Inconsistency

There are many inconsistencies in my life at the moment. And I'd like to share them with you.

Oh, where are my manners? Hi!

The first and foremost little hiccup is my inconsistent posting. A lot of people find excuses for this but I have to admit I've just been busy. Hopefully this summer will bring on a bunch of new and exciting blog posts for me to enjoy writing and my audience (which is growing post by post, thank you!) to enjoy reading. Enjoy. Enjoy. Enjoy. Doesn't sound like a word anymore does it?

Anyways, I do solemnly swear to finally commit to this hobby and, fingers crossed, improve my blog for all the better :)

Secondly is my inconsistent location. I am currently at home in the middle of the countryside and it's such an antithesis of where I spend most of my days: London. Apart from the obvious hustle and bustle and, well, smog, the most prominent difference is company. I find myself spending a lot of time alone and not really having much at hand (apart from stroll the streets and look at the fields... *yawn*) to take the boredom away. There's probably going to be a +/- correlation with blogposts here somewhere.. haha) And as anyone blessed enough to have their parents live in their family home, too much of a good thing... (help. me.)

Within London is an inconsistency in itself: where I live. I'm fresh out of halls and have just obtained a flat. Me oh my, am I a grown up already? My recently savaged box of Alpro chocolate soya milk says quite the contrary...

I feel like whilst it is a huge relief to have a place waiting on my return, the stress in the meantime is a burden like no other. Okay, maybe it's parallel to the educational-doting comrades who survived the battle of A-Levels in that the whole summer is spent just waiting... (if you hold your *unconditional sign high up in the air and shake it in my face, get out. Also, congrats.)


Now I just need to put my "up-for--manual-labour" lapelled blazer on and get myself another job to fund my expensive decision to go to London. Funny how Bangor university got the last laugh.

All's well and good though and this is just my LONG winded word-vomit-style slur about schtuff. See you soon with a little (belated) piece about my long time love, Kina Grannis!

L.

A Student’s Life For Me: Preparing for Uni.

These are just a couple of things I wish that someone had told me before I went to uni. I thought I'd share the wisdom so that you'd avoid the same mistakes I made (don't worry, I turned out alright).

1.     Do take a look at all the banks that offer student accounts and do your research! Don’t be naïve and choose one that gave out a free railcard last year simply for that reason. I did, and ended up with a taste-card instead. Rookie error.

2.     Do think ahead – don’t pick up your cutlery and pans in a last minute dash. You waste so much money when you “desperate buy”.

3.     Do remember that to feel at home, you’re going to probably want to personalise your room. That means cheap fairy lights from Amazon or the latest A2 poster of a topless model or a big old ball of blu-tac.

4.     Do save those pennies for a rainy day. Although your overdraft might pull you out of the deep end a few times, you can’t always rely on it. If you have a little safety net, you’re not going to need to drink Blue Lagoon just because it’s the cheapest from Spoons. Ew.

5.     Don’t bring all of your clothes. If you’re lucky, you’ll have a little rail in a tiny wardrobe to put your threads and not much else. (Plus, the less you bring, the more you can buy!)

6.     Do sign up for an NUS (if you think you’ll benefit from it) and get an Advantage (Boots), Nectar (Sainsbury’s) and Tesco (…you can figure it out) card. They’re free and they slice off the pounds in more ways than you think!

7.     Do set up two e-mail addresses (if you don’t have two already)– one for important messages (firstname/lastname/@_______ not mrschanningtatum/mrchanningtatum/dudewheresmymail or anything that, y’know… is fun) and one for all your Student Beans goodness, email confirmations for tickets and that completely unnecessary ukulele you just purchased.

8.     Don’t skimp out on Fresher’s. Buy a bunch of tickets and if you don’t want to go to any, sell them! Obviously don’t buy a whole week’s worth… unless you think you can handle a seven day rampage.

9.     Don’t think you’re invincible. You’re going to get sick and your parent isn’t going to be there to bring you soup. Sob. Actually, to be honest, I was really upset about this.  But you can whip up a chicken noodle or a bacon sarnie just as well as they can.

10. Do go to Fresher’s fair and take a look around. Activities are sure to give you a break from assignments and revision and heck, you’ll even make a bunch of friends. The bonus of attending this crazy convention is that, lean in.. no. a little closer.. YOU GET A BUNCH OF FREEBIES. Pens, tote bags, pencils, sticky notes and much more useless items that you definitely need. I guess you could also practise saying ‘no thanks’ now that you’re the target demographic for just about anything. Oh, and don’t forget to sign up to the local GP whilst you’re there.

Happy Uni-ing, prospective students. And best of luck with your exams.

L.

Ryan Gosling

Listen: if you have a soft spot for the male gender, then you probably fancy Ryan Gosling. No? Good. One less person I have to fight off.

I feel like I fancied Ryan Gosling before the whole 'hey girl' hype - I was oblivious to it until last year, when everybody made Memes to encourage revision. How dare you prostitute my Ryan like that! Nevertheless, I loved him through and through. To make it official, my dear friend Alice bought me a 'Mrs Ryan Gosling' mug which I whip out in case a person ever gets out of line. Yes, we belong together, this is serious stuff.

…Through all the Etsy Gosling earrings and the commercialised Ryan tops, I've stood tall. I've stood away. But let's just say my wardrobe is slowly becoming infiltrated.

Exhibit A - a great present from my lovely friends, Franzi and Pug Sarah (…her real name is just Sarah, hahah).

Does it not look like I have no legs?
Excuse the derpy expression.

Oh what. It reads (at the bottom where my shorts (Topshop)

RYAN GOSLING

If you find him or look-a-like please contact me

Genius.

I wore this outfit on my first trip to, *drumroll* Five Guys. YUM!?!

I got the bacon burger with grilled onions, a still peach Fanta (I know, excuse me?!? right?) and a 'Little fries'. Big shoutout to my lovely friend Em for taking me. It was gloriousness. I've had better burgers but if I had the opportunity to roll around in a bed of little fries, I wouldn't pass it up. Each piece was so delectable I had trouble keeping my saliva in my mouth. …Just when you thought I was oh so lady like. Deal wit it.

L.

OOTD - 4th May, 2014

It is a beauuuutiful day in London - sunny, a cool breeze in the air, perfect for, well. I thought it was perfect for going to the cinema. The weather is a waste on me, I know.

I went solo to go see The Other Woman. But after a little mix up with the times (my bad) I saw Bad Neighbours at Vue in Islington. Great film! And so much eye candy (Seth Rogen, I'm talking about you. Hahah)

Anyways, I took a couple impromptu snaps before I hurried out the door. 

Apparently I like to touch my face

Black. Surprised?

My basic black top is from Topshop (? like, £8ish)

My jeans are from Topshop (Jamie, £40)

My belt is also from Topshop (£18)

My necklace is from New Look (??)

My Kimono (which I am in love with) is from Forever 21 (£9.75)

My trainers are Adidas

L.

Home

ALABAMA, ARKANSAS, I DO LOVE MY MA AND PA…

Haha, just kidding.

Hey there! I hope you find yourself in a somewhat comfortable position (saw a post on tumblr that reminded me to straighten my posture and I thought it genius but that's not what we do here) for this blog post! I want to say that there's a couple of things I'm going to attempt to publish over the next couple of days.

I'm back home in the countryside for a week or two but I need to get back to London to write assignments (because who does that at home?!) and revise and blah blah blah.

But whilst at home, I've had a lot of downtime. Instead of watching endless episodes of Hollywood Game Night or baking until I get fatter, I think I'm gonna try and show my blog the TLC it deserves!

So, please, ladies and gentlemen, guys and dolls, wizards and muggles, Snow White and her 7 Dwarves, I am pleased to announce that I shall be publishing a blog post a day, FOR A WHOLE WEEK.

Now listen, (come closer… no, little closer, I need to whisper this…) I DON'T HAVE A SLEEPING PATTERN.

What that means is that some posts will be up at 7am and some posts will be up at 11pm and anything and everything in between. But, I assure you, there will be a post a day.
Now I've published this post, I'm kinda stuck to my word. Which is good, because I don't want the THREE people that read my blog to feel lied to (ha, kidding… there's a little more than 3.)

More than anything, I think I just want to get back into the habit of writing content that I enjoy, and it's such a bonus if you do too.

BE WELL.

L.

Trafalgar Square and the National Gallery

Trafalgar Square is one that boasts dignified buildings stood proud and historical as far as the eye can see. It boasts an electric feel of first timers and tradition-goers that are attracted to its turquoise fountain and noble lions. It's also home to the National Gallery.

London is such an encouraging city to live in, particularly for the youth of the population (though you can never be too old to learn). We are reminded about people and places on almost every street: whether that be on plaques that cling onto houses or by the paths that meander through the parks. Our eyes are exposed to both history and the present day in one harmonious setting.

Nothing is more accurate of this description than the museums and galleries alike that are scattered throughout London. I decided, as it was but a stone's throw, to visit the National Gallery.

The National Gallery

Nelson's Column and Hahn/Cock

Exploring the streets in the area (cheeky photobomb by St. Paul's Cathedral)

I wonder if Nelson was afraid of heights

People watching in Trafalgar Square

Charing Cross: the closest tube station

The National Gallery is exquisite. Don't let the bustling pockets of tourists put you off visiting - the crowd is bound to disperse as each person is drawn to different works of art. You walk into rooms that display works of Guardi and Canaletto and others that whisper the story of Lady Jane Grey and her unfortunate fate.

I faintly remember first visiting the National Gallery at the fresh age of 5. My dad had made a tradition of visiting museums as a pair whilst my mum and sister made plans with relatives. We visited The Science Museum and The Natural History Museum - I even remember filling out a form for a year's subscription to the going's on and events!

But the National Gallery was a different story for a 5 year old - it didn't have pieces you could touch and dinosaurs you could bend your neck back in a struggle to see. It seemed quiet and serene and I actually really hated it.

I remember my dad picking me up and trying to point to 'interesting' features of paintings like the sour-faced gent in the corner on one knee, or the baby that was completely naked. I remember pretending to be interested, but I also remember becoming increasingly fed up and agitated at all this information that my father thought was fun. I recently asked my dad about the trip and although it felt like hours, apparently I didn't even last 50 minutes.

Shame, I thought, as I studied The Stone Mason's Yard and squinted to see the expression in the labourer's faces.

Shame, I thought, as I stood opposite Philip IV of Spain, suddenly becoming aware of my poor posture.

Shame, I thought, as I struggled to think what my dad would have thought of the crowd of people in Pablo Panini's work that waited on the lottery draw.

I wish that as a 5 year old I could understand what he was talking about and question him about his feelings instead of him trying to keep me interested when I'd float towards the chairs in the middle of the room.

I'm glad I took the time to re-visit, and maybe even see it as my dad did back in 2000. 13 years have passed since and the generations continue to repeat - I saw a child drawing on the paper map of the museum whilst the adults waltzed around and thought, 'that would have been me had my dad given me some paper!'

I hope she visits again a decade or two from now, and I hope she realises what I have. Although it's a peculiar setting to be in, it's almost too quiet and you are bound to have an awkward 'where do I even stand' situation, the percentage of interesting is almost incomparable to anything we teens today can vouch for.

But maybe it's not for you, and that's okay - maybe you're into robots or stuff that moves or music or food, even. And I'm sure there's a museum for that too.

L.

(Here are a couple of links to museums that are completely free - I hope someday you too are able to enjoy them: The V&A, The Natural History, The Science Museum, The British)

The Stranger Smile

I know the title is borderline creepy, but I hope it intrigues you too. See, this blog post is about you: as a person, as someone who emits their feelings into the world, and as someone who might seem insignificant, but in the light of things, in the telescopic tunnel of 'retrospect', has impacted more lives than you could ever imagine.

I recently started to think about people who have 'made my day'. A lot of these people I could put a name to: my nearest, my dearest, and ...well, a couple strangers to add to the mix.
I live in a small-knit community, and so even walking to the bus stop ensures me of a couple 'good morning's. And those minute gestures are important.

What I'm trying to say is that we're all in this rat race, and a couple kind words here and there are the final knots to a compliment. You don't have to be Angel Gabriel and carry messages of gold or go out of your way to compliment someone, but these social cues, these iconic gestures have developed in our world for one reason - to communicate, no?

This technological era has brought so many opportunities to branch out and communicate with people that are out of arm's reach. But it has also brought solitude and independence and isolation - not necessarily bad attributes, but ones that suffocate an open community.

It's almost like the dying art of whistling in public - the stranger smile is hidden underneath parallel-to-the-floor foreheads and tucked into the gap between your upper and lower front teeth.

Don't stranger grin though. Now THAT is creepy.

L.