Holidays are Coming

As I mentioned in my last post, I am a total Ebenezer Scrooge when it comes to Christmas (parents telling me they're getting divorced on Christmas Day blah blah blaaaah), but two things have made me change my mind about the holidays today: Tolkien and Coca-Cola. The Coca-Cola Trucks are like the epitome of television seasonal cheer, and the drink itself is like the nectar of the Gods, so I was ridiculously happy to get to see one of the trucks in person. The queue was like seventy thousand hours long though so I didn't get to see whatever it was that was happening. Although judging by the many littered tiny cans of Coke on the floor, I guess it was that.

Coke does sit pretty highly on the list of things I love (as lame as that is), but one of the few things that I love more than this is Lord of the Rings, so when I found out that the Christmas Grotto in Hull this year was Hobbit themed I was pretty stoked.  However, I then discovered that their idea of 'Hobbit Themed' means claiming that their robotic elves are Hobbits, building something that barely looks passable as a Hobbit house and then using the normal stuff from previous years for the rest of it.  You can even see an elf stood in the background... and it's not even one of the cool kind from Rivendell.  But it's still enough to hold me over until the film comes out. And I got to see a little fast food cart that was also Tolkien themed that I lamely posed in front of like a total tourist.  And in a total Marilyn moment, albeit not as glamorous, I'm clutching my hat like my life depends on it because it is ridiculously windy out right now and I was stood next to large quantities of water.  I think if I lost that baby I think I would cry, because it is the only thing that hides my hair, the winner of the Flattest Hair in the World Award.

Because I don't want two posts in a row on this blog about Christmas, I'll slyly switch the theme back to the true love of my life, shooooppiiiiiiiiiing. After reading Rachel's blog and hearing about these weird Primark tights, I figured I'd brave the the depths of utter terror that is Primark and have a search for them. As expected, I didn't find them. Though I did get two pairs of different tights that look like part of a school uniform and then four pairs of socks that I'm planning to wear over tights with skirts and boots and look totez adorbz. I also saw this amazing rucksack that I'm definitely regretting not buying... maybe Primark isn't as bad as I've always made out? First New Look and now this, what has become of me?  To round this up I'll sum up what I was wearing... even though this wasn't supposed to be an outfit post so you'll have to imagine the bottom half of me.  The usual leopard print chelsea boots from Topshop, black tights from anywhere lulzzz, black skater skirt from Miss Selfridge, leopard print bralet from Miss Selfridge, sheer black and gray stripey jumper from New Look, oversized black cardigan from Topshop, spiked Topshop necklace, black and tan TARDIS (srsly) bag from Next, stripey fingerless Topshop gloves, the infamous Topshop black bowler hat and the greatest coat in the universe, my Miss Selfridge boyfriend coat.  BEST FASHION BLOGGER EVER, am I right?

her best days will be some of my worst

I have the weirdest feeling in the pit of my stomach right now, but it's not, like... a bad feeling?  It's sorta like when you're first in mutual like with someone and you catch yourself off guard thinking about them and you get those butterflies and feel all happy.  Or something.  But I'm not currently in this happy little pre-relationship stage, I've been in a relationship for over two years now, so I started racking my brain and trying to think about what is giving me all the little happy feelings I'm currently experiencing.  And I think it's the weather, or more to the point, the colour of the sky.  Or lack of colour.  I mean, it's like five o'clock and I'd say it's ninety percent complete darkness already and all the windows down my street have this cozy little orange glow beaming out of the windows and apparently this is making me excited or something?  I don't think it's anything to do with Christmas, I'm not particularly one to absorb seasonal joy and I'm a total Scrooge when it comes to festive cheer.  So either I'm changing my humbug ways or I'm just looking forward to mugs of green tea and onesies and spending my days doing absolutely nothing and terrible television.  And presents.

I'm not sure why I came to document this here, I guess I used to post a lot about butterfly-ey-boy-ey feelings on here back in the '08 (long since deleted) and just wanted to come full circle.  So to take this away from an unnecessarily early Christmas themed post, I'll post this N-Dubz cover of The Man Who Can't Be Moved that I've been listening to nonstop recently.  Totes festive, amirite?  I've also been listening to a lot of Jason Donovan, but I'm pretty sure I've already blogged about my unnatural attraction to him before.  Maybe one day I'll make a playlist to demonstrate just how terrible my taste in music actually is.  Or maybe not as it might make your ears bleed.

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?