the prettiest star

Laugh now, but one day we'll be in charge.

Thursday, March 9


A number of things have pissed me off today.

I'm pissed off at my own laziness because I had to do an essay in 2 hours that I could have started 2 weeks ago. What's worse is that an essay I thought was due in tomorrow was in fact due in today and I don't understand the questions on it.

This essay situation today was not improved by the fact that I've got pmt and my stomach looks pregnant. I just made a cake to make me feel better and I ate the entire thing. Silly, wasn't it? Now none of my trousers fit.

But what's really upset me, and I choose the word upset because it saddened me, is that I read an article on a news website that Princess Diana's death was not caused by a conspiracy. Seems random that it would upset me? Allow me to explain.....

The driver of her car was recently found out to be a member of French intelligence. There was another car, I believe it was a whie fiat, it's driver was never found. It wasn't approved that she was dating someone of Arab descent, and she did too much good. Made the rest of the royal family look bad.

It's almost 10 years since she died and there has been so much theory over the whole situation. Maybe we'll never know what hapenned, but I know, and I think most people in the country feel the same way, that something isn't quite right. There's a lot of stuff going on that we, and by we I mean the public, aren't told about.

Maybe it's just a bad day for me, but it worries me how scary the world is these days. I was told by my lecturer the other day, that living in a city, we get photographed hundreds of times a day. Advertising worries me. Given that I work for a natural cosmetics company and you learn about ingredients, you realise that as consumers, we are all being ripped off. And food! I witnessed my housemate eating days old take out the other day. I asked him, do you think about what you're eating?

No one thinks about what they put in the their bodies, what they put on it, and what they feed their mind with. Maybe this is paranoia, but there seem to be a lot of people who just do not care. They will live their lives the way television and magazines deem the correct way. They will be subservient to convienience, and believe everything the papers say.

I sat next to a woman on the train the other day, and she told me she worked for local govt and explained that no one votes anymore, no one knows about how the country is run. Her time is filled with petty things like mending roads and sorting out housing and all the things she thought she could solve can't be solved because she has no time, no resources.

I risk sounding like I think everyone should live their lives a certain way. I know people choose their lifestyles, but they are coerced into it by how their choices are marketed. I think corporate greed is taking over, and say with certain soft drinks companies, they just want growth, they don't care whose third world workers are exploited or whose children's health is ruined or how much waste they produce.

I told my Mum's friend at the weekend that the reason her (very well known) face cream didn't work was because it's a cocktail of mineral oils and preservatives. 'But it cost £35' she said, 'It said on the box that it was tested by dermatologists'. I explained that the fact that she spent money on it didn't mean it was going to work and it was obviously bollocks because it gave her a rash. She admitted that she only bought it because of the amazing adverts and claims made by the company.

I was happy because I've hopefully saved her a lot of money. But then at the end of the night she said that she was just like me when she was my age. 'We all grow out of it', she said, 'you think you can change the world but then you grow up (!) and have kids and it just doesn't matter anymore'.

I'm not some naive kid thinking 'the man' sucks ass. I get so sick of people that think just because you're young, you don't know. How many people could have done great things, but were stopped because someone told they were 'too young'?

Sunday, October 23

Love Is A Battlefield

I've written so much on here about my love life. I'd like to think I'm the eternal optimist, but I'm ever the bitter cynic as well. I don't think one relationship (encounter may be a more appropriate word) has reached any level of meaning and everything has ended in nastiness.

So I found myself two weeks ago at my friend's staff party, drinking their free alcohol and talking to some loser about god knows what. Then I'm introduced to some people playing a drinking game, and there He is. Cute, nice hair, all that stuff.

Conversation ensues. He studies Spanish and the rest of the conversation is in my mother tongue. We ended up getting trashed and going to some vile club in the city. We drink equally vile beer, laugh at the crap music, and when he kisses me it's like the kiss I've been waiting for all these years.

We end up at my place. The next morning I wake up in his arms.

He took me for breakfast and smoothies which we ate in the park. On the next date we went for drinks, where he laughed at me for drinking real ale. Before the next date he came into my work and brought me chocolates, then that night we went for Spanish tapas and discussed our life stories.

Last Friday I had to stay at work late and got caught out in rain. By the time I got to his, he had made me a meal.

I'm fully aware of how icky this all sounds. I know people are sick that I've been walking around with the most ridiculous smile on my face. When we made Cds for each other I drove my housemates mad by playing it all the time.

I now know how it feels when you're with someone so perfect the thought of someone else is so wrong, so alien, it doesn't bear thinking about.

I'm terrified of fucking it all up. Finding someone who I could fall insanely and irrationally in love with after all the shit I've put up with, seems so lucky and amazing I just think it's all too good to be true.

Wednesday, October 5

The Summer of Discontent

Not that it's actually summer any more, but sometimes you start a season with a distinct feeling that the last was frittered away. Three and a half months and I am no better off, financially, romantically, and didn't do half the things I wanted to do.

And so I find myself somewhat miffed.

I am quite disturbed that my last notable sexual encounter was with the man across the road after a 2 many dj's gig. In his front room. He has green hair and questionable manners. Before him is a guy I'm still supposed to be seeing who is perfect in every way apart from our most intiamate moments seem to involve some awkward fumbling and fiddling with condoms under a duvet in a darkened room.

There has to be more than this, surely? I'm nearly twenty but most of the time I feel 15.

It's this whole emotional ineptitude which is quite alarming. My housemate just split with his girlfriend after a very intense 8 month relationship, she's in Morroco and apparantly doesn't love him any more. This hapenned a week ago and the guy will not stop crying.

I don't deal with crying men, they make my skin crawl and I avoid dealing with them at all costs.

So it's got to the point where I'm hiding from my housemate because it's getting a bit silly. I asked him if he wanted to come to the supermarket to which he replied there were too many memories there.

What total bollocks. Everyone goes to Asda.

I must admit that I can't ever imagine being so into someone that the local supermarket is just too much for me. It verges on the ridiculous.

It's also quite disturbing.

When my parents broke up it didn't stop my mum from going to the local shop for a paper.

It's such a little thing and I don't know what it is exactly that's bothering me. But this discontent has been lingering all summer. It was that I was earning and yet not quite enough to clear my debt. I was dating, but not forming relationships. I was happy enough but not doing anything really fullfilling.

Now it's my environment and it's so petty.

Tuesday, August 30

Families. Can't beat them. Shame that.

I went for a gorgey steak dinner with my friend tonight, and it struck me how both of us did nothing but complain about having to live back at home for the holidays. And it's not just us, it seems all the students I speak to are having some kind of mental breakdown.

Take right now. I am sat, peacefully, at my laptop in our offic space upstairs. We have wireless internet, not that my computer will have anything to do with it, but my mother has decided that this is the moment- at 12am, to print out her expenses. It's really pissing me off.

Call me spoiled or selfish, whatever. This woman and her twat of a boyfriend exist only as a means of making my life more difficult.

What possesed me to come home for the holidays? Oh I remember, home is where I am style consultant/cleaner/mender of computers/ taxi. What better way to spend my summer?

It's got to the point now where I hear her boyfriend getting up and this sinking, icky feeling materialises in my stomach. He sounds like a horse, all heavy breathing and odd snorting noises. Then he emerges, never wearing more than a pair of pants and sunglasses. I don't know if his eyes are sensitive or whatever, but only a complete tosser does that.

Two weeks on Friday I officially move back to Casa of Freedom and Good People None Of Whom Are Insane.

I keep going there, for long weekends and the like, and the 16th of September cannot come soon enough. I will gladly exchange the loudest man in Spain and his bumbag for communal living.

The other day my Dad asked me if I was going to live at home after I graduate.

I told him I would live in a cardboard box with tramps before going back There.

Thursday, August 11

Only Me.

Right, so I got a WHOLE load of shit to talk about.

So. I've been working as a sales assistant in a shop called Lush in the day. It's all natural, handmade, fair traded, etc, stuff, so it's morally right up my street. I get freebies and my hair and skin look amazing now.

Up until a few days ago I worked at my local but then the landlord did a runner because the pub went into admin.

Could only happen to me.

And he owes me a weeks wages.

So I've also been quite the serial dater. I met a guy called Chris a few weeks ago, tongue piercing, sweet, but didn't want to pay for anything and got all shirty when he found out I was seeing someone else. And it wasn't like I told him I was comitted so we left him at that.

The someone else is called Arron. I met him last summer and he looks like Simon Le Bon but I never thought he would fancy me. But someone told him and I got this text saying basically, lets get it on. So we did. Then he got all shirty cuz I'm seeing two other people but it's okay now. And he takes me out proper and pays for everything but sometimes I think hes too nice for me. And he's always saying he can't get feelings for me because I'm at Uni. Such bollocks.

The other one is Ricky. He came into the pub every Thursday after playing football in little shorts and I used to shamelessly perve on him. Then one night he stayed later than usual and him and his mate were bugging me for my number. Apparantly he'd fancied me for weeks. So he picked me up in his BIG YELLOW SPORTS CAR and it was love. He's an architect and amazing in bed and built his own house and pays for everything.

So yeah. I'm seeing a lot of Ricky and occasional bits of Arron. I like being taken out and told I'm pretty and clever and have fabulous shoes.

And workwise, apart from the big pub cock up, Lush love me, apparantly my need to talk about bollocks all the time is good for customers, as is my vast knowledge about hair and skincare. I'm loving the free stuff and the discount, and the people that work there are brill. We have an insane manager from Sheffield with a mad Yorkshire accent and amazing taste in music.

Thats all I can think of today.

Tuesday, August 9

Ah, hello?

I have taken, ahem, a rather large blog holiday and I can only apologise. I just simply haven't had time, and I mean that. I work a 50 hour week and my spare time is spent sleeping or socialising.

I logged on to my emails and felt so ashamed cuz everyone was so worried, it was so sweet of you all, and thanks so much.

Its been a crazy few weeks. I am now the owner of a lovely house in Leeds, only minutes away from where one of the London bombers lived. That's all very surreal. I've dated a whole load of guys and have had a crazy time catching up with old school friends.

I got to get to work, and I bet no one will read this cuz I bet you all think I've fucked off!

If you read this, will you spread the word?

Sunday, June 26


So for a week now, I have sat down at the computer many, many times, hands poised over the computer to try and describe what happened to me last weekend on my date.

Sadly, words fail me, so there's only one way to put it.

It was complete and utter torture.

It may well have put me off dating for a very long time.

Saturday, June 18


So as soon as I decide to start regular blogging, I am exiled to the land of No Internet Access. Argh! It's all fixed now anyway.

It's 2am, and I've just got back from work (pub) and, eeeeeeee, I have a date tomorrow!

This guy I'd never seen before was giving me looks while I was working, so I mentioned this to the boss, adding that I thought he was a bit phwoar. So he took it upon himself to set up a date- I could have died from embarrasment- but this guy is cute and lovely.

So tomorrow, please send me good vibes!

Thursday, June 16

I got my groove back.

It's been a while hasn't it?

So, during this little blog holiday, I've been really busy. I'm working here, and at my local, I'm really busting my arse at the gym, and I feel really sorted out, financially, mentally, and physically.

I have money, for once, and I actually really enjoy both my jobs. I go to the gym every other day and I'm discovering all these new muscles, I feel great.

So, now that I am 'sorted' as it were, you can take this as my official return to daily blogging. The past two weeks at home, I've felt like I have nothing to say. I was unemployed and between semesters, there wasn't really much going on with me, and my head was really just a bit empty.

I still don't have anything resembling a man, but I'm working on it.

Wednesday, June 8

Sorry, but...

I've been completely shit at posting of late haven't I?

Truth is, since Monday, I've been really busy. And when I say busy, I mean productive busy, not pissing about doing fuck all busy. I've got a job in a pub- making that 2 jobs in total, and I started that this week. It was also my friend's birthday. I've read 5 books in two days and there is one other thing.

The gym. I actually booked a one to one with a trainer, Sam, that I wasn't in love with, to get a program that is really challanging. So, I turned up on time and my favourite trainer- Ashley- who is possibly the most beautiful human being alive- said he'd be doing my program because Sam was ill.

Then the doom took over me. Ashley is the one my Mum calls 'the nasty one' because apparantly he really pushes people and has been known to make people cry. But I was brave. Internally, I knew that it was EXACTLY my luck for this to happen, but I also realised this might actually be a good thing for me.

So I told him about how I had returned to uni in May, and drank more in a month than many people will ever drink in their entire lives, and then became realy unfit because I was too hungover to do anything. I told him that I actually intended to go to the gym and work out, that I didn't want to be like those women who turn up in a push up bra and make up and do yoga in the weights room in a sad attempt to pull.

It started off just fine. We did all my cardio and chatted about uni, school, places to go out in Nottingham. I spoke about the overwhelming stupidosity of men these days, and he accused me of being picky. Of course I'm picky! If I wasn't I would end up with one of the men from Saturday night. Most had their shirts tucked in (big mistake) and had completely tragic hair. Well sorry. I'm going to be picky and I'm going to like it.

So back to the story. We moved to the weights, and foolishly, by then, I'd been fooled into thinking he was a nice person. So first machine was the leg press, which I normally do about 60-70kg on- I was told to lift my own body weight on this one. Well he told me that wasn't good enough and kept putting it up until we got to 110kg. It was like lifting my father! I was making sex faces. After that, there were many horribly heavy weights he made me do, and I was actually quite scared at how much I can lift when I try. Then he told me we'd run out of time and could come back at 10am tomorrow?

So 10am yesterday, earliest I've been up for about a year, I turned up, to do my arms and abs. This time, he underestimated how strong I am. Setting all the weights way lower than I normally do, he kept putting them up, and then pulling some odd faces. He said he didn't know many girls this strong- I felt so proud- then realised this makes me a total manbian. Who finds 'I am freakishly strong!' attractive?

Then we had a little argument over music- I won't go into it, but he did tell me to buy an mp3 player, and set me some impossibly difficult ab exercises. Then, made me make an appointment for 3 weeks time for a review. He asked me if I intended to stick to it- frankly, I'm too afraid not to. So I returned to the gym today, and had to find him having forgotten how to use ALL the machines.'I thought you'd forget' he said. Tosser. He wasn't even impressed that I had bought an mp3 player that very day!

Speaking of mp3 players, for all my love of music, I am shockingly behind in devices to play it. I've only been downloading music for about a year, my car still has no 'sound system' to speak of, and I have only owned an mp3 for a day. I always said, when I could afford it, I'd get a CD player and proper speakers in my car- but that day never came. But I bought a really cheap mp3 player- only £40. So instead of having the gym's completly shit dance music, I now have a proper soundtrack.

For cardio, it's Mylo, Prodigy, Basement Jaxx and a bit of garage. Then I have rnb music by female artists for when I do other stuff- see, when I think I've done enough, I'll be reminded that JLo, Ciara, and the rest have really good bodies and that motivates me!

So I may not be posting much in the next couple of weeks, I need to kick my arse into shape. To be honest, between working two jobs (I'm doing 50 hours a week, eek!) and brutal new gym program, and of course, going out, I'm too tired to even go shopping. But it's good for me, and once I look gorgeous (we hope) I will return to posting all the time. Okay?