lily Savage than be tainted with her self delusion. 

When I think of the word beautiful, I think Marilyn Monroe or Scarlett Johansson. Sure, had I seen Samantha Brick walking down the street, I would probably think she was quite attractive, however, it's her delusional attitude that astounds me. 

Would you really find this woman a threat?

I have a countless number of friends that are so drop dead gorgeous that they wouldn't look out of place at London Fashion Week. Am I jealous? Of course! Am I going to cut them out of my life? Hell to the no. Not least because they can do a good job of making me look half decent, but also because they aren't smug with their perfect skin and shiny hair.

"Over the years I've been dropped by countless friends who felt threatened if I was merely in the presence of their other halves.

Unfortunately women find nothing more annoying than someone else being the most attractive girl in the room"

I suspect it's less to do with her appearance and more to do with her attitude/personality and the way she treats other people.

She may be attractive, she may be slim, but self importance of that degree is ugly and it seeps from her every pore. So Samantha, if you're reading, go and hide in a closet somewhere until this dies down. If your inflated ego can fit of course.

When Karma Bites Back

I'm a firm believer in karma. Although I'm not entirely sure how it works. For example in 'Friends' Phoebe knocks down a woman on a bike and Ross mentions Phoebe's belief in Karma. Her response? "I wasn't talking about her karma!"

That's the thing. What if you actually haven't done anything wrong and something happens to you? Does that still fall in to the realms of karma?

Anyway. 

I was grumbling under my breath yesterday about the guy in front of me on the pavement because he was walking really slowly and seemed to be taking up most of the pavement which was preventing me from getting home after walking in agonising wedges all day.

Yep. I was being a moody cow. (But, like I said - sore feet!)

The outcome? As I finally stalked past him in overtake mode, I somehow managed to trip over my own foot and stubbed by toe on the ground. Ouch.

Karma's a bitch.

Although people who walk slowly and get in my way are STILL annoying as hell, and no amount of bad karma will stop me from thinking that. Sorry!

Has karma kicked your arse recently? Please share!

Can't Live, If Living Is Without. . .

Unless you've been living under or a rock (or just don't drive or get the bus or train anywhere - in which case you probably do live under a rock) you'll have noticed there's been somewhat of a petrol shortage this week with thanks to the pillocks of parliament.

Several of the idiots that are meant to run our country instead caused it to descend in to mayhem. Maybe they were missing the fun of the riots from last year? When you look at it that way, I don't think David Cameron could run a bath, let alone the country.

I often think about what would happen if we ran out of certain items. Apparently if all 31 million cars filled their tanks with petrol during this period, it would only take 14 days for the country to run out. Which got me to thinking, what things would I miss if they were to run out:

Dry Shampoo: This magic in a tin has saved my bacon (and by that I mean hair) on many occasions. This is mainly attributed to laziness. I've spent many a night trying to force myself out of bed and in to the shower. But the outside world (outside world = outside of the bed) is a cold one. Dry shampoo wins.

Cats: I know technically it's not a purchase you would make on a regular occasion, but believe me, if I could I would. And just think how cold your lap would be without a companion.

Fajitas: Could you imagine a life without this spicy goodness?! Given that it makes up a good 60% of my diet, maybe it would benefit my waistline if they did sell out.

Meooooow

Oh, I though I'd have more than that, especially given my obsessive nature. I suppose I should probably put things like toothpaste and deodorant y'know so that I don't actually start to resemble something from 'The Jeremy Kyle Show'.

I did ask Mikee for some input on this and he quite plainly told me 'nasal strips' (refer to my previous post) - along with some quite rude ones - what a charmer.

What are the things that YOU couldn't live without?