a blog about an Essex girl living in Swansea, chatting about baking, rowing, other bits and bobs, and some crazy teaching times in India

Tuesday, 12 February 2013


A pocket full of posies
Ah-tissue! Ah-tissue!
We all fall down."

This may be the first Pancake Day where I'm not craving pancakes. Something is definitely wrong. I think that would have been blatantly obvious to anyone who entered my room this morning. I've been struck down by the plague - tissues littered the floor beside my bed, medication was stacked up on my bedside table, and I was sniffling away under the covers, feeling a bit more than sorry for myself.

I made the decision that today would be a bed day from the moment I woke up. After a less-than-inspiring phone call with my father ("Nay, you need to step it up"), I wasn't exactly raring to go. But after managing to drag myself into uni (looking more stunning than usual, red nose from all that sneezing and hair that was crying out for a wash - I showered, don't worry, just didn't go the whole hog in the bathroom this morning); I felt it was a rather pointless trip.

I hate being ill. I also hate ill people. It's a good combo, isn't it? Moaning comes top amongst my favourite hobbies, yet moaning about being ill is definitely one of my pet hates. How ironic. "I'm dying," "I feel like death," "I am a complete and utter minger," being my most used phrases at the moment. I love the word 'minger,' makes me feel like I'm eleven again. It's such a stupid word. If words can be stupid.

So to put it simply. I highly dislike myself right now. I will only be happy once my body has ridden itself of this disease. C'mon viruses, move onto the next victim already, I'm bored of you now.

Then I might feel like eating pancakes.

Big love, xo.

Sunday, 10 February 2013

Big Love? More like Big Loser.

February the fourteenth. That day is a killer for all singletons, I'm sure. I may have already stated my current stance on relationships/dating/couples... They're big fat cliches, mostly, and I dislike it when people are overly public and cringey. I'm mostly just jealous, to put it simply.

So my email account is already piling up with Valentine's-associated junk; everyone is at it. Tesco are offering me discount wine to woo my potential lover, and even the National Union of Students - NUS - are suggesting food deals for that 'special' evening meal (trying to fit in with the student ideals and offering Dominos vouchers. If someone did that for me, I don't think I'd be entirely impressed. Though I'm not exactly in a position to reject anything right now). Why is this day become such a significant event in our calendar? I remember when I was younger it was important, sometimes even part of lesson plans in school, where we'd make cards, normally for our mothers. But it was never marketed to this extent.

I'm having a moan because I want a boyfriend for the night.

They should have a rent-a-boyfriend service.

I wouldn't mind having a snuggle with a boy, watching a rom-com, stuffing my face on rich foods and getting tipsy on some fancy wine, or perhaps even pushing the boat out and sipping away on some champagne. Oh, and being presented with a big fat bouquet of roses. And another thought, I wouldn't mind someone popping over to wake me up in the morning, with a tray of breakfast specially prepared (I wouldn't even expect eggs Benedict, porridge will do me fine, honestly).

I don't ask for much, really.

But a romantic night in with my housemates munching on an Marks and Sparks Dine for Two will do, I suppose.

I'm joking, I'm mega-excited. Who needs boys? Totally going in for the 60's feminist movement. Going to burn my bras and everything.

This is my kind of love. Cake, you spoil me.

Big love, xo

Friday, 8 February 2013

February 8th

"Big Issue, Big Issue, Big Issue, I saw an angel, Big Issue, Big Issue..."

I hope that was me you were talking to, you made me smile for the rest of the day.

Big love, xo

Tuesday, 5 February 2013

Baring It All

I read a post by another blogger talking about weight. Weight issues are a big, scary topic. In today's society, there's so much pressure to be skinny and toned, to have that hot body that is so sought after (and I think doesn't actually exist, unless we begin living in a world of Photoshop. Oh wait. The magazines are doing that already).

I'm not going to lie, I am constantly assessing how I look. I can sometimes go days without checking anything but my face in the mirror, but other times the mirror is necessary. I take off my pyjamas rather gingerly and look at myself naked, standing to the side and rubbing my stomach, worrying myself over whether it is bloated, or sticking out more than usual, or just fat in general. It's the pressure of society, I think. I constantly feel the need to look slim, as if people are judging my personality on how much I weigh.

It's kind of disgusting if you think about it.

People shouldn't be judged on just how they look, but sadly first impressions are mainly based on how you're dressed, if you're smiling, and of course, how chubby you are looking. That's if you're shallow of course. I sincerely hope the entire world is not like this.

If anyone mocks my weight, or makes a negative comment about it, it plunges me into a state of despair. I'm getting better at that now though. Baby steps, that's what it is. My idea of a big achievement is having three meals a day, plus snacks. I feel so healthy, I feel so proud of myself.

You see, I used to be really bad with my eating. To the point where medical advice was involved. I'm not going to discuss it too deeply, as I do feel like it reaches the undesirable point of being too public on the world wide web, but if anyone wants to chat to me about it, feel free. I'm just one of many that do end up succumbing to the pressure of the media image. I was obsessed, to put it bluntly. After putting on a lot of weight about two years ago, I made drastic changes to my diet and kind of abused my body. It's hideous now to think about, because it only served to change my personality, making me someone I wasn't particularly keen on. I was snappy, I had a lot of mood swings, I saw a different person in the mirror. I think we all have an element of body dysmorphia within us, however I think that some people are more susceptible than others to take that to the extreme. It's frustrating to know that everyone around you is seeing something different to your own eyes. You feel deceived, annoyed. Stuck. It's a difficult spiral, and you head down and down until something, or someone stops you.

Thankfully I did have that something to stop me. I was intent on helping myself, as I was beginning to become repulsed with what I was doing. But you realise that you can't do it all on your own, no matter how strong you may think you are, or no matter how proud you are (asking for help is not a weakness). I had that little push from others around me; my family, my friends, my boyfriend at the time. It all pushed me to be 'normal' again. I'm good now, I'm really good. Took it's time, but I'm there. And I'm so ridiculously proud of myself.

Happiness is the goal. Not being thin. Being thin might make you look good, but do you feel good as well? Starvation isn't a valid dieting method. Nor is any other form of bodily harm. Because that's what it is, isn't it? It's playing around with your insides, tricking them and pushing them to their limits.

My housemate is very diet-conscious at the moment even though I think she is stunning, and doesn't need to lose the weight. She's trying weird methods for fast weight loss. I don't believe in that though.

Stick to a gym plan. Go for runs if not. Eat sensibly. You're allowed to stuff your face with chocolate if you want to, just make sure you eat well the next day. Don't succumb to the constant temptation of takeaways. I'm not going to lie, but I would say my willpower has been pushed and pulled to almost breaking point over the past year or so. Resisting is what I have to do. It's something that works. Even if I do go on a carb-party with my cupboard, I know that all I need to do is make sure I eat a little less the next day, or maybe go for a mega cardio session in the gym, sweating it all out. It's about balance. 

This post didn't have much structure, it was more an overflow; everything inside is bubbling out in little bits, not necessarily in the right order or even worded the right way.

Beth Ditto of The Gossip - She's amazing, she won't change for anyone.

All I'm trying to say is - it's not all about how thin you are. Curvy is the way forward. I think those women are the most beautiful, as they're full of energy and glowing, not crippled with hunger and pale as a sheet. Also. Think about it next time you insult someone weight-wise. You could be doing a whole lot more damage than you realise.

Model-like gap between your legs? I'd rather a pot of Ben and Jerry's, please.

Big love, xo

Saturday, 2 February 2013

Well, you do ramble.

Weekends where you can get away. People who are genuine. Feelings that can never be invented. Faith that can never be lost. Love that is everlasting. 

That's what I feel about the last 24 hours.

Now, completely unrelated.

I want to write a post that's going to delve further than I ever have before. I want to tell people things that I like to bundle up. I read a brilliant post by another blogger and I want to write my own. Let's call it inspired.

I'll explain some more tomorrow, when I'm not falling asleep or clutching my belly as it's developing a sizeable food baby (my eyes are bigger than my stomach).

Big love, xo