Crossing them off!

Okay, first of all I have to apologise for being a depressing as hell so and so on my last post.

Second I
need to dedicate a little love to a young lady called Adelaide*. Adelaide, your comment made my week, it made me realise that no matter what there is always someone there to make you feel cheerful.. You are a princess and I miss you!

After getting a hold of myself a little bit I wrote myself a little bucket list of sorts.. Not a proper bucket list of things I'd love to do before I die, but a teenage bucket list. Things I want to do as a teenager... These include:

• Forget the night before
• Throw an egg at something in anger
• Enjoy a festival.

This of course, is just a snippet I've left off some more illegal things.. And influenced because I was raised on American movies, but I digress.

Now I will tell you all about what I did two days after my blog posting was posted.

Exactly two days after I wrote my list, I arranged with my drone* to have a little barbecue with a couple of friends. For the purpose of integrity and anonymity we'll call said friends F and D. The plan was that we go by Tescos and buy some beers and fags. Not my words, I like neither particularly and decided I'd just buy myself a bottle of Rose due to the sunny weather and impending barbecue food.

After meeting up with the lads we all went and sat on the bank of the river, tres romantic. After deciding on a spot we all started on our journey across the fields, me sneezing, sniffing and spluttering. I was suffering from hay fever to the extreme and one of my eyes was completely gone. Red and weeping, I thought "This bloody hurts, what should I do? I know. I'll get drunk so it doesn't hurt so bloody much."

Mistake number 1.

There was talk, drinking, food and dancing around.. And before long, it was night. After I had finished my bottle I was offered a beer. Why not? Then another.. Finally after more dancing talking and clearing up our mess, we made our way to F's house. At this stage I was laughing at everything, wobbling a lot and had completely forgotten about my eye. Success! Once at F's, it was mentioned that D had not watched Game of Thrones. "Let's stay for a couple of episodes!"

Mistake number 2.

This is when my sketchy recollection of the evening subsides, and everything else I know has been told to me.

After seeing the fuzzy HBO screen, I fell into a deep slumber.

And started snoring.

An hour later drone decided we should probably stay.. considering he was rather drunk and also we weigh around the same size, there was definitely not a chance of hime carrying me for half a mile.

Mistake number 3.

The boys pulled out the sofa I was on to make a sofa bed. Apparently at this stage I hazily woke up, blearily looked at them (Me not being in glasses meant this really was a very bleary experience for us all, and I was most likely cross eyed) and rolled over and went back to sleep. After a little while longer, I suddenly sat straight up and.. I started making, um, noises. The best way to imagine it is thinking of a 96 year old chain smoker trying to sing a monotonous song with their mouths closed. And I kept making it.

Drone: "Are you alright sweetheart?"
Me: "Hrmmmp"
Drone: "Cha Cha?"
Me: Nodding, "Hrmm"
Drone: "Do you feel sick?"
Me: *Pause* "Hm"

Apparently I threw up on my leg, hand, F's sofa and floor.. (SO SORRY BY THE WAY) and then, with my sick covered hand, put it against my face and settled back into a deep and serene slumber.

Thank you F and D, for putting up with your lightweight friend. And thank you Jordan, for cleaning your silly girlfriend up so well she didn't even know the next morning. I know how squeamish you are and I bloody appreciated it.

I've ticked one off the list, and though I couldn't have felt worse the next day, I remember feeling oddly satisfied. Life's too short to worry about yesterday.

Happy reading butty bells.
xoxo

* Adelaides blog: http://life-in-fairyland.blogspot.co.uk
* My boyfriend. Drone is a cute nickname because he's like a bee. It's not because he drones on.

I have nothing to write about.

And it's always been an issue.. My life is dreary, people say that only boring people get bored but I'm sure that's not the problem. I hope that's not the problem. 

My father said something to me recently, he said "cheer up, you're at the age when you should be in the prime of your life" or something to that respect. In case you guys need a life update I'm currently 19, out of education and I'm now working in tescos. This combination basically = shit. Obviously I'm trying to get out, find something new, something I enjoy. Something I'm fed up of hearing is "you're not trying hard enough to get what you want" this statement is everywhere, work hard, get results. I've been waking up at four/five every day for the past month and a half. I've been secretly going to horrid auditions for shitty shows because I'm desperate to be part of something that doesn't make me want to cry. The friends I have left (who I haven't stopped seeing because for some fucking reason I pushed everyone away during and after college) all now seem to be depressed or having the time of their lives. It's one or the other.

God this post is depressing but I just needed to write it down because everyone is just too fucking nice.

I hate my job but I can't complain to my coworkers because they're always so happy to see me, it just makes me more upset. How can they be happy with working in this environment? Why can't I feel the same way? Why when I get home am I tired all the time and why am I pushing away the people I love? If you're saying I should just quit, well: I am planning to go to university for all the wrong reasons in September. It's a desperate attempt to give myself some structure. Some new friends who I haven't disappointed yet, a new settlement.. I love living with my parents, it's something I'm not used to having lived my mum for the majority of my life. But it's strange, as much as they tell me I'm not, I feel like a burden. Like a reminder one of their kids isn't doing so well. This depressing ghost that just sleeps and eats, forever moaning and wailing about how unhappy she is.

I feel like I need to go through that you're only young once phase, the forgetting last night, getting your heartbroken for the first time, taking something you know you shouldn't have phase.

But I want to work hard, get this chip off my shoulder.. Make my parents (and myself) proud. I want to dance, and sing and write and perform and show that I can work bloody hard. I just don't know how to get there yet.

I don't work at Thorpe Park anymore by the way.

And not because my season ended, because I quit! Yes, that's right, I'm a loose cannon, A CRAZY MOFO doing things because I can.

I'm now Alice, yes, Alice, and I am in wonderland before you make a joke.

So basically yeah, I'm in a theatre company called Proteus, and I've been touring round the country in a van putting on performances for you filthy animals.

If you want to literally see me jumping down rabbit holes and doing other weird crap, look at this:

http://www.proteustheatre.com/?page=AliceTourSchedule

Happychristmasbutterballs

I work at Thorpe Park by the way

Since it's almost over and the season rushes to an end, now may be a good time to say if you ever get sad that I'm crap at my blog, and feel the need to hear my beautiful words, come on down to the Park of Thorpe, and as I'm pushing down that bar on The Flying Fish, or waving you off as you go whizzing down Nemesis inferno...

Just remember: this is my full time job, and I've a very short temper

Something something, butterballs.

My life at the moment, not that you care. Jerk.

Hey everyone! Yesterday, I went to topshop and bought some clothes. That's all I have to say there really.

Yep.

Anyway, even weirder at this bloody place (Topshop on Oxford Street) They had maps.. Like, a map to the shop? What?! I know it's London but what the lump?

Totally weird but whatever, that was my day out I guess. 

Anyhoo, one of the reason for my random buying, very unlike me and something that only happens on special occasions is that I have a new job! And it's a cool job too. So as a present to the very few people reading this, next time you come on this blog, there will be a little New job post just like the original Debenhams post. What a hoot.

Well, um. Bye guys

Happy reading butterballs.

MOTHER'S DAY.

Presents.

I don't usually put a lot of effort into presents, on mothers/fathers day, usually a card and some chocolate, maybe a piece of soap. However, for some reason (Procrastination probably) I decided to put some effort into this mothers day.

Step one:

First of all I decided to make her a card, so I cut out a cute little heart (pretty rough to start out, no template) and then smooth the edges out by cutting around it, keeping them connected I planned for the card to open on a fold.

Step 2 (The accidental step)

                                                                                                             Of course that went wrong and I managed slicing the fold that connected the two parts of the card. Typical, so I had to work out a new way to connect the two pieces. 

My first thought was obviously cellotape, because really, what can't that solve! But alas, no such luck. For we had none, and I realised it wouldn't look great anyway..

But the I got the simply BRILLIANT idea of SEWING.

Wow, yeah because actually, I can't sew. 

But screw it, I thought it would look cute so whatever, apparently my determination is pretty strong when it wants to bloody be. But here is where I ran into my next problem. As well as celotape, we had no needle. Plenty of thread, but not a needle in sight! Crimany.

I did however for some odd reason, have a bit of metal wire, rather flexible, and a bunch of cocktail sticks (Which actually proved to be useless after all) and proceeded to create holes all down the edges of the bits of card the traditional way. Painstakingly. It was terrid.

terrid |ˈterə-rid| adjective a mix between horrid and terrible.

Step three motherfudgerrrr.

Now for the ICING OF THE CAKE YEAH.

I wanted to do something cute and flowery for mothers day, and also something to go with her present (I'll show you that in a minute) so I wanted to make some tissue paper flowers, as I had a lot of tissue paper. My first couple of attempts at the flowers were unsuccessful.

I then found a shape I was fond of. You should not it's not either of these, I'm pretty bad at photographing evidence of progress, I mostly take photos of my failure, I'm such a matyr.


Anyhow, I finally got a good shape and found out there was no glue in the house.

For those not keeping track that is:

• No cellotape
• No glue
• No needle
• No good pictures of progress.

It's disaster night over here!

I used blu tac. Which does the job but is super tempermental. 

My mum better love this.

Step four. 

decorationnnnnnn

This is the insideeeeee

Now for the present STEP Fuh fuh fuh FIVE.

I got my mum a pretty little rose from this website:

http://www.notonthehighstreet.com/bookish/product/literary-paper-rose

CUTE RIGHT, YEAH.

I think it's pretty adorable.

Anyway, I hope these instructions help you make a wonderful homemade mothers day for your dear old mums. If that fails there's always breakfast in bed. Or petrol station roses?                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                               ...                                                                                                                   Good luck sons and daughters.                

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                    Happy mothers day mummy, and happy reading butterballs.

I'm scared, but probably in a good way.

The Future.

I don't really like seeing those two words put together. 'The' on it's own isn't scary, and 'Future' makes me excited. All I can think about is hover packs and Fifth Element-style worlds. However the two toget-

The Future.

Oops, that scared you didn't it? Well, if you're anything like me it did.


The Future.

Well, that's approaching quickly isn't it!
(Well actually on this blog, that's as close as it will get as that's the biggest font.)



Recently I found out that I'm very susceptible to the phrase: "I don't know". But I never really mean that when I say it... I have discovered that I actually mean: "I don't want to know".


I don't want to listen to anyone else now, how do they know how I feel? That sounds kind of stroppy, but I do know they have good intentions... And if I get good advice, I take it, but odds are it won't change a decision made.


So right at this point, I know that whatever I choose is good. I can't regret what I do, because life is too damn short, and I will find a way to enjoy it wherever I am!

My favourite quote from (One of my) favourite film(s)!

HappyFUTURINGButterballs.

"Can't we do our own secret show?" "All our shows are secret shows"

I have not posted in a LONG time, and yes I feel bad, I really do.

But not as bad as I'm about to dear readers, for this is a shameless post of very little shame.

And I'm not even going to apologise.


LET ME SET THE SCENE:

I am sitting in my little room on my little laptop doing very little. The most exciting thing I'm planning to do is go out and buy a sandwich as it's 2pm and I'm very hungry. I'm listening to Dela -Johnny Clegg on repeat, and I am debating whether it's better to drive to my dads tonight, or tomorrow...

BUT THAT IS NOT IMPORTANT RIGHT NOW.

What I am here to do, is shamelessly plug my boyfriends band. Yeah, I said boyfriend. I'm so grown up, I have a car AND a boyfriend!

THEY DO FUNK AND THEY DON'T COMPLETELY SUCK! Was that an anti-rhyme?



Introducing: Jarvis and the Ministry...

Jordan: the singer/songwriter apparently. (Jarvis, and my filthy mudlood boyfriend)

Click on the pictures!If you want :)

 The guitarist, Marc. (He is French)

Ollie,The Bassist. He hates cats and you should hate him.

Danny, the drummer. Oh, he is far uglier in real life. Don't worry.

HAPPY BANDING BUTTERBALLS

I am losing control of my lid.

LID=LIFE.


Revising is hard.
http://ronronweasley.blogspot.co.uk/

Look at that I guess.


Sorry for lack of an exciting post today.

I'm not even signing off, I'm off THE RAILS.

I love lamp.

I have passed my driving test, and probably shouldn't have. Thanks Larry.

Larry was my examiner, for all those that weren't in the car with me. Which is everyone...
So, I know it's ages since I've blogged but apparently I have a bit of a following now that my dad (Blog from the barn) gave me a KICK IN RATINGS by talking about how terrified he is of my new found freedom in a big metal box that has the ability to crush me, set me on fire, fling me through glass, break all of my bones, and make me kick the wheel in frustration when I forget on my second day of driving alone which nozzle to stick in the petrol hole thingy. Reassured yet dad?

Anyhoo, it's irrelevant because in the technical sense according to Larry I am a freaking brilliant driver. Zero faults/minors. 0.

Well, I'm at college now, so I can't put any pictures up apart from what I already have on the computer.. So let's see:

I honestly feel so guilty about this. Where did it come from? I must quickly add I'm logged in on my friends. Lies..

Anyhow, not racist. The ladies love it. Congratulations Obama by the way, I guess the theory holds true? WHAMMY.

Can't think of anything else to say.

Laters peeps,

and Happy reading butter balls.

p.s. just found this treasure in my folder of work too. Probably saved for my performance coursework, I titled it "stage manager", but I'm pretty sure this dude has NO IDEA what is going on. Stay classy San Diego