I wrote that last post about a month ago but couldn't bear to post it incase something changed and my heart changed. It didn't. It caused me so much upset and it consumed my every thought for weeks because I knew that our relationship wasn't right. I didn't want to let her go (yes that's right, her) and I so desperately wanted it to work out, but I reached the point when I had to value myself. She wasn't making an effort to save anything and I understood that I deserved somebody who would never stop fighting. I reached a point where all of the stress and pain that I was experiencing wasn't worth it anymore; it was turning me into something else. To put it truthfully, it was fucking me up.
I could see that she had lost interest in me, in us and I stopped crying when I realised that she probably wasn't doing the same. I have changed so much in the past year and I didn't know what I would be without her and I thought I couldn't live without her. She was my best friend.
It's strange then, considering how happy I am now. I thought I couldn't live without her, but I can and I feel better for it. I feel so much stronger for the fact that I put a stop to something that was making me miserable and I can now move onto better things and different people. It showed me how much of myself I had invested in her and it would have been fantastic, had I seen that it maybe wasn't right.
I finished it, I let us both go. I knew that she would never utter the words, so I did it for both of us. Of course, I'm seen as the bad person now and who knows if she will speak to me again but I think we both knew that it had run its course. A course of a year, in which a lot of things had changed along with us. She really drifted away for the last month or two until I didn't even recognise her anymore and failed to pull through on our joint promises to try and change the things that weren't working (a fact which she will never admit to anybody) and I began to hate her for it. I became exposed to her empty promises and her double standards and her jealousy and the way that it was always focused on her, no matter of the situation. I hated her for the way that she watched me drown and collapse under her weight that became toxic, because she had a hold on me that I could never quite understand, when she showed no signs of the same.
So that is why I'm excited to move onto new things. All of those things that she did pushed me away and she eventually saw that I wouldn't always be there and now I'm not. It pushed me to my limit and I don't miss her. As for me, I'm a perfect goddess and of course she misses me. I'm just kidding, everybody is human and I'm sure that I probably did things too.
Even though the repercussions of the break up have been difficult, I don't miss her. But I still wouldn't change a minute of our relationship or what we had. We made some great memories and shared a lot of things and for some time, bought out the best in eachother.
I have even gained a better friend because of it. My ex never treated one of our friends well and I absolutely hated it, because our friend is such a great person and she was always one of my closest friends (something that my ex always hated because she didn't particularly like her) but now that we've all separated and gone our different ways in life, we talk everyday and she has become my best friend. I lost a best friend but gained a better one. One that I know would take a bullet and because we've both gone through a similar experience, we are able to support eachother so well and I can tell you that she is a friend for life.
Even the seemingly worst circumstances can sometimes be the best. I got thrown a curveball and I managed to catch it at the right time.
Thursday, 25 September 2014
Wednesday, 24 September 2014
Is it when.....?
How do you know when it's time to walk away? Is it when you can only see the memories of the person standing in front of you instead of the one that you're supposed to love now? Is it when all of their little things that you used to find cute aren't anymore? Is it when you no longer have the energy to fight for them? Is it when you realise that settling for normality in a world where love should be spectacular isn't good enough? Or is it when you no longer believe their promises because they're not even promises, they're empty words to try and get you to stay? Is it when you don't feel compelled to see them? Is it when you know that they will leave you by yourself and show themselves again when it suits them? Is it when you want them to feel as terrible as you do, but you know that they're not? Since when did playing games become a part of the rosta? When you both know that it has faded and burnt out but only one of you is brave enough to admit it? Is it when you can't look them in the eye when you tell them that you love them because you know that you're lying to yourself? Is it when you grow tired of the 'I'm sorry's' and the 'I love you's' and the tears because they're just a heartless attempt to get you back? Is it when you're left feeling shattered because you realise that love should never leave you like this? When their negatives replace their positives? Is it when you can't see a home in them anymore? Or when you don't have the energy to be second place anymore? Second place to the way that they love themself? Maybe it's when you don't believe them anymore?
But maybe it's all just when you grow tired. Tired of knowing that playing your heart out so much isn't the way it should be.
As Taylor Swift says, 'Love is a ruthless game unless you play it good and right' and now is the time that I understand it.
But maybe it's all just when you grow tired. Tired of knowing that playing your heart out so much isn't the way it should be.
As Taylor Swift says, 'Love is a ruthless game unless you play it good and right' and now is the time that I understand it.
Thursday, 11 September 2014
Take It All
Sometimes people take more of you than you want. Sometimes they take so much that you will never quite be the same as you were before. There's a piece of you that will never return because they have it and they won't be giving it back. I used to think that this was a good thing; one of those cute 'I have your heart' things, but when they won't give you a piece of them in return, is that good? Is it good to crave something that they won't let you have? When they're not around and it's you that is trying to see yourself again, is that really good, knowing that they won't be doing the same? When you keep trying to energise your soul after they have run it dry, how long can you go on for?
They have taken more of you than you initially bargained for and you'll never be the same. They make you more aware of what you want and what you don't and that sometimes things or situations or people aren't always what they seem, it makes you more aware. That is good though because it helps us to learn; to learn how long we should continue with something that isn't right. It teaches us to value ourselves.
Sometimes people take more of you than you want. Sometimes they take so much that you will never quite be the same again. Sometimes that's ok. Sometimes you need something like this to really value yourself.
They have taken more of you than you initially bargained for and you'll never be the same. They make you more aware of what you want and what you don't and that sometimes things or situations or people aren't always what they seem, it makes you more aware. That is good though because it helps us to learn; to learn how long we should continue with something that isn't right. It teaches us to value ourselves.
Sometimes people take more of you than you want. Sometimes they take so much that you will never quite be the same again. Sometimes that's ok. Sometimes you need something like this to really value yourself.
Sunday, 31 August 2014
Thursday, 24 July 2014
Bienvenue A Paris
We took some time in the arrivals lounge to prepare ourselves for the rush that we were about to experience. We were about 45 minutes outside the center of Paris and the next week would be a busy one; but one that I couldn't wait to start.
It started out with pouring rain as we arrived at our hotel, but we refused to let that dampen (sorry) our spirits for long and as the evening came, we had already looked around - slightly underwhelmed - the local book market, made ourselves comfortable in the nearby park, explored the lovely neighborhood and were searching for food in the closed neighborhood that Sunday evening. The fact that everywhere would be closed was something that had escaped our minds in all the excitement, so we settled for a picnic in our hotel room which suited us fine for our first night in the City of Love and Light. H was flat out asleep at 8:30pm because she had, as she kept saying, "been up for many hours" and so too had I, and was harboring a 24 illness but I refused to sleep when I could instead be standing at our window and watching the beam of light from the top of the Eiffel Tower sweep round through the darkness.
Monday was our first full day, so we headed into the center of Paris on the Metro (which for me provided endless excitement as I love train travel) and started by strolling up the Champs Elysees, amongst the crowds of Americans and Asians, to then get lost in Sephora and fall in love with a rucksack and a Penny skateboard in the Roxy/Quiksilver shop, neither of which left the shop with me.
As somebody who only buys makeup when I need it, Sephora made me feel a bit on-edge. Walking amongst the stands selling countless brands of everything - the purpose of most things slightly lost on me - was like walking in a completely different world; one with perfectly turned out blonde Parisian girls that shoved perfume samples and free makeover coupons in your face. One of the girls working on the hair styling stand genuinely looked like Carrie Bradshaw and I couldn't help but stare. I lost H for a good twenty minutes but after I had found her, she was pounced upon and as I can't even talk about makeup in English, I panicked and walked away as fast as I could.
Up to the Arc de Triomphe, or as an American so loudly pointed out, "we're at the Arch of Triumph!" and back down to the Seine where we had lunch on a boat - not bad for some budget travellers! It turned out to be one of my favourite meals of the holiday, but then again, who wouldn't love a galette on a boat in the sun?
We made our way down the river and to the Louvre museum. It's a huge glass triangle and makes a great photo. There's a shopping centre inside and as we didn't have to pay for that, we got our shop on in all the nice places.
It was a late night and we fell asleep buzzing from the day that didn't quite feel as if it had happened.
Tuesday bought with it a visit to the Pompidou Centre, which we discovered to be closed, as all museums and galleries in Paris are (a handy tip for you there) and the Notre Dame Cathedral. It was an impressive piece of architecture and feeling like I should make an intelligent comment about it but not quite knowing what, I just said, "It's quite big isn't it" and that was when I realised that "It's quite big isn't it" was probably the least intelligent comment that I could ever have made. Tuesday bought with it more rain and a kind of wetness that hydrated my bones, so we called it a late afternoon, headed back to the hotel to dry off and found a cute restaurant for dinner that evening. We finished the day off with three euro wine and fell asleep a bit drunk.
Wednesday was DISNEY! We were in the park at 9:30am and I've been to both Disney in Paris and Florida before but it still had the same magic that it did all of those years ago and we both walked round simultaneously enchanted and childishly excited. I won't say much more for those of you that have yet to go, but let me leave you with the knowledge that it will make you giddy like a little school child. Leaving at 10pm was a sure sign that it was quite good.
On Thursday, we made it into the paying part of the Louvre only to be almost unimpressed at the sheer volume of marble busts and paintings of the same people. Now I was expecting pieces of art, not people art if you get me. We made it round the whole place, much to the surprise of both of us and we even saw the Mona Lisa. As we walked into its own private side room, the swarms of people were hard to miss but the one thing that I did miss was the painting. I was looking for the huge masterpiece, to then realise that the hords of people in front of me were in front of it. It was like being at a concert with everybody pushing to try and get a picture and the energy in that room was strange. I saw the little painting of the lady sitting and again, in one of my finest moments with words, managed "Is that it?" and to be honest, I was quite unimpressed. I had seen the famous Mona Lisa and the world had not shifted, it had not inspired an epiphany within me but I was still the same. I couldn't understand why they were all pushing for a picture when Google has plenty.
Guess what we did that evening? We walked up the Eiffel Tower. Hadn't you noticed its absence? We paid our five euros to walk up the two floors or 1500 steps, which took us about three quarters of the way up the tower. We got up there at about 9:30, so the sun was setting and I stood there breathless (in both senses of the word) as I absorbed the stunning view that was the entire city as it prepared for its night time festivities. When it's dark, the Eiffel Tower sparkles gold like a shimmering disco ball for five minutes on the hour, every hour and to be up there when it was happening was truly magical.
I made it my personal challenge to walk from the first floor to the second floor without stopping on the way up and needless to say, as I stood there holding my weary legs up, I was not going to do the same back down the other way.
We grabbed an 11pm dinner from a questionable food truck at the bottom of the tower and as I stood watching the Eiffel Tower sparkle for the second time that night, with frites and saucisses in one hand and H on my other side, I felt so simply content and I didn't want that night to end.
Friday was a shopping day and although it's really not my strong suit, I did make a trip to the Pull-In shop which dramatically compromised my money situation but I had been waiting all year for the Pull-In shop so I WAS LEAVING THAT SHOP WITH SOMETHING (or somethings as it turned out). I also couldn't make it past the Roxy shop without that rucksack, so it was destined to go home with me afterall.
In the evening we trammed it over to Montmarte and I have to say, I think that was probably my favourite place. Coming out of the Metro station you are greeted by the Moulin Rouge (I'm not sure whether they used that actual windmill in the film or whether it was a prop, but anyway, it was still pretty cool) and you can go in, but it's about 100 euros for a cancan show and ain't nobody that rich. There's a side street right next to the Moulin Rouge and if you go up it, you will find the cafe that they used in the film Amelie. They actually used that cafe in the film and as H is obsessed with that film and Audrey Tautou, she stood outside it at a loss for words and, I think, suffering a minor heart attack. If you sneak a peak inside, it's a bit of an Audrey Tautou shrine so you'll know that you've got the right place. She apparently lives in Paris so I wanted to cooly run into her but that unfortunately did not happen, plus I would have had to scrape H up off the floor in her starstruck mess. The area around the Moulin Rouge is a bit seedy but it was quite a funny contrast.
Montmarte is on top of a hill and you have to get a cable car type thing up to it and it was a lovely place but completely different to the rest of Paris. I liked it best because it strangely felt very familiar and I liked that about it. The artists drawing portraits and people sitting out in the cobbled streets drinking beer and wine amongst the fairy lights is something that the rest of the hectic city doesn't offer. We had dinner under a canopy strung with fairy lights and the wine topped it off - so too, did the delicious steak - but in that moment, I wanted nothing more than to capture it for a lifetime.
On our final full day in the city we returned to the Pompidou Centre and that one was actually art, but the only downside is that H looks at everything so SLOWLY, so I had looked at everything probably about three times by the time that she had done it all once. I can tell you where each piece is, I lapped it that many times.
That took up the majority of the day and we had dinner in our neighborhood and went back to a restaurant that we went to on Tuesday because we liked it so much.
We were flying back home on Sunday, but we had just enough time before making our way to Charles De Gaulle to pay a trip to the Laduree shop, although I saw the price of the macaroons and that was my minor heart attack. But H let me have one of hers and I started with the polite, "No, no they're yours. You paid for them and they're not cheap" but a few hours later at the airport, she sat there holding them and I caved and just went "ok then, thanks". They were nice but not the amazing piece of patisserie that I had been promised about.
Paris is a city that cannot be described properly in words; to really experience it then you just have to go. It gives you a certain feeling that I'm not sure anywhere else could. With my role as translator also fulfilled, Paris left me enchanted. I was in love, but not just with Paris.
(Pictures to come)
It started out with pouring rain as we arrived at our hotel, but we refused to let that dampen (sorry) our spirits for long and as the evening came, we had already looked around - slightly underwhelmed - the local book market, made ourselves comfortable in the nearby park, explored the lovely neighborhood and were searching for food in the closed neighborhood that Sunday evening. The fact that everywhere would be closed was something that had escaped our minds in all the excitement, so we settled for a picnic in our hotel room which suited us fine for our first night in the City of Love and Light. H was flat out asleep at 8:30pm because she had, as she kept saying, "been up for many hours" and so too had I, and was harboring a 24 illness but I refused to sleep when I could instead be standing at our window and watching the beam of light from the top of the Eiffel Tower sweep round through the darkness.
Monday was our first full day, so we headed into the center of Paris on the Metro (which for me provided endless excitement as I love train travel) and started by strolling up the Champs Elysees, amongst the crowds of Americans and Asians, to then get lost in Sephora and fall in love with a rucksack and a Penny skateboard in the Roxy/Quiksilver shop, neither of which left the shop with me.
As somebody who only buys makeup when I need it, Sephora made me feel a bit on-edge. Walking amongst the stands selling countless brands of everything - the purpose of most things slightly lost on me - was like walking in a completely different world; one with perfectly turned out blonde Parisian girls that shoved perfume samples and free makeover coupons in your face. One of the girls working on the hair styling stand genuinely looked like Carrie Bradshaw and I couldn't help but stare. I lost H for a good twenty minutes but after I had found her, she was pounced upon and as I can't even talk about makeup in English, I panicked and walked away as fast as I could.
Up to the Arc de Triomphe, or as an American so loudly pointed out, "we're at the Arch of Triumph!" and back down to the Seine where we had lunch on a boat - not bad for some budget travellers! It turned out to be one of my favourite meals of the holiday, but then again, who wouldn't love a galette on a boat in the sun?
We made our way down the river and to the Louvre museum. It's a huge glass triangle and makes a great photo. There's a shopping centre inside and as we didn't have to pay for that, we got our shop on in all the nice places.
It was a late night and we fell asleep buzzing from the day that didn't quite feel as if it had happened.
Tuesday bought with it a visit to the Pompidou Centre, which we discovered to be closed, as all museums and galleries in Paris are (a handy tip for you there) and the Notre Dame Cathedral. It was an impressive piece of architecture and feeling like I should make an intelligent comment about it but not quite knowing what, I just said, "It's quite big isn't it" and that was when I realised that "It's quite big isn't it" was probably the least intelligent comment that I could ever have made. Tuesday bought with it more rain and a kind of wetness that hydrated my bones, so we called it a late afternoon, headed back to the hotel to dry off and found a cute restaurant for dinner that evening. We finished the day off with three euro wine and fell asleep a bit drunk.
Wednesday was DISNEY! We were in the park at 9:30am and I've been to both Disney in Paris and Florida before but it still had the same magic that it did all of those years ago and we both walked round simultaneously enchanted and childishly excited. I won't say much more for those of you that have yet to go, but let me leave you with the knowledge that it will make you giddy like a little school child. Leaving at 10pm was a sure sign that it was quite good.
On Thursday, we made it into the paying part of the Louvre only to be almost unimpressed at the sheer volume of marble busts and paintings of the same people. Now I was expecting pieces of art, not people art if you get me. We made it round the whole place, much to the surprise of both of us and we even saw the Mona Lisa. As we walked into its own private side room, the swarms of people were hard to miss but the one thing that I did miss was the painting. I was looking for the huge masterpiece, to then realise that the hords of people in front of me were in front of it. It was like being at a concert with everybody pushing to try and get a picture and the energy in that room was strange. I saw the little painting of the lady sitting and again, in one of my finest moments with words, managed "Is that it?" and to be honest, I was quite unimpressed. I had seen the famous Mona Lisa and the world had not shifted, it had not inspired an epiphany within me but I was still the same. I couldn't understand why they were all pushing for a picture when Google has plenty.
Guess what we did that evening? We walked up the Eiffel Tower. Hadn't you noticed its absence? We paid our five euros to walk up the two floors or 1500 steps, which took us about three quarters of the way up the tower. We got up there at about 9:30, so the sun was setting and I stood there breathless (in both senses of the word) as I absorbed the stunning view that was the entire city as it prepared for its night time festivities. When it's dark, the Eiffel Tower sparkles gold like a shimmering disco ball for five minutes on the hour, every hour and to be up there when it was happening was truly magical.
I made it my personal challenge to walk from the first floor to the second floor without stopping on the way up and needless to say, as I stood there holding my weary legs up, I was not going to do the same back down the other way.
We grabbed an 11pm dinner from a questionable food truck at the bottom of the tower and as I stood watching the Eiffel Tower sparkle for the second time that night, with frites and saucisses in one hand and H on my other side, I felt so simply content and I didn't want that night to end.
Friday was a shopping day and although it's really not my strong suit, I did make a trip to the Pull-In shop which dramatically compromised my money situation but I had been waiting all year for the Pull-In shop so I WAS LEAVING THAT SHOP WITH SOMETHING (or somethings as it turned out). I also couldn't make it past the Roxy shop without that rucksack, so it was destined to go home with me afterall.
In the evening we trammed it over to Montmarte and I have to say, I think that was probably my favourite place. Coming out of the Metro station you are greeted by the Moulin Rouge (I'm not sure whether they used that actual windmill in the film or whether it was a prop, but anyway, it was still pretty cool) and you can go in, but it's about 100 euros for a cancan show and ain't nobody that rich. There's a side street right next to the Moulin Rouge and if you go up it, you will find the cafe that they used in the film Amelie. They actually used that cafe in the film and as H is obsessed with that film and Audrey Tautou, she stood outside it at a loss for words and, I think, suffering a minor heart attack. If you sneak a peak inside, it's a bit of an Audrey Tautou shrine so you'll know that you've got the right place. She apparently lives in Paris so I wanted to cooly run into her but that unfortunately did not happen, plus I would have had to scrape H up off the floor in her starstruck mess. The area around the Moulin Rouge is a bit seedy but it was quite a funny contrast.
Montmarte is on top of a hill and you have to get a cable car type thing up to it and it was a lovely place but completely different to the rest of Paris. I liked it best because it strangely felt very familiar and I liked that about it. The artists drawing portraits and people sitting out in the cobbled streets drinking beer and wine amongst the fairy lights is something that the rest of the hectic city doesn't offer. We had dinner under a canopy strung with fairy lights and the wine topped it off - so too, did the delicious steak - but in that moment, I wanted nothing more than to capture it for a lifetime.
On our final full day in the city we returned to the Pompidou Centre and that one was actually art, but the only downside is that H looks at everything so SLOWLY, so I had looked at everything probably about three times by the time that she had done it all once. I can tell you where each piece is, I lapped it that many times.
That took up the majority of the day and we had dinner in our neighborhood and went back to a restaurant that we went to on Tuesday because we liked it so much.
We were flying back home on Sunday, but we had just enough time before making our way to Charles De Gaulle to pay a trip to the Laduree shop, although I saw the price of the macaroons and that was my minor heart attack. But H let me have one of hers and I started with the polite, "No, no they're yours. You paid for them and they're not cheap" but a few hours later at the airport, she sat there holding them and I caved and just went "ok then, thanks". They were nice but not the amazing piece of patisserie that I had been promised about.
Paris is a city that cannot be described properly in words; to really experience it then you just have to go. It gives you a certain feeling that I'm not sure anywhere else could. With my role as translator also fulfilled, Paris left me enchanted. I was in love, but not just with Paris.
(Pictures to come)
Wednesday, 18 June 2014
Who's That Girl?
A few days ago I did a catwalk show for H. As she's doing an art pre-foundation course at the moment (actually that's not true because she's finished it now) and studying fashion, she needed a model to style the clothes that she's made throughout the year. There was four of them so that meant four clothing changes at breakneck speed in between each walk and speedy it was.
The huge changing room was in a different warehouse to where the fashion show was taking place so as I was running from the catwalk to the other warehouse, I was also trying to take off as many things on the way, in preparation for the twenty second turn around (which is quite hard in heels).
The catwalk was long and on a few occasions we had to walk up and down it twice, which at first struck me with fear because I had never been so nervous about walking in all my life, but as soon as we had done the dress rehearsal before everybody arrived, I wasn't that nervous anymore but just fired up.
It is such a unique feeling that can perhaps only be described if you have done it. I, at first, felt a lot of responsibility to model the clothes that she has been working on throughout the year, as it's almost like giving someone who has no knowledge about something, a pen and asking them to take the exam in your name.
Although, as I gained the useful skill of walking quite a long time ago, I knew that I would be ok; I had also been practicing my fierce walk up and down the hallway in my uni flat when everybody was asleep at 3am for MONTHS. I was taking this shit seriously.
It was such a buzz to have the entire audience looking at me. As a girl that was once a tomboy and always compared to her hotter sister, this was exactly what I needed. I used to be the insecurest person possible when it came to my body and was used to blending in, but over the past year, I have overcome this and am confident on a whole new level. But still, to have people taking my picture (including the PRESS) and clapping as I walked out will be something that I will never forget. It was a big deal for me and as I was powering down that catwalk, I thought to myself, who was that insecure girl that I knew a year ago because if she could see what she would be doing, then maybe she wouldn't have been so uncomfortable about her body. A year ago, I wouldn't have even changed in that huge room with everybody, but I stood there in my underwear without a care in the world and I felt so proud of myself.
So if you are like I was, then please believe me when I say that you are beautiful right now and that appreciating your body for how it is and understanding that no two people look the same will help you to overcome this and to love your body. Don't worry about confidence right now, that will come and soon you won't even have to think about it.
Some people hated the twenty second clothing changes, but I loved it. That too was a massive adrenaline rush and I loved every second of the show.
I walked off the runway for the final time and all I could do was jump up and down and wish that it would happen again because I really did enjoy it.
Maybe I've found a new career path?! Well who knows.
The huge changing room was in a different warehouse to where the fashion show was taking place so as I was running from the catwalk to the other warehouse, I was also trying to take off as many things on the way, in preparation for the twenty second turn around (which is quite hard in heels).
The catwalk was long and on a few occasions we had to walk up and down it twice, which at first struck me with fear because I had never been so nervous about walking in all my life, but as soon as we had done the dress rehearsal before everybody arrived, I wasn't that nervous anymore but just fired up.
It is such a unique feeling that can perhaps only be described if you have done it. I, at first, felt a lot of responsibility to model the clothes that she has been working on throughout the year, as it's almost like giving someone who has no knowledge about something, a pen and asking them to take the exam in your name.
Although, as I gained the useful skill of walking quite a long time ago, I knew that I would be ok; I had also been practicing my fierce walk up and down the hallway in my uni flat when everybody was asleep at 3am for MONTHS. I was taking this shit seriously.
It was such a buzz to have the entire audience looking at me. As a girl that was once a tomboy and always compared to her hotter sister, this was exactly what I needed. I used to be the insecurest person possible when it came to my body and was used to blending in, but over the past year, I have overcome this and am confident on a whole new level. But still, to have people taking my picture (including the PRESS) and clapping as I walked out will be something that I will never forget. It was a big deal for me and as I was powering down that catwalk, I thought to myself, who was that insecure girl that I knew a year ago because if she could see what she would be doing, then maybe she wouldn't have been so uncomfortable about her body. A year ago, I wouldn't have even changed in that huge room with everybody, but I stood there in my underwear without a care in the world and I felt so proud of myself.
So if you are like I was, then please believe me when I say that you are beautiful right now and that appreciating your body for how it is and understanding that no two people look the same will help you to overcome this and to love your body. Don't worry about confidence right now, that will come and soon you won't even have to think about it.
Some people hated the twenty second clothing changes, but I loved it. That too was a massive adrenaline rush and I loved every second of the show.
I walked off the runway for the final time and all I could do was jump up and down and wish that it would happen again because I really did enjoy it.
Maybe I've found a new career path?! Well who knows.
Saturday, 7 June 2014
Concussed
Well, it's been a while. I've had a concussion and the doctor told me 'not to think' (not even joking) in order for my brain to stop swelling and return to its normal size - so blame him, not me. That makes sense I guess, because it is still just another muscle and not using it actually works and it has basically gone now which is great because I wasn't allowed to drink alcohol either. And that, coincidentally, is how I got the concussion.
It was my last night out at uni and after me and my flatmate had had some drinks, he randomly picked me up and ran with me around the flat in a fireman's carry - of which I was more concerned about flashing my butt to everybody due to my skirt than the fact that I was being paraded head first, AT SPEED, up and down the narrow corridors - and as he stopped in a doorway casually having a chat to one of our flatmates with me over his shoulder, he then swung round which resulted in me banging my head on the door frame.
Although me being slightly...... I won't say drunk because that gives you a bad idea of me..... but yes, drunk, I didn't feel the pain and it was only in the next few days and particularly the day after, that I realised that it wasn't a little bang on the head. I went to the hospital a week later even though I had spent that week panicking that I was actually suffering from a brain bleed, so THANKS GREY'S ANATOMY FOR MY WORRIED SELF DIAGNOSIS.
Luckily not.
It was my last night out at uni and after me and my flatmate had had some drinks, he randomly picked me up and ran with me around the flat in a fireman's carry - of which I was more concerned about flashing my butt to everybody due to my skirt than the fact that I was being paraded head first, AT SPEED, up and down the narrow corridors - and as he stopped in a doorway casually having a chat to one of our flatmates with me over his shoulder, he then swung round which resulted in me banging my head on the door frame.
Although me being slightly...... I won't say drunk because that gives you a bad idea of me..... but yes, drunk, I didn't feel the pain and it was only in the next few days and particularly the day after, that I realised that it wasn't a little bang on the head. I went to the hospital a week later even though I had spent that week panicking that I was actually suffering from a brain bleed, so THANKS GREY'S ANATOMY FOR MY WORRIED SELF DIAGNOSIS.
Luckily not.
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