The Sweet Taste of… Bonfires?

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.

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.

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.

 

Why I suck at my job

For most people, summer is about BBQ’s, holidays and topping up tans. But for me, it’s about working and getting my shit together while I take a break from uni. Fun, right?

While this seemed like a good idea at the time, somehow I still haven’t saved a penny and I am closer to eternal misery than I have ever been. Working in the fast food industry has proved to be pretty difficult, and if I’m being 100% honest, I suck at it.

But, why? Well, here’s a list that (hopefully) won’t get me into trouble:

  1. I am the human definition of  ‘clutz.’

Well, I just Googled the definition of ‘clutz’ and it says they’re losers. I’m just going to ignore that part. I’m too clumsy to be trusted near anything hot, which isn’t too handy when you work in a place people go to for food. I am covered in burns from coffee, oil and various racks. Give it a year and I’ll resemble Deadpool.

I’m also very good at spilling things. The first time the big boss of the local restaurants came in, I threw Strawberry Lemonade down myself. Even my bra was soaked through. I still don’t know how I wasn’t fired, though the number of hours I did changed dramatically for a few weeks afterwards.

2. I am too short.

Okay, this one applies to lots of people. I have to use a stool to refill coffee beans, stock shelves and find anything in the stock room. Add a ladder to my ability to trip over nothing, and you’ve got a midget dropping coffee beans down her top. Not a pretty sight.

3. My social awkwardness.

For some reason when a customer says ‘Thank you.’ my brain thinks ‘Same’ is an appropriate response. Same? Same what? Who knows? Not me.

There’s also the time I took food to a car outside and said ‘Sorry for the food. Enjoy the wait.’ But I don’t like to talk about that.

4. My honesty.

Okay, so I work at this place. I’m meant to enthusiastic about everything on the menu. Sometimes the manager even makes me try to up-sell stuff. The other day it was flatbread. I asked this lovely old couple whether they wanted to try a flatbread. I already knew they’d say no, but I tried.

So when they declined I simply said ‘Okie dokie, fair enough.’ When the man asked whether suggesting the flatbread to anybody had actually worked. I replied with ‘Surprisingly, yes.’ The couple laughed for a while, and I stood politely blinking at them. (Not that you can rudely blink? Is that a thing?) The lady eventually explained that they just thought it was funny that I said ‘surprisingly.’ I said ‘But it is surprising.’ and they walked off, still giggling. I’m still unsure why.

5.  Children

I like kids… that can’t walk or talk yet. But once they hit the age of seven, I become terrified of them. Especially the ones you encounter working in fast food. It’s one thing adults judging and criticising your job, but you know you’ve hit a low point when chubby kids do it too. I’m quite a peaceful person, but even I want to tell them to shut up and eat their burger instead of crippling my self esteem, damn goblins.

There are plenty of other reasons why I’m terrible at my job, but listing them would take all night. So I’ll leave it there.

Until next time folks.