It’s getting close on to 4am and I’m still sat wide awake, wishing I could either sleep or fast forward the clock to 7am so I could at least get to the gym. So far tonight I’ve endured a terrifying ten minutes fighting off a massive spider that ran under my door (erm, don’t think so Incy!) an even more terrifying five minutes ushering an angry mother back to bed (”It sounds like a baby elephant was in the kitchen with the racket you made!” …I was making tea) and a painful hour reading ‘Lost dogs and lonely hearts’. 

I hate the kind of nights that are sent solely to completely destroy you and drain every last tear that your heart can possibly break about. They’re exhausting and cruel. Where are the people you need when you feel this way? I can bet they’ll be happily in dream land not giving a toss that you’re awake despairing. It makes me wonder why I bother myself with it. The only good things that come out of these nights are the copious amounts of tea you will definitely drink. 

The weather over the past few days has been absolutely beautiful, that beautiful that I took to the park with D and the puppy for a picnic. Ended up meeting a few more canine friends as they came up to our blanket to have a sniff around at the McDonalds bags (sorry dogs, too late!) and size up (or down) my chi chi. There’s nothing more discomforting than having a huge, heavy breathing white doggie face suddenly appear between you both to cries of “NO CHARLIE!!!!” in the distance…

Anybody who’s had a personal trainer will understand me when I say that there’s a real Love Hate relationship going down between the two of you. Hate when they’re in your face shouting, “COME ON! PUSH! BREATHE OUT!” (Mate, I’m not in labour here. I’m on a bloody exercise bike!) and Love when you feel the ‘walking on air’ benefit afterwards. I’m determined to get in shape for the all important special someone’s birthday next weekend but really, how many stones can you shed in a week? Better get on the speed foods and doing overtime on the treadmill!

It’s unreal how much I’m stressing over the whole thing. Sleepless nights, beauty regimes and attention to detail are just the tip on the iceberg.

On a lighter note, I managed to conquer my fear of stand up sunbeds today. Proud, much? Yes, I may have dragged my mum into the tanning booth with me, yes I may have made her stand there and coach me throughout the torturous 4 minutes of ray blasting, but I did it! Finally! This brings me on to something that really confused me, people who use tanning beds will understand what I mean but what on earth is the point of the tiny eye covers the spa give you that hold the name…wait for it…Winkies?! I obviously understand that they need to be worn to protect the eyes, but they’re about as effective as spitting at a whale. Tiny golden stickers that you’re meant to push into a conical shape and wear in a way not dissimilar to the single eye glass sported by the Duke in Cinderella. They literally make you look like a prat. Standing there naked wearing golden cones in your eyes…somebody must be having a right laugh somewhere.

My afternoon was not nearly as satisfying as my morning: it’s safe to say that my puppy is no Lassie when you’re in a spot of bother. I knocked myself out earlier today by standing up and banging my head on a window (idiot strikes again) and woke up to the puppy running around me yapping with glee. She obviously thought it was an amazingly fun game of ‘playing dead’. As I tried to stand up with blurred vision and a throbbing head she took to biting my fingers as hard as she could and ragging my sleeves. Sigh.

After spending all afternoon in bed sleeping, I’m still nowhere near clear of the throb in my head and what’s even worse is that a huge moth just landed on my hand whilst I’m sat here typing. Yes, just now! Admittedly, I just had the biggest spaz attack ever and am now sat in fear of the beasts return. This will definitely be a sleepless night…

I decided the other day that I’d have a full day of spa-like pampering complete with a hair mask and homemade face and body mask. It was only ever meant to be a facemask to start with - full of natural yoghurt, honey and a dash of milk but soon enough I found myself stood in the bathroom, not dissimilarly to John Wayne, looking like I was ready to be popped in the oven and roasted at 180 for an hour and a half. I was literally honey glazed…like a big fat piece of ham. But now I am proudly sporting silky smooth skin. Bothered? Nope.

Which complete and utter idiot thought it would be good to mix tequila with red, white and rose wine last night? Oh yes, that idiot would be me. How is it that a simple outing for lunch turned into one of the alcohol fuelled nights that leaves more than just a bitter taste in your mouth? After waking up in cow print pyjama bottoms and a top that read ‘Satisfaction Guaranteed’ (this was hilarious actually with the state of my face, satisfaction…don’t be bloody daft you must be having a giraffe) I felt the familiar pound of a sore head. All I can say is literally thank the Lord for a Lancôme skincare routine and my Yves Saint Laurent Touche Éclat. Oh and copious amounts of English Breakfast Tea and jam on toastie loaf. I’m never drinking again, (lies) well, at least never mixing everything up again (more lies). Oh…stuff it. Have you ever felt seriously hungover that you really could not manage to even drag yourself out of the bath? My God, I felt like I was climbing a huge bubbly mountain, not even getting started on the washing my hair part. Today has not been a good day.

I have this awful gut feeling that something is going to come to light and make me be sick to the stomach all over again. I don’t know why but I feel like I’m really losing grip on things and like everything is spinning out of control. And as last night shows, popping the cork and taking the salt and lemons is not the way to solve your problems. All you get left with is a terrible hangover which casts an extra cloud of doom over the existing problem, not cool. I feel like I need to do something drastic – more drastic than cutting the carbs, hammering my body at the gym and changing my hair. I need a soul makeover and fast. Why should I be unhappy and ruin what are meant to be the ‘best years of my life’ by worrying over something I have no control over? Maybe when I finally learn to love the person who I am and take everything with a bright and breezy approach, things will fall into place. As I keep hearing, ‘life always works out, somehow.’ I hope this turns out to be the case for me.

Anyway, to leave things on a brighter pondering note, I heard this question today: can you still say “put it where the sun doesn’t shine” on a nudist beach? Interesting, very interesting!

Decided to take the pooch on a little expedition to the post office today, she seemed to rather enjoy having a nosey around the neighbourhood. It was all going terribly well until a bus came roaring past and I ended up with L flying from my arms and up onto my shoulder where she sat cowering. I dare say I have a parrot in furry chi-chi disguise. Got approached by an 8 year old girl with her friend who exclaimed “Excuse me, can I touch your puppy please?” Yes love, the left or right? I obviously jest, that would be extremely inappropriate…

Speaking of inappropriate, my Dad had a blood test today and his conversation with the Nurse panned out like this:

Nurse: “In a moment you’ll feel a small scratch.”

Dad: “Since when did you start saying ’small scratch’ instead of ’small prick?’”

Nurse: “Ever since I told an old man he’d feel a ’small prick’ and he replied with, ‘oooh, have you been peeping?’”

Jesus Christ Almighty…

I’ve had such an unproductive day today it’s unreal. I woke up with good intentions to watch breakfast news (did that), read The Independent (managed that one too), tackle the washing (check), read up on LFW (ermmm), wash the car (ah…nope), and hoover the house (say what?) So yes, on the production scale I did not do too well. Instead I made lunch, fainted in the process then had to have a couple of hours lying down ‘resting’ which consisted of fielding telephone calls and waking up to texts.

I feel SO bored with life at the moment…yawn. It’s such a boring process of waking up, doing the housework, eating and then sleeping only to wake up and do it all again. I guess it’ll be much better in a couple of weeks when the puppy will be able to get out and about so we can go for nice walkies every day. Where have the glamorous days gone of retail therapy, nice lunches out, girly coffee meet ups, salon visits and heart-fluttering dates? Down the drain along with my money I suspect.

Anyway, time for a fresh start tomorrow by an early visit to the gym. I need my personal trainer to whip me into shape just in time for the special surprise birthday celebrations I have planned. I would reveal more but then it wouldn’t be a surprise would it? (I can so imagine the face of disdain right now). Good things come to those who wait, right D?

Don’t you just hate those days where you feel completely miserable and lost and can’t even have a break by getting outside because of the pouring rain? Even a cup of Earl Grey and Vanilla tea in my favourite teacup sat watching the rain didn’t manage to lift my mood that much. Or even indulging in my current can’t-put-it-down book. And it’s all my fault…

At some point last night I remember thinking, ‘oh fiddlesticks, tomorrow’s hangover is going to be a killer.’ Yet, it didn’t stop my alcohol fuelled brain into telling me that one more glass of Rose would not help the coming problem. And so I had another….three. Waking up today on a rather deflated air bed was made a million times worse by the sickly feeling in my stomach and the persistent pounding in my head. I remembered one of the boys asking me out the night before and politely declining several times over. Like my headache, he was also very persistent.

Dribbling drunk guy: “Do you really not want to go on a date with me?”
Me: “No. Thank you.”
Dribbling drunk guy: “So, why? Don’t you fancy me?”
Me: “No…I don’t. I’m not interested.”
Dribbling drunk guy: “Just one date?”
Me: “For God sake…NO!!!”
Dribbling drunk guy: “I’ll show you a good time love.”
Me: “And I’ll show you a black eye. Love.”

I really do not understand why the word ‘no’ is so terribly difficult to understand.

Today I have spent the day feeling miserably sorry for myself. Not only did I have the hangover from Hell but I was also doing a lot of reading for an exam I have to take. Pair that with a cutie little puppy who needs a lot of attention and whimpers until she gets it and you don’t really have a good mixture. I couldn’t even escape into a hot bubble bath as I realised with shock there was a furry little ball sat watching me with big pleading eyes trying to guilt trip me into playing tug of war once again. It worked. My day was only made complete when I found potato smiley faces in the freezer along with BBQ chicken. There is a God.

I really need to get away even if it’s only for a couple of days. I feel like I’ve reached the edge and I’m about to fall right off. I saw a cheap return ticket to Dublin for £15….brilliant. I think I need to look into this further and fast but for now, back on the revision wagon.

Do you have somebody in your life who would drop everything to be by your side when you feel sad? I do. Do you have somebody in your life who makes you feel instantly better the second you see their face? I do. And do you have somebody in your life who couldn’t understand for a single second just how much they mean to you and your life or how proud of them you are with every breath they take….? I do.

I’m calling his phone up just to tell him how much I really love him cause, he’s everything I want. He listens to me, cares for me so I truly believe God sent me an Angel from above, that’s gonna love me for life. Might as well be perfect only because it’s the only way I can describe so, if this isn’t love, tell me what it is cos I could be dreaming or just plain crazy.

Sometimes I really wish I could just disappear. When you spend your life being told how ugly, fat, useless and bad you are, there’s a point where you start to believe it. I don’t remember the good comments, maybe because they don’t clog up my heart like the hurtful ones do. I just wish I could be better, better at life and better at being who I want to be because I hate the person I am. There’s a very small number of things that make me happy in life and most of them have already slipped through my fingers. I’m fed up of being broken hearted and shrouded with disappointment and feeling a complete and utter fool. It hurts. It’s gotten to a point where life feels actually painful and I’m not sure I can deal with that anymore.

Bring back the days of dancing with the people I love until 3am then rolling out of the club home and breaking into ice cream fights. Or the days of listening to sad songs that would normally make me cry and thinking “I’m so so happy that this doesn’t upset anymore” and feeling whole inside. I want the person back who I used to be, the person I was 6 months ago, the person who felt life was worth living.

How the heck can you still be miserable when you have a perfectly chilled glass of champagne along with a Frappuccino Mousse on the side waiting to be devoured? Goodness knows but it’s very possible.

I managed to have a good old laugh at Michael McIntyre’s Comedy Roadshow on TV though. There’s a guy I know who always, always wears Lacoste shirts and claims they’re ‘quality gear, mate’ (I like your crocodile mate. Wink, wink) anyway, it just so happens that said crocodile was a topic of discussion on the show: “I’m wearing a designer label…I have money that’s why. Look at my crocodile, you don’t have one do you? Do you?! I’m that rich that sometimes………………………………my crocodile plays Polo.” Now, imagine this said in a London/Berkshire accent (apparently that’s what the Reading accent now sounds like according to Paul Kerswill) coming out of a not too dissimilar figure to Peter Kay and you have quite an amusing image.

I also got a laugh out of a conversation from a friend who had been refunded by an online store for £2,400 instead of the mere £24.00 he actually paid for the offending item. It’s been 11 days now and the money is still sitting pretty in his bank account, he thinks that they won’t notice you see. I found it highly amusing as I know he is a big shopper of the Kappa brand. I’m thinking that upon the loss of £2,400 I should say the company would be well and truly bankrupt. You ballsed that one up Mr Refund man didn’t you?!

When I finally talked my parents into getting me the perfect little puppy, I never imagined such a cute little ball of fluff could be so horrendously smelly! Myself and the puppy were casually laid out on the sofa this afternoon watching ‘Vets in Action’, she was laid over my chest looking all cute and hiccupping then all of a sudden a stench hit me that would be powerful enough to knock Al Murray down to the ground. Good heavens above…where the hell is the puppy spray when you need it?!

Why is it that I’m an expert when it comes to solving other people’s problems and giving out advice but for myself I’m a complete and total wreck head? I just don’t understand it. Maybe it’s because I know what I should do but can’t quite seem to make the break to do it. I’m sick of living in disappointment and wasting my time, energy and effort on people who clearly wouldn’t think twice about sweeping me under the carpet. ‘Never make someone your priority who only make you an option.’ All too often lately I feel completely used and underappreciated and it’s about high time it stopped for good. I don’t have the strength to carry on anymore.

I keep finding lately that I’m plagued by strange dreams about people very distant to me in all kinds of situations, eerily the situations are fast turning out to be true. I find this extremely worrying as I keep having one absolutely awful dream in particular about somebody. I don’t know if it’s my heart that keeps overulling my dream head or intuition kicking in again as it always does. Either way, I wish with all my heart that it isn’t some indication to the shit that’s about to hit the fan. There’s this thing about secrets….they always come out.

Writing tonight feels as hard as choking under water. I can’t quite breathe properly, gasping for air as the water cascades into my throat. As if all the life and inspiration has been sucked out of me for good. I don’t know why but I guess that’s the ‘beauty’ of life, unexpected things happen all the time. For the best and for the worst.

 
I wish I could rewind to a simpler time in life where every day felt exciting and happy and where every day I felt loved. But life’s a bitch and you don’t always get what you want or so need.

 
Sometimes you face the question, ‘What’s making you miserable?’ and inside you’re screaming the answer but the fear keeps you from answering the complete and honest truth. Maybe I’ve seen too many American teen movies that’s sent my hope into overdrive to believe that happiness can and truly will be mine again. Bullshit, obviously. Maybe it’s high time to cut my losses and just disappear? After all, would anybody truly notice? Time will only tell.

Whatever you do in life will be insignificant, but it’s very important that you do it ‘cos nobody else will. Like When somebody comes into your life and half of you says “I’m nowhere near ready” but then the other half says “Make her yours forever…” What do you do? How would you feel if it was all taken away…forever? In one single heatbeat…in one bitter pill? Cherish what and who you love every single day, one day it may be too late to rekindle the love you once had. Remember that…forever.

I was slightly confused when I woke up this morning. First of all, the sun was just starting to rise (I haven’t witnessed this for some months now so this was the first sign something strange was happening), second of all…no hangover? Surely as soon as I moved it’d hit me? But no…no hangover what so ever. This is most surprising since I consumed my probable body weight in Cointreau, Patron, Red and White wine last night with the girls whilst cooking a Thai Green Curry. It’s quite worrying that maybe my body is getting used to the copious cocktail of alcohol being thrown at it. I think I need to cut the cocktails and tally up on the tea…or Starbucks frappuccinos.

Anyway, I was awake mega early and after a horribly upsetting few days I decided to go clear my head and take a walk to the cemetery to my Nannan and Grandads’ grave. It’s weird but I once read that when a white feather appears out of nowhere, it’s a sign that a spirit/angel is nearby. And what should be placed on the grave? A single, bright white feather. I’ll take it as a sign from above that everything will eventually be alright. I’m in that horrible place again where you feel like you’re hanging on by a single loose thread that can break at any second. As if you keep holding your breath and hoping and wishing but yet you know you need to set yourself up for that fall that’s going to break you. Anyway, adapt or die. I don’t like to adapt.

I’m starting to seriously question my sanity today. I took a drive to remind myself where my spiritualist church meeting is tonight and I cannot for the life of me find the sodding church! Forgive my blasphemy Lord for it is terribly unholy of me, Amen. How can it be that it was there last week and now I can’t seem to see it? I’m most confused…also, when I was making  a cup of tea earlier I managed to confuse myself again by placing my teabag in the dishwasher and my spoon in my bin. Have you ever, ever felt like this? How strange things happen, when you’re going round the twist! (Sorry…I had to do that).

I’ve been thinking today (yes…scary) about what I want to do in my life before I’m 30 so I’ve compiled my own little list of ‘30 things to do before I’m 30′ and narrowed it down to the top ten…

1. Go to New York and buy a copy of The New Yorker and read page 6!

2. Vist Paris with D and stand on top of the Eiffel tower at midnight in time to see all the City lights twinkle!

3. Go to a proper baseball game in America and shout at the players whilst eating a big fat hotdog and drinking a HUGE slurpie.

4. Learn how to not get my heart broken several times over. By the same person.

5. Win a competition…any competition…I NEVER win competitions!

6. Be an accomplished freelance writer for the likes of Vogue, Esquire, Harpers or Tatler.

7. Marry! Hello husband

8. Own several pairs of Manolos…

9. Live somewhere that isn’t here…

10. Generally have my life sorted out…LOL jk that will NEVER happen!

I have a question to ask. How the heck does anybody manage to go into stand up tanning pods and endure six minutes of rays to perfect the lobster look? I ‘attempted’ to take a six minute tan fix today for the very first time and completely freaked out. I literally am such a pussy (although I shall never, ever admit this when D accuses me of being so). It wasn’t until I was stood completely naked in the pod (no tan lines ladies…) with a pair of terribly unflattering goggles on my head that I decided I was too scared to step into the booth and be frazzled. I stood there, naked, for around three minutes deciding whether to face my fear or calmly get dressed and emerge red faced. I chose the second option and faced such a mickey taking that I wish I’d gone and scared myself to death after all. Walking out of the salon with a bright red face, minimum pride and a refund of £3 I decided this would not be an experience I would like to repeat. Make Believe fake tan…here I come.

I’m feeling in a calm mood tonight which is strange considering I felt less than alright a few small hours ago. Decided to watch Julie & Julia; one of my favourite films ever. It combines everything I adore from food to Paris to etiquette and love. Perfect when teamed with a large glass of red wine and mood lighting.

Don’t you just hate it when people get ill? The people you actually give a damn about more to the point. I wish it was possible to magically click my fingers and appear somewhere with a basket full of goodies and a magic wand to wave away all signs of feeling poorly and make everything okay again. Oh well…