Hello! It’s me again, which is no surprise considering this Blog is literally named after me, and all it’s content is about me. In real life I’m not this self-obsessed, I promise.
It’s been a busy week, between working and my friends arriving back from various parts of the country. University is weird when your accent adapts easily. One minute I’m talking in my usual posh accent (which is very misleading) and the next I’m using proper northern dialect. Have you ever heard a southerner say ‘Gaa’n?’ Turns out that’s for a reason. I sound like an idiot.
So, in a proper student fashion, we went out to the uni bar. I’m not a clubbing person, my body moves in strange directions when I’m drunk so I prefer sitting down and rambling.
The uni bar is good because you can dance, or you can drunkenly sit and drink more and more until you want McDonald’s. I like Observing as other female students ‘twerk’ in the direction of anyone that likes it. I thought the twerking phase of life was well and truly over, but apparently not. Do people actually find it attractive? Isn’t it a bit forward? I feel like arse moves should be saved for later on in the night, when you’re alone. Like the final part of a mating ritual rather than the first thing you do. Slut dropping is fun though, but only because it’s so dramatic that it’s more about confidence than sexual lore.
I got very drunk, but managed to not throw up, which is a big achievement for me. I think I’ll put the excessive drinking on hold until my birthday now, which is only like 2 weeks away, but still.
It has reached that time of year where the rain is pouring down relentlessly. And I love it. There’s that crisp taste in the air that’s refreshing, but not enough to freeze your teeth like it does in winter. I live for oversized jumpers and blankets and cups of tea with an occasional hot chocolate.
I’m also basic enough to love Pumpkin Spice Latte’s, or as Coasta’s have decided to call them: ‘Bonfire Latte’s.’ Like, what? When has anyone drank something and gone ‘Mmm, I can really taste the bonfire in that?’
Costa needs to up their game, first reducing the White Hot Chocolate to a tiny weeny cup obviously meant for hamsters, and now this. The only reason I keep forgiving them is because the one back home is inside Waterstones, and there’s something so cosy about a cafe surrounded by books.
I have just remembered the cup of tea I made, it has gone cold so I will bid you farewell as I go and make another one.