I May be a Freak, but I'm a Freak with Snazzy Pens: Cult Pens Review

I'm a freak. There are a great many layers to my weirdness and a whole array of kinks and quirks that contribute to my overall uniqueness, but essentially what it all boils down to is that I am a fairly quirky human being. I keep a box of buttons, organised by colour, I have over 150 Disney songs on my Ipod and I have a paralysing fear of cows (they just have such a menacing look about them!).

Another one of my odd traits is my obsession with stationary. I mean, is it really normal to have so many feelings about post-it notes and page dividers? And surely most people wouldn't include a label maker on their list of desert island must-haves, right? But I have a deep-rooted love for anything that can organise, colour-code or sub-divide any aspect of my life and there's simply nothing I can do about it.

So, when I decided to undertake a new project last weekend, I'm sure you'll now understand why said project simply could not go ahead until I'd ordered myself a new packet of fineliners. Fineliners were, after all, the only thing that kept me sane throughout the torturous months spent drafting my dissertation. Actually, Jack Daniels may have played a part too, but mostly it was down to having all of my spider diagrams colour-coded and cute-looking.

And now we finally arrive at the point of this post. On my search for the best value packet of fineliners I could get my hands on, I came across I website called Cult Pens and, if you're a freak like me then you need this website in your life.

They have every type of pen you could possibly need in your life as well as some other stationary-type bits and bobs and they had the best price I could find for those fineliners I so desperately needed. Not only that, but shipping was free and crazy fast (I placed my order Wednesday evening and here we are on Friday and I already have them). And not only that, but my parcel also contained some sneaky surprises. I got some complimentary Staedtler pencils to go with my Staedtler pens and...a packet of Haribo!

As if I wasn't excited enough about the fineliners, they go and throw in some scrumptious sweeties as well!

So I know the vast majority of you will think this post, along with my enthusiasm for colour co-ordination, is very strange and/or unnecessary, but when I find a product or a company that impresses me, I like to share it with you guys. Sometimes that may be a new App or a restaurant and sometimes it's a shop that specialises in pens. That's the beauty of this blog. You really never know what you're going to get...

Also, Cult Pens in no way paid me or offered me a lifetime supply of free pens or anything in exchange for this post (trust me, if I had a lifetime supply of pens coming my way, you'd all know about it). In fact, they have no idea I'm even writing this and, in all probability, will also think I'm a freak for my excessive pen enthusiasm.

But that's fine. Because I am a freak.

Happiness in Photographs...with Filters: 100 Days of Happy.

I'm sure everyone is familiar with the 100 Days of Happy Instagram challenge. Well, I decided to give it a go and, despite the fact that mine lasted more like 150 days due to my overwhelming forgetfulness and inability to count, I'm finally done. So, in celebration of my commitment to technology (you all know how much I hate it) and because nothing particularly exciting has been happening recently for me to write about (apart from that super exciting thing I can't share with you yet) I thought I'd do a recap of my 100 days of happiness. Some are fun, some are weird, some are tenuous, but here we go.


Day 1

Day 1: (even though I failed at 30 days of happy) New shoes. Because sometimes you need to feel like Barbie #100daysofhappy #shoes #pink

It all started with my pretty pink shoes. I saw them in Miss Selfridge and simply had to own them. I don't think I've actually worn them yet though...


Day 2

Day 2: My beloved Britney may be off the the scrap yard, but today I got an early graduation present #100daysofhappy

This weekend I surprised my parents by taking a train back home from Exeter and turning up on their doorstep. They, in turn, surprised me with the news that my beloved KA, Britney, was being scrapped because the mechanic couldn't even complete the MOT. Something about some part of the engine falling out...

Anyway, on Day 2 I picked up my new car, Tink. She's lime green. We go on epic adventures.

Day 12

Day 12: Hurray! Winning the lottery was a little bonus for this week #100daysofhappy

This was such a great day! My parents were away in Prague and, being the wonderful daughter I am, I cleared out all the kitchen draws. I found about a dozen old lottery tickets and, what do you know, three of them were winners! Naturally I kept the winnings as payment for cleaning the draws.


Day 23

Day 23: Free pizza! I got to sample the new Pizza Express menu today to write up a review. I am so full it hurts #100daysofhappy

This was the day Hayleigh and I went and stuffed our faces with free pizza so I could write up a review for Pizza Express. Yes, I'm more than happy to work in exchange for food.


Day 27

Day 27: And breathe! My mother won't allow celebratory champagne with lunch but it's a celebration nonetheless

After all the tears, the late nights, nightmares about Miss America and after spending so much time reading Gone with the Wind that I began to believe the Yankees really were coming, on Day 27 I finally handed in my dissertation. The title? From Hoop Skirts to Daisy Dukes: The Changing....umm...something about the Southern Belle. Clearly I've repressed all memories of it. 


Day 53

Day 53: "Nanna, auntie Aimee wants a whisky." How well trained these children are! #100daysofhappy #worldsbestaunt #alcohol #jackdaniels

As much as every day with my little munchkins is a happy day, it's quotes like this that make me realise how blessed I am to have such a cool niece and nephew. 


Day 65

Day 65: I may look anything but happy in this picture, but that's only because I was hungry. It's day 3 of the #clean9 and I've lost 9lbs already and feel great! That's something to smile over. (But I could do with a stack of pancakes right now) #100daysofhappy #weightloss

Yes I craved pancakes for the entire week and yes I was grumpy when everyone else was chomping on burgers and I had to sit there sipping on water, but I really did lose 9lbs in 9 days! That made me very happy.


Day 73

Day 73: I can't believe it, but the most amazing three year adventure has come to an end all too quickly and today I graduated. It was a fantastic day in spite of the ridiculous hat #100daysofhappy #graduation #hooray

Day 73 was my graduation day. I drank champagne, threw a stupid hat into the air, and hugged Floella Benjamin! And, on top of all that, my hair remained pretty much under control for the most part. Success! 


Day 97

Day 97: World's coolest birthday present. Entrepreneur Barbie! She will sit on my desk to inspire me each morning. Yes, I'm 23. #100daysofhappy #barbie #grownup

A+ to one of my closest friends, Thorny, for paying attention to my ramblings about the release of Entrepreneur Barbie and getting me one for my birthday. I LOVE her! Don't tell me Barbie is a bad role model to girls. No other woman has been a doctor, astronaut, vet, politician, teacher, and entrepreneur, all whilst rocking killer shoes.


Day 100

Day 100 (finally!): At long last I have my official results from university. I have graduated with a 2:1 with honours! Better late than never #100daysofhappy

I wasn't exactly thrilled when I got a kidney infection back in January and had to miss my exam. It meant I had to defer it until August and haul my butt all the way back to Exeter to sit it during the summer after the lease on my house was up. Then I couldn't get my result the same time as everyone else, but at last, on Day 100, I could officially say I had a 2:1 from the University of Exeter. 


And so 100 days (or significantly more) have passed and I've had plenty to be happy about. True, I omitted some of the more mundane ones ("I'm happy about...my bed"), but I really liked this challenge. And it was nice to sit down and look through them all this evening. So if you haven't done it yet, maybe you could give it a go. 

And you should DEFINITELY follow me on Instagram. @aimee_oddball. 

Life After the Dissertation

I've been back in Exeter for an entire week now and I have the dwindling bank balance and bags under my eyes to prove it. There has been an abundance of cocktails, many bad life choices (I have no idea why I insist on taking advice from strangers I meet in the girls' toilets) and many days like today, curled up in my bed of shame, watching 'Barbie: Life in the Dreamhouse' on my brother's Netflix account.

But, while many of my post-dissertation celebrations have involved tacky, overpriced Exeter night clubs and hidden hip-flasks, my housemates and I have found other forms of entertainment over the last few days. Of course, when you live in Devon it's sometimes necessary to think outside the box. The most exciting thing we could find within an hour's drive was a hedgehog hospital, which, if anything, would surely make for a very depressing day out. So, when we decided to seek out fun on Tuesday it was...varied.

"...our cultural adventure..."

I was forced out of my bed of pain at an unearthly hour to go to Brody's all you can eat breakfast buffet. Usually I'm not a big fan of buffets (or salad bars for that matter), but I loved it! Up until the point where I'd eaten so much that it hurt to breathe. It wasn't quite on par with the breakfast buffet I had in Florida (then again, does anyone really need ice-cream for breakfast?), but it was delicious. There is no such thing as too many pancakes.

After a brief time of resting my head on the table with a glazed stare, too full to move or communicate in any way, we headed across the road to the Royal Albert Memorial Museum. I can't say I learned a great deal, but they had costumes to try on and mosaics to play with so it was a big hit with everyone. I particularly enjoyed the World Cultures exhibition, which was a bit like being on the It's a Small World ride in Disneyland. But without the boat. Or the cool music.

When our cultural adventure was over we decided the logical thing to do next was to splurge on white clothing to take home and tie-dye! Let me just say, I had no idea Primark pants was so large. I now have four pairs of enormous tie-dyed knickers, which really aren't in any way as cool as I'd envisioned.

What a great way to pass an afternoon though! Yes, Jess may have dipped her hand into the bucket of purple dye without her glove on and stained her fingers. Yes, we may have forgotten to take the clothes off the washing line before the rain started and made all the dye run. And yes, to anyone walking past our conversations on why whites are easier to work with than blacks may have sounded like the ravings of a group of racists rather than the innocent discussions of a merry band of crafters with fabric dye. But now I have a new skill, some unique t-shirts and some hideous giant pants. Overall I'd call that a success.

I'm glad I have housemates who enjoy a day of trying on ridiculous hats and flicking dye onto pillowcases. How boring it must be to be normal! 

Rumour has it next week we're going to paint mugs!

Prepare Yourselves for Food Envy: Pizza Express Review!

It seems like it's been a good while since I wrote my last post so I apologise to those of you who use this blog as a means of procrastination. I know there are quite a lot of you. I get stopped by drunken people I I've never met before in Timepiece and Arena who tell me my blog posts are their favourite distraction from revision or dissertation writing, which I love. It's kind of like being a really low grade celebrity. In a really low grade club. But then they ask me about the Beacon and I have to explain my break up story to someone I've never met before when I'm half a bottle of whisky worse off than I probably should be. I don't know what it is about the queue in the women's bathroom, but I always get into the most in-depth conversations with people.

Anyway, on a less irrelevant note, I got an email from someone at Pizza Express a few weeks ago, inviting me to go and sample their new lunch menu and write up a review on it. So, I made time in my crazy schedule, jam-packed as it is with dissertation-writing and napping, to stuff my face. I know, I know, my life's a chore.

I invited Hayleigh to come along with me. She was impressed with my promotion to official-one-day-pizza-sampler.

"They invited you to sample the menu? Wow! Your blog is practically a real job!" 

"I would totally do a full-time job that paid me in pizza" I told her. "...I just don't think my mother would accept rent in edible form."

So we headed over to the Swansea Pizza Express on Friday. Despite my sordid love-affair with pizza, I'd never been to Pizza Express so the review that follows is my honest opinion from the point of view of a brand new customer. 

Firstly, I want to admit that I went there with every intention of making healthy choices. What with my new diet, training for the 5k, and bikini season lurking on the horizon, I've actually been converted into a salad-eater of late. I'm never going to be particularly enthusiastic about carrot sticks, but I'm trying my best to make good choices. And really, there was no excuse for me not to be healthy because the lunch menu has all kinds of salads and soups. But I caved and had a pizza. And dough-balls. And a chocolate fudge cake. 

But first, let me start by saying that I really liked the place itself. It wasn't at all what I expected of a pizza restaurant. I'm not entirely sure what I did expect, but the picture I had in my head wasn't nearly as nice. Plus they had a bar stocked with Jack Daniels. I'm quick to notice the most important things first. Overall, great first impression.

Our waiter was friendly, (albeit probably a little confused by the obsessive way I was making notes) and the food came quickly. And now I will attempt to describe how delicious my pizza was. I had the Pollo ad Astra, which was just a little spicy and entirely yummy. It was the perfect size for lunchtime and the base was thin and crispy and...I just want another one right now. Like I said, I'm a pizza lover. It's my favourite food. So when I hold my hands up and say a pizza was particularly scrumptious, I have a lot of experience to back that up. I also had dough-balls on the side on Hayleigh's recommendation, which were nice. 

Hayleigh, on the other hand, actually was healthy and went for the Leggera Superfood Salad, which she said was lovely. Looking back, I should have tried some, partly for a more well-rounded review and partly because I had a little food envy. I actually looked like a meal rather than a plate of leaves, which, let's face it, is a big deal for a salad.  

"absolutely, bring on the cake"

When we had scraped our plates (literally) our waiter came over to clear everything away.

"Would you like to review the desert menu too?" He asked.

The answer to that question was and will always be, 'absolutely, bring on the cake'.

Cue me making my way through a generous slab of chocolate fudge cake with ice cream. It It was well worth however many million calories I had to go and burn off afterwards. Hayleigh had the cheese cake (again, why did I not steal it off her plate for the good of the review?) which looked delicious. She had nothing but good things to say about it. And, yet again, we both ate every mouthful. Walking back to the car I was so full I literally had cramp in my side.
was...perfect. I really think I can honestly say it was the best chocolate fudge cake I've ever had (and, trust me, there have been many servings of chocolate fudge cake in my life). It wasn't heavy or sickly like some of them can be.

So I give the new Pizza Express lunch time menu two very enthusiastic thumbs up. I was surprised at the prices considering how tasty the food is and how decent the portion sizes are. Hayleigh and I will definitely be making another trip. Maybe next time we'll dip into the Jack Daniels too.

Check out the menu for yourself!

My Biggest Challenge: Week 1

Let's clarify something. I can't run. At all.

At this point people tend to think I'm being modest and will attempt to say comforting things like, "Everyone can run if they really try", "I'm sure you aren't that bad", or, worst of all, "Oh, me neither". I don't even want to think about the number of times someone has forced me to don a pair of trainers and head outside for a jog because 'they can't run either'. The result is always the same. They prove that, in reality, they can run, while I stagger behind, wishing I could catch up with them...so I could strangle them for making me go running.

I can't pinpoint exactly what it is that makes me entirely incapable of putting one foot in front of the other. My Dad ran marathons back in the day so a few years back I asked him to survey my technique. After a few disastrous sessions he said he'd never seen anything like it, it defied all logic, and that there was nothing he could do for me. My extreme lack of co-ordination and balance have something to do with it, I'm sure, but my failure seems to run deeper than that. Even as a small child I refused to play tag. I simply could not do it.

So, because life isn't difficult enough with my dissertation still buzzing around my head like a swarm of gnats and an essay due next week I've lost all my notes for, I've signed myself up for a sponsored run. Because apparently deep down I must be some kind of masochist. But what's the point in asking people to sponsor me for something easy or that I enjoy like fancy dress, a bake sale, or a cocktail drinking marathon (although you can add that last one to my list of things to do this summer)?

The 5k (yes, 5 whole k) is in June and I thought I'd share my progress in a weekly update of all the horrors of training. Because what's the point in inflicting misery and humiliation on myself if no one else can enjoy it?

Week 1

Day 1

I downloaded a running app to help me out. What I really need is some kind of magical genie, but this will have to do. It's called 5k Runner and it's supposed to get you 5k ready in just 8 weeks. It's a really useful app and if you're looking to take up running and have no will power or clue where to start, I highly recommend it. Even I can keep up with it, although I have to make allowances for the time I spend tripping over my own feet.

Letting go of the treadmill was my first big challenge. People really downplay how traumatising it can be to use one of those machines. My feet rarely do what they're supposed under normal circumstances so when the ground started moving I was convinced I was going to end up with an injury.

Day 3

I fell off the treadmill.

I was jogging, concentrating on the weird way my arms were moving and trying not to look down at my feet (watching the treadmill move makes me nauseous. I know, I am a model athlete) and then everything went wrong. My arm must have gotten tangled in the wire of my earphones so my phone flew across the gym. I turned around in shock, my feet forgot to move and the treadmill kept going. I ended up twisted in a weird angle, unable to understand what was happening, one foot on the treadmill, one foot off, incapable of making it stop. The guy directly behind me was totally judging me.

Day 6

I did not fall and managed to do the whole workout without stopping for fear of falling, which is a first. Hopefully no one else at the gym has picked up on the fact that my maximum running time is still only a minute (the app is building me up, run a little, walk a little), but the grey-haired lady on the treadmill next to mine almost definitely noticed that she was running significantly faster than me.


So week one is over, my legs hurt, I have some bruises and the gym instructor definitely thinks I'm weird. But I've raised £70 for a really good cause and the physical suffering of running makes a nice change from the mental suffering associated with writing my dissertation.

And now I am going to shamelessly promote my justgiving page where you can keep up to date with my fundraising...or, you know, donate to a good cause.

My Fundraising Page!!

I'm raising money for Action Duchenne, which is a very important charity to me.

Wish me luck in the upcoming week. I don't want to fall again...

There's No Place Like Home

It's been a while since I last wrote a post. I've been slowly sinking in a pool of despair and MLA referencing, but I'm officially half-way through my dissertation and the end is finally in sight. I'd planned out the entire month of April to ensure I had half a hope of retaining what was left of my sanity. The plan was to spend the first two weeks at my desk until I had at least a solid first draft, to go back home to Wales the next week and force everyone to proof read it, and then spend the last week sleeping soundly, minus the looming prospect of antebellum-themed nightmares.

I made it to the 3rd of April before I abandoned that plan entirely and booked a train ticket home.

I decided to be very sneaky about the whole thing and surprise my loving parents by turning up on their doorstep two weeks early. So, last Saturday, after five hours of public transport and a taxi ride, I burst through the front door, ready to spread joy.

"Surprise! Your favourite child is home!"

My father, who had been napping on the sofa, looked like he was caught somewhere between thrilled and terrified. My mother appeared at the top of the stairs a few seconds later and merely said,

"Shh! Your brother's sleeping."

Clearly the favourite child had been there all along and was currently sleeping off his night shift in my bed.

As much as I wanted to collapse on the sofa, enjoying the novelty of warmth and cleanliness (student houses are grim to say the least), it was my cousin's 18th birthday party that night. I had just enough time to stick some rollers in and don some fabulous shoes.

Family gatherings are always eventful, but they are downright dangerous when Dave the Laugh, my older cousin's boyfriend, is there. He lurks around the house, waiting for the opportune moment to swoop in and top up your drink, which sounds great, but, in reality, borders on deadly. On this particular night it led me to declare,

"I'm going to town!"

I do NOT look like the older cousin...

Yes, I was going to crash my little cousin's first night out. And in Station Road of all places. I have plenty of good memories of Station Road. But I was 16 then. And fishbowls were on sale.

Totally unprepared for a night out and two and a half bottles of wine worse off when I thought I'd only gone through one, I had to borrow a handbag. And a phone. And money. But off I went with my cousin and her friends, totally oblivious to the fact that I had somehow become the uncool, old person.

Thankfully, I wasn't the only uncool, old person in Station Road that night. Hayleigh was there with some of our friends. I wish I could describe the level of gleeful screeching that occurred when we spotted each other at the bar. I imagine it's the kind of noise you'd expect to hear if dolphins were reunited after 20 years apart. Dolphins on crack. And perhaps even more shrill than that.

It wasn't long before my cousin had ditched me (I swear, I used to be cool!) and Hayleigh and I ended up in a bizarre after-party in a nearby hotel. It wasn't so much a party as a random collection of people arguing over which drinking game to play while I insisted on slurring through stories about last year's adventures in Europe. All I know is, a Scottish man was wrapped in a blanket and there was an excessive amount of gin.

And, in a nutshell, that's the story of how, on my first night back in Wales, I turned up on my parents' doorstep at 4am and came to spend the entire following day curled up in a ball, cursing Dave the Laugh.


But, before I go back to my cave of despair and dissertation-writing, I'm going to do a little shameless self-promotion. I've set up a Youtube channel (yes, in spite of my technophobia) dedicated to me talking about beauty products, and generally making a fool of myself in front of the camera. So here's my latest video if you want to take a peek.

And, because I have such little faith in my ability to actually use the computer, I'll post the link to the channel...just in case.

Youtube Channel

I Removed my Face for a Good Cause. Next Time I'm Drinking Cocktails...

So far, it's been a pretty average week. On the weekend I went for a glass of wine with Jess and Kirsty and ended up stumbling home at 4am after a night of dancing, hiding our coats in condiments draws to avoid cloakroom charges, and getting into the most bizarre arguments with middle aged women in fancy dress who don't understand that Northern Ireland is a country. For the rest of the week I have been pretty much banging my head against useless textbooks and trying to form a 3,000 word chapter for my dissertation out of the 3 convoluted bullet points I have.

But this week has been somewhat out of the ordinary. For a reason I at first could not understand, dozens of makeupless selfies started to clog up my Facebook newsfeed. Initially I was confused, partly because I didn't recognise any of the faces staring out of the pictures at me (apparently, I'm not the only one who looks like a completely different person without my customary 5 layers of makeup on). But it quickly became clear what was happening. Snap a picture of yourself sans makeup, upload it to Facebook, nominate your friends (or enemies), and donate £3 to Cancer Research UK.

Once that was cleared up, my confusion quickly turned to terror. This thing was spreading faster than the plague. Eventually it would find me and, as the day progressed and the number of selfies doubled, then tripled on my newsfeed, I knew it wouldn't be long before a nomination came my way.

It was waiting for me when I woke up the next day. And so was a spot on the end of my nose. Because having to expose your naked face to the world isn't bad enough. But I did it. I won't lie, it was a challenge. I don't have great self esteem. Yes, I'll walk into a room and talk to anyone. Yes, I'll be the last one dancing when they turn the lights on in Arena at the end of the night. And yes, I do insist on wearing ridiculous fancy dress costumes whenever possible. But ask me to take my makeup off or tie my hair into a pony tail and expose my Dumbo ears and I freak out. Welcome to my inner crazy.

But what really surprised me were all the negative comments. Not about my naked face, although there are probably a few of those floating around the place. About the campaign itself. I've read articles about how this trend won't achieve anything, Facebook statuses about how stupid
the idea is, and, of course, numerous male comments stating, "seeing as it's for Breast Cancer, why don't you just get your boobs out?" Original.

But the last I read, the Cancer Research text line was overrun with people making donations and the campaign raised over £1 million pound in 24 hours. I may not enjoy posting a picture of my real face online and I doubt anyone out there enjoys looking at it, but this crazy random idea has done a lot of good. But I would appreciate it if the next campagin was something less scarring. Like, "Nominate 3 friends to go grab a coktail and donate money to Cancer Research." In fact, let's just make that a thing right now.

F-Words All Round: Freebies, Fun, and Foul Cocktails.

Last Tuesday I somehow managed to meet all my deadlines, slept for 14 hours, and drank Jack Daniels to celebrate. I ignored the fact that I have another 10,000 words due in by the end of April and decided to give myself the rest of the week off, to soak up as much fun as I possibly could before I went back to a life of instant noodles and looking like death warmed up. Also, I have a little freebie at the bottom of the post. You know, because I love you.

"...a curdled goo..."

On Thursday I headed to Bristol to celebrate Bethan's birthday. Yes, the Bethan I went to Europe with, who got stuck in a turnstile in Paris and made topless Irish men bench-press beer kegs when she got lost in a night club in Prague. Needless to say, the girl is a hoot. 

I was definitely unreasonably excited on the bus. I don't know whether it was the relief of not having to read about degeneration anxiety in the nineteenth century, glee at finally having time to apply eyeliner, anticipation at the thought of a night out in a city that has more than three clubs, or a combination of all of these things. Either way, I shamelessly danced to myself while I listened to Britney Spears on my Ipod. 

Bethan had stocked up on alcohol...in a big way. She wanted to make cocktails. The Sex on the Beach was great, the Woo Woos contained a whole new host of ingredients, but sadly, her attempt at Pina Coladas just resulted in a curdled goo. All the same, it took a lot for me to persuade her not to drink it. 

Bethan and her brother have birthdays pretty much back to back and, seeing as all of our friends were busy being boring with jobs and uni, we tagged along with her brother's birthday celebrations. We ended up in a place called Thekla. It was...well, they certainly weren't playing any Britney Spears. It was what we called 'emo' music way back when I was thirteen, a lot of screaming and people throwing their hair around, the girls in high tops and mini skirts, the guys with more eye makeup than me. 

I got caught smuggling in my glittery pink hipflask full of vodka when we were at the entrance. 

"You caught me!" (Look cute. Just look cute and confused.) "I'm sorry!"

And in we went, vodka and all. I honestly believe it had more to do with the fact that Bethan and I were the only girls there in high heels and dresses than any charitable feeling from the bouncer. He made an appearance later in the night and things got somewhat weird.

"Do you remember me?"

No. Oh dear. 

Bethan whispered that he was the bouncer from the door.

"Oh, yes! Of course. Thanks so much for earlier."

"You know, most people wouldn't have done that for you."

"...Yeah...thanks." 

"Most people would have just thrown you out, but I didn't. I wouldn't do that to you."

"It was nice of you."

"I'm glad you remember me."

And, as the conversation started to go off in some strange new direction, we headed to the toilets and spent the rest of the night avoiding all large men in puffa jackets. 

The night ended rather early. Bethan somehow got elbowed in the eye and pushed over and demanded I find somewhere that would play Carly Rae Jepson. But quickly that demanded turned into "Just take me home. The best birthday gift ever would be a plate of pasty and a cheesy movie." So home we went and watched that epic favourite...Clueless. But I really can't remember the time I laughed that much. 

Amazed that I was even able to stand on Friday, I headed off to the station, missed my train, and collapsed into bed when I finally got home. I would need all my strength for Saturday's events. My lovely housemate Jess from Mismatched Knitwear was having a birthday party and was bringing in reinforcements from Essex.

What a night! First there was the age old issue about outfit choice. The party was in our kitchen and I had been told on numerous occasions it was going to be a relatively casual affair. But I couldn't resist an opportunity for a little black dress, glitter eyeshadow and enormous hair. (Seriously, the new-found love I have for my teasing comb is starting to take over my life.) I was not exactly looking casual. So as a compromise I wore my slippers. 

I was totally fine until Sophie slipped me one of Jess' home-made vodka jelly shots, which were so strong they wouldn't even set properly. And from there all I can say is that I spoke to everyone I saw, insisted on having pictures with quite a lot of people I didn't know, and told Jess' sister I loved her...several times. 

The people of Essex did not let me down. When the usual time for Exeter parties to end came and people started to head home, Jess' brother took on the role of DJ and suddenly our kitchen became a dance floor. It was amazing! I am slightly concerned about my feet though. It appears that after all these years of tottering around in platforms, my feet just can't deal with dancing in flats and I had to quickly change into stilettos to find comfort. Surely that isn't normal?

I rolled into bed after 4am, forcing Jess' brother to talk to me in the kitchen for over and hour about...who even knows? And the next day I moved briefly from my bed to watch the rugby before climbing back into my cave to sleep off the rest of my hangover. 

So, my week off was fun-filled to say the least. Unfortunately I must now go back to "the dark place". Today was my first day back in the library. I dozed off with my head in a book. I need to work on that.

Freebie Anyone?

Before I forget, I have a freebie for my readers in the UK (sorry to everyone else). In my last post I mentioned that The Week had sent me a copy of their magazine to review and I really liked it. Now they'd like to send a free copy to each of you to make up your own minds about it. They aren't paying me and this isn't just a weird scam where, instead of the magazine, I turn up at your door in a big box (but who wouldn't want that?) 

I just love freebies so when they offered freebies for all of you guys I was instantly on board. Here are the details, links, and random picture they sent me.

Claim a free copy of The Week magazine

·         The best of the British and international media

·         Clear unbiased journalism presenting you with the facts you need

·         Intelligent writing delivers you a concise and complete briefing in just one hour of your time

·         Keeping on top of the news has never been so easy or enjoyable – in print or through our dynamic digital formats

·         Our Review of reviews brings you the most interesting and entertaining insights on the latest books, plays, films, opera and exhibitions

·         What are top food critics saying about British restaurants?

·         Plus the most bizarre stories from the tabloids, a smattering of gossip and Talking Points

Follow this link to claim your free copy: http://subscription.theweek.co.uk/landing/bigshot/01/

A Day in the Life: Dissertation Dejection Mode

As the dissertation deadline looms ever-closer and people insist on saying things like "this is what you've spent your whole life working towards" (no pressure), I thought I'd try out something a little different to give you an insight into what an average day is like for me right now. It will mean carrying my laptop around with me (if I bother to leave the confines of my room/ bed), but it's worth it to accurately record all of the mundane details of a student's life when they're in dissertation dejection mode.

10:41am

Not only am I awake, but I've been out of the house already. I had an appointment with the chiropractor at 9:40am, convincing that if I had an early appointment I would have all day long to spend at the library. Unfortunately, all I have done is get back into bed. 

  My back hurts (hopefully in a 'don't worry, it's just healing' kind of way), but my neck feels great. At the end of the session I asked if he wouldn't mind, "doing that thing where you make my neck go all clicky," to which he looked at me and laughed. Apparently I'm one of the only patients he's ever has who has requested to have their neck manually contorted until it cracks. I can't see why. Personally, I love the feeling and the sound. 

On the way home I found out my 3pm lecture has been cancelled, which is going to make forcing myself up onto campus even harder than it was already going to be. I wouldn't have a problem with heading up there right now, but every day last week I spent at least 20 minutes of my time wandering from floor to floor of the library, searching for a seat. Side note - University of Exeter, I appreciate you spending £50 million on the new forum, but I would appreciate it more if you'd trade in the electronic touch screen maps no one has ever used and the overpriced coffee shop (how many does one campus need?) and just put in more places where people can, you know, do work.

When deadlines start inching closer, everything else seems to go out the window. So right now my room is full of empty bowls that once contained My Little Pony pasta shapes, I only have one pair of clean knickers left in the draw, and I didn't even have it in me to apply bronzer this morning. 

All the essentials for work. Pencil case, notebook, jar of honey, magnifying mirror...

12.35pm

Another short story and five more articles done and dusted. Now it's officially nap time.

5:42pm

Time flies when you're forcing your way through a novel about a talking monkey who is driven to crime by his despair at mankind. I can't believe how late it is already. I swear I only napped for an hour so I can't understand where the day has gone.
I made it onto campus, mostly because I knew the campus shop had Milkybar mini eggs in the Easter display and they have now become my go-to dissertation snack. I do not need the extra calories, but they are my new weakness in life and they make the endless hours of research more bearable.
  I can't say that anything particularly interesting has happened this afternoon. On my way here I passed a man talking to his dog. Not the normal "sit," "stay," "for goodness sake get out of that puddle and spit out that mouse" kind of talking. He was having an in-depth, one sided conversation. The dog didn't strike me as a particularly good listener. If anything, he was a little too self-obsessed.
  And now I have to force myself out into the cold to go and sign up for a meeting with my lecturer tomorrow. Ok. Movement. I can do this...

7:30pm

Still sat at the desk in the library. Still reading about talking monkeys. Slowly losing the will to live.
I went to the shop to get something else to eat and it seemed that everywhere I turned first years were talking about their plans for this evening. It's been so long since I've been out on a week night that I can't even remember which of Exeter's four useless clubs is the place to be on a Monday. Stop talking about your amazing, pre-dissertation lives!
  I temporarily made myself feel better by thinking that in eight weeks I'll be done with university work and they'll have another two years to go. But then I realised that graduation is just the start of a whole new series of problems. I'll be living at home with no student loan, trying to find a job, waking up early and being all responsible and those annoyingly chirpy first years will still have another year and a half of carefree student life ahead (and then that six months of dissertation dejection mode, of course).

8:01pm

Library time is over and I'm ready to head home. I just hope it isn't raining. Things are bad enough walking home in the dark through that woodland path. By day it's beautiful and tranquil, a relaxing way to stroll to campus and spot the last of the robins, fluttering from branch to branch amongst the early morning dew. By night it is a terrifying death path where there must be ghosts lurking in the bushes and demons hiding at every curve in the path.
So yeah. Wish me luck!

8:36pm

It was raining. Of course it was.

I seem to be spending the majority of my time researching the southern belle for my dissertation and all I have to show for it so far is this:

9:33pm

I just finished the Jillian Michaels 30 Day Shred and I am a very attractive shade of beetroot right now. I'm proud that after a day of work I still managed to drag myself upstairs to do squats and jumping jacks. Who have I become?
  Before that I had a quick read through The Week Magazine, which I got sent this week to review. I do honestly try to be cultured and knowledgeable, but when I have a spare 10 minutes before class in the morning and I have a choice to either scroll through my BBC news app or my Facebook app, Facebook just always wins out. And we don't have a tv so I feel well and truly cut off from the rest of the planet. Martians could invade and I'm not sure how long it would take for me to find out now that I don't watch the news while I'm eating my cereal in the morning.
  So I was excited to take a look through The Week and find out what was happening in the world. My first thought when I opened it was, "There aren't very many pictures." Yes, I'm aware that I'm a twenty two year old English Literature student who reads Dickens and Austen in my free time so I have no idea where that came from, but it was instantly followed by a sense of deep shame. Clearly I've been reading too much Cosmo.
  Anyway, I like it. I like the way it's broken down into little bite sized pieces. They give you just the right amount of information on a wide range of topics from all over the world. I've never been able to read a traditional newspaper (despite the abundance of pictures), but this was short and snappy so I didn't feel like I was trudging through it. I feel less ignorant having read it and I'm very tempted to start up a subscription. Just in case Martians invade or something. And they didn't even pay me to say that!

10:11pm

Ok brain, bring on the insomnia! I haven't been able to sleep properly for about two weeks (the joys of a heavy workload). I've tried Nytol (which taste like a gone off plant), long relaxing baths, hypnosis apps on my phone, but my brain seems to perk up considerably around the 9pm mark and, no matter how early I wake up and how many naps I deny myself, it'll still be buzzing at 2am.

11:27

Oh no, I just found out that Jillian Michaels has a cheesy American weight loss show. Now I have to watch every episode I can find.

So there you have it. This is what my typical day looks like at the moment. Mundane, messy, and full of diverse forms of procrastination, such as writing this right now. And when my dissertation finally gets handed in, I'm going to party hard! That's a total lie. I'm going to sleep for a week.