be a filter, not a sponge

You know when you have those days that just get to you?  I just couldn't bring myself to leave my bed this morning, leading me to ignore every alarm and request from my boyfriend to get up. I didn't have anywhere to be until 3:20 and I needed to ease myself into this life of routine at a slow pace.  When I did finally set off, without breakfast or coffee, I almost collapsed by the time I reached campus. I guess whenever I joked about walking to uni being my only exercise, I was actually being serious?  A slightly depressing thought, but I'll manage. It was walking back that was the hard part though; I managed to get drenched by the rain, stand in multiple puddles and get a blister on each of my ankles. After recovering with a cheese panini, Vitamin Water and Torchwood in bed, I returned to my own house only to be greeted by a paper cut. Green Tea in my favourite Hanna-Barbera mug is yet to fix this day.  I think that sometimes lots of little bad things have more of an impact on your mental health than one horrific event.  And although I promised myself I would start doing something university related tonight, and not rereading my old favourite The Perks of Being a Wallflower, it's looking more likely that sweatpants and BBC iPlayer will be my calling.

I'm Still Breathing

After all those melodramatic posts leading up to my 20th birthday, I never did actually follow anything up to confirm that no one found me on the morning of my birthday hanging from my bedroom's light fixture with that skull scarf from Germany that I blogged about.  I'm still alive, in case you haven't guessed... or maybe that's a lie and I'm writing this from BEYOND THE GRAVE, either way, you haven't gotten rid of me yet.  This isn't to say that I got over my fears of being an adult, quite the contrary, every once in a while when I haven't kept busy enough I get this sinking feeling in my stomach and my pulse starts racing and I realise that I'm probably going nowhere in my life.  But this blog isn't supposed to be about me complaining, it is supposed to be about documenting my MEANINGLESS and PATHETIC little life on the Internet (balls... did it again).

So I start my final year of university next week.  Well, the welcome and introductory lectures start... and to be honest I'm already planning to skip two of them.  We're onto a great start, folks.  I am gonna try a bit harder with the literature side of my degree this year though, although judging by the reading list on my Contemporary Fiction module that might be easier said than done.  Anyway, I've probably been watching too much Awkward, seeing as I've deluded myself into thinking you people actually care about my life.  But I don't have two super-attractive-and-clearly-older-than-sixteen-year-old-boys in love with me (I'm totally Team Jake, by the way).  I do have a headache though, which is clearly just as enthralling and would make an excellent television sitcom.  Hit me up, MTV.  Bleh, I'm totally off topic... not that this post actually had one to begin with or anything.  But I guess we've come full circle now, back to my uncontrollable pessimism about my existence.  I'll leave you with a picture of what I wore to see Brave this evening, in grayscale to represent the inner torments of my soul.

(Topshop: skinny jeans, oversized denim jacket, hat; New Look: jumper; Thrifed: military rucksack)

Also, I wasn't that impressed by it, if anyone wants a film student's opinion on it... which I doubt.  I'm pretty sure that Animation History class I took last semester kinda ruined Pixar for me a bit.  That, and the accents reminded me of How To Train Your Dragon too much, which I think is greatest animated film of all time... even more so than Ice Age 3.  The naaaaaaaaaaame's Buck, short for Buckminster, long for BUUUUUUH.

Laaaaaateeeeeer.

End of Teenage Years Panic Attack

In case you haven't been paying attention to what I've been complaining about for the past few months, I turn twenty in five days and I'm having a little bit of a breakdown as I inherited a horrible case of Peter Pan Syndrome from my dad.  Since I came to terms with the fact I won't be able to travel back in time or delay my inevitable ageing, I'm trying to focus on everything else I hate about myself.  I've pretty much gone on a HEALTH KICK WOOOOO in which I've cut out my daily Coca-Cola and stopped eating bread and dairy and in its place I'm drinking lots of water and trying new fruit and things :3 It's pretty fun.  I'm also attempting to walk ~*~just for the fun of it~*~ and I may even invest in a treadmill if I decide I like it... but that's pretty much just so I can watch Netflix at the same time and also because my mother thinks I'll get raped outside.

Not to worry though, I'll be in London for Summer in the City in August and the YouTube gathering diet is the most effective weight loss tool you can ask for.  One meal a day and lots of walking for three days?  Sure, why not?

July Wish List: 20th Birthday Edition

I turn twenty at the end of this month, so to stop myself from crying about being a ~*~proper grownup~*~ every night/morning at five am, I resorted to stalking the Topshop website to remind myself about the only good thing birthdays bring: presents!  I always have bad luck on my birthdays, so I cling to the hope of presents to make it all feel better.  In addition to all of this, there was a gorgeous army jacket that seems to have sold out within a day... much like the gorgeous vintage Disney backpack I wanted before my stupid iPad didn't send me the notification to say it was ending on eBay.  Waaaah.  Anyway, I leave you with this very, uh, khaki inspired wish list which makes me wish that I didn't throw out the gorgeous camouflage print skinny jeans I got from Zara Kids when I was thirteen.  At least it's a change from the pastel obsession I've being suffering from since January.  Birthday presents appreciated and all that jazz.

I know this is bound to go down as the big one.

I've been dressing quite brightly at the moment, as in wearing clothes that aren't entirely black, which is a big deal for me. I'm not sure if it's because we had a brief spell of summer or if I was subconsciously acting like a Eurovision contestant (side note: how did Russia or Ireland not win, I mean what the fuck, Sweden?). Nonetheless, I figured I'd share some of my outfits over the past two weeks or so with you... there would be more but I haven't exactly left the house much recently.

Topshop: VECTRA shoes, Jamie jeans, denim shirt, skull necklace and biker jacket.  Miss Selfridge: Leopard bralet and studded belt.  Beasley's Hull: canvas satchel.

Topshop: oversized sleeveless shirt, the scarf was from Germany and the glasses were my mother's.

Topshop: oversized ombre peace tank top, skull crop top.  Vintage Levi's: high waisted shorts

Topshop: crop top, pastel skull necklace, tan belt.

Topshop: oversized skull tank top, canvas bag, jewellery.

What we have learn from this, other than knowing I wear a lot of Topshop is that I seem to have a skull fetish because there is one in every single outfit.