Monthly Musings: March!

Obsession of the month...

My obsession this month was a new TV programme on Netflix called Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt. It has all the components of what I would consider to be the perfect TV show. The humour is bizarre, random and totally genius, the theme tune is catchy, and you never know when one of the characters is going to randomly burst into song. It's fabulous on so many levels!

Unfortunately, I made that fatal Netflix error of watching the entire season over the course of two short days and now I'm stuck twiddling my thumbs until they upload the next one.

Accomplishment of the month...

This month my Youtube channel hit 100 subscribers! I'd call that a pretty awesome accomplishment. It's so exciting and I'm so grateful/amazed that people like my videos so much. And I've been getting so many lovely comments and messages from my subscribers too! 

If you are a subscriber then thank you! I really, really, really appreciate your support. And if you're not, what are you waiting for? Go subscribe and experience my rants and ramblings in an entirely new medium! (Plus there's a super awesome giveaway going on right now too!)

High point of the month...

I'm not even ashamed to say that one of the most memorable occurrences of the month was coming across a Milkybar Milk and Cookies chocolate bar. Just when I thought there wasn't anything more delicious in the world than Milkybar chocolate, they go and put little chunks of cookie in there! It was just...everything! 

Low point of the month...

Not being able to find said Milkybar Milk and Cookies chocolate bars anywhere since. I mean, in what kind of cruel world would I find something so perfect, just to have it snatched away from me? 

Book of the month...

I've spent the entire month trawling through Stephen King's 'The Stand' and I still have another 150 pages or so to go. Unless something truly monumental happens right at the end, I can't see it working its way into my top 10. Or top 20. It's a really great story, but it seems ridiculous that a plot that takes place over the course of a single summer needs to be over 1000 pages long. I mean, come on! Margaret Mitchell squeezed 16 years worth of plot into a novel shorter than this one!

Youtuber of the month...

Popgnome

This month I've been binge-watching videos by Kourtney and Jessica, AKA Popgnome. Their channel is a mixed bag with videos about everything from lipstick to DIY, food to dogs. You know I like my Youtbers down-to-Earth, fun, and interesting to watch and these girls tick all the boxes! 

Things ticked off The 2015 List...

I managed to tick just one more thing off the list this month (it's going painfully slowly).
32. Visit somewhere new
This month I took a trip to the Forest of Dean with my friend Beth, her boyfriend, and a whole lot of his friends. Yes, I know I'm a party-crasher, but who can blame me? After all, a weekend away is a weekend away!
We stayed in little cabins surrounded by trees and mud and (so I'm told) all kind of animals. Personally it's the closest to camping I ever want to get. And imagine my surprise when I realised that the Forest of Dean is actually nowhere near the Lake District!
Actually I'm beginning to wonder whether it's too late to add "brush up on basic Geography" to The 2015 List.

Next month I will aim to...

Make some headway with The 2015 List. I'm three months into the year and I've only managed to tick off a measly two accomplishments. Maybe I won't aim for number 6 (climb Snowdon), but there are plenty of random things on there that would actually require very little planning (or effort). 

"Stop Comparing this to Toddlers and Tiaras!": Cheer Competition

This morning I woke up aching all over and tinged orange, which can only mean one thing. We had another cheer competition this weekend. We hauled our oversized makeup bags and sparkly bows all the way back to the Birmingham NEC, this time for Legacy Dream Extreme.

I haven't changed much in 20 years apparently

As per usual, the bus became some kind of frantic beauty salon on wheels, with teasing combs, eyeliner and cans of hairspray flying left, right and centre. By some miracle we managed to get there without anyone blinding themselves with a mascara wand, but the stress of having to apply winged eyeliner whilst on a moving vehicle threatened to ruin team morale for the day.

This time we had to wear our hair in giant, back-combed ponytails. Personally I hate wearing my hair up in any way, shape or form because it exposes by ridiculous Dumbo ears, but I'm a sucker for huge hair so I ended up loving it. The only issue I had with it was that my ponytail wanted to curve around the sides of my face, which made me look disturbingly like I did when I was three years old and my mother thought I'd look cute with a bob.

The competition itself went brilliantly. Every stunt hit, there were only two minor wobbles and this time I didn't feel the overwhelming urge to run off the mat during the pyramid to be violently sick. A win all round, I would say. We weren't even phased by our music cutting out towards the end of the routine.

As my friend, Helen, pointed out after we had finished performing, "You just have to keep going."
"Oh yes!" I agreed. "I've seen enough episodes of Toddlers and Tiaras to know that no matter what happens (if your musics cuts out, if you fall over, anything) you just keep going."
"I wish you would stop comparing this competition to Toddlers and Tiaras." Said Helen.
"There are rhinestones and big hair. It's pretty much the same thing." I insisted.

And then came the awards ceremony (or, as I kept accidentally referring to it all day long, crowning). I loved the way Legacy set it up. All the teams from all the divisions were called out one by one and we all sat on the mat. It was like a sea of sparkly, oversized bows! Then, in true American fashion, (because Legacy is run by Americans) the presentation of prizes for each division was accompanied by the cheesiest of music, presumably to create suspense. Naturally, I loved it, as I do all things cheesy and over the top.

And we came fourth! Not last! Sure, some teams were hoping for first or second, but for us not coming dead last meant we had significantly improved since last time. After all, half the team is new, most of them have never cheered before and Future Cheer last month was the first time a lot of us had ever even stepped foot in a cheer competition. So fourth place was a major win for us!

But the day wasn't over. First we all had to commit to the odious task of brushing all the back-combing and hairspray out of our hair (which I can confirm was both painful and exhausting) and then we headed back to the Holiday Inn for the night. And can we pause here to clarify that a three-quarter-sized bed is not meant to fit two people, especially when it's not actually a bed, but a sofa bed?

That night some of us went out for a meal, some of us stayed in the hotel and ordered pizza, and some of us drank what I can only assume was an excessive amount of alcohol. The next morning when the party-goers climbed onto the bus I was glad I'd opted for nothing more than a few glasses of wine with my cheesy chicken. Hangovers are bad enough without adding a three and a half hour bus journey into the mix.

So our weekend went spectacularly well! Our team performed better than we ever have before, came away with a fourth place trophy, and I got to stuff my face with chocolate in the hotel room. I don't think I could have asked for anything more.

For more cheer competition craziness, you can watch my Cheer Vlog here:

Bethan's Birthday Bowling Bonanza (and other B words)

This week my friend, Bethan, turned 23. The same Bethan I travelled Europe with. The Bethan who got head-butted by a horse in Berlin, forced a drunken Irish man to take off his top and bench-press a keg in a nightclub in Prague, and is always my first choice for karaoke partner. Yes, that's the one.

To celebrate we went bowling. It's difficult to say which of us is the worst at bowling. Bushell seems to score quite highly. but that's only because we keep the rails up and he ricochets the balls off them. Hayleigh is particularly good at aiming her ball at small spaces where there are no pins to knock down. For my part, I repeatedly start off well, all strikes and spares, only to totally lose all control of my arms during the second half of the game, sending the bowling balls off in weird directions and eventually coming last out of everyone.

Actually, as far as the first game goes, I blame my failure purely on the garlic bread I was eating. I was too afraid to set it down when my turn came around in case one of my friends ate it or hid it somewhere weird so I took it along with me.  Unfortunately my brain couldn't grasp the idea that my right hand needed to release what it was holding (the bowling ball) whilst my left hand needed to keep a firm grip on what it was holding (the garlic bread) so I ended up throwing them both.

Naturally, as it was a celebratory occasion, we had some drinks. We each had one free drink as part of our package (along with chicken nuggets, burgers, fries, and all kind of glorious junk food) and, when I went to the bar to get my second I asked the barman, "What would be the difference between a Bells and a Jack Daniels?" (Look at me, being all frugal!)
The barman misunderstood, thinking I meant, what's the difference between these two different kinds of whiskeys. Really? I was wearing a Jack Daniels t-shirt and cowboy boots. This girl knows her whisky!
"No," I said. "I mean, the difference in price."

I did not add, "Anyone with taste-buds would know Bells is a scotch, while Jack Daniels is a Tennessee sour mash, most comparable to a bourbon."
As it turns out they were the same price (when does that ever happen?) so no prizes for guessing which I opted for.

When bowling was over (needless to say I lost both games) we went on an adventure. Or rather, we almost went on an adventure. We drove out to an old abandoned police station, sat in the cars discussing whether or not to go in, and eventually decided it was way too scary and drove away again.

But, creepy-horror-movie-type moment aside, it was a really fun evening. The only thing that could have possibly made it better is karaoke (although I don't know many places that combine bowling and karaoke). So happy birthday Bethan! Here's hoping you don't get too drunk this weekend.

"Just Squeeze your Butt and go up in the Air."

My post-university life has continued to idle by in a really boring way. I have no money, nothing to do, no where to go and, worst of all, Jo Frost's Family Matters has finished for the summer so I have nothing to watch while I eat my poorly prepared lunch. On the up side, I'm doing really well at Rollercoaster Tycoon.

I have, however, taken up a new hobby. Hayleigh and I started cheerleading a few weeks ago. If you can look past the fact that I have no co-ordination, upper body strength or balance then it's the perfect sport for me. You know, as in I like big bows and rhinestones. I have an abundance of enthusiasm, but a distinct lack of talent. 

I tried out cheerleading in university and I loved the whole jumping around, throwing people up in the air thing. Plus they had great jackets. But it was really cliquey and high heels were banned from socials. So that didn't work out for me. But this club is totally different. The girls are all lovely and in no way judge the standard of my forward rolls, which are wonky to say the least.

Initially it was a shock to the system to attempt handstands and cartwheels for the first time in over fifteen years. There was a lot of flailing. And falling. Then there are the stunts. Trying to muster the strength to get someone up in the air is a lot harder than it looks. And after last night's practice I'm convinced I'm going to have a foot-shaped bruise on my right boob. On top of that my left wrist hurts and I pulled my groin attempting a somewhat over-zealous jump.

But it's fun! Last night Hayleigh and I were the first pair out of the team bonding game because I couldn't remember the rules and just collapsed on top of her in a state of panic. It was a bizarre and hilarious point in our friendship. So was the awkward head-butt we did when we caught the flyer and kind of accidentally kissed each other.

Perhaps it's a good thing my life has been a little dull lately. There's no way I could deal with random late-night adventures with every muscle in my body aching.

UPDATE!

I simply must share my childlike excitement over the new cheer bows I got in the post. Lauren wanted one for her cheer try-outs yesterday (she did a lot of standing in the corner pouting so I doubt she made the team) and I got really jealous and ordered one for myself. Obviously. I mean, they are obnoxiously large and sparkly. What's not to love?

They're made by Bella Bows on Etsy and look at them! They are absolutely amazing! The detail is fabulous and the quality is great. This lady has some of the nicest designs I've seen and the lowest postage we could find (bonus!) because everyone knows the best cheer bows come from America.

I only have two questions:
1. Can I wear it casually around town because I love it so much?
2. If Lauren doesn't make the team, will it be acceptable to steal hers?

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!

My Life is no Fairytale...Yet

I'm back in Exeter, patiently waiting for my housemates to finish their exams and doing my utmost not to run into their study area with a bottle of tequila and demand someone entertains me. Instead, I've spent my afternoon looking up a half-decent questions tag for my blog (note to whoever writes these, 'what do you order at Starbucks?' is not an interesting or enlightening question). Eventually I found the fairytale tag and, as I am on board with anything Disney-related, I've spent my time typing away at this and avoiding housework. After all, I'm not Cinderella. 

"I am on board with anything Disney-related"

Snow White - Do you consider yourself beautiful?

There are some variables to consider here. For instance, am I wearing make up? Did I just wake up? Am I sober? Sometimes I can look in the mirror and think, "Oh wow! I look great!" but I'm always treading the line between Beauty and the Beast and you never know which way it's going to go.

Sleeping Beauty - How many hours do you sleep at night?

Somewhere in the region of 10-12 hours a night, which is slightly excessive.

Cinderella - Do you have a curfew?

It would be rather ludicrous for my parents to officially implement a curfew now that I'm 22 years years old, have been living alone on and off for three years and have proven myself to be an upstanding member of society (most of the time). They always know exactly when I return home anyway because I've usually forgotten my keys and have to wake them up to let me in. I'm a joy to live with all round. 

Rapunzel - Do you love being outside?

"I'm always treading the line between
Beauty and the Beast"

I'm no hiker if that's where we're going with this. I have hayfever, I'm allergic to insect bites and camping is my idea of the ultimate torture. In a world where you can get a room in the Premier Inn for £20, why would you choose to sleep outside on the floor? But I'm more than happy to be outside if it's on a beach. A warm beach. A warm beach with men who bring me cocktails. 

Red Riding Hood - Do you trust strangers easily?

Unfortunately yes. There was the time Kirsty found me making friends with a large group of Iranian men who were giving away free champagne. Then there was the time Hayleigh and I agreed to follow a group of army officers in posh suits back to an after party in the Grand Hotel. (Free gin? Why not?) And who could forget the incident in Venice when I led my friends into a wine cellar because the waiter told me he owned it? And that he had a gondola. 

The Wolf and The Seven Young Kids - Are you easy to fool?

See the above story concerning the man with the gondola who, in hindsight, had so obviously illegally broken into that wine cellar. 

The Little Mermaid - What would you sacrifice for love?

I'm a true romantic. That said, I don't think I would ever willingly give up my voice the way The Little Mermaid did. I'm sure there are many people who wish I would, but it would take a seriously amazing man to convince me to shut up for more than five minutes. However, there's plenty I would give up. I'd move away, I'd spend all my money, I'd set aside my plans...I wouldn't give up my shoes, though. That's not negotiable. 

The Frog King - What do you find disgusting?

There are many things I find disgusting, but what instantly pops to mind (probably due to some recent escapades) is the decline of chivalry. Call me sexist (I'm sure you will), but there is nothing more disgusting to me than a man who pushes past a woman in a queue, allows a door to slam in her face, or dashes for the last seat on the train and lets a girl stand. If this is progress, hand me an apron and count me out.

Jack and the Beanstalk - What plants do you have?

None. I have an excessive amount of mould growing in my bedroom in Exeter if that counts?

Puss in Boots - Do you have pets? If not, do you want them?

I have no pets. I have no desire to get pets. And I do not appreciate pet owners trying to force me to love their pets. You may see it as some kind of small child with fur, but I wouldn't take kindly to your real children slobbering over me and I don't appreciate it from the dog either.

Pinocchio - What is your biggest wish?

I've got my fingers crossed for a miracle. My nephew has Duchenne Muscular Dystrophy, which is a progressive muscle-wasting disease. My biggest wish is for a cure. 
Yeah, I know, way to darken the mood.

Peter Pan - What is your mental age?

My mother calls me childish. I prefer to think of it as a youthful inner glow. After spending some time at home I realised just how much I have in common with my niece. We love the same films, I envy her amazing pink dresses, we discuss Barbie at length. So, from that, I would put my mental age at four. No. Four and a half.

"We discuss Barbie at length..."

The Star Money - What is your most valuable possession?

I have some fancy mod-cons, I have my cute little car, and, when my Nanna was alive, she used to buy me expensive earrings (which I am too terrified to wear). But I'm very sentimental. My most treasured possession would be something left behind by my grandparents, photos of me when I was tiny and adorable, or the weird gifts my niece and nephew get me.

The Princess and the Pea - Are you sensitive?

Yes. I especially react badly to being shouted at. My neighbour shouted at me a couple of weeks ago and I cried for four hours. That probably had more to do with the fact that my dissertation was due in a few days later and I hadn't slept in nights, but, either way, I am still slightly terrified of him.

Bluebeard - What is your weak point?
Chocolate cake. That counts, right?

So there are some random insights into my life based on beloved children's stories...and some stories that I've never heard of in my life. Now all I can think about is chocolate cake so I'm probably going to have to buy some. Seriously, I'll never be fairest of them all if I'm popping out of my jeans.

You Should All Totally Nominate Me!

If my humiliation has ever brought a smile to your face, if reading my posts has ever been a part of your procrastination, or if my ridiculous advice has ever aided you in life, then I now call on you to return to favour!

Nominations are open for the Cosmopolitan Blog Awards and I really need as many nominations as I can get so I have a chance of making it to the short list. You know you want to see me don a pair of killer heels and make a fool of myself at a major press covered event. My blog is under 12 months old so you can nominate me for best newcomer.

Here. Just follow this link...

Best Newcomer!

And then just enter my URL (www.twentyoddball.blogspot.co.uk), tell Cosmo you love me, and click enter. Less than two minutes.

I'm openly begging for nominations here! And probably will continue to do so until the deadline is up.

Can you honestly say no to this face?

Nil Pois and an Excessive Amount of Wandering

My favourite way to spend Eurovision night is sat in front of the tv with my dad, arguing over whether or not half the countries even exist and resorting to pulling out the atlas, which never settles anything because it's so old it still has the USSR in it. I will expose my worrying lack of geographical awareness ("Wait, I thought Belgium was the capital of Holland...") and we will give a running commentary on everything...including the running commentary.

This year was different. My friend, Shaun, was hosting a fundraiser so I spent this Eurovision night in the local golf club, taking part in a drinking game that rendered me useless before half the performances had happened. Drink every time someone winks at the camera, there's someone on stage doing something pointless in the background, Russia gives points to the Ukraine...it was intense.

So I wasn't surprised when I ended up in a taxi on the way to Swansea at half past midnight. I was in no way shocked when I found myself having an in-depth and weirdly emotional conversation in the women's toilets about a girl's choice of lipstick colour. I wasn't even flummoxed when I looked up from my Jack Daniel's to find all my friends had been kicked out of Bambu. But I still can't grasp how I came to end up in the smoking area of Monkey, consoling a random man about his recent breakup. But here are the facts as I know them.

I had, in front of me, a free drink. (Note to my mother, yes I watched the bar tender pour it and no I did not take my eyes off it for a second.) To my left was a good-looking man who, from the outset, appeared to be somewhat of a compulsive liar.
"I work here." He said. It was entirely plausible.
"Oh, at the bar?"
"No, I'm a bouncer."
I tried to remember which shoes I was wearing so I could do a quick calculation of how tall he was. Not very.
"Oh, you don't look big and bald and scary enough to be a bouncer."
He laughed it off. Later I found out he was a promotions worker.

Nonetheless, we had a good time. Then I realised that the club was closing and everyone else was missing. There was, at the back of my mind, a vague memory of a search party going after Jonny and Hayleigh walking past me, telling me they'd been told to leave. Even now, I have no idea what any of that meant, but I knew then that they'd gone to Monkey. Whatever that was.

"You have to take me to Monkey." I told Mr Bouncer.
His friends did not look impressed. One of them had just broken up with his girlfriend and looked like he'd rather chew his own arm off than go to another club. 
"I have no idea where it is and I can't go wandering around Swansea on my own."

So we headed off. Me, Mr Bouncer, Mr Heartbroken and...some other guy. It wasn't until we got to Monkey that he earned himself the nickname Mr Forgot-my-ID. And so, following a barrage of complex conversations and assurances, I ended up in the smoking area with Mr Heartbroken, leaving angry and probably very confusing messages on each of my friends' answering machines. From here things went from unusual to plain weird.

There I was, giving my best drunk love advice to a stranger who clearly wanted to be anywhere else, waiting for some sign of any of my friends or even Mr Bouncer, when a random man sat down on the other side of me. He explained, in great detail, that it was his birthday and he was all alone and in need of a friend. As much as my sensitive heart felt sorry for him, he gave off a bit of a crazy vibe. I looked to Mr Heartbroken to do something, but he seemed too relieved by the fact that I was no longer lecturing him on the downfall of chivalry to shoo away this new guy.

Luckily, all at once, a very odd phone call from Hayleigh confirmed they had somehow made their way down to a gay club I'd never heard of, and Mr Bouncer arrived.
"You have to take me to the gay club." I told him.
"What?"
"My friends are there and I have no idea where it is."
Suddenly the birthday boy piped up and offered to take me.
"No offence," Said Mr Bouncer. "But I don't know who you are and I don't feel comfortable sending her off alone with you." I didn't point out the fact that I'd only met him two hours before.

I very rarely get hit on and, when I do, it throws me a little bit. So try to imagine how awkward it was, heading off to a gay club with a man on either side of me, vying for my attention.
"I just bought a new car."
"I have a convertible."
"I take three holidays a year."
"I'm going to China this summer."
Oh goodness, I just want Hayleigh!

Right in the midst of what was becoming an intense struggle for alpha male status, I spotted my friends on the other side of the street. I'm not entirely sure they'd even noticed I'd been missing for the past few hours. They all seemed very merry.

So I thanked my escorts, who were still quibbling about who could out-do the other, apologised for the drama I'd caused and jumped in a taxi with Hayleigh. The moral of this story is...don't get lost. And if you do, don't try to give love advice to strangers. Always carry a rape alarm. And don't believe a man when he tells you he's a bouncer. If your friends go missing, check the gay bar first and always, always wear a good shade of lipstick.

I guess next year I'll just stay at home with my dad and the old atlas.