Devouring Eeyore

I’m writing this on the train up to Cumbria, because apparently being a writer means being flexible and writing anywhere you can, despite the fact that I seem to get inspiration locked in my bedroom in the dark at 2am.

This week I have done nothing except work, so this Blog is going to be short, but hey, something’s better than nothing, right? (The picture for this post is literally just a photo of stones I took in Eastbourne. I thought it looked pretty.)

Freshers starts again next week, and because my campus is shutting down, the line-up looks pretty shoddy. The great thing about that is that I won’t waste £700 on alcohol and club entry fees like I did last year.

Trying to be cool is not only tiring but extremely expensive, which is why I’ve given up this year. I’m happiest wrapped up with a takeaway and a glass of wine. (I hate wine, but it sounds better than ‘milky cocktail.’ Why are my taste buds still 4 years old?)

That makes me sound old and boring, but I am getting old. I’m turning 22 in a month, which means I have to act like a 30 year old. It won’t be long until people ask me when Ian’s going to propose, or when I’m going to have kids. *Shudders* In perspective, 22 isn’t that old. But it is the age that you’re supposed to have a career plan and future prospects, and I have neither.

Instead, I have a trip to Disneyland coming up and I could not be more hyped. I have my plans all sorted, and as soon as we get there I’ve booked a character dinner. My mum seems to think my enthusiasm is weird because of my age, but she’s just jealous because she won’t be eating meatballs with Eeyore. Wait, isn’t that a bit weird? Eating pig in front of a depressed donkey when one of his best friend’s is a pig?

Clearly, I haven’t thought this through.

Simon says: ‘You’ll never escape.’

Okay, first thing’s first:

Yes, I haven’t written anything in like two weeks.

Yes, I am ashamed.

And yes, it will happen again. I could make plenty of excuses as to why I Hobbit-holed myself (Well, I am never saying that again.) But the truth is that I’m lazy and up until now, I’ve done well to hide that fact.

But fear not, as I have returned with stories of dark rooms and floating chairs. That’s right folks, I got myself locked in another escape room. This seems to be becoming a problem, and I should probably seek help. I would say it’s because I love working as a team and bonding with people, but in reality I probably have some sadistic dark side that has become BFF’s with my competitive demon.

This time it was with a new company, Lucardo (The name kind of reminds me of that blue ninja – fox Pokemon.) and I had a fresh team: Ian, his brother Ali, and my sister, Ruby. To be honest, I had no faith in us. I thought we’d just end up bullying each-other and the guy would just let us out before anyone died.

Lucardo’s building is pretty scary. You have to press a button to get in, and once you step inside there is what looks like an abandoned reception desk. It looked like a huge corporate company (Wait, are they the same thing?) with white walls and the smell of an empty hospital. I guess you could say it looked apocalypse-y, and you had to climb up a lot of stairs until you found the massive Lucardo sign.

Inside ‘the waiting room’ was nicely decorated, but then black and red are my favourite colours so maybe I’m biased.

The staff were friendly, Luke was our own personal Oversee-er. He was very helpful and clear when giving us clues, though if anything I think maybe he was a little too helpful. Without him, we wouldn’t have escaped, as he gave a lot away, compared to other escape rooms where they would help us through riddles.

So thanks Luke, if not for you and health and safety laws, we would still be stuck in that room.

The room we did was called The Dream, though personally I think it should be called ‘Wasted’ or ‘God, I should not have smoked that.’

The story is basically that you’re dreaming you’ve won the lottery, but to actually win you have to wake up and escape your subconscious, or be trapped there forever. Sort of spooky, sort of random.

Our newfound buddy Luke blindfolded us before leading us into the room, and when we took them off I didn’t know what to look at first. The floating chairs, the sheep (Toys, not real. Though that would have been a twist), the bike wheel or the watering cans full of balls. It was insane.

A few of the decorations were just there to throw you off, which was different to the other escape rooms I’ve done. I also spent a good ten minutes playing Simon says before Luke told me that I was supposed to do that later. I’m glad he told me, because I would have been touching my toes and lifting my arms for the whole hour.

And my team worked surprisingly well. I stood around sounding stupid, Ali and Ian figured out the puzzles and Ruby put the codes into the lock. It was pretty smooth and we escaped with two minutes to spare.

I feel like the room was decorated amazingly, and it has a lot of potential. I think the two problems I had was that the website description didn’t really advertise it well enough, and the numbers don’t really work with the dream theme. Maybe it should be called The Lottery, because saying you’re getting ‘locked in the dream room’ doesn’t sound very PG.

Overall it was a fun experience, and definitely worth a try. I feel like Lucardo is much more suited to families than Breakout, and would be great for kids as well as adults.

We finished our day with a victory Nando’s, and I totally dragged Ruby along to see Hotel Transylvania 3. You can tell from this photo how much fun she had!

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FYI: Yes, I know Ali is prettier than me. Damn him.

Swimming, Assassinations and Ice Cream

So, I’m writing this in the back of Ian’s Dad’s car, which is good news as it means I haven’t pucked and been banned from it forever.

The south was great, and I discovered I’m a bad person because I desperately want Ian to inherite his grandparent’s house.

They have many rooms, a lovely garden (Though I couldn’t help but think ‘Oh god. The maintenence, it must take hours to cut. You can tell you’re an adult when thoughts like that cross your mind. But that’s a crises for another time.) And even their own swimming pool.

Ian has asked me politley not to kill them off, but I can’t call the assassins now, they won’t give me a refund.

I do think if I had my own pool I would be much healthier because I love swimming but hate public pools. It’s the only exercise I enjoy. But my generation is doomed to never buy houses, so I will be a poolless widow forever unless we inherite thiers. Ian won’t ask for it though. He still has a thing called pride, whereas I’m happy to grovel at their feet and tell them all the health benefits it will give me.

Whilst we swam, I asked Ian to take a photo of me on the whale. (Not real, you fools. Inflatable.) He had bought me a Little Mermaid bikini the day before and I have become obssessed with it. I asked him to take a nice, elegant photo of me. But instead he captured this monstrosity:

Thankfully, he had accidentally changed the video setting so it’s only a second long. I thank God for that every day.

Aside from swimming, we went into Brighton where I stuffed my face with sandwiches, ice cream and Shakeaway.
We walked through The Lanes and had a stroll along the beach.
There are only 2 big cities I would ever live in; Edinburgh or Brighton. Though the crowds at Brighton startled me a little bit.

Have you ever tried to eat a meatball sandwich gracefully, with the wind blowing your hair all over the place?

You can’t. It’s impossible.

So many people witnessed a stumpy ginger troll destroying a sandwich, leaving hot sauce on her forhead and chunks of meatball in her hair. Luckily Ian’s family had decided to stay home, and he already knows I’m a monster so it was fine.

Overall, it was a great getaway and even my attempted skin care got complimented.

What I mean by that, is that the day before I left, I mushed a banana up with oats and honey and smothered it on my face before placing cucumbers on my eyes. That was when Ian came home and found me laying on our bed with half of the breakfast aisle dripping from me.

I tried to explain that I’m too poor to buy facemasks but he didn’t understand.

The good news is my skin has been lovely and soft since so I totally reccommend it.

So that’s pretty much all I have to talk about this week. Now, please excuse me. I have assassins to tend to.

Food glorious food

Okay so if the layout of this post is weird it’s because I’m attempting to be tech savvy. I’m writing this on my phone, and you’ll just have to make do while I figure this out.

Whilst staring at the ceiling trying to figure out something to write about, (This has become part of my blogging routine. It’s hard to write when all you do is work and sleep.) I went through lots of topics in my head that I know about, but couldn’t find anything to get my creative juices flowing. (Ew. Don’t worry, I will never use that phrase again.)

And since I don’t want to cause arguments or be political, expressing strong opinions on here is a no go.

But then it hit me. I do have an opinion on something that won’t hurt anybody’s feelings: Food is fricken awesome.

I don’t even know how people diet. Or how people are vegetarians, I mean I know why, and it’s an amazing cause. But it also takes some serious will power. I do not possess that kind of power. I will eat anything that finds it’s way onto a plate.

And then there’s people who ‘forget’ to eat. How?? It’s a human need, do you people forget to breathe too?

I just don’t get it. Ian can’t even get me out of bed unless he is well equipped with chocolate and coffee, and even then he struggles.

My love for food and my easily-influenced personality also mean I spend a lot of money on recipes I see on Facebook. Facebook is like ‘Here’s how to make lasagne but with garlic bread instead of pasta’ and 5 minutes later I’ll be in Aldi, striding down the aisles like I have money to waste, which I don’t.

Aldi is also troublesome. There’s a few aisles that change every few weeks. Most of it is random rubbish that I want but don’t need, and one of the aisles is full of exciting food. I think the last thing I bought was Caramel Popcorn Coffee. Sadly, it was disgusting. But the smell should be in a Yankee candle, and the little chocolate drops in it are cute.

There isn’t much more I can say about my love for food, and to be honest, I’m struggling this week so I think I’ll just keep this short and sweet.

Hopefully I’ll continue next week, but I’m going on a trip to Seaford (Which involves a 7 hour car journey with Ian’s dad. He pretends he’s recovered from the first time I met him and threw up in his car. But I notice him nervously glancing at me in the mirror every so often, not that I blame him. It was an awful first impression.)

My point is, I will write if I have time. If not, it’s going to be a horrifically long fortnight for you all.

Toasties and… torture?

It has been another blazing week since I last wrote, and people have been enjoying the heat in traditional ways, with BBQ’s and beach visits. I, however, spent my day off paying to be locked in a room with my brother and boyfriend.

That’s right folks, my little brother, who is actually a teenager and isn’t very little, came to stay and I thought we’d go to Manchester for the afternoon and do an escape room.

‘But what does that have to do with the delicious sandwich at the top of this post?’ I hear you ask, even though you probably didn’t. And the answer is absolutely nothing, except that it was my brothers dinner at Northern Soul Grilled Cheese. They do delicious mac and cheese toasties for a fiver, and honestly it was so worth it. Jak’s had pulled pork added to it, whereas mine was in a pot mixed with sriracha, sausage and crispy onions. I think my taste buds had a little food orgasm, it was that good.

Anyway, that was the only photo I took through the whole day as I’m very much a ‘live in the moment’ type of person. So, let’s get back to talking about the escape room.

We booked a room called ‘Captured’ as I wanted to do a scary one. I’m a sucker for horror games and basically being scared. I actually find it interesting that humans seek enjoyment from the thing that most species avoid. You don’t see mice going up to cats for the thrill, or fish pretending to flop about on land for a few seconds. We’re so weird.

We were blindfolded and taken to the room, where a video started playing and we took the blindfolds off. We didn’t get very far after that, though I think we were about half way when the timer ran out. The room was Saw themed, and each time we got a clue the jigsaw laugh played, which got a bit annoying when I was stressed.

I won’t go through all the puzzles, because spoilers, but for one of them you had to pull a rope to lift up these little doors. This was the first thing that went disastrously wrong. I went up to the rope, and started pulling on it, and as far as I knew, it didn’t do anything.  But then, from behind me, Ian said ‘The doors are moving! I think they’re giving us a clue.’

But instead of putting two and two together, I just went over to Ian and watched the doors. They didn’t move again, so I assumed my boyfriend was a nutter and went back to pulling the rope. I heard Ian gasp and say ‘Did you see that?’ So I stopped, checked, and nothing was happening. I went back to pulling the rope, this time frowning and getting a bit frustrated. This went on for a while before Jak noticed what was happening, and informed Ian that I was the one activating the doors.

If Jak wasn’t there, I swear we wouldn’t have got past that first puzzle. Which is actually really bad, considering me and Ian live alone together and might start a family one day.  That is not a day the world will ever be prepared for.

We also broke a puzzle, and the woman had to come down into the room and fetch the key for us. We worked terribly as a team, the boys hopping from one puzzle to the other, and not listening to anything I said. I’m aware that what I say most of the time is pretty stupid, but they could have at least tried my guesses when we were stuck.

Basically, I wanted to kill them both by the end of it, and to make things 100x worse we had to run for the train.

I am not a graceful runner, and I was not in a sports bra. Instead I was in skinny jeans, docs and a low cut top. My boobs were bouncing in pain, almost hitting me in the face. I was also out of breath and sweaty, and then the guys decided that since I couldn’t talk through my panting, they would tease and insult me about the whole ordeal.

Overall, I loved having Jak over to stay, even though we do not work well as a team and I feel like I have discovered that me and Ian are as stupid as each-other. Pray for us.

A Typical Libra

Okay, so in my last post I talked about how I believe basically everything I’m told.

So it goes without saying, I’m one of those people who believes in Star signs. Every morning I wake up and check my horoscope on Snapchat before getting out of bed.

Sometimes I wonder if that’s a little too kooky or superstitious. I mean, if I had a nicer body and less of an appetite for pizza I would totally be a nudist. Alas, I will always be stumpy  and slightly chubby, and I doubt I will ever love colourful clothes, or flowers. So really, I’m quite far away from going full-on hippie.

It’s not like I believe in Horoscopes either, because apparently I will meet my soul mate every week, and have the opportunity for a promotion every other day. That’s a whole lot of men destined to be with me, and I’m 90% sure you can only be promoted three times at Maccies.

No, I believe in Star Signs. I am a Libra. At times, I think the high bloke who wrote the online zodiac descriptions knows me better than I do. I wish I knew his name, so I could send him an email with all my life problems, and he could give me some advice from beyond the stars.

A Libra’s strengths are:

‘Cooperative,diplomatic, gracious, fair-minded, social.’

Wow, we were doing so well up until the social bit. I think we’ll just ignore that, and focus purely on the fact that I annoy a lot of people by being diplomatic. If you come to me ranting about someone, prepare to also rant at me for trying to defend them.

A Libra’s weaknesses are:

‘Indecisive, avoids confrontations, will carry a grudge, self-pity.’

Once again, this is pretty close. I am far too lazy to carry a grudge though. It takes too much energy and most of the time I forget why I’m being grumpy with someone. To me, my worst trait is definitely being indecisive. There is too much food in the world for me to pick what we have for dinner.

A Libra’s likes are:

‘Harmony, gentleness, sharing with others, the outdoors.’

I never thought I was an outdoors person until I moved away from Cumbria, it only took a few days for me to miss the silence and fields and even the sheep. I also get very stress if there’s tension in the air, so I guess the harmony part is very true.

A Libra’s dislikes  are:

‘Violence, injustice, loudmouths, conformity.’

Out of all of the points, this is the one that is spot on. I don’t understand how people can even physically be violent. I hate Spiders, but I would never kill one, so it’s beyond me how anybody could punch another person. Also I’m not a vegetarian, so maybe this point makes me a bit of a hypocrite because animals die so I can eat? But I’m pretty sure a cow would eat me too if it got the chance, I can see it in their eyes.

Those are just a few of the points I wanted to share because I’m honestly addicted to the zodiac signs, but going through the whole thing would take all day and would also be very boring for you.

In fact, I believe in them so much, I even got a tattoo of my elemental symbol: air. I would have got the Libra sign, but let’s be real, nobody wants a tattoo of some shabby scales.

Being a slave to Youtube

Guess who’s only got one year left of university before they’re plunged into proper adulthood? (Me!)

And guess who’s university just emailed them, telling them to start a ‘career plan.’ (Me..)

Guess who has no idea what they want to do with their life despite being 21.  (Cries into a bucket of ice cream. Me.) 

All I want is a job that allows me to sleep in, stay at home and have fun. I’m slowly coming to the realisation that’s not how life works, and my way of coping is watching lots of Youtube. Which is fine. I’m not drinking or doing drugs, I am just splurged over the bed watching pointless rubbish.

Turns out, this is pretty bad for me. Not because it’s killing my brain cells and leaving me as a beached whale,. covered in the remains of biscuits and broken dreams.

My Mum likes to call me ‘easily influenced.’  I like to think I’m just adaptable.

Youtube and my personality do not mix well for a few reasons. The first is that I am rapidly losing money thanks to beauty videos.

If I look up hair tutorials, I will buy the product the person recommends no matter the price. Then, even if it doesn’t work, I recommend the product to other people. It was only the other day that I was telling my Mum she needed silk pillows made with 98% Egyptian silk, woven together by the finest Sphinx in Europe.

The same applies with make up, a 12 year old could tell me to spend £75 on a foundation that covers freckles and I would be ordering it within 8 seconds. (This is also a problem whenever I pop into Lush for one bath bomb. Thanks to the helpful staff I come out with 6 bombs, 3 face creams, 2 bars of soap and some sort of scrub that smells great but I have no idea when I’ll use it.)

The second reason Youtube is bad for me is that I also pick up other people’s traits. I have a friend back home who likes to slam his finger on the table whenever he’s making a point he’s passionate about. I do it too.

Despite living as far North as you can get for most of my life, I have picked up my Mum’s southern accent (which happens to be the bane of my existence.)

I have a Yorkshire friend so somehow ‘Reet’ and ‘Aye’ have become part of my vocabulary.

It’s a never ending list really. But now, I have started to pick up the traits of Youtubers. Why am I like this? I will use two examples from the most popular Youtubers I watch.

Zoella has a tendency of saying ‘I don’t know- I just…’ an awful lot. And now so do I.

Dan Howell seems to say ‘Yass’ and ‘Yeah boiii’ a lot. Personally I hate the fact I picked this up. Get a grip, Lucie.

In conclusion, I have decided that I am Youtube’s prime target audience. I am basically a slave to every Youtuber out there, and I am still no closer to picking a career.

So, if you’re reading this, please send help.