Bah Bye Writing 101: Day 20 – The Future

giphyWriting 101 – Day 20 (Friday 2nd October 2015) – The future

Okay so I skipped out on half the Writing 101 prompts in this series because I’m a bad and lazy person.

It did get me writing on the reg though so I can’t say it’s been a waste of time, and it has had me snarking a lot with Jill (seriously, some of the prompts have been so corny)! So I’m chalking this one down as a success, why not?

The future though? Hmmm.

All I really know about that is that it’s coming (if I can avoid double-decker buses and flesh-eating toilet dwelling spiders) and I haven’t the slightest idea what the fudge I’m doing in it.

Is it okay if I just plod along as I’m doing now and hope for the best? I can tell you with certainty that I won’t be having a baby or running a marathon.

I can tell you that I hope in say, a year, to be in a better place fiscally, my husband still likes me (obvs he will) and that I’m feeling healthier. Maybe that I’ve finally gone on holiday and don’t feel bad about it.

I’d like to tell you by then, but anytime soon is grand, that I’ve learnt not to be so stressed about everything (literally everything) and that I’ve learned to bat away as much anxiety as possible.

I’d like to have muscles, to maybe be doing another job or if not that then be writing, in a more professional capacity. I’d like to have finally seen Southpaw. I’d like to have at least started Mad Men.

Go on then, Cheri, I’ll do one of your prompts.

I believe that my future looks . . .


I choose happiness. Sure, curve balls are always thrown and pure shit happens but I’m ready to take all that and still choose happiness.

I deserve it. We all deserve it.

So there. Over and out Writing 101.

Writing 101: Day 10 – Update Your Readers

Picture stolen from Tumblr

Writing 101 – Day 10 (Friday 18th September 2015) – Update your readers over a cup of coffee

I was going to write a long thing about how boring my life is in comparison to my friends’ who all go on dates, have scandals and generally live the dream any which way they fucking like (in the good way) and then I stopped myself. I mean, so sue me for being a boring old fart.

Sue me for picking reading a book over dancing in a fountain. Sue me for not having ten holidays a year and spending my money on dresses instead.

Sue me for staying in on a Friday night with Gogglebox instead of going out for dinner.

I’m free-writing this and can you tell this is an inner monologue? I battle with myself all the time, ever since a friend made me cry because I thought she thought I was boring. I’m sure she does think I’m boring – I am boring.

But ever since, I’ve looked at my life the way others might, and it’s making me paranoid. I feel I have to justify everything and I’m not going to do that anymore. It all goes back to comparing yourself to others. Don’t do that.

Focus on your life and the things that are important to you. My family is important to me, and so are my friends – so are naps, pizza and crime novels. Films. Hula hooping. Tom Hardy’s lips. My cuticles. And Netflix.

So what have I been up to?

This morning I watched a video of a squirrel trying to bury an acorn in a dog’s fur, while the dog looked on, too polite to stop him.

We had a collective discussion about the internet and how good/bad it is and I had to explain to Tom who Technotronic are/were.

Then I listened to Neneh Cherry’s Raw Like Sushi while trying to write some uninspiring copy. Don’t dare tell me I’m not living my life!


You guys seen Broad City? If not, I think you should get on it. If for no other reason than so you get all the gifs I’ve used for the last three posts. Ilana is my heart but I feel as though I’m definitely more Abbi.

This weekend I intend to spend several hours with my BFF in her new house (which she’s just bought, on her own, at the age of 30!), eating baked breakfast goods and christening it by viewing YouTube videos under her new roof.

Then I’m going to eat some more and try and get through The Good Girl which is thus far a little slow, not going to lie.

On Sunday I’m reviewing Whiplash (2014), finally, with Jillian. We each have a free pass before Halloween and the Big Fat Horror Collab 2015 begins.

And that’s me.

How about you guys?

Writing 101: Day 9 – Reinvent the Letter Format

This, except naked
This, except naked

Writing 101 – Day 9 (Thursday 17th September 2015) – Reinvent the letter format

I’m reinventing nothing this morning. But I will do the assignment.

Dear Neighbour,

I’m sorry you saw me naked.

Actually. No.

You’re welcome.

Love from 1A


Writing 101: Day 8 – In Lieu of Today’s Assignment

I couldn’t be arsed with today’s Writing 101 assignment (something about expanding on comments).

I stayed off work because I felt shitty and all I really wanted to do was watch Monsters University and loll about in my pants, wishing there was someone around to douse me in sympathy.

So sorry about that. Instead I give you this image:


How true is it though?


Writing 101: Day 7 – Hook ’em with a Quote

Writing 101 – Day 7 (Tuesday 15th September 2015) – Hook ’em with a quote

Today’s assignment is pretty cool. Big fan of the written quote. But what to use and why? That is the question. My first instinct was to use this one:

“Comparison is the death of joy.” ~ Mark Twain

I like this quote because it’s so true, and I drop it a lot, although I thought it was the ‘thief of joy’.

Compare yourself to almost anybody else and you’ll find yourself lacking. “Oh god, look how much she’s achieved!”, you might cry as you look down on your own life; 37 years of absolute nothingness, despite the fact that someone, somewhere is probably envying something of yours.

I compare myself to people I know and love all the time and it has to stop. We’re already conditioned as women to compare ourselves unfavourably to models and actresses and minor soap stars, or anyone for that matter. If we didn’t, perhaps we wouldn’t be so insecure and then what? The beauty industry (and the rest) might topple to the ground.

Imagine if we loved ourselves without question and didn’t feel the need to eyeball every female within spitting distance (God, I hate that!). Which leads me to my second quote, inspired by this amazing image:


“I really love me. I adore myself.” ~ Japanese artist, Yayoi Kusama*

That quote is everything. We can all pack up and go home, Yayoi has shut down the internet. Fucking outstanding isn’t it?

“I adore myself” is the mantra we should all chant in the mirror as we bodge up our winged liner/decide against brushing our hair/squeeze spots.

“I adore myself” is the tiny tattoo we should all have inked discreetly, or not so, about our person. I couldn’t love it, or her, more.

Then I thought of my ultimate favourite quote and I thought, why not, eh? It’s relevant to my current state of mind, and to my every day. So here it is:

“Out of the ash I rise with my red hair and I eat men like air.” ~ Sylvia Plath

giphyYas Queen! This couldn’t be more relevant to me if it tried. I’m still cross about an incident at work with an aggressive (and stupid) male and this rage is coursing through me like poison.

It probably wouldn’t be if it hadn’t been swept under the carpet and he wasn’t acting like nothing’s happened. I’m good at moving on when I’ve been able to get it out of my system but this pussy hasn’t even got the balls to apologise.

The thing is, I’m not exactly what you’d call an alpha female. I’m beta and absolutely fine with that. I genuinely believe for every leading lady (or man), there’s an equally as important Director of Photography, Sparky or Screenwriter. Not everybody can be bolshy. That doesn’t make betas weaker or any less important. I have strong opinions, I just know when to voice them and when not to waste my time on battles that don’t matter.

Strength comes in many forms and sometimes it’s just about getting up again and again, and getting on with it, rather than shouting as loud as you can. Still, every so often I fantasise about being more of a warrior. If I were, that pathetic tool at work would currently be a smoking pile of ashes. But, professionalism, innit.

And I’ve just realised that I’ve given you 3 for the price of 1. You’re welcome.

Happy Tuesday, all!

*Kusama also said this, which is wonderful:

One day I was looking at the red flower patterns of the tablecloth on a table, and when I looked up I saw the same pattern covering the ceiling, the windows and the walls, and finally all over the room, my body and the universe. I felt as if I had begun to self-obliterate, to revolve in the infinity of endless time and the absoluteness of space, and be reduced to nothingness. As I realized it was actually happening and not just in my imagination, I was frightened. I knew I had to run away lest I should be deprived of my life by the spell of the red flowers. I ran desperately up the stairs. The steps below me began to fall apart and I fell down the stairs straining my ankle.

Writing 101: Day 4 – A Story in a Single Image


Writing 101 – Day 4 (Thursday 10th September 2015) – A story in a single image

Don’t tell me what to do, WordPress!

Kidding. Obviously WordPress has been given free reign to boss me around as it sees fit for the next four weeks. However, I didn’t like any of the pictures showcased in the assignment so I chose my own. What of it?

I like this picture above because it makes me smile. Look at my silly husband with his eyelashes, so long that they brush against the lenses of his glasses. Look at him grinning like a loon. Look at me caught unawares by the flash, trying to comb the dreadlocks out of my bird’s nest.

We had a series of old school pictures taken in an Automatic booth in the open market last week and to say I was unimpressed with how old and chubby cheeked I looked in the finished articles is an understatement. It was not a good discovery for me, to learn that vintage B&W makes me look twenty years older than I am (I was envisaging a more Liz Taylor aesthetic, if I’m honest) but it was also a shock that I cared so much.

I try not to be vain, especially when I’m goofing around with my loved one. I mean, who cares if you look like shit when you’ve laughing your tits off? It couldn’t matter less in the grand scheme of things. I’m not militant about being tagged in Facebook pictures, and if I take 88 shit selfies before I land on the perfect one, I tend to blame my surroundings. Obvs.

But this made me want to cry. “I’m an ancient moon face!” I wanted to shout into the face of anyone who walked past me. I didn’t but that was the general mood. For about a second.

Glynn told me to pull myself together and we got on with our day. I destroyed the evidence of course, but on second viewing I rescued this one. It’s great because he’s laughing at me being a twat in front of the camera. I’m combing out my hair because I do care how I look sometimes and my tattoo looks freaking great.

What else really matters, eh?

Writing 101: Day 3 – One Word Inspiration

Writing 101 – Day 3 (Wednesday 9th September 2015) – One word inspiration

Today I am so loosely basing my post on this Writing 101 assignment that you could almost say I haven’t really done it at all. But I’m hoping it will all come together in the end.

Anyway, as so often is my defense, this is my blog and I’ll go off on a tangent and spout shit if I want to.

The word I picked is “Love”.

But rather than waffle on about my adorable husband and how perfect married life is, how photogenic the two of us are and how we never fight, I never fall over his shoes, he never gets annoyed with me forgetting the important details of almost everything he’s ever told me: I thought I’d focus on Love of Self, because I think it’s one of the most important fucking things in life tbh. So when I say “Love” in the context of this post, I mean me.

I ❤ Me.

New sneaks

Now I’ve got these babies (above) and the temperature has dropped (praise Jesus), I’m thinking of trying to run again. How’s that for self-love?

I recently heard about The Fat Girl’s Guide to Running and I thought it sounded pretty good. I’ve also downloaded the NHS Couch to 5K app to my phone to see if I can’t get to grips with slowly pushing myself a little further. I’m definitely in the market to exercise more, whatever my core activity ends up being, beyond hooping in the yard.

Alas, I’ve been in masses of pain for a fortnight with a bad arm. Self diagnosis has ruled it an RSI but I’m going to have that confirmed/denied by the doctor tomorrow before I make my moves too energetic (and award myself a doctorate). I’ll be somewhat annoyed if I come out of there without at least a small bandage.

So watch this space. My new regime is purely about core strength and over all self-care. If I start talking about weight, you have my permission to slap me. I’m so sick of weight and calorie talk, food being assigned moral values and fat shaming (or body shaming of any kind).

My body is bloody glorious now, it just needs to be taken outside and exercised, like a horse. Or a panther.

So today I am feeling all the love for myself.

I hope you do too, because take it from me, you’re freaking beautiful ❤