Valentines Shmalemtines

Valentines day is so shitty. It is a day to remind those who don't have a feller that you are sad and alone. I found out today that one of the lads I proper like and have had a thing with for 2 years has lied pretty much but omitting certain details.. the stupid thing is I knew it was coming.. just thought I would be told about it you know?

And to makes things even worse! I asked a guy if he wanted to do something tonight for Valentines.. and he immediately went silent. AND!!! my house mate has now put me in charge of entertaining her new boyfriend whilst she is out, and then banishing me to my room for the rest of the evening whilst he cooks her a Valentines day meal. Great.

Face it Rowlandez. You are doomed to a life of watching the soaps, eating cake whilst stroking a cat and crying.

10 days to the big City Uni interview and I'm pretty sure I'm wasting my time and money going there. I have £1.8k in savings and can save another £1k with this months wages. If I hand my notice in at the start of March, I can be gone by 1^st April and will have saved another £1k.. I can fuck off abroad of £3.8k right??? I'm sure I can get a work visa in Oz or NZ. I want to go to Melbourne quite badly.. Want to live there eventually.

Might have a cup of tea. Or an early night I guess. Do some reading on midwifery in case lol. I will be chirpier next time I blog. Promise.

I am beginning to understand the psychology of the Cornish Pasty

Oh you pastry temptress! Every time, without fail, the second I get to Birmingham New Street, regardless of the amount of luggage I have with me, I make a direct bee-line to The Pasty Shop climbing 2000 steps, grunting, most likely sweating and pushing foreigners out of my almost crack like withdrawal way. “Traditional Cornish Pasty please.. I'll have a small one and be good!”. It wasn't until today though that I really thought about the shape and consistency of a Cornish pasty and I have realised, the essence of it is remarkably similar to my own being!! I looked at this hot delicacy (which I am; Hot and a delicacy) and questioned why there were massive knots in it. I ate them and understood – the massive knots were keeping the good honest massive chunks of potato and meat inside the rest of the flimsy casing... think about it.. how much can you actually relate the consistency of this pie to yourself??

I have massive big bits about myself (physically – love handles, and emotionally – I'm a Freudian extreme).. I have “knots of pastry”.. and when these knots of me pastry are intact and not being eaten by a semi hungry but mainly just greedy person, all my good honest natural beefy potato goodness stays inside... I'm rambling. I can't really put into words what I mean but I understand it! I am a Cornish Pasty.. I'm with you!

Another thing that occurs when at Birmingham train station is I get to see what new wonders are in the council estates gardens!! Today, number 27 has a shopping trolley which has started to rust. Number 29 has its fence broken at the back, and number 33 has some new flowers in the conservatory which was erected about a year ago now.. what a difference a corner makes in the standards of living.

I've decided to spend more time with my blog this year because I can sense my constant Facebook updating is beginning to get annoying for some people. Really, I should block those people because I'm sure the people who actually want the updates appreciate them greatly and it is those I want my personal life updates to be directed at! However.. I am somewhat of a social networking exhibitionist and that is why I keep them.. Let the world of people I have no care for see the awesomeness that is me.

Spain was ace by the way! I didn't drink hardly at all.. I find it odd to drink around my family. I feel a need to be in control when I am around them. When I am out with like minded friends though, I am a complete drunken nightmare. Last time I was out, I fell flat on my arse and then back in the middle of the dance floor.. which was NOT full so I was in the open view of the entire pub. However, I am ecstatically proud to announce that my full jug of cocktail did not leak even a drop on the descent. I am magical! I did get FUCKED off my face on the first full day though. Only in the morning because I had hardly anything for breakfast and followed it quickly with 2 glasses of Cocktail Del Dai.. which I believe that day was 2 shots of rum, 2 shots of lemon sourz (or similar) and topped off with a teeeeny bit of Tango.. it was like ¾ full of alcohol and then the waiter sort of went “pucchhhhsshhh” under the drinks machine to put in the smallest bit of Tango. It was very good. I was shiiiit faced. Newton got the most random text messages like “GET ME A HOTDOG!!”... which was MENTAL because I was physically stood next to the snack bar that served them!! but demanded poor Newton FLY to Spain and get me one especially. Seriously.. nightmare drunked.

The hotel was nice! The pool was effin' freezing though. I was the only one who got in it and was the first one of the year so far I think. It hadn't been properly cleaned which is how I can assume I was the first one in.. There was a fuck off floating fly, some feathers and what I PRAY was a piece of water logged bread sat lolling at the bottom.. although there is a bit of me that is slightly certain it was more a dead animal. Let's not think about it. It also appeared to be Gods waiting room, confirmed indeed when the lift which only goes to the 10^th floor.. the last floor.. said it was on floor 25.... definitely most likely it had taken at least a few of decrepit to heaven.. I can't assume it was purely because the lift was broken because of the sheer amount of nearly dead pensioners there were there. I'd say nearly 700 of the guests were over 70... and smelt like old muff dipped in dehydrated piss.

I LOVED the plane drive as usual! It was fabbaroo. I got some beautiful shots of the sun setting over Spain and on the way back some gorgeous shots of night time Nottingham. Me and Kev turned out to be those passengers you hate! In the middle of the flight safety speech, we were just giggling and loudly whispering “do a flip!” and “juggle juggle!!”. David shat himself lol. He appears not to be a fan of flying.

Ooh just changed at Banbury and the woman I am sat next to smells uncannily like cat food. WOW just checked out her purse as well and she has well over £300 in cash!!... possible stealage..?? No.. she has put it away. Bollocks. May follow her if she gets off at Wyc but she is reading and filling in forms so I assume she is some sort of London like folk.

I've been thinking a lot about things I would do if I had a magic time altering button.. I think that is for another blog though. Now I am going to retire into my not so cosy seat on the choo choo and prepare myself for the 10 minute walk with the worlds heaviest bag to my flat. I'll seizures in little while.

Has thou offended thee?

... Oh Mighty Epilation God. Why must thou centre ones rath upon my white slash slightly tanned skin? What has one done to be punished so??

I'm on holiday on Thursday right, and there might also be the potential for a quick goodbye shag tomorrow so I figured I will epilate in preperation for both. And yet again, I have stopped half way through one leg to update one of the social networking sites I appear to not be able to live without, to complain about how much is TRUCKING hurts!!

Why?! In the age on curing HIV and having 3D TV in your own home is removing hair from ones body either a) excessively, unaccpetably expensive (lasers), b) a pointless waste of time because it grows back in 40 minutes (razors) or c) shaggingly painful??

You would think SOMEWHERE in the Amazon rainforest they would have come across of hairless tribes folk who would point and grunt in the direction of a magic plant, whose extract would kill the hair folicles.. but noooooo instead they find, breed and release giant spiders all over the show!!

So what do I do?? It is 11pm now - the machine to pluck out 15,000 hair a second is loud, I'm tired and I'm not quite sure if I'm full packed?! The answer is fuck it. I can shave the other one and a half of the leg tomorrow. Just have to get up a tad earlier. In which case I should go to sleep. See ya.

"Choose life"..

Awesome song, awesome film! But that is not what this quick Blog is about..

I just really wanted to say thank you to my friends and family. I love you all so much.

Thank you for everything you have ever done for me. I could never do enough to pay you back for making me feel it is worth it. Thank you.. and I love you xxxx

Why must we all have a master plan...?

And when I say "we" I mean just girls. Boys never want to plan anything or make commitments further then "I'll come over yours Friday maybe" on a Thursday night. The plans I want to make are ALWAYS life changing ones. I'm never, ever satisfied to know I am going to work tomorrow and that this will be the same for the rest of my life.

I think maybe it's because I haven't really experienced the big mile stones as such. I haven't got married, bought a house, had a baby. I've been engaged, I've rented a house and I've miscarried... the first 3 are all really positive and the last 3 all ended up pointless and useless.. so I guess I'm not satisfied by those events when they happen, which is why I feel no sense of security in the place I rent now, no feelings of joy that I have a couple of boys all chasing after me.. I'm trying my best to get to some place that I am not even sure I want to be.

I have chosen midwifery as my career because in some warped delusional thinking I have decided that is an easy option for me. I can't be a Doctor because I don't think I am clever enough. I can't be a nurse because I don't want to have to wipe up shit every day and whilst I appreciate that is a part of a midwifes job, at least being a midwife I know I am going to be part of something amazing at the end of it but with a nurses job.. I guess I don't know enough to know different but I see no way a nurse can be truly satisfied with being yelled at by mentally disturbed patients, ungrateful arses and taking orders from incompetent doctors.

I was going to be a teacher but then realised I really don't have the patience for an abusive teenager. But is it TRULY want I want??? What the hell DO I want??? It appears most of my friends are all settled and happy knowing they are going to be in office roles for the rest of their lives and that TRULY scares me. How, at the age of 20-25 are these people HAPPY and decided that being in the same office day in, day out is the career choice for them??? Honestly it baffles me.

Anyway.. I have been looking at houses again and trying to think about what I want. Do I want an investment property or do I want somewhere I can finally, truly and really call my own? To do up and decorate as I wish??? I think it is the latter. That house in Derbyshire is gorgeous butI don't want to live in Derbyshire. I have two more universities that haven't rejected me yet and that is City and Glasgow Cal. I have an interview with City on the 25th and still have no clue what I am going to say in it!! And Glasgow Cal haven't got back to me but have you SEEN how cheap the houses are there????

http://www.rightmove.co.uk/property-for-sale/property-32305985.html Look at this. LOOK AT IT!! A 2 bed flat for £22k???? I can buy that with a friggin loan!! I wouldn't even need a mortgage!! And I could get a room mate in to pay £350 inclusive of all bills and I am pretty sure that would cover the loan payment. So.. purely for prices of housing I have all my hopes pinned on Glasgow. Well not purely the reason. I do have other reasons but that is another story eh :)

I just want another fresh start. Wipe the slate clean. Be someone new! Change my hair style, change the way I dress.. maybe even change my name!! I want to be so many things and I am petrified there isn't enough time. I'm 25 and have 80 years of experiences to have.. I want to be a beach bum! I want to travel every beach in the world. I want to see every animal on the Earth. I want to go into space! I want to be a mum. I want to write a novel. I want to own a streets worth of houses. I want to raise livestock and sell its produce in a shop next to a tea room I run. I want to run a B&B! I want to be a wife. I want to be enough for someone.. not second best/usable when needed.

I am fit to burst. I want to go and stand on the Rye in the pouring rain in the middle of the night and shout at the trees! I want to thank them for giving me oxygen and for not shouting back!! Then I want to close my eyes, lie down in the grass and feel the rain on my face and listen to the rustle of the leaves.. and just not have to think for a minute. That would be lovely.

I was microwaved today!!

Eh up duck!! How do?? I'm alright thank you. Still tired but feeling healthy for a change lol. Did I tell you I had swine flu? That was hideous bad times. I hate having flu but at least I am better now.

I got my bonus and pay rise from work which, whilst it wasn't as good as last years, it is better than nothing and is going into the savings fund. Currently there is £340 in there but I am owed over £200 and with the overtime I am ploughing through, I am hoping to save about a grand a month. Not too shabby and I still get my Sunday's off!!

One thing I have started doing though is tanning in prep for my holiday in Spain on 3rd Feb! Today though.. blow me!! I was standing in the tanning booth for 9 minutes and nearly died. It was SO hot!!!! The friggin' fan didn't start going until like 8 minutes in so I was sweating like an actual beast. I seriously was expecting at 9 minutes to hear a *ding* and someone who with a fork would come in and poke me, looking behind them yelling "the spuds done!". I am however, looking very brown which I am enjoying.

As of Feb with the bonus pay I am joining the gym-a-roo! It is the Bucks uni one so it isn't up mount Everest (which mascarades as "Marlow Hill".) All the classes are included and everything so it should be pretty gooood. With the overtime though I'm worried I won't be able to attend any.. maybe on a Saturday when I finish at 5pm. I also want to join the cricket team for Wycombe if they will let me. That would be so cool! I need a hobby.

Another thing I need is some bloody voluntary work on a maternity ward... I dunno I just need something other than SQD. I don't want to there forever. I have been rejected from 3 unis so far but have an interview with City uni on 25th Feb.. wonder how that will go. I have a feeling badly lol.

Oh what to do! I best be off.. not a very exciting blog today because I am distracted watching Twister on ITV2! Cheerio xx

Stalking turns to reflection

Today I decided, whilst bored, to have a look over some of my facebook friends friends.. see what my friends are friends with! I have a couple of young friends on my page that I know mainly through my brother and I was having a look at some of the pictures they had taken and realised I really, really missed out on my childhood.

I did nothing but work and worry when I was growing up. I was constantly bullied at school, I had people to look after when I wasn't at school, and from my 16th birthday I was working at the same time as getting my A Levels. I was constantly skint because most of what I earnt I will be honest (and this includes pocket money) I sneaked it into my mum and step dads purses and wallets because I knew how badly they needed the money. I didn't need it for sweets and shit.. it was more important that they had some money to go the shops for tea you know?!

I was talking to Emily my new housemate the other day about childhood and things and I recapped on one of the most devasting moments I can remember. I had saved up £80 of pocket money and other money from doing the ironing evey week (used to get a tenner for doing it), and one day we went to go and live in this one bedroomed flat that was my cousins. The two boys were in the living room and me and mum would sleep in the same bed in the main bedroom. I had left my £80.00 savings on the side of the bed for food shopping because I knew mum was really really tight for money. I came back from school to get it.. and there was only £20.00 left in the jar. Some PRICK (who will remain nameless for peace sake), had stolen £60.00 out of my jar. I had enough to buy the lads chippy chips for tea and other little bits like bread, milk and stuff for school dinners. That day I just stood in the door way staring at the jar before I walked into the room, closed the door behind me and just crumpled to the floor in tears. Think I was 13 then.. and I think it was the sense of hopelessness that really got me. And the betrayal of someone you thought was family. Should of known even at that stage not to trust a fucking junkie.

But anyway.. the reason I am having this mini mental breakdown is because I was looking at these pictures of kids wearing teeny tiny shorts, lovely tops and jewlerry, holding a beer outside their tents with 80 other kids doing the same.. all smiling with perfect white teeth and size zero bodies!! Or in the park with their mates, or doing random things that I wish I could of done.. and just feel really gutted that I never had the chance to do it and now I'm too old.

As I just said to Vicky the things I want to do now.. no one else our age wants to do. Like I want to take a week off work to go and camp in Cornwall and take surfing lessons.. and go to festivals and getting fucked off my face in the park! or jump on a plane on Friday after work to Russia, have a night out in Russia, sleep with a Russian bloke! then go see the sights of Russia and sleep on the plane back... no one else wants to do these things!!

I want to go and drink cocktails in London. I want to see every city and experience everything. I just don't want to be 40 years old with no career, childless and homeless for the sake of doing these things now... So I'm in limbo. And wish I had done it sooner.