#LifeGoals

I frequently hashtag 'life goals' on Instagram pictures of me pissed with my mates, but obviously (well, I hope it's obvious), I have slightly higher aspirations for my life than to spend it as a drunk girl in a club wearing a skirt that's too short. Although, I'll admit those nights are onehunnit still on my list of life goals (I'm sorry that I'm such a disappointment mum).

#lifegoals (disclaimer - this was taken in 2014 pre me going vegan - My lifegoals no longer include animals being murdered, this pic is just lols)

So I have hella free time on my hands now I'm au pairing, which for the first few weeks I spent doing my favourite thing in the entire world - absolutely fuck all. But as precious and wonderful as that is, it does actually get a bit boring after a while. So I decided to set myself some real #lifegoals. I got a pen and my glorious little shiny notepad (thanks Grace, seriously mate you killed it with those leaving gifts) and I wrote down a list of shit that I want to do and / or how frequently I want to do it. And just looking at it made me feel fulfilled and like a successful, functioning adult. I have things to work towards, I have things to look forward to. Every item on that list is something that when complete will make me feel happy, and / or like I've achieved something. Some are new skills, some are physical things I want, some are just doing things I enjoy more often. And they're all small and super easily achievable, but I know each item on the list will bring me hellllllla happy vibes.

I would never, ever even attempt to sell myself as a lifestyle guru, 99% of my life is just me totally winging it and I'm pretty much always just a gigantic hot mess, but I would highly reccomend making yourself a little list of #lifegoals. When I was in London I didn't feel like I ever had time to do anything like this because I was so depressed after work I just wanted to drink 3 bottles of wine and watch 10 episodes of friends in an attempt to distract myself from planning the murder of any of my colleagues. But there's always time. Stop putting your best life off like I did - my list took me 5 mins to compose (the doodles around the edge of the page took a bit longer) and the goals are all so achievable they'll require next to no time energy or money. Maybe one of your goals is to drink more wine - fucking power to you my queen, write that shit down on your list and immediately go and get yourself a bottle of red from the local shop. Maybe one of your goals will be moving to Ausralia. Might take a while to achieve but give it your best damn shot if that'll make you happy! Think of some stuff, big or tiny stuff, that might make your heart feel a bit more full of smiles because why the hell not.

Just to give you an idea of how tiny these goals can be - one of mine is literally to just drink more water every day. Do 5 minutes on my Spanish app every weekday. Draw some shit. Read at least one book a month. Make my Instagram less shit (sophiabailey93) if you want to follow me :D) One was to get up early and go to the beach to watch the sunrise. How's THAT for a life goal?! Some are bigger, but start small, then it doesn't seem remotely daunting and you still get a feeling of satisfaction when you've reached a goal you set for yourself. 

I read something recently that said 'be the kind of person you want to fall in love with'. I don't know, it sounded kind of dramatic and over the top to me at first but it kind of makes sense. When I'm on the husband hunt, I want to fall in love with someone kind and talented. And I'm trying to be kinder, and I'm trying to discover my talents. I don't want to fall in love with a lazy, angry, talentless, binge eating and drinking lunatic like I was a few months ago thank you. And you definitely attract like minded people, so this be the person you want to fall in love with theory is kind of spot on really. Plus loving yourself is SUPER important so if it helps you like yourself more than that can only be a good thing.

I'm not pretending I have my shit together. I do not. I mistook the doorbell at my host families house for a light switch last week and woke the whole family up at 4am. I'm still a hot mess. But at least I'm now a hot mess with a few goals. Maybe I'll never cross all the goals off my list, but who cares. That's no ones business but mine - and like I said just writing the list made me feel better. 

So if you feel remotely inspired or at all inclined, I invite you too to but yourself a pretty notepad and a cute pen, and write yourself down a few things to work towards, weather it's two things or two hundered, I guarantee when they're out of your brain and into that paper you'll feel a little more warm and fuzzy inside. (Also let me know what your goals are cos in nosy and only have like 7 for myself)

Happy adulting freeeendz x

Bailey Does Barcelona - Travel Blogs

Seventeen days ago I got on a plane with a one way ticket to Barcelona, with a severely twisted ankle, 2 bags of my belongings and just enough money in my pocket to get by. I quit the job that made me lose the will to live every day and moved out of the house I'd lived in with my best friend (and also a couple of total morons) for the last year. I moved away from all the people I love to come and live in a house with a family of strangers who's first language isn't the same as mine, in a country where they drive on the other side of the road and being vegan is an alien concept. It seemed like a huge deal and everyone kept telling me how brave I was and they 'wish they could do something like that'. 

I thought it was a big deal. Countless times I asked myself 'what am I doing' and suddenly the life in London I had been so complacent about didn't seem so bad at all. 'Maybe I shouldn't go' I kept thinking, 'what if something happens to one of my friends or a member of my family and I can't get home in time to say goodbye?'. I cried when I said goodbye to my mum and my sister and my friends (with the exception of my GBF who I just had an argument with instead, but it we wouldn't have been us if that didn't happen (sorry Adam love you) and my group of besties who I just got so fucking wasted with the night before I left I was too drunk to even feel emotion when I said goodbye). I worried about all the nights I would miss out on while I was gone, all the fun they'd have without me. All the memories I won't get to make with them. I wondered if we would drift apart, If our bonds wouldn't be as strong when I got back. And then I got here. I got picked up from the train station by my host Mum, with my two bags on my crutches, got into the car and arrived at my new house for the next few months. 

And it's not a big deal at all. 

I think it's probably the same for everyone who leaves their home town or home country that pretty much immediately you gain a huge amount of perspective. You build all this stuff up in your mind, the what ifs, the maybes, the reasons why maybe you shouldn't do it and why maybe it's a bad decision and it seems like this huge deal, it seems scary and daunting and then you arrive and you're like 'oh. It's not a big deal at all'. You just sort of... get on with it. 

The first thing I've gained perspective on, is how fucking dramatic I am. Even reading back what I just wrote - I'm such a bloody drama queen. I'm two hours away from home. Some of my besties in London are from Australia, they're 22-30 hours away from home. And a last minute flight would cost them thousands should there be an emergency. I met an 18 year old girl here who's from Texas. She's moved here alone at 18, and she's 16+ hours away from home. And I'm pretty sure she didn't make as much of a song and dance about it as 23 year old me who could get home by fucking train if I had to. 

I'm an au pair here, which was a shocking choice of career to those who know me as 'Two Beers Bailey'  the girl who loves to get wasted on a Tuesday night and spent Wednesday morning with my head in the toilet at work after turning up 30 minutes late. And I'm pretty chuffed with my decision, the first two weeks were a breeze, playing with the kids, sunbathing, listening to them speak Spanish and hoping just sitting and watching them will be enough to pick it up (it won't, my Spanish is absolutely fucking abysmal). Easy, I thought! 

Nope. 

Kids aren't easy. Kids are stubborn. Kids don't like trying new food. (Which hurts when you spend an hour cooking lunch and they strut in from school pinching their nose at the smell and refuse to even try it) Kids don't like to do what you ask them. Kids might not like YOU. It's not easy. And that's awesome, because easy doesn't teach you anything. I am stubborn as hell. And when my kids are stubborn I recognise that quality in myself, and being on the receiving end of stubbornness is an eye opener. I would like to publicly apologise to any of my old bosses who might be reading this (Tom) - I am so sorry I was such a stubborn bitch with such a filthy attitude (when I was hungover (so quite frequently)) I realise now you must have wanted to strangle me. I am also sorry to my mum and any other adults who I wouldn't listen to when I was a kid. God bless you for your patience. 

And as well as helping you recognise qualities in yourself, it teaches you new skills, like patience. Staying calm when you'd usually flip. You can't be mad at kids, they're kids. They don't understand things from other people's perspectives yet, that's not their fault. And being able to be one of the people who helps them learn to see things from someone else's perspective is such a magical awesome gift. And having them teach me not to be a furious bitch from hell who has a fuse the length of a candle wick is such an awesome magical gift too. 

When I was in London, working in a pub or a restaurant or my office jobs, and someone foreign would come in and just stand and stare blankly at me it used to really wind me up. Dong get me wrong - I love how multicultural London is, I wanted to stay in the EU, I thought we should have refugees and immigrants in the country, but when I was busy and someone came in to my place of work expecting something and they hadn't had the courtesy to learn how to ask for it in the language of the country they were in it would just irritate me. NOW I AM THAT FOREIGNER. Never again will I get angry at those people, languages are fucking hard. And being in a new country unable to communicate effectively with people is scary and lonely sometimes. It's taught me to be kinder and more accepting. 

And speaking of loneliness, I was terrified about how lonely I might be when I got here without the comfort of knowing my friends were 5 minutes away on the bus, if I needed an emergency meeting to moan about the latest fuckboy who wasn't replying to my texts, or I wanted a hug because I'm a needy bitch. And the first two weeks I wasn't lonely at all, I cherished my alone time. Finished the first book I've read in years (thanks Grace - absolutely spectacular leaving gift!) Got the first tan I've had in 23 years and learned how to say 'I've got a knife' in Spanish on duolingo. Heaven! 

But then the loneliness did set in very mildly as the third week is starting to approach. And that pushed me to do something about it. I reached out to a bunch of people, some other au pairs, some vegans in the city, and now I have a weekend coming up full of plans, with people from all over the world, all of different ages and walks of life. And I'm super excited to see what awesome things they'll all teach me (while I'm pissed on the streets of Barcelona at a massive street party - hell yeah). 

It's so early on in my journey and I'm already learning so much. On the surface I've just been eating, sleeping and sitting in the sun. But when I scratch the surface I can see I've done so much more than that (amazing what a bit of alone time with your thoughts can do. Although don't spend too much alone time with your thoughts if you're anything like me - it gets weird in there). I have this fear that putting my experiences out there in this manner will mean that if it all goes tits up and I have to come home it will be all the more embarrassing because I've made this experience so public. But - thanks to the book I've just read 'The Life Changing Magic Of Not Giving A Fuck' (thanks again Grace) I thought - fuck it. If one person reads this and feels remotely inspired to quit the job they hate and do something fun then it will have been worth writing. And if this country or this experience doesn't work out for me long term, so what. I'll always be able to say I tried, and I've been happier in these two and a bit weeks with less money than I've had in years, than I was for months in my old job and my old life in London.

I urge you, if you're considering making a change in your life, no matter how small or how enormous, just do it. I know you've heard this a million times from a million sources, but just do it. If you're unhappy now you have nothing to lose. And it may seem difficult, and you'll probably build up a load of reasons in your mind why you can't do it. But if an unorganised, irresponsible idiot like me can do it, I assure you you definitely can. Turn off the 'what if' bit of your brain for one second and visualise how amazing that new job, new relationship, new city or new county could be and how much better your life could potentially be. Just give it a go. For me. Plz.

Happy adulting y'all X 

Reasons I like my cat more than you.

Today was Tuesday, which is basically just a second Monday. On top of that, it marks a week since I got back from my glorious holiday and that means I was no longer in beautiful Spain, but instead was at work. It also marks a week since I last ate meat or dairy and I’m having severe cheese withdrawal symptoms. Oh, and it was sunny and at least 14 degrees but somehow managed to snow (its fucking APRIL), and all humans around me seemed to be in arse hole mode (a bit like I am I suppose).For those reasons, I reverted back to not just being a stroppy teenager, oh no, but a full blown toddler and had a tantrum and hated anyone who wasn’t my cat. Not really that different to most days in fairness... Here’s why.

 

1. My cat doesn’t have as go at me for being late to stuff

2. My cat doesn’t make me do paperwork I don’t want to do

3. If my cat had a phone, she would fucking text me back

4. She would probably text me first actually.

5. My cat has not once asked me why I’m going vegan

6. Or called me a hippie

7. Or told me I need psychiatric help for going vegan (thanks Ma)

8. My cat doesn’t judge me for drinking alone

9. My cat doesn’t judge me for being hungover

10. My cat doesn’t harass me on Tinder

11. My cat doesn’t send me unwanted dick pics

12. She only wants to get me into bed for cuddles

13. And when she says cuddles, she literally means cuddles

14. My cat doesn’t ride her bicycle at 0.5 mph in front of my bus when I’m on my way home from work

15. My cat isn’t a 13 year old chav getting mouthy on my bus on my way home from work

16. My cat still loves me with no makeup on

17. My cat still loves me when my hair is dirty

18. And when I haven’t shaved my legs for two weeks(ok, four weeks)

19. My cat doesn’t have a go at me for being messy

20. My cat doesn’t lecture me about my poor life choices

21. My cat doesn’t think giving her a cuddle is flirting

22. My cat likes my singing

23. And she’s fluffy and COOT

 

She does dribble on my face and sit on my phone when I’m trying to use it though. But I suppose nobody is perfect.

I realise this post gets me no adult points. That’s fine, I didn’t want to adult today anyway. I am wanting to adopt a slightly more positive outlook on life though, as I have a tendency to be a bit of a grump and / or jump into panic mode and worst case scenario when things go wrong. However, I will always stand by having a big old MOAN whenever I want to anyone who will listen. It’s free therapy. And once I’ve done it I will be in a better mind frame to be positive – I mean, I feel better already! I’m planning on exercising and starting yoga (really going to help my new vegan hippie reputation) to see if they help with positivity and mood in the way people claim they do. I imagine they’re just going to cause someone of my fitness level pain, and that brings me absolutely no positivity or joy. But I suppose we will see.

Vegan week 1 blog is coming for anyone that is at all interested, but I’m waiting until I get paid so my meals are slightly more exciting than rice and salt. It was all going fine till my housemates cooked roast beef on Sunday – but fear not, I stayed strong. 

Send me pictures of your cats. 

Thanks, 

Happy adulting! x

The Break Up Blog

Another fun part of adulting - Failed relationships!!! I was recently ‘involved’ with someone for the best part of five months. It didn’t end traumatically, my heart wasn’t shattered into a billion pieces and I wasn’t a hopeless mess – it was more just a bit of a shame, and it all came to a very amicable and mature end (first time for everything I suppose). 

My two (now ex) housemates, also had break ups in the time we lived together, and I thought it would be interesting to draw comparisons on how people deal with break ups differently. Bearing in mind the three break ups themselves were very different – one was the end to a 5 year relationship, the other an on / off 2-and-a-bit year relationship, and mine, the nearly-five-months-wasn’t-really-official ‘relationship’. 

Living with someone means you get the pleasure of being witness to every tear, tantrum and grimy detail of how people cope. 

Spoiler alert – there was a lot of wine involved in all three of our recovery periods!

 

The nearly-five-months-wasn’t-really-official ‘relationship’

- Don’t shave your legs for well over a month

- Drink daily

- Hold off from getting tinder because you know it is both a waste of data and also life

- Download tinder

- Get messages like this

- Go on tinder date on steak and blow job day 

- Give the guy steak and get his hopes up

- Dont give him a blow job

- Laugh at guy you didn’t give blow job to with your friends

- Get your sister pissed and make her download tinder

- Tinder swipe for your sister

- Consider other dating apps but then remember how many times you were offered money to do porn on OK cupid that time you downloaded it for 24 hours

- Go on nights out and spend too much money on drinks and forget about the £150 gas and electric bill you haven’t paid for 2 and a half months

- Panic over gas and electric bill

- Realise you have distracted yourself from break up by causing yourself anxiety about gas and electric bill

It worked for me!

The five year relationship 

- Initially cope shockingly well and baffle everyone around you

- Milk it a bit at work so you get to go home half way through the day and watch ex on the beach

- Stalk ex boyfriend intensely on every form of social media

- Consider career as private detective because you’re so fucking good at stalking ex boyfriend on social media

- Download tinder

- Go on Tinder date with minor celeb

- Document Tinder date with minor celeb on social media and make sure privacy settings are set to public, in hope ex boyfriend will see

- Dump minor celeb from Tinder

- Go on literally 1000 dates

- Make sure a decent proportion of these 1000 men are from work

- Give zero fucks when the men from work find out you've been dating all of them

- Dump all 1000 men and feel like fucking super woman 

- Snog a guy in front of someone who you know likes you, just for lols

- Get extremely drunk

- Go home extremely drunk and run a bath

- Get in bath

- Vomit all over self in bath

- Snapchat vommy bath to friends

- Fuck everything off and move to South America

Definitely worked for her

The on / off 2-and-a-bit year relationship

- Immediately get drunk

- Cry loudly

- Call ex whilst drunk and crying loudly

- Accidentally sit on housemates cat and almost break its neck

- Argue loudly with housemate

- Cry even more loudly

- Call mum whilst crying loudly

- Be fine the next day and immediately download tinder

- Tinder at every spare possible second

- Go on tinder date and fall in instant love

- Profess new found love to anyone that will listen

- Get bored after 2 days

- Go to gay bar 

- Get extremely drunk

- Fall in instant love with the first person you see

- Get bored after half an hour and find someone else

- Meet up with ex as ‘friends’

- Twice

- Get back together with ex

I suppose that worked for him too?

Break ups suck, and so does dating at times. I can’t explain how close I am to giving up all together and just getting several more cats. Will keep the blog updated with any more colourful dates I may go on, Tinder Tales part 3 coming soon! I also downloaded Bumble, was thinking when I have some stories together of doing a ‘Bumble Fumbles’ post? No? Ok, I’ll work on the title… I suppose I should be grateful really, I mean if I was in a successful functioning relationship what the fuck would I write about?! How dull!

Happy adulating peeps!

 

GOING VEGAN (well, trying to)

IIIIIIIIIII’M BACK BITCHES! 

So I’ve been thinking for a while now about going vegan, it started after a facebook friend shared some videos on animal abuse in the dairy and meat industries and they were pretty unpleasant to say the least. I will preach no more, I’m in no position to right now as I ate pretty much half a roast cow last weekend. However – food for thought (do I get pun points for that?) during the time I’ve been pondering going vegan I’ve thought to myself – would you be happy to pop your family dog into a mincer and make him into a delicious doggy casserole? I imagine the answer is probably something along the lines of ‘FUCK NO’. So why are we brought up thinking that cows are for killing but dogs aren’t? If your cat got knocked up and you were out of milk, would you just squeeze a bit of hers into your morning tea? Absolutely fucking not mate. Minging right? If we weren’t brought up drinking milk before being able to fully understand where it came from, I imagine most educated human beings at the age they are able to exercise free will would be like ‘what the fuck man, cow milk is for baby cows what the actual hell are you doing.’ It's normalised because we've never known any different, but does that make it right??

Of course the main problem with giving up meat and dairy is that it is unfortunately absolutely fucking delicious. I love steak. I love roasts. When I think of my life without cheese it basically brings tears to my eyes, I will have to get special pasta because there’s fucking eggs in the normal shit, BREAD, HOW CAN I LIVE WITHOUT BREAD? And I mean, come on - bacon. I’m trying extremely hard to block out of my mind the thought that if this all goes to plan I may never eat another McDonalds again in my life. That thought crushes my soul and makes me wonder what my reason for carrying on living would be. But I have to remember that to get that chicken nugget in my mouth hundreds of thousands of little new born baby cute yellow chickies were GROUND UP IN A FLUFFY MASACRE. Not ok.

I’ve found myself talking to non-vegan people about this and being almost apologetic about the fact I’m thinking of doing it. Almost like ‘I know this is a silly idea but…’. And people’s reactions are always pretty negative, like they think I’m going to turn into some raging lunatic hippy who wears grass skirts and marries a tree. Nah dude, I just don’t want to be a part of slaughtering animals anymore, that ok? But no pressure if you want to carry on eating them, I can’t deny they’re fucking delicious, so you do you my friend.

The other reaction I get is ‘You? Vegan? HAHA are you fucking kidding me mate’ which is because I eat so much crap that I would immediately have to cut out if I went vegan. Pizza’s, all fast food, microwave meals (oh my god it just occurred to me I will never have a hangover microwave macaroni cheese again *despairs*). And on top of the enormous amount of junk I eat – literally daily – I have the will power of a fat crack addict. Who just eats food and takes crack all day. So although my intentions are good, I can’t say there’s not a very high chance that I will decide it’s too hard and order a pizza with extra cheese and pepperoni on it in a few weeks’ time… But hey. I’ma give it a go. I will just repeat in my head over and over again every time I open the fridge ‘I love animals more than cheese, I love animals more than cheese, I love animals more than cheese’ and hope that does the trick. I imagine I will be smoking a lot more as a coping mechanism. Who needs steak when you have tobacco.

Oh and plus point – I DON’T HAVE TO GIVE UP ANY OF THE BOOZE I LIKEEEEEEE. (Obviously the very first thing I researched)

So next week I’m in Spain (haha suckers don’t be jel) but when I am back I will be blogging about my first week as a vegan, what I eat, what I’m missing or struggling with, and how many times I slip up (I love animals more than cheese, I love animals more than cheese, I love animals more than cheese).

If any team V’s are reading this, meal ideas are more than welcome. As are coping mechanisms. I imagine giving up cheese is like coming off heroin, right? Wish me luck guizeeeee! And happy adulting! x

Alcoholism, lack of sleep and stair puking

Hello friends! I'll start by saying a quick sorry for not posting all month. It's been a mixed month for adulting - I had a Tinder relapse and didn't even get close to quitting smoking, however on the plus side, I haven't let any utensils grow mould and haven't had to wear one pair of pants twice! Lets call it even.

So me and the gang have moved into the new pad and it is AMAZING. It's basically a palace. I have discovered this new house proud part to my personality that I didn't know existed, and it turns out I'm not that bad at cleaning really, I just used to live in a house that was so shitty my unconscious mind decided it would be pointless to clean it because it would still look totally wank. We also have a dishwasher. Which helps.

So today, I thought I'd write a bit about each of my new housemates for those of you who dont already know them, as I'm sure they will be popping up in future blogs.

I'll start with Simmons (Izzy).

Me and Simmons have known eachother since we looked like this.

11 years of friendship, and what an 11 years it has been. In year 7 we were in the same form class, and Simmons took me under her wing. I was the weird posh kid who had a massive fringe and actually did her homework and had no friends, and she was naughty and loud and would get referrals and detentions every day. Before I knew it I was naughty and loud and would get detentions every day. She has truly helped shape who I am today <3

We've been through an awful lot in the time we have known eachother. We've spent all night in the woods drinking strongbow.

We've spent all night on the beach drinking strongbow.

We've been to fancy dress parties and drank strongbow.

We've drunk too much strongbow.

We've worn too much fake tan and not enough clothes.

We've shared bad hairstyles, terrible outfits and chavvy poses.

We shared our prom.

We've shared 11 Christmases and 11 birthdays

And as you can see we have shared a lot of photos that we wish didn't exist.

Having lived with Izzy for two weeks I've learned shes basically an aggressive Monica from friends. She loves to cook and clean, which is obviously fab, but then she shouts at us afterwards because we didn't help.

She also likes to do nice things like buy you gifts when shes out or make a cheesecake, and then ask you if she is your favorite housemate. 'So if there was an award for the best housemate, would they call it the Izzy??'.

And you know how when you move into your first house you have all these elaborate plans to decorate and buy matching sets of crockery and a beanbag and then never actually get round to buying any of it because you spend all your money on booze? Well Izzy actually bought us matching crockery sets and a bean bag and a vinyl player and a rug and a coffee table and a mirror for the living room. I FINALLY HAVE A BEANBAG <3 <3 <3

Shes on the whole a pretty fab housemate, but she isn't the best at dealing with stress, for example, on Friday she went out with her new office (of two weeks) to let off some steam, and came home off her tits at 9pm, puked on the garden step and passed out on the sofa. Lad.

Next I'll tell you a little bit about Adam.

You know how it feels when you wait your whole life for a puppy and you finally get it? You spend your childhood watching all your friends and their puupys all happy, and you've only dreamed of it? Well I've waited my whole life for a gay best friend, and I have finally found it in Adam. He's my first puppy.

Unfortunately, he's probably the shittest gay best friend ever, because he's not really very gay. He's not at all flamboyant and he doesn't perform routines from musicals for me and I've never seen him do jazz hands. When we go out together everyone just thinks we are a couple and we just cock block each other (although I suppose it doesn't help that when we are drunk we hold hands and snog). In fact I'm pretty sure everyone on my facebook thinks we are a couple because all of the guys I was speaking to swiftly stopped talking to me when I started uploading regular pictures of Adam and I together. In fairness, we would have great babies...

I mean, check us out.

We also act like a married couple. One minute we are dancing round the kitchen cooking dinner, the next we are bickering about whether to use cottage cheese or creme fresh in the pasta sauce. 

I thought living with Adam would be a great idea, because we always had so much fun together on nights out. Little did I know living with Adam would basically be like one enormous constant night out. I don't think I've ever heard the phrase 'do you want a drink?' so often in my life. Those conversations generally go something like this - 'No Adam  I don't want a drink thank you' 'Ok here you go' he says as he hands me a MASSIVE DRINK. He is either trying too turn me into an alcoholic or he's trying to kill me off because I keep shouting at him for waking me up when he comes in from a night out. He also spikes drinks. Pretends he hasn't added anything to them when he definitely has. He even spikes alcoholic drinks. He put vodka in my glass of prosecco once and didn't tell me till I had finished it. He will learn his lesson once he has gotten me so drunk I puke all over him, and by the looks of things that will be happening very soon.

He also has a very weird habit of coming into my bedroom when he gets in pissed. He also tends to do this on a Thursday. The first time he did this, I was pretty reasonable if not a little grouchy. The second time... lets just say I didn't think it would happen again. I think he feared a little bit for his life. Technically there has not been a third time, but there has been a time when he stood outside my door talking very loudly at 1am, then slammed several doors and then decided for some reason to have a SHOWER, and then decided to clean up downstairs while shitfaced and couldn't understand why I was about to BEHEAD HIM.

Despite all of the above, he is one of the kindest, funniest people I know and if I am ever looking for a good laugh, I know Ads will always be the first person I go to.

And finally a little bit about Henry.

Henry and I knew each other in college and weren't particularly fond of each other shall we say. We never actually came to blows, we both just thought the other was a bit of a dick, basically.

Now we get on like a bloomin' house on fire. One of my favorite things to do is get home from work before the others and sit in the living room with Henry and moan about stuff.

Henry is a bit of a stoner which makes for basically the perfect housemate - he's always totally chilled, and he always has biscuits. 

hjuuuuuuyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy./,;;;;; 

Sorry my cat just walked over the keyboard.

There isn't a huge amount more I can tell you about Henry at the moment because we haven't known each other for that long, most of our conversations have basically gone; 'Alright Soph, have you got a filter' 'Yeah' 'Thanks', but my favorite memory of Hen so far is definitely on Friday night when Izzy came home and puked, Henry had to hold her hair back and he was rolling his eyes at what a state she'd gotten herself in. 

I then woke up the next morning to find Henry had also gone out later that evening, come home at 4am and done an enormous vom 5 times the size of Izzys', right next to her's on the garden step. Hilarious.

I don't know how much living in this house is going to help me improve my adulting, but what I do know is it's going to be a great hoot. On a positive note we've been cooking dinner together every night so if nothing else, my diet has improved dramatically and I'm hoping the huge increase in vitamin intake will make up for the huge decrease in liver function.

I'll try and not leave it so long until the next post, but until then Happy adulting peeps x

How Do I Tinder Part 2 - Tinder Tales

So I've been deep in the wonderful world of dating for nearly 2 years now. When I was fresh back into the game, newly released from the stresses of a failing relationship, all I wanted to do was have pretty young men with low IQs buy me drinks and have casual.... Conversations with them. Lots of them. Boys were my religion and tinder was my church. Amen 🙏🏾

These days my dating attitude is more along the lines of marry me, or fuck off. Stop wasting my time man, like I don't want to wait for 3 days for a reply to my text and have stuff popping up on my Facebook news feed about you liking selfies of 15 year olds with their titties out. BORING. It's too stressful, girls don't want to seem too keen, guys wants to be big MEN and pretend that they don't have any feelings, and neither of you want to take yourselves off the market because of the fear there might be someone with bigger knockers or a bigger wang out there waiting to bang you - you can never just bloody ask each other outright if you like each other or if it's just casual, so you date each other with no idea what's actually going on and then you start to feel something and get scared and run away. TOO MUCH STRESS, I find just keeping myself alive hard work enough, I don't need to complicate my life any more, and I'm more than happy on my own with my cat (and my 'special friends') for now, thanks. For that reason tinder is gone, but thankfully for all of you, the colourful memories of my experiences live on.

I already went into a lot of detail about my very worst tinder date, but oh boy, there are many, many more tales for me to tell.

To start - The Model / Actor

Obviously, 'Model / Actor' being the opening line of his profile was very appealing on an incredibly shallow level (but then again generally all aspects of tinder are incredibly shallow). And the professional pictures of him in suits clutching roses (probably used on unpopular dating sights ironically) were enticing. I should have been put off immediately by the weird, awkward conversations we had. In fact I should have just been put off by the 'actor' part of his profile - I learnt that lesson the hard way with my thespian ex boyfriend. But I clung on to the hope he would be this gorgeous model guy who wasn't weird, just a bit quirky, maybe weird in an endearing way. When we met, he saw me from across the road and did this awful wave like an over excited 6 year old girl who'd just seen Micky Mouse at Disney Land, even though he knew full well I had already seen him. When we were at the bar, he kept missing the glass and pouring his strawberry cider all over the table, and instead of being cool about it and casually wiping it up, he dramatically threw his head in his hands and loudly declared how utterly embarrassed he was. Seriously, every time he tried to pour the drink. I swiftly made an excuse to leave, but he insisted on walking me to the bus stop despite my protests that that was ABSOLUTELY not necessary. As we crossed the road to said bus stop, a car came quickly around the corner and he squealed like a 12 year old girl and waved his hands in the air as he dodged out of its way. I asked him jokingly if he was sure he wasn't gay, and he replied with 'No, I'm not gay, and I can think of a way to prove it to you...'. Cringing harder than I thought was possible I answered him simply with 'Please don't'.

 

The Fit Barman.

Awkward when you spend 70% of the date at the bar chatting up the fit Irish barman instead of talking to your date. Couldn't finish my drinks quickly enough! Or buy enough rounds!

 

The 5.30am

There was that one time when I got so smashed I woke up in the guys bed at 5.30am and had to ask him what had happened because I couldn't remember. May sound scary - but oh no not for me. I just thought to myself 'yeahhhhh that sounds like something I would do'. I then proceeded to walk to work in the morning in the same clothes and make up as I was in the night before, still completely smashed, only to find that was the day my line manager and area director had decided to visit the office. That was definitely a low point of my adulating.

 

The Four Beers.

The classy spoons date that ended up with me having to reject a kiss from the guy before I got on the bus because I was too busy trying not to puke all over his shoes. I had four beers over about 5 hours, I am THAT much of a lightweight. I didn't only feel sick, I was actually, physically gagging. My bus turned up and I just ran onto it without even saying goodbye to him because I was so worried I was going to puke in front of / on him.

 

The Sneaky Tug.

This was a guy I saw a good five or six times, I went to his after having dinner with some friends and was a bit shitfaced so just wanted to go to sleep. I pretended to be unconscious while he made his advances because I couldn't be bothered to... well you know. Little did he know I was not actually unconscious and I lay there while he... saw to himself. I left for work in the morning and we never spoke again. Awkwaaaaaaard.

 

The Snapchat

On that subject - I think this was my very first Tinder date - I went out with a guy after work one night in Putney, he turned out to be a pretty nice guy, handsome, intelligent, driven. We had a great night, went to the pub, then for pizza then back to the pub. We talked all night, the conversation never ran dry, and he ended up staying at mine but nothing happened. The perfect gentleman, or so I thought... I got a snapchat the next evening of him.... seeing to himself, which he had captioned 'Thinking about last night'. WHYYYYYYYYYYYYYY DO YOU DO THAT. Lads, just don't. We literally never want to see that ever. Just DON'T. Unless we ask for it, we don't want to see it. AND WE WILL NEVER ASK FOR IT.

 

Needless to say, dating is hard. For the time being I have given up, other things are taking priority in my life, like food and not smoking (oops I had five cigarettes today). Trying to be a grown up is hard enough with out having to try and figure out what another failing adult wants when you don't even know what you want yourself. Unfortunately I have no advice to offer when it comes to dating, if anyone has any advice FOR me it would be welcomed with open arms!

 

I hope you got a good LOL out of my tragic love life, or at least I made you feel a bit better about your own. It's not all doom and gloom, I have made some great pals and have some good stories for you which I will save for another time. Happy adulating my friends x

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