If you're not angry, you're not paying attention

There's a lot going on in the world. The word 'hopeless' springs to mind. People are dying, animals are dying, forests, oceans, the world in general, is dying. And unfortunately, all we are capable of is writing Facebook rants, all we can do is march and mention @realDonaldTrump in angry tweets. It's inescapable now, the end is everywhere. The end of lives, countries, the world??? I'm joking, that's not going to happen for at least another ten years so we're fine.

But there are still some naive people that don't want to recognise that the world is speedily taking a nose dive into the back-end of Satan. So I've compiled a handy, but not very useful in the grand scheme of things, list of reasons to be angry. And maybe it'll convince people to get their fingers out and stop wasting 280 characters on telling us every day how much you just couldn't live without your boyfriend because of that one time he bought some toilet roll because you said there wasn't any left because he cares about you soooo much oh my god what a gem! (what is happening in 2018 honestly, pick your standards up off the floor, Jesus Christ alive.)

In short; you don't even have to leave your house to try and 'save the world'. Petitions are signed with our fingertips, people's voices (not necessarily the right ones) are heard now more than ever.

Words are all we have. Use the right ones.

1. 12 million tonnes of plastic end up in our oceans every year, and this number is only expected to
rise. I don't have to tell you what effect this has on plant and animal life, not after 50% of life on the Great Barrier Reef was declared dead in 2016. But that wasn't all the plastic's fault, that was also down to...

2. Global warming. Yay! There's honestly too many facts and figures to prove all the disbelievers wrong, and you probably wouldn't listen to an English student, I don't blame you tbh. So if you're not gonna listen to me, listen to NASA: https://climate.nasa.gov/evidence/

3. The bees are dying. This one's used as a culturally appropriate joke but it's actually v serious. Have y'all not seen the Bee Movie? Seriously though, from 1947 - 2008, there's been an estimated 60% loss of honey bee hives in the Americas alone. So if you see a sick bee, help a brother out, feed it a teaspoon of sugar water and place it somewhere safe.

4. Guns. This one's a tender one, I know. But here's some stats for you: according to the Gun Violence Archive, there has been 134 mass shootings in America in 2018 (it's June), in 2017, there was 346. Let's compare that to other countries;

Also, let's compare:

5. More than 300,000 people in Britain alone (1 in 200) are officially homeless or living in inadequate housing. According to the Trussell Trust (https://www.trusselltrust.org/news-and-blog/latest-stats/end-year-stats/) Between 1st April 2017 and 31st March this year, just their food bank network handed out 1.332, 952 three day emergency food supplies, 484, 026 of these were for children. (a 13% increase on the previous year) All the while, MP's are claiming for dog houses and holidays.

Before the last one, it's time for a quick-fire round.

• Education and the NHS are bracing for all-time-high cuts. There's also the risk of privatisation of the NHS, the closing down of beneficial education centres, and much more to look forward to!

• The average weekly wage for a professional football player is £50,000. The average UK doctor and hospital consultant is around £2,000 a week. Don't even get me started on nurses.

• Around 85,000 women and 12,000 men are raped in England and Wales alone every year - 11 rapes (of just adults) every. hour. And they're the ones that are reported. https://rapecrisis.org.uk/statistics.php. Again, don't get me started on the criminals who are let off to walk around scott-free and re-offend. 

• LGBTQ relationships are illegal in 74 countries. The vast majority of these they are punishable by prison or death.

• Brexit.

• Racism, homophobia and sexism are still things that are promoted in the mainstream media. 

• Donald Trump is president of the United States of America.

Speaking of Wiggy Stardust, that brings me to number...

6. There are literal children in literal cages that have been torn away from their families on the American borders. Donald Trump has given the thumbs up to 'housing' (if you can call it that) immigrant children like dogs and cattle, separated from their parents and siblings, in camps that hark back to the world's shameful history that we hoped would be left there, as history. It's abhorrent, but there's nothing we can do but tweet and protest, because in silence, you show support.

I'm Boring: Why I don't Drink

I don't drink. I'm a sober student - I know, right, how do I deal with the stress of uni without being fucked? The answer mainly consists of chocolate and Ru Paul, sometimes both at the same time. I don't have less fun, and I don't yearn for nights out and throwing up in a drain outside a kebab shop. BUT There are a few factors that contribute to my decision to pack in the Dark Fruits, so here we go.

1. It hurts. Basically my stomach is fucked - I'm missing a lining in my gut that helps tackle all the sugars and acids in alcohol. This also affects me being able to eat fruit and sweets and shit but we wont go into that. So when I wake up in the morning, it feels like my chest and stomach are on fire. I used to take daily tablets (that never really worked) to help substitute for my lack of whatever it is, but who can be bothered paying £15 for something not to work.

(1 1/2. I don't want this to come across as me making 'valid' excuses for myself as to why I don't drink. For years I had to blurt out this spiel to anyone that asked why I wasn't drinking - because if it's medical it can't be helped. You should just be able to turn to someone and say 'because I don't want to', but that never happens. Because I'm a pussy, obviously.)

2. As well as my stomach being fucked, so is my brain. From being about 10, I've suffered with anxiety and, more recently, depression. For some people alcohol and drugs help alleviate the symptoms of mental illness, but in my case, it does anything but. When you're drunk, you're supposed to revel in that light-headedness, that distant feeling that makes you feel carefree and disconnected from everything. But that's what I feel like 24/7. Being drunk makes me feel even more so; more dizzy, more paranoid; more like I want to curl up in a ball till it goes away. Hot and sweaty and suffocating when I'm supposed to be having 'fun'. Basically, you know when Will gets high in the Inbetweeners, that's me internally.

Don't get me wrong, I'd love not to be like that. I'd love to casually drink and get drunk without overthinking what's going to happen. I'd also love not for this to sound so dramatic, but it's in my blood, I'm an 'arts' student. Because it's not the end of the world, my life's still alright. I don't glare at other people around me who are drinking because it's honestly none of my business, and I shouldn't be any of theirs. (I mean, this is everyone's business now it's online forever but you do you and I'll do me xoxo.) 

My boyfriend drinks like a normal person (I'm admitting that I'm not lol) and we still go out and enjoy ourselves. It's even better when I get to watch him and other people be drunk, because I'm the one taking the unflattering photos that will never be forgotten and will haunt you forever.

So if you're going to take anything away from this shitstorm it should be just let people do what they want. Unless it's harmful or dangerous to themselves or other people or whatever, but you get me. Don't judge people for not *gasp* being a student and not wanting to get drunk or high or snort cinnamon or whatever. (Don't do the last one, speaking from experience, it's not a fantastic idea.) See, I don't have to be drunk to do stupid shit like that and endanger my nasal passages; that's all me, man.

#highonlife #dontjudgechallenge 

Also, we all know what happens when you get drunk and irresponsible sooooooo

#RIPBarb

Body Business

So, I’ve not posted on here in a while, mainly because of uni and the crazy big workload, my inherent lack of motivation and dramatic raise in stress levels. However, I think I’m ready to start getting back into it now second year’s nearly out the way and I’m starting to manage my general life a little better than I was a year ago.

A lot’s changed for me over this past year, and I’ve learnt a lot of sort-of, convincing myself they’re valuable, life lessons. So I’ve decided to share some with y’all. Because, of course, I’m more than qualified to tell strangers what to do with their lives. But they’re just little suggestions/facts that I thought 16-year-old me would’ve liked to know before getting into all that sticky business. Literally.

Just a disclaimer - these lil pearls of wisdom are mainly sex-based. There’s nothing more that I want so say about that fact, it just seems that sex-based conversation is something that people like to be warned about because, you know, taboos n that.

Sex, sex sex. Over it yet? Ok, here we go. (ft. some peng stock photos)

1. Pee for England. And your sexual health.

Cuddling after sex is great, isn’t it? But you know what’s even better? Being san-UTI. As soon as possible after you’ve finished having the funs, y’all need to get into the bathroom and pee. Don’t strain yourself or anything, but chances are you’ll need to anyway, but peeing and cleaning yourself after sex helps prevent painful infections like Urinary-Tract Infections. This may be common knowledge to like 99% of people, but I told one of my friends that they should be doing this a couple of months ago, and a look of realisation dawned on her like I’d just unveiled the meaning of life. So, you know, just tryng to help a sister out.

     2. Keep a record of your periods. Like buy a cheap diary or wall calendar or something and try to mark down when you start and finish. There are also loads of really helpful apps that do this for you, and even predict and work out when you should be starting your next one – just to avoid unnessecary anxiety attacks when you think you’re extremely late.

These are great, because everyone has their phone in their hands all the time, so you won’t forget, and it’s also more private than a calendar on your wall. But I don’t adhere to my own rules because I use a calendar so…Anyway, it doesn’t have to be obvious, like the word PERIOD or RIP ME AND MY VAGINA in big red letters, just a little circle or line, something only you should recognise. By all means, go all out if you want to, stick a negative test to the wall, there is no shame.

(I honestly think I put more effort into this picture than my past year of university)

3. (Smooth epilator)

Shave. Sideways. I’m talking about not your armpits or legs sort-of shaving. Don’t shave upwards, only if you want some lovely flesh red braille down there. Shaving sideways also means you’re less likely to form ingrown hairs and infected follicles. Unless you’re one of those people with cast-iron vaginas who use epilators or wax – in which case, I have the upmost respect for you, you absolute hero.

4. Go commando. Not during the day, unless you’re v comfortable with doing that, then go 4 it. But, when you can, try and sleep without wearing underwear or pyjamas. This gives your downstairs chance to ‘breathe naturally’, if you will, and also prevents and soothes the symptoms of thrush. Also, try to avoid tight underwear altogether, unless it’s pretty and expensive and probably only going to be worn for ten minutes.

5. Don’t be ashamed about your intimate health. And don’t buy treatments you’ve seen advertised on TV straight off the shelf before seeing your doctor, because you might think you’ve recognised the symptoms of something yourself, and you end up treating something that’s not there. This won’t do you any harm, it just wastes your time and money.

      6. Boys don’t give a shit about periods. And the ones that do really aren’t worth your time. I remember being terrified of my boyfriend even seeing me take a clean

pad out of my bag because that insinuated that I was about to remove a dirty one – and periods in boys’ minds must = ‘ew wtf’.

The first time I stayed at his house I was on, I didn’t have anything but tights and jeans to wear because I’m  genius, so I slept in t h r e e pairs of underwear, just to make sure any accidents didn’t happen. Now, it’s a completely different, because I realised it’s nothing to be ashamed of.

Bleed to your heart’s content.

What a lovely note to end it on.

R.

Music For The Soul(less)

So I've been pretty/very busy at uni and I'm trying to keep up with this blog, the one they're making me write for one of my modules that I have no idea what it's actually for, assessments that have to be submitted in two weeks, the crushing weight of adulthood that's recently come crashing down on me, and the very real threat of malnutrition and scurvy I face in my day-to-day life.

So I've just decided to make a lil suggestion list of my favourite albums that have so far helped me get through these six weeks of organised hell. Which is a stupid decision really, because finding the album covers and formatting them to the correct size and editing them to fit into blogger is gonna take so much longer than if I just spat out some bullshit about how I'm not coping living on my own. But, you know, procrastination innit.

So yeah, in no particular order:

The 1975

I Like It When You Sleep For You Are So Beautiful Yet So Unaware Of It

Track Pick:

If I Believe You

Arctic Monkeys

Whatever People Say I Am That's What I'm Not

Track Pick:

A Certain Romance

Jamie T

Trick

Track Pick:

Tinfoil Boy

Twenty One Pilots

Vessel

Track Pick:

Holding Onto You

The Vaccines

What Did You Expect From The Vaccines?

Track Pick:

Wetsuit

Pink Floyd

The Wall

Track Pick:

Mother

George Ezra

Wanted On Voyage (Deluxe)

Track Pick:

Song 6

My Chemical Romance

The Black Parade

Track Pick:

Cancer

Foster The People

Torches

Track Pick:

Don't Stop (Colour On The Walls)

Bombay Bicycle Club

So Long, See You Tomorrow 

Track Pick:

Eyes Off You

The Beatles

Yellow Submarine

Track Pick:

Only A Northern Song

Alt-J

This Is All Yours

Track Pick:

Blodflood Pt II

That didn't take me an hour and a half at all, nope.

R.

Nostalgia and Tangents

I've always been brought up with literature, so every night, either my mum or dad would perch on the edge of my bed, crushing my leg as they did so, and read me a story. It's funny how I can still remember the names of each book like; 'Pass the Jam, Jim', 'Charlie's Bucketful of Dinosaurs' and 'Guess How Much I Love You'. And recently, whilst in the process of moving out of my family home and rummaging through our murky loft in search for suitcases, I came across a box. This box was full to the brim with old nursery rhyme collections and mouldy bedtime stories. So instead of packing, I reclined into a habitual state of procrastination and instead began skimming through the faded pages of my childhood.

As I read, the response might be as expected - an overwhelming sadness and not-yet-decided-on resignation to the fact that I'm now an adult, an adult who's moving away from her parents who used to crush her leg and read her bedtime stories. The act of me re-reading these books seemed to change the atmosphere in the room, and not by the asbestos particles that were probably seeping into my lungs every time I turned a page, but by pure nostalgia that was bleeding through every line, every obvious rhyme, every cracked spine. (I didn't intend for that to rhyme itself but hey, I'm a natural, what can I say? #sarcasm)

Obviously, by osmosis, when my mum saw me weeping over the books she began to weep over me weeping over the books and then the dog saw us and started to cry too and it was just a horrible, horrible mess of 'please ring me's and 'please don't forget to eat properly's and 'please don't forget about me's. Like, you're my mother, you gave birth to me, I still panic if I lose you in ASDA, I'm not going to wake up one morning and be like 'who's this strange woman who I've got thirty-three missed calls and twenty-seven un-opened texts from?'

Well, this went off on a weird tangent. One paragraph of me actually talking about what I should've been talking about and the rest of it utter rubbish. This will soon turn into a pattern of becoming everything I write about.At least I can add this to my list of three goals I've been asked to write about by my tutor at uni, which brings it up to grand total of two out of three.

#goals
1.) To get used to the change in essay structure and freedom within my writing, and also within my course and university as a whole.
2.) Don't ramble and go off on weird tangents within my writing - it doesn't help with the already-weird vibes you give off.
3.) IOU a third goal.

The Bags Under my Eyes are Counterfit

So Last Saturday I moved out. It's been six days. I hate it already. I mean, the parties are good when I go to them, the people are really nice (most of them) and the room isn't falling apart around me, so I guess I'm alright. Not a fan of the lack of sleep or the actual effort it takes to feed myself now, but it's all about that uni experience right? *cries through Nutella-covered fingers* And freshers doesn't even officially start until next week, we're technically in 'pre-freshers' right now, so it's practically freshers just a lot less organised and a lot more shitty music blaring from the flats above me. Listen, right, I'm fine with the music, but why is it SO shit? Where is the Smash Mouth??

I don't officially start my course until the 28th, so that's twelve more days until I have an excuse to show my true colours and de-evolve back into my sociopathic introvert cocoon. There are so many things stressing me out at the moment, and these two weeks are supposed be the most chill time of my life but I don't see that happening. So here's a list of twelve shitty things that're happening in my
newly-found independent life right now.

1.) I'm tired as fuck

2.) My maintenance loan doesn't come through for another week or so
3.) Yesterday I spent £84 on a bus pass
4.) Yesterday I spent two and a half hours on a bus, needing to pee the whole way there
5.) I just had to spend over £200 on books that only equate to half of this years' studies
6.) I don't have enough personal inspiration to actually get up before midday
7.) I don't have enough personal inspiration to actually make myself something to eat that doesn't come out of a packet
8.) I've gained at least 3lbps in the last six days
9.) I'm running out of toilet roll
10.) My Spotify account cancelled itself today because there's not enough money in the bank
11.) I brought 40 DVDs to uni to play on my laptop, and my laptop doesn't have a DVD player in it
12.) Sometimes I really need to pee first thing in the morning but I'm always too lazy to get up, so by the time I'm 65 I'm probably gonna be pissing myself on the daily

Short and bitter but I legitimately nearly fell asleep while typing this.

R.

Don't Look Back in Anger

I just spent a good hour scrolling back through all my old blog post and internally screaming as I scan over all the horrible puns and awkward writing. I mean, I still use horrible puns and write awkwardly, but slightly less so now. And all of these cringe-worthy posts were only written a year ago, so I guess I just have to thank A-Level English for digging me out of the cesspit that was 17-year-old Rebecca's writing style.

But I'm not deleting any of these old posts, because they are all something I remember putting a considerable amount of effort into at the time. Although you wouldn't think it, looking at all the horrendously obvious grammar and spelling mistakes that I completely overlooked and/or couldn't be bothered changing. So I'm not deleting them, because I always think you should embrace the shitty and embarrassing moments and, mostly for me, phases of your life because that's what made you who you are today. (Exhibits a, b, c, d and e:)

Honestly look at me, wasn't I precious? I now find beaches, bowling alleys, Oompa Loompas (if you couldn't tell, that's what I was meant to be), bow ties and Quavers mentally harrowing. I mean, the fashion choices. If anyone, I should thank my parents for being so supportive of me and letting their child actually leave the house looking like that. Look at those highlights, I look like a fucking Werthers Original. And yeah, ok, I actually suited the ginger hair because I am seriously lacking some melanin, but somebody should've sat me down, and taught me how to master the messy bun. Because whatever the look was what I was trying to go for, that definitely wasn't it.

I didn't mean for this to turn into a roast yourself challenge - I don't know whether I feel better or worse for it. Anyway, the moral is, I've forgotten what the moral is. Embrace your shit? No, don't actually embrace your shit, that could lead to some considerable health problems. See, back at it again with the bad puns. I honestly can't stop, I'm making myself cringe. Ok, I'll just crawl back into my metaphorical hole.

I'm probably going to live to regret putting these pictures on the internet. Now would be the right time to say 'yolo' but I don't hate myself that much.

R.

Stressed, Depressed and Never Gets Dressed

So I'm starting university in approximately 14 days, 23 hours and 2 mintues. 14 days. That's like 2 weeks. It is 2 weeks. What am I going to do? What am I going to pack? Is my dog going to miss me? I honestly can't comprehend moving out of a house I've lived in for 18 years, 7 months and 12 days, because I'm such a weird person when it comes to change. It unnerves me and I find it uncomfortably upsetting because I like to be in control, I like to know where I'm headed and have a clear grasp on things as they pan out. But change doesn't allow that, it's different and scary and feels somewhat unnatural to me. But it's necessary, even though I wish it wasn't.

And if it's not enough that the act of actually moving out and going to university isn't stressful enough, I have money to worry about as well. Student bank accounts, TV licenses, insurance, shopping (oh god I need to learn how to cook. Well, I can already cook, I just need to learn how to cook better) and all the people I seem to speak to all seem quite calm and collected about the whole thing, with their response most of the time being, 'I'll just get my mum and dad to help.' But my parents can't, and even when they can, I don't want them to. I kind-of want to be a confident, independent adult, capable of doing confident, independent adulty things, but I'm not ready to adult yet. Take me back to year 7 where the biggest thing I had to worry about was forgetting my P.E. kit, and the teachers making me wear a t-shirt that smelled like it'd been soaked in a tramp's arse sweat. 

And everybody's getting so excited to be moving into halls and going to uni, but I'm not. Well, I am slightly, but nowhere near the extent of the other people I've spoken to. I've not even started and I already want freshers to be over. I know that makes me sound incredibly weird and dull, but I'm an extrovert trapped inside an introvert's body - so unless I find people who are bearable to talk to (aka friends), and fast, freshers is literally going to be the week straight from hell.

Thing is, I'm a very organised person, so I love making lists. Like, fuck yoga and whale noises and waves crashing onto a sandy beach - lists are the shit. I make lists for literally everything, and most of the time, it calms me. It means I have everything I need to know/do/buy right in front of me. (mainly because my long-term memory is absolutely shocking) But sometimes they only serve as a reminder of all the stuff I have yet to accomplish, and it's just sitting there on my wall like 'you're such a failure'. So then I have a mental breakdown, tear down the list, panic - because now I've forgotten what I needed to do, re-write the list and the cycle starts all over again. At least the stress of A-Levels is now out the way, because my room then was literally list central. But they must'v worked, because I got some bangin' results (A*, A, B, boiiiii). Ok so, I'll try never to say 'bangin'' or 'boiiiii' ever again, but I can't promise anything.

But hopefully I'll find something to do with my time other than making lists, coursework and going out, because clubs for me are the equivalent of what happens when you throw a cat into a lake. I mean, I haven't tested this theory, because I'm not a sadist, but I'm guessing it's a pretty similar reaction. I'm going to force myself up at an ungodly hour to go to the freshers fair and try to find some sort of sport society or whatever to keep me active 'n' that. You've no idea how much I had to force myself to type the word 'sport' without involuntarily running away and hiding in a dark hole somewhere. But yeah, uni resolution is to be more active!

Ha.

R.

(I still don't think 3 awkward stock images are enough for one post)

There we go. Perfect.