Wednesday, 13 December 2017

Ten Favourites This Week

I know – I’m posting this on a Thursday and it’s weird! I normally post my favourites on a Friday, and I know some other people post them on a Monday, but, as I said in this post I wrote earlier in the week, I am going to try and just write what I want to write, when I want to write it. And I haven’t written a weekly favourites post in ages, and they are some of my favourite (lol) posts to write as well as to read. So before you actually die of boredom from listening to me waffle on, HERE ARE MY FAVOURITES THIS WEEK (SO FAR)! (Cue fanfare).


Why trash TV is good for you

When I was fifteen, I – very suddenly, it felt like it happened overnight – started suffering from anxiety.

I didn’t really talk about this very much to anyone except my parents, and it didn't last for a particularly long time. I was studying for my GCSEs and I felt a pressure that it’s hard to explain or even feel now; like trying to remember a nightmare, I can remember the facts but not the fear. However, I kept a diary at the time, which reads a bit like somebody living with a permanent fever. It’s a series of to-do lists – ‘memorise 15 formulae by lunchtime OR YOU WILL FAIL MATHS, re-read five chapters of To Kill A Mockingbird, DON’T EAT CHOCOLATE YOU ARE FAT,’ mixed in with pleadings – ‘I just want to feel normal again. I just want this feeling to go away. I want to wake up tomorrow and feel normal.’


Tuesday, 12 December 2017

On feeling the pressure and being the perfect blogger

I don’t know what this post is going to be – some kind of total mind dump? Word vomit? Who knows. Maybe I won’t even post it –if I do, apologies if you’re now reading it like ‘nobody cares about your first world problems!’

So recently I’ve just been feeling like the world’s worst blogger.

 I went out for dinner last week and met some absolutely amazing bloggers who blog full time and it was absolutely lovely and inspiring, but it also made me feel a bit down that my blog/Instagram just isn’t as good as theirs is. (God I just wrote ‘there’s’ instead of ‘theirs’ and was just staring it wondering why it looked wrong – send me back to school at once, my English teachers would be turning in their graves, if they were dead - which surely some of them MUST be by now because they were like 100 even then. I digress).


Monday, 11 December 2017

Las Vegas

AND HERE IT IS, the last of my America posts.  PHEW, because I bet you are all bored to death of me rambling on about how good it was and also it’s so long ago now because it has been taking me an age to get through them all, and looking at the photos and thinking about how it felt to be in the sunshine (sunshine? What is that?) when it is freezing and LITERALLY snowing is a bit too much for me. I want to start talking about hot chocolate and Christmas trees and so on. I did actually think about skipping this last post but I couldn’t finish up without talking about Vegas.


Wednesday, 6 December 2017

Las Vegas Shooting

On our second day in San Diego – October 1st -  we were tired, slightly sunburnt and a tad hungover from the night before, so we decided to get an early night. We probably headed to bed around 10.30pm. At that exact moment in Las Vegas, happy festival-goers were running for their lives.

We didn’t hear about the shooting immediately. In the UK, it was 9am in the morning, and as my family and friends started to hear the news, they began to worry. We’d been pretty vague about our route and due to lack of internet/signal in America we hadn’t been the greatest at keeping in touch. My phone started to flood with messages and the light flashing so often eventually woke me up.

I checked the BBC, horrified. I reassured my family that, no, we weren’t heading to Vegas for a couple of days – that we were fine, tucked up in our hotel room, Ian breathing softly beside me. Then I just sat and looked at him. People thought it could’ve been us precisely because it could’ve been us. We go to festivals all the time. We were due to be in Vegas in two days’ time. All I could think was that somebody just like my sister texted their sister on that day and didn’t get a reply. Thinking about it makes my blood run cold.

I don’t have the vocabulary to describe the anger and hatred I feel towards people who commit these sort of actions. I find it difficult to define how although I understand America’s complex relationship with guns, incidents like these make things so crystal clear to me and many others that it seems impossible to imagine how they remain murky for anybody. I don’t want to define my trip to Vegas by the actions of a mass murderer. It’s difficult not to. When I returned home it was the first thing anybody asked me about. But he does not deserve that. I won’t name him. He does not deserve that either.

Equally, I didn’t want to write a frivolous post about Las Vegas – what I wore, saw, drank, did – without paying my respects to the 58 people who died and the 546 people who were injured on that day. Please know that I think about you and your families often, that the event touched us all.

My next post won’t mention it at all, but I thought the response in Las Vegas was perfect and I have included the signs they posted around the city. Ian’s friend said it seemed quiet to her – having nothing to compare it to, it still seemed like a madhouse to me. You can find out how to help here.
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