Girls Just Want To Have Fun

Welcome to my first look book. I’ve posted a few outfits here and there, but this is my first big look book. I’ve got a number of different styles of clothes and make up to give you some 80’s-inspo!

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Big bows!
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Peplum! (I’ styled mine a bit long here, but draping fabrics, often quite heavy ones, does the trick. I pinned my dress up with a velvet corsage. And don’t get me started on Polka dots!
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Body suits and leg warmers are the classic flash dance look but I really didn’t feel like I had the confidence to go for it. On seeing how many other flashdancers there were, and in what a variation of body size and shape, it’s easier to leave your insecurities at the door! I paired it with a polka dot headband, neon beads and arm warmers!
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Wild hair and side ponytails!
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Punk! Ascot, leather fingerless gloves with bows and studs, of course, fish net sleeve top and tartan skirt!
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Close up of that black action
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The body suit + I’m not even sure what that kind of fabric is but it reminds me of the outfits I’d dress my barbie dolls in as a child. It’s mermaidy, shiny and often in cool colours!
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Bright, tetris style eyes. All I’ve used here it a black liquid liner, and a pop colour pallet in pink across the lid, purple for the crease, a block of blue up to the brow, a sweep of green under the lower lashes and a dab of yellow around the tear duct.

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Here I’ve swept a deep line of pink under the lower lashes and dragged the colour down my cheeks to form a blush which fades into my natural skin tone. You could use blush, but I didn’t have the bright pink that I wanted based on some of the cool 80’s artists at the time.

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Big colour and a blue lightning bolt. I chose pink and blue to match my shoes :3 I used a blue eye pencil for the bolt and shadow for the main colour but for a bolder look, I’d recommend using a liquid/ cream eyeshadow.

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Big wings! Here i covered my lid in a light pink and contrasted that with purple in the crease and almost up to my eyebrow. I swept a wing of liquid eyeliner across my upper lash line and outwards. Then, I dusted my lower lash line with light green and carried that out with my liner.

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This was the look I chose for my 80’s night. I covered my entire eye area with pink and winged it out past the bottom of my eyebrow. Under my lashes, I then lined it with blue eyeliner. In the final look, I used a black eyeliner pen to define my lashes.

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Here I played around with the idea of contouring. I noticed that a lot of the big 80’s stars used blushers of bright colours so, using white, pink and deep purple, to get a more ‘chiseled’ look while also packing my face with colours. However, as you can probably tell, I am not very good at contouring. Yet. I am not very good yet. It would help if I could locate my cheek bones first ūüėź

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This was the look (or at least half of it) the my friend went for. This was a Lolly inspired look, using pink, blue and yellow. In the final look, I did away with the blue across the eye lids and made the stripes symetical on both sides, while creating some dramatic lash effects with the winged liner.

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This one was my more subtle favourite. covering the eyelid in pale blue and contouring the eye area with a brighter shade of blue below the eyebrow and where you would wing your liner.

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This was the second to last style I tried and it was quite late. I don’t have any professional lighting, as you can probably tell. I shaded the first half of my eyelid (closest to my tear duct) with pink, with a dot of green next to it. I then went around all of that with a blue eyeshadow and drew two horizontal lines extending from the bottom of my eye and going between those with a green eyeshadow like you’ll see in the next picture.

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Putting the make up together with an orange lipstick, with the dress I really thought I was going to wear. Damn those last minute doubts!
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My friend and I are now ready to parrrrrtaaayyy! Waved my hair for big volume, orange lipstick, and added a denim jacket and spiky leather collar for a bit of added coolness.
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Towards the end of the night now, and we girls were definitely have fun!

An After Note: I’m hoping that anyone viewing this doesn’t notice the fact that I still haven’t fully unpacked my belongings yet. The problems of moving into a smaller house than the previous one is that I just don’t have the room I’m used to!

I hope you’ve enjoyed this look book as much as I’ve enjoyed putting it together! xo

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Being a Pagan Student

This new academic year has begun and freshers has now passed. It was a hectic time for me and the other society council members as we put on the events and met the new pagan students of Falmouth Uni. By the end, I was asleep by 8pm and felt like death, narrowly deflecting Fresher’s Flu.

I had a hard think about what would be useful to the freshers. Being Pagan has a diverse meaning so we needed to cater to everyone. I recently saw an article about how freshers is all about drinking and it excludes new students, but that wasn’t the case at our uni, nor can I imagine that was the case at all. Our first event was a tour of the groups magickal, mystical and natural spots. I was pretty nervous throughout freshers as the society wasn’t really successful last year and I’d grown comfortable with the group. This year, we had freshers to get through and attract as many people as possible. The tour went well and lit up the imaginations of five freshers. We visited places such as The Grotto, a pond in the shape of a star with a war memorial near by, built by American Soldiers, surrounded by a tall wall of bamboo and near by a stream; a fertility statue built into a wall, hidden by trees, The Walled Garden, which encompasses an orchard; Tremough House Garden, a lovely italian-style garden which accompanies the old convent, and we ended with the Chaplaincy cottage, the hub of inter-faith relations.

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The Star Pond at The Grotto during the Chaplaincy Tour for Pagan Students

The second event we’d put on was a gathering for the Eclipse. I really did not expect 20-30 students to turn up, most of them with no idea on what was expected of them. I have never led a ritual for any more than three, so it was incredibly daunting and I didn’t intend to, as I’d written on the event ‘individual ritual/meditation’ so when everyone asked me what they were doing, I could have died. I did not come prepared, but I should have expected lots of non-pagans with no experience, really. The numbers after that fell, unsurprisingly. I apologise to those that thought I was going to lead a big dramatic ritual, with drumming circle, passing round a shisha pipe, chanting under the eclipsed moon, or whatever it is people do at festivals. In my mind, it was going to be something much more quiet and personal. The energy that was invoked however was amazing, a few other freshers picked up on it. I guess there really is strength in numbers.

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Just some of the students that turned up for the Lunar Eclipse gathering! 

The last freshers event we had was our Mabon feast. Mabon is the second harvest festival, a time for reflection, giving thanks and wining and dining yourself before winter comes around. It was a lot of fun. We went to Zizzi’s as it was easy, provided for lots of different dietary requirements and preferences and was no-fuss. We’d under booked.

As time goes on, as president I’m seeing a lot of pressure on me, again it was something I should have expected but coming from an ‘easy’ year or desperately trying to pull in members and not putting on any big events because of this, going from one extreme to the next was quite maddening, to fulfil spiritual duties. As president, everyone looks to you for advice and wisdom, something I’ve not before experienced. It was lovely though to see so many people interested in Paganism. Especially when I was told during my time as a fresher that it would not be popular. I’m having a lot of fun with this though and I’ve made a lot of new friends. It’s everything I was hoping for when I was a fresher.

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My new friends ūüėĬ†

xo

Transition: What I Did Last Summer

So, I’m back after a long stint away from the keyboard. I’m in my final year of university now and keeping myself incredibly busy. My modules are going pretty well, I believe that my novel should be finished by Christmas. After finishing the first draft and not looking at it for three years, I feel like I’ve now acquired the necessary skills to see what I was doing wrong and put it right. That was my purpose in coming to uni. It wasn’t like I came to Cornwall for the nightlife, or to get away from my family; or to throw money I don’t have in to an elitist institution for the fun of it. No, my aim was to have The Ascendant finished by the end of my stay here. However, my Novel Writing module seems to be just the catalyst I need to get the motions moving. It’s pretty damn exciting.

The summer, much like university, has been a time for transition too. I was working two very different jobs, I lost and found some core people in my life, not necessarily the same ones. It was a roller coaster from start to finish and yet, it didn’t really feel like anything happened. When I was asked what I did over the summer, all I was able to say was ‘work’, and yet, even just from work, I felt myself changing. It had been a couple of years since I’d been in a job and since that experience, I’ve not wanted to go back into retail, or employment. I didn’t like how vulnerable you were when working for someone. I didn’t like feeling like a punching bag for customers and the employer. I haven’t been back inside the shop since. I haven’t even been into the other ones I didn’t work at because all I thought of when I saw them was the bad stuff. How I’d cry, or fall asleep, or both, when I’d get home, if I was lucky. If I wasn’t, then I’d cry at work, making sure I’d shut myself away somewhere first. It can be hard to think of the good when there’s a lot of bad stuff about.

This summer, I was afraid it would happen all over again. I picked up some work as an Avon Rep, delivering to friends, family and the neighbours. I liked that job because I love make up, I liked not working for someone else and I liked meeting new people. That was the first step to gaining my confidence. The second was when my sister offered me a job at the pub where she works. I was hesitant and so anxious that I’d end up with a horrible boss and I’d have to plan a murder or something. Getting into the swing of things and getting to know my work mates took a bit of time but I did get confident and I was pretty good at what I did. The experience of earning money again was a thrill I had forgotten existed. However, I still didn’t have a large amount of money as seeing my friends and family was still top priority, despite having two jobs, because once you go to uni, you don’t really see much of people. You can’t afford to.

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My best friend Jess cheering me up on a night out after having a hideous time with a friendship break up. 

The best part was hanging out with my sisters. It’s somehow easy to forget how much you miss them when you’re busy working a lot and you realise just how much you’re not around to see. That’s the hardest part. I was able to have a lot of interesting bonding experiences with my family. The situation with my friends changed a lot too. It’s like the saying goes really: You win some and you lose some. I expected that if something like that ever happened, I would have been a lot sadder than I was. Don’t get my wrong, I was pretty hurt, but I felt a little prepared for it. Like all of the previous arguments we had had begun building up a wall for me. If it had come out of no where, it would have hurt a lot more. And at first I thought: ‘I don’t have any friends now’. Then I had to take a step back from what I’d been thinking, slap myself in the face, and tell myself to ‘Stop¬†being stupid, you’ve got loads of mates’. And I started to talk to and hang out with them more, alongside my family and I realised that when people love you, they don’t expect you to have to put in a load of effort all the time and they appreciate it when you do. When you love them, you want to but it’s not always viable. I’ve tried to show the same patience people show to me, back to them. I feel more secure.

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My sisters et moi lunching in my final week back home

The last phase of this transition was moving house. Same landlord, different house and a lot more problems. Will I ever rent from a private landlord again? No. If being at uni has taught me anything, it’s that landlords are more than happy to rip you off a bit of dolla and they think they are in the position to do so. *

Reflecting over the summer, I see that I have changed. Maybe not physically, maybe not deep down in my soul (I’m still forgetful, forever tired, and at times have difficulty concentrating) but I am wiser. My plans are becoming clearer and I’m coming back out of the shell that I’d put up over the last year. Now I’m back at Falmouth, I’m feeling much better for it. How was your summer? Have you felt a change of self? xo

 

 

 

Feature Picture by Cummings Photography

*I’ll probably write up on this further in the year

Boys, Take Note

Hello population, I’ve finally found something interesting to talk about in terms of the dating scene. It’s been a long while since I’ve written one of these articles and it seems like my advice may be required once again. Please excuse any possibly offensive/ obscene language. As soon as I find more PG terms, I shall change them.

Here’s the situation. Nice guy exists (often in the form of one of my friends), meets a girl he’s attracted to. Guy dates girl. Girl is not interested. Girl breaks up with him. Guy feels like it was his fault, maybe he’s just too nice or something and got himself friend zoned. Nah bro, the friend zone is not a definitive zone. You aren’t bound there forever. You can walk in and out whenever you like. You are in control of your dating situation. You just have to take control: Be confident, be dominant, be clear. However, there is a difference between showing dominance and being a pompous, over masculine ass. The issue here is generalisation. Not all straight women (ect.) want a guy that’s up front about who they are and what they want. Some like a shy guy, a guy that a woman can wrap around their finger or a guy that will step a side and let the woman wear the pants. Other women may want a guy to take that step. I will try and give you a few tips here on how to excel in the playing field, from a girl that has dated an array of different kinds of guys, none of which were ever able to provide the perfect dating tactics. There were always things that I, as a woman, would have wanted him (whoever he was) to do.

  1. The Friend Zone 

If there’s a girl you like, and have been friends with (and possibly even loved) forever then there’s a good chance she’s friend zoned you. She’s probably seen you as a brother figure, there to look after her and have fun with but not necessarily dating material. Which is weird, because that’s what most women want in a partner. The crucial part you have to play, is changing her perception. You’ll have to be careful and decide whether what you want is worth your friendship. How you change this perception is by being honest. Ask her on a date, and not just as friends.

Make it clear that you want to be her fella, not just her friend, her brother, because you aren’t her brother (hopefully not, in which case, this article may not be for you), you’re perfectly legible to date this girl and if she likes spending time with you then why not see if she wants to take the next step? Normally, I’d suggest a small romantic gesture, but you are not like other men. You are the Friend Zoned man. You already possess all of the habits and information necessary for a highly successful relationship with this woman. What you need to do is make her want you. Show her why you’re sexy. Show her why she shouldn’t want other girls. Show her things your other friends don’t get to see (I’m not sure what I mean by this, but maybe you do, after all, if you’re in this predicament, you may have someone already in your mind). It’s time to stop acting like the brother, and start acting like a possible lover. Enchant her, captivate her. Give her something to be jealous about, protective over.

If she really can’t see you in the way you want to be seen after that then it’s definitely time to move on, but at least you know. A bad truth is better than a good lie. You deserve happiness and it’s time to stop hoping that she’ll be the one to give you that.

2. The Nice Guy

You may be the guy, in a similar predicament to you fellow brother in the Friend Zone, however, this may be on a regular occurrence because you’re ‘just that nice a guy’. this is not a problem with you. Please don’t think you have to stop being nice to girls just because the ones you like keep friend-zoning you after a few dates. The world needs more guys like you. Back in school, as a woman, I too fell in to this category. One even dated my cousin instead, that was gut wrenching. However, hope is not lost you. Keep faith.

What you will need to do is go out and meet lots of new women. Maybe start on line, but joining local and national clubs and societies may also help. In fact, that’s more helpful. You get to meet someone that’s interested in the things that you are. It’s also a lot easier to ask someone after a club event, for a drink afterwards or a walk. Like the friend zoned guy, you need to prove to these women that you can be more than just the brother, more than just the friend. You need to show these women how much you can give and if she’s interested, she will also show you how much she wants to give you too. However, if she doesn’t, know when to walk away. Of course, be her friend, but if she’s not willing to put some effort in, then you don’t need to bother. You can’t make someone like you, or even love you.

So, do read the Friend Zone section if you skipped it, if will help inform this one. You bother need to sell yourselves and show why you are a desirable companion and if they like you, they will do the same. The issue with both kinds of relationship is a lack of dominance and confidence. You need to make your actions clear and feelings known.

3. The Fuck-Girl

I can’t think of an alternative name for this section so feel free to rename it in the comments. You should all know who I’m talking about though, when I use this term. The girl that messes you around, doesn’t know what she wants but is willing to hurt you a load of times until she realises. She realises it’s not you. Rarely does a girl ever decide after all of this dilemma, that what she really needs is you. If you’re in love with a girl like this. Stop, take a breath and run in the opposite direction. Not even worth it. She may seem like it, but she’s not. She’s simply using you to pass time until something ‘better’ comes along. 9/10 times, the next guy is not to your standard and you’ll sit there for days wondering which pavement she scraped this guy up from, but it’s fine. She’s not your concern any more, you’re free. Go out and find a girl that values you. Not all women are going to want to be your girl Monday to Thursday but prefer someone else Friday to Sunday, or perhaps, would rather be independent over this part of the week.

No reason she gives will make up for the way she is treating you. It’s selfish; she’s being selfish. You do not need to stick around or feel obligated to be there for her when, in two days later, she’s likely to be ‘too busy’ for you and you need to ‘take a break’. These women have not matured enough yet so it’s best to let them figure out who they are and what they want from life, by themselves. You may feel bad, or you may not, depending on how many times you’ve argued about it, but it’s best to give second chances and then walk away. Let her run after you and show that you are able to put your foot down. You’re a human being and you don’t deserve to be treated like that. She’d complain if it was the other way around. You have so much more to offer and you could be more appreciated elsewhere.

 

 

I’ll give you three types for now, I think. See if this is able to help anyone out. If you’ve got a situation, feel free to catch me on social media or whatever and I’ll reply via article. Thanks for reading! x

 

 

Getting Drunk in Falmouth Town

Hello everyone, so, I have never blogged whilst drunk, not have I blogged past lunch time but I guess this is a first in both occasions considering it is 3am and I’m pretty drunk although I have sobered up a bit. I’m not sure what I really want to say in this post but I guess I should start at the beginning like most stories begin. I went out with a friend and her friends, it was a great night, however, we got separated after getting distracted by another friend coming in, however, she soon disappeared and I ended up alone. Sure, Falmouth town isn’t huge or anything and the crime rate is low, which was one of the reasons I was attracted to it, but ending up alone on a night out is shit and I felt crap.

I sat down on a step and was ready to accept the reality that that was probably going to be my bed. Then I saw another friend and I thought: ‘Yes! Maybe she can help!’ Nah mate, nah. Some guy starts grabbing my arm, asking me for a kiss. I tell him I’m not interested as I’m engaged. He grabs my hand and starts pulling on my bloody ring! There I was drunk and confused, with no idea what was going on but I did manage the words ‘get off me.’ He starts talking about how I cant let people tell me what to do; well, there we go. Hypocrite. Anyway, I stumbled on through town and the only friends awake had just gotten home. I went to the takeaway to try and sober up when he comes in and looks right at me. Luckily, he didn’t come over but I did get anxious. I grab my food and go. I sit down on a bench because I had too much food to carry (they really over filled it, it’s marvellous!) and yeah, I ate. I ate until a bloke came over and asked for something to smoke, but I don’t smoke. He asks for a light. Again, I don’t smoke. He sits down and tells me his mums passed and it’s her funeral tomorrow. I felt sad for him. He asks for my name and where I’m from, I tell him. ‘You’re from Yeovil? I come from Bridport!’

‘No way!’ I exclaimed. I was so happy, finally someone from back home. So we sat there and talked for maybe around half an hour, about home and it brought a real smile to my face. He mentioned a well known family from back home and I asked if he knew mine. ‘Nooooo. You’re a Wiltshire? You’re not!’

‘I am,’ I laughed. We both marvelled over Somerset and Dorset and he told me about how much better Somerset is to Cornwall and Devon. I agreed. He told me all these stories from around the home counties and it just made me want to go home even more. We agreed that Cornwall is lush, but it just ain’t home! Bless him, he kept thanking me for giving him the time of day (or night) but it was me that was thankful. I was sad, alone and ready to just give up, but he reminded me of who I am and where I come from and that’s something I need to remember more often.

He stood up at the end of a story, to leave and gave me a hug. He asked me if I had friends back home and I said I did. Stuff like that could never happen in Yeovil, and I was grateful for that group of absolute babes. He wished me home safe and thanked me again. I walked home crying tears of joy for finally meeting someone that was:

A. From back home way and knew what it was like to miss it as much as I did.

B. Was as drunk as I was.

C. Actually asked if I was ok.

I guess in writing this story, I’d like to give this bloke from Porthleven with the broken hand, a big thank you. He’s probably never going to read it, hell, I’d be surprised if anyone did, it’s just another drunk white girl rambling, but it’s really nice to know that there is kindness in this world. No matter what your background is, no matter what colours you’ve painted your past with, there will always be someone out there that will make your day, or night, so much better and will send you on your way with a smile. Thank you Mr. that stays in Haselbury Plucknett sometimes, I hope our chat has made tonight and tomorrow seem a little brighter for you.

Sam, that flower from Yeovil.

It’s a comfort to know that family has always got your back, even when they don’t realise it. No matter what kind of connotations a name brings, connections are connections and that’s what’s got your back when you’re drunk and depressed in the middle of town at 3am.

The Struggles of the Larger ‘Regular-Sized’ Woman

I don’t really know what I want to talk about today, but I know that I do. Maybe it’s a way for me to subconsciously put off my essay research, but I hope not.
I was just browsing Facebook when I came across a post from The Curvy Fashionista about the launch of a new store, Lovesick, and I really love the look of it. What I find most satisfying is when I see a store with models similar to my own shape and size, working their clothes. This is more common with ‘plus size’ stores, like Lovesick, than with shops that stock the ‘regular sizes’. Which I find odd, considering they usually begin in the UK at around 18, maybe even 16, but America is a bit different. Lovesick begins at ‘US10’, which is a UK 14. I myself am 12-14. And yet, many of the ‘plus size’ models, mainly in America, don’t look ‘plus size’, just like larger ‘regular sized’ women and I say larger, in comparison to the smaller women that the shops here use to advertise their clothes on.

It’s quite confusing really, seeing these great clothes on women that look like myself, but are not actually stocked in my own size because I’m ‘too small’; which makes me laugh due to all I’ve ever heard in my life, except for 1 time in a million, is how large I am. And while clothes for ‘regular sized’ women look great on the small models and the hanger, I can never tell what it will look like on me. Half the time shopping is a nuisance. My thighs are larger, in proportion to my hips and bum, and my boobs are much bigger than my waist. Shops don’t account for any of these factors and the models for ‘regular sized’ clothing don’t seem to struggle at all. The clothes seem to fit like a glove or a second skin. The same can be said really, for when some of my friends go shopping. It can be so frustrating seeing how successful try-ons are for them, when the dress I really like in my size won’t even go over my chest.

Or likewise with the tall ranges, which to me are a rare occurance, other than New Look, I can’t even think of one without looking at hideously over priced shops. I remember the excitement of finally finding a playsuit that didn’t produce both front and back wedgies. It was plain black and pretty basic, but I was so happy. I have had struggle after struggle in terms of length, where my torso seems longer, in proportion, to my legs. I remember a day I went in to Primark with one of my friends, of the ideal ‘regular-size’, and we tried on some stuff and I fell in love with a ridiculous looking playsuit covered in gigantic sunflowers, as is my style, and it only managed to reach half way up my chest, without causing unnecessary discomfort and camel-toe.

I dream of the day when women of many different sizes can be seen modelling clothes and this confusion of being a larger ‘regular sized’ woman is no more.

If you are a US10 + I’d definitely recommend looking at these clothes from Lovesick, they are so gorgeous and I’m quite jealous actually.

The Maths Of Feeling Lonely

I read The Age of Loneliness by An Author’s Life, and this is supposed to be a bit different but aware of the mentioned text. I don’t know how to mould the content so I’ll just have to see where it takes me.

So, unsurprisingly this is today’s topic because I woke up feeling lonely today. I’d spent this weekend staying with one of my best mates from home who attends Plymouth University. There were laughs and there were tears. All in all, it was a great weekend. I find loneliness one of the most frustrating feelings of all though. I wake up without George (the fianc√©) every morning and it’s lonely. I go about my morning, getting ready and doing work by myself. That get’s pretty lonely too. The afternoon progresses, I might see people on campus. I might get a phone call from George, I might actually have social plans formed and yet, but that point, in can be pretty hard to know when to turn that switch off.

And I know, it’s not just me. This weekend alone, I realised that a lot of people around me feel it too. Being around people can be a distraction but when the distraction is over, you are left with yourself and for some people, that can be pretty damn scary. Some people say that the outside world is scary but I believe that our own minds are even scarier. At the end of it all, you are born alone and you die alone. There’s one voice alone in your head. It’s the internal that can be most dangerous.

View loneliness as a warning bell.

When you feel so sad that you can’t do anything and the silence gets too much, and the lack of company gets too much, it’s time to go find some. That’s not always something you can do, like me waking up alone in the morning. That’s something I have to endure until George visits again. But there are times when you can do it. If you’re at home, watching stuff or playing games, whatever it is, go and seek out those you live with. Parents get taken far too easily for granted. They are there to help you and they’d probably tell you you were being silly if they saw you choosing to remain alone when you are feeling lonely. Being around people doesn’t always help satisfy it, but it certainly can help. Especially when they are people that you are close with and trust. If they aren’t, then perhaps don’t bother with them.

last supper

The issue with loneliness is that it comes in so many forms. Moving away, losing a partner, losing friends, being overloaded with work, losing a pet, and there are probably ¬†loads more. Loss in general is enough to trigger loneliness, whether someone walks away or is taken from you, a hole, no matter how big or small, will open up in your life. Equally, other big events can make you feel lonely as you’re having to replace sociality with whatever is currently consuming your time. Social media and virtual experiences of people, aren’t enough to satisfy the need for actual human contact.¬†

I was going to call this ‘The Art Of Feeling Lonely’ However, loneliness isn’t like over thinking. It’s not something that takes you to places, regardless of if you want to go there. Loneliness just happens. It’s not tied to age or experience. At the age 6 I felt lonely. At the age of 15 I felt lonely, and now, nearly 21, I feel lonely. I’m dead sure that it won’t be the last time that I feel lonely either. So, I’ll call it an equation of maths instead, where loneliness is a feeling of subtraction in your life. Something has been taken away which has made you feel this void. It might even not be something you’re aware of. The subtracted could be you. Before this feeling, you may have enjoyed being alone. It’s something that many people are good at; but then something happens inside yourself and you realise that you don’t enjoy your own company any more. It happens.

The thing with maths, is that you can add things to your sum. When you feel something has been subtracted, add something, or someone. Experiment. The numbers you add don’t have to be huge, or daring. They don’t have to feel like a leap. There’s no point in over compensating. Do the maths that you can do and the loneliness should take care of it’s self.

Thanks for reading everyone (: See you soon xx

 

My Experience Of The Wedding Industry Pt2: Engagement Competitions

Hello darlings, I recently entered a local engagement competition on Facebook, you may have read ‘My Appeal‘,but probably not. it was something that popped up on my timeline from friends that had liked someone’s post in the competition group page. They had posted their engagement story and a picture of the moment. I thought it seemed like a lovely idea so I looked into it more. There were prizes: a photo shoot, a ¬£50 voucher and various small discounts off of local vendors. The couple that had caught my attention on my timeline had a lot of publicity and exposure on Facebook. I thought: why not and through George and I into the competition.

It was tough.

I had a week to get as many likes on my post as possible. What I realised was this was firstly a popularity contest, secondly a writing contest and thirdly (if you submitted a picture) a beauty contest. To ensure my success, I decided I had to write the story well. I had to have emotion and hilarity and romance. My story is romantic and funny, but not everyone can word things as such. I picked a picture George and I took at my mums on Christmas day a couple hours after he proposed. I had the goods ready and they were pretty high quality, if I do say so myself.

The problem I was going to have was with the popularity bit. I’m a pretty introverted person and often keep to myself despite the fact I come from a big family and have a lot of friends. I didn’t really think they’d help but I messaged them anyway. After this, I think I must have gotten between around 150 likes. The leading couple were at around 220 and it was daunting because they were a lesbian couple. I really did not think I stood a chance against a couple that were potentially getting their likes from the LGBT+ community Facebook groups. I posted all across Twitter and Tumblr, but nothing really happened there. I then remembered that I’m a Pagan; I’m a part of a tight knit community, too. I saw a huge influx of fellow pagan people coming to like the page and I really couldn’t feel any prouder to be apart of such a wonderful community. And then there was also all of the different uni groups I was apart of, finally, there was a benefit to being a student.

hat

And then Saturday night happened. The leading couple gained around 200 likes and I really did not think I could compete. I felt down about it but George through my phone to the end of the bed and put on a movie, which made me feel much better about it all! The next day, we went out and enjoyed our Valentines day together before he had to go back home. After he went home, I had a sudden burst of faith. I shared the post again everywhere, added more Pagan groups and got my family and friends sharing on Facebook. I went to Instagram and Twitter with #WitchAndTheAtheist, because these things are easier to find with a hashtag, no? I’d gained 250-300 likes. I was far too excited to get the early night I wanted. I won with 10 minutes short of midnight.

I had messages coming at me, likes going through the roof and adrenaline. I really couldn’t believe what was happening and I could not wait to tell George in the morning about what had happened over night.

Of course, while this was all exciting, it wasn’t without drama. Right before I went to bed, a competitor had read through my comments and appeared to be getting argumentative. this worried me a little, I was too tired and excited to handle conflict but I did so well, and with the help of a friend. It wasn’t until I woke up and checked my notifications that I really had to laugh though. Someone had reported my engagement photo for nudity. I thought it looked a little bit suspicious but I chose to ignore it. I won. I didn’t know who did it, but it didn’t really matter.

engagement

But I learnt a few things from this experience:

1. People go crazy for things that are free.

2. Where there’s a popularity contest involved, seek out a large group of people, just like you.

3. People will try and argue and even do petty things when you take things as seriously as they do.

4. Faith is a handy tool to keep about you.

5. There will always be another competition somewhere so don’t feel too downhearted if it doesn’t look like it’s going your way.

6. Entering competitions is a good way to pass a long engagement and keep excited.

7. If you have ulterior motives… such as a best friend having a unpleasant experience with one of the other competitors, this makes you even more eager to win.

Cheers for reading guys, hopefully this won’t be the first and last competition I enter, I had a lot of fun and I hope you have enjoyed reading pt2 and if you haven’t get checked out My Appeal, go for it. The competitions closed now but the post and story still remain. ¬†x

 

My Appeal

My lovely, handsome, beautiful, kind hearted, sweet followers, I would really like it if you could all flock to Facebook and like my engagement story. My fiance and I have entered a competition which ends tomorrow. It’s a small, local thing but we would really like to win it. So if you could all help us, it would be greatly appreciated.

The link is as follows: https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=10205823464213759&set=gm.183142375386271&type=3&theater

Thank you so much. Blessed be and be blessed all ‚̧

 

Home Is Where The Heart Is, So They Say

Heyo, so it’s approaching that time of year when students start panicking about where they’re going to move over the summer. After already moving several times since coming to university last year, I hoped to settle down here. I found a house I like. It’s not dirty of messy like the last one. I’ve got nice house mates unlike the first one. I have lots of space, George can come over whenever he’s able to, and it just feels perfect. However, I’ve been told I’m going to have to leave because the landlords have given my house to another group. I hoped it wouldn’t come to this because I was told current tenants would get priority. I’m a current tenant and I didn’t not get priority. So it looks like, what’s left of us, will be looking for a new house. I’m a little bit peeved, I know how manky and tiny students houses can be. I’ve looked round enough of them. I’ve come to the conclusion, from the three landlords I’ve had now, that none of them are any good.

If you are a fellow student I have some advice for you:

Make sure you know what you’re mates are like before you move in with them. If you’re like me, messy but considerate, it will drive you insane if one of your group leaves your communal areas in a mess frequently. At my previous house, this drove me insane. because it was all the time. It’s not so bad every now and again but living in a mess all the time is a nightmare. How are you supposed to organise your work if you can’t even organise your kitchen? If you’re unlike me, and doesn’t understand how to use a bit of Fairy and a sponge, I suggest you learn how before you get slaughtered, or alternatively, if you’ve got one, use a dishwasher. But, make sure you rinse stuff off first. My house mates and I found out far too late. I don’t want you to be susceptible to the same fate as ours.

Mould is a problem I didn’t even realise existed. I mean, in my last house, don’t get my wrong, my windows were grotty as hell when I first moved in, but I didn’t realise walls got it too, until this house. If that’s a problem you’ve got, I suggest a few things: First, wipe it all off with an old flannel and some Dettol Mould spray. That works pretty well for any new mould However, it will take some of the paint off of the walls, but that’s your landlords problem, not yours, hopefully. Secondly, when you have the heating on, unfortunately, you will need to open the windows a little. You’ve got damp problem and you need to heat that water up and waft it out of your house.

Food can be expensive and 99% of the time, I bet you can’t even be bothered to cook. You’re tired, you’ve been working hard (or not) and cooking isn’t even in your vocabulary. Nor is food shopping. But guys, you’ve gotta eat! If you’ve not thought of it, try doing a house shop. Each chip in ¬£5-10 a week. And do house meals, that way, you’ve got at least half the week where you’re going to be eating something good for you. Neither of my two previous houses did this. Well, the first one did, with my other house mate, but not with me and the second well, the living arrangements were as messy as our kitchen! In this house however, we did this and it was cool. it was nice to get to experiment and you got to try new things. Like, I’d never eaten lemon chicken before and my house mate’s was weird and delicious and while I didn’t like it, I really did and I wanted to stop eating it but I couldn’t… you get the picture? Keeping a house together is about team work. Your house mates need to be people you can depend on, work with and have fun with, of course.

I think that’s all of my student housing advice for now. I next want to talk about home. Home can be really subjective. When I say home, I can be talking about 5 different houses and yet none of them are really my ‘home’. My uni house can’t be considered home because I’m getting kicked out of it in 5 months. It’s a temporary solution. Home is something permanent. When I go back to Yeovil, I stay with my fianc√© and we move between his mums and dads houses. Neither of these feel like home either, because like my uni house, they are temporary. I move between the two regularly and then I’m off again to Falmouth. I recently realised that moving in with your boyfriend (or in my case, fianc√© now) and his family is an odd experience. I call it coming home, because I get to be with the one I love. However, it’s not quite home because I still feel like a guest; I don’t have a history there. It’s a new setting halfway through my story. I felt like that when I lived at my grandparents. It wasn’t my house, but someone else’s. they had different rules, different ways of doing things than I was used to. Then there are my parents houses.

My dad’s house is the one I grew up in as a child until about 14. That one doesn’t quite feel like home any more because: A. it has gone through many changes, B. The rest of my family aren’t there any more and C. It feels like so long ago since I lived there, I was just a kid. It’s got history, I’ll give you that, but it lacks something present, something now. My mum’s is the most like home out of all 5 houses. My mum’s there, my sisters are there, my dog’s there. I lived there very recently, before kind of moving in with George and I still go there a lot. It’s got more of a history and I’ve cooked there. That’s what I have decided the criteria for making a home is. Permanence + Memories + Being able to cook and clean comfortably + Family presence = Home. Family Presence can be taken out of the equation and still mean home, if you live by yourself, you can still be at home. You might have pictures of family or some kind of trace still around of them, they don’t necessarily have to live there with you.

I’ve been thinking about the idea of home and what it means to me personally, for a while. I wondered why I just couldn’t quite feel comfortable anywhere. I began thinking that I just didn’t belong any where and this made me feel very sad. I know now though, that all of these places are what makes up my home. I’m a bit of a traveller at the moment, moving from place to place, and I’m not quite feeling settled, but I know I will soon, once all of the temporary places get replaced for one permanent place. What’s your idea of home?

xx