I’m going to Disneyland as an adult and let me tell you, I will not ‘Let it Go.’

Before I start, I’d like to do a promo for the other blog I’m writing for, it’s a group project that I’m really excited about! Though this peice will be there, I promise there will be extra content that I won’t be put on here!

Give it a follow at:

https://thejistmmu.wordpress.com

Now, I have very exciting news…

The wise Peter Pan once said: ‘Keep adventuring and stay not a grown up’ and I honestly could not relate to anything more. Because, let’s face it, being an adult sucks.
Yes, I am legally old enough to drive. But do I? No, because I can’t afford to sell my soul away for the insurance.
Sure, I drink alcohol and do cool (sometimes sexy) adult stuff, but do I always regret it the morning after? Yes, yes I do.

As a semi-functioning human who tries her best, Disney has found a hole in my heart and filled it with something day-to-day life seriously lacks: magic.

I wasn’t enthusiastic about Disney as a kid, and when it got to the corny part of the movies where they’re all singing and dancing and I would cringe. Why are they singing? Make them stop. Why does that rat talk?

But now I know. Why shouldn’t the rat talk? And why can’t we all live happily-ever-after singing songs out the blue?

So my Mum bought a getaway to Disneyland for my 22nd birthday. That’s right folks, I’m going to where the literal magic happens and dragging my 13 year old sister with me. Nothing can stop the hype.

The thing I’ve found about planning the trip, is that there’s a lot of it for somewhere that’s meant to be fun. You need to know where you want to eat and what time you want to eat three months in advance.

To be honest, I eat when I want to eat, (which is probably far too much to be healthy.) I can’t even tell you what time my dinner is tonight. Or what time I’ll have lunch tomorrow.

I feel like a panda, sleeping my way through life and occasionally waking up to eat and, once in a blue moon, have sexy time.
Disneyland is trying to tame the wild panda in me, and so far, it’s bit of a rocky start. God knows how parents plan that far in advance, but I salute you.

I did book Inventions though, where you eat with, and meet up to 8 characters. Mickey is almost always there, since he is the most iconic mouse on the planet. I have such high hopes for meeting him, I tend to forget it’s a guy in a suit that was too short to get cast as a Prince.

When Mum first told me about the trip, I was excited. But then I realised the timing ties in with the Halloween festival, which means all the baddies are going to be out and about. Fuck Aurora, I’m meeting Maleficent and channelling my inner witch.

I have organised costumes, which is hard because you’re not allowed to dress as Disney characters, but you are allowed to dress like them (AKA: ’Disneybounding.’) So, I’ve bought Stitch and Angel onesies and I’m Disneybounding as Gaston, and Ruby is going as Jack the Skelington King.

Another thing I didn’t expect was the number of apps I’d have to download. The official Disneyland app, which tells me queue times and has a map of the park. The Photopass app, for all of the photo’s the professionals take. And then there’s Revolut, for emergency money in case I run out of cash. I feel like I’m definitely going to need a portable charger, or my phone is going to melt into my hands within an hour.

We are travelling by coach from Cumbria to Paris, overall it’s a gruelling 16 hour journey. At least there are plenty of alcoholic drinks being on board, it’ll be a miracle if I make it to Disneyland to be honest. We’re taking a blanket, snacks, books and the tablet so we won’t be bored or uncomfortable. I also have a onesie that my mum made for me, because she is a literal saint.

Of course, nothing is going to go to plan but I will update you all with everything I can next week.

Also, here’s a lovely quote to think about in the mean time:

‘I only hope that we never lose sight of one thing — that it was all started by a mouse.’ -Walt Disney

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!

40570058_267535130753152_321434532093886464_n

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.

Problems with being a curvy girl in a heatwave.

Thanks to Twitter, the whole world knows that the UK is feeling the power of the sun for the first time in forever.

With an average temperature of 25 degrees, us Brits don’t know how to cope. Water companies are struggling, hosepipes have been banned and the constant complaining will continue for the next fortnight if the BBC’s predictions are right.

Let’s face it, the only weather this country is ready for, is rain. If it’s hot, we shut down and if it snows, we shut down.

But I feel like my battle against the sun is justified for two reasons:

  1. I am ginger, which means if I leave the house without layers of sun-cream I will become Darth Mauls adopted cousin. And if I do leave the house with protection, my freckles will decide to flourish and I have way too many of them for that to be a good look.
  2. I am a ‘curvy’ lass.

I’m a size 12-14, which I think is an awesome size to be, unless it’s hot.

Being this size means I have big boobs. Which I mostly appreciate because it means when I wear a low cut top I don’t get ID’d, but it also means they sweat a lot. The underboob seems to be the ultimate sweat hot-spot. And if that’s not gross enough, it means I’m forced to wear low cut tops to try and air them out. Which automatically makes people look at my chest, and leaves me feeling self-conscious.

I also have a big bum, which I actually hate with a passion. And it’s not because it looks bad, because I know people have operations and dream of having a bum like Kim K. I think it looks decent, but it’s so impractical. At work I accidentally knock things off of shelves, when I’m in crowded spaces it feels like I’m pushing into people when I’m trying to move between them and I can not wear short shorts without half of my arse hanging out. In this weather, I have to wear shorts (I’m a Tomboy, no way would I touch a skirt) which means my arse has free reign to the wind. Now, I’ve already talked about the low cut tops I have to wear, now imagine a short girl, showing boobs, legs and bum. It looks like I’m dressing for attention, but I’m not. I JUST SWEAT TOO MUCH.

And that leaves my legs. I have large thighs, which are probably the part of my body I’m most self-conscious about. I have to admit, if it wasn’t for the heat, I wouldn’t shave simply because I’m lazy and nobody ever see’s my stumps of legs. But having large thighs also means, more sweat. So I sit somewhere, and my legs kind of inflate as they always do when I sit down. If I’m sat there more than five minutes I will leave a huge patch of leg juice on the chair, which is v embarrassing. Not only that, but I end up with a huge rash on my thighs from where they’ve been rubbing together. And yes, there may be cream to help with that, but add that to shaving and that’s another 45 minutes added to my day just so I don’t overheat.

But despite these problems, I went home to explore the lakes and enjoy the sun. Even though the lakes aren’t actually lakes and I burnt the sausages on the BBQ, I loved the weekend and I couldn’t have been able to do it without the burning ball of gas in the sky. So thank you sun, you hot orb.

PS: The photo at the top is an old one, my hair is no longer blue.

Is my hometown even real?

I grew up in a tiny village in The Lake District. For those who don’t know, The Lake District is a beautiful place where people pay ridiculous prices to go and stay in a cabin, or where the rich people go to retire. Either way, people don’t stay long.

Sometimes when I go home, I laugh at how much the place is like a fantasy novel, and I love it. It’s like it’s stuck in time, always a little bit behind the rest of the world. So, without further ado, here is the list I’ve made over the last few weeks:

Reasons why The Lake District is some sort of Fantasy Land

  • Carlisle is literally nick-named ‘City of the Lakes.’  Even though there are no lakes in the city? Misleading but magical.
  • In one of the villages I lived in, there is a beck leading to a river. Kids splash and play in the beck all summer, and the road even goes into the river. How many children can say their parents drove through a river on the way to school?
  • Down the road from where I live, there is an Ice Cream Farm. That’s right folks, we get ice cream straight from the cows udder. There’s a place where you can pet the calves and there’s even fake cows for you to sit on while you enjoy your ice cream. I always thank the cows for the deliciousness they’ve provided. (The real ones, not the fake ones. You numpties.)
  • There is a man in the town centre who goes by the name ‘Tatty Tim.’ I’m not even going to explain that one.
  • There is also a man so famous that our town wanted to name the Wetherspoon’s after him. I’m not entirely sure who he is or why he’s so legendary, but where you at Rowland?
  • Buses? Pfft, who needs them? There is one bus trip a week from my village, and if you get on it, you better know when it’s due to come back. Otherwise you’ll be camping there for the week. You may also have to pick a fight with the elderly if you want a seat, and NEVER sit in ‘Margaret’s’ seat, even if she’s not there. The others will batter you.
  • The biggest event of the year by far is Appleby Horse fair, where the population of 3,000 increases to 30,000 as travellers from across come together to trade horses. They literally come to celebrate horses, wash horses in the river, and leave again. I get it’s traditional, but outside of Cumbria it does seem a little strange.
  • There is a marmalade festival. I kid you not. There is an entire festival, where people stick pictures of oranges everywhere and sell marmalade? What even?

So that’s my list so far, no doubt it’ll keep getting bigger the more I travel home. But for now, Netflix is calling my name.