Monday, 28 February 2011

FYI Men; Read and LEARN.

Do you know what absolutely pisses me off about the male species, and I quote 'species' because 99.9% of the time they're unhuman, like a rare, animalistic breed that somehow tend to look human, but fail to act anything near to.

Why do men think that it's their god given right to be so inexcusably crude about females on a whole. Like because they have a penis, it's a gift that runs in their blood and pathetic DNA that allows them the divine priviledge to degrade women in such a tasteless, vile way.

'Nice rack!' '
Crackin' arse, darlin'!'

'Oi, love! Get ya tits out!'

I can't explain the extent to which my blood boils how those men think that its perfectly acce
ptable to view women as some kind of meat that they can pick apart with their beady eyes.

Yes, we have a bust. And yes, some of us were gifted with satisfactory, pert bums. And if we want to show off what we were born with, then we have every right to do so without you the male species using this as a time to take complete adva
ntage, regarding us as some kind of feast put in front of them to enjoy.

So we have two breasts. We have bums. We also hav
e two legs, two arms, and a face - just like you men. So, instead of judging us on what flesh you can wrap your perverted little eyes around, how about you open your mouths and say 'Hello.'



It's hardly rocket scie
nce, now.








Sunday, 27 February 2011

The Perfect Guy.

I am one of those hopeless romantic girls. I fit into that category with a big fat green tick. Forget God, rom-coms are my bibles, and the perfect guy . . . he exists. Somewhere, in this world. In a place where i've not yet discovered.

Sleepless in Seatle, You've Got Mail, The Proposal, Serendipity . . . faith, fate, hope, romance, love . . . they're something I so deeply believe are real emotions. And the people that tell you real men aren't like the types that grace us in all of our favourite movies, then they're the people who gave up looking for him, and settle
d for something less. And they're negativity is most likely regret, because we still have our hope in tact.

I've dated the cheater, and he broke apart my trust, and heart.
I then dated the player, and instead of butterflies, he gave me jealously, and insecurity.
And then I dated the illusionist. The one guy who feeds y
ou these lies. Empty words that tell you you're perfect, that he's nothing like previous boyfriends, and he's never going to hurt you. And then he does, and you realise it was a facade. It was fake. A lie.

And i've been single for ten months. It's not that i've been so put off by my exes than i've turned to celibacy. I don't aspire to living the life of a nun. B
ut neither do I aspire to have a life full up of bed notches, where instead of finding Mr. Right, I sleep with a dozen Mr. Wrongs. And what for? For him to forget my name after our one night, and move onto the next girl, leaving me feeling used?

No. I'm single through choice. Don't get me wrong; Guys ha
ve asked to date me on dates. They've expressed interest. And they're decent, and they could make me happy. But there were no butterflies, or that instant attraction where you make eye contact for the first time, and your heart is racing so hard you can't breathe.

And that leaves me wondering, what's the point? If there's not that first connection, a moment where you two are connected into a world which only you two are in, and everyone else fades away, it's just you, and him . . . why b
other?


But I also have a fear, deep inside, that he might never show up. That fate won't introduce us. And, like every one of those bitter, disapointed woman that swear the perfect man is just an illusion, I'll end up single until my thirties, where the pressure to have a giant rock on my finger, and a bun in the oven with take over and I'll become a complete and utter desperado and then I won't just be one of those women, I'll run the club.






Friday, 25 February 2011

Music Makes the World go Round.

Top 5 Songs atm;

1- If I Die Young; A Band Perry
2- Adele; Someone Like You
3- Who You Are; Jessie J
4- Loving You; Andrew Allen
5- L.I.F.E.G.O.E.S.O.N; Noah and the Whale


Thursday, 24 February 2011

So Many Dreams. So Little Time;

One Day.


It's a phrase we all use, or have used at some point in our life.
One day i'll stick to my diet and have a figure like a Vogue model. One day i'll visit New York and seriously abuse my credit card limit
with excessively expensive clothing.

One day . . . Well, one day what?

At nineteen, my ambition, my goal, was to secure an agent at Curtis Brown and to have published a book by the time I was twenty one. And here I am, twenty one in almost six months, and I have no agent yet, and a book that doesn't even have a first draft complete.

I have so many dreams, and aspirations, and to me, they all mean something. I will write that bestseller, and I will have an agent who truly believes in my ability to be as successful as all though writers i've admired over the years. I will own my own cafe in London, and it will be thriving with new-age authors looking for a secure, quiet place to pen their first novels. I will visit all of the countrys that I dream about visiting, but have only come as close as googling.

And I can't help but think, what if? What if life passes me by, and I keep pro-longing all of these dreams and ambitions, and before you know it, one day has already come and gone, and i've done nothing. Made no impact on the literacy world. Or my bank balance.

The speed at which life is passing by scares me. It's already 2011, and two months have gone. Soon, before we know it, it'll be 2012, and we'll all be sat saying the exact same thing we say every New Year. Where did that last year go?

I want to change my life. To really make something of myself. I graduate from University this October. I want to prove to all those that have faith in me that i'm talented. That my scripts will be turned into award-winning films, and people will be queing round the bend just to be at my book signings.

I have incredibly high expectations from life, and I know that it doesn't owe us anything. In the words of Hayley James Scott, we probably owe something to the world. But I want a lot, I admit that. I want a wardrobe full of LouBoutin shoes. Maybe the odd Jimmy Choo or Blahnik. I want to wake up every day and get some kind of fan mail. And I want to feel like I have a purpose in life. That I made the best of myself, and that I fullfilled, or at least tried to make my dreams a reality.

So tomorrow morning, before I can say one day another time, i'm going to send out my submission to Curtis Brown, and hope, pray, and cross my fingers that someone in Curtis Brown sees my potential, and has faith.














Romance is Dead.

I think that i've well and truly lost faith in the entire male species. They're all the same; they play mind games.
It's not just enough for them to know that a girl likes them. They have to proceed to lead them on, dangling them on a rope as if they're some kind of fish, toying between the idea of keeping them, or throwing them back into the murky depths of water.
And an FYI to all men out there; it's getting boring.

Where is romance?
Shakespere, Lord Byron, Romeo . . . where are the men like this? Men that express their infatuation, their lust, their love for women though their art, their work, their words. To make a woman feel wanted, and adored.


All I want it to meet someone that deserves all of my kindness, and passion.
Someone that won't use my traits to manipulate and take advantage.
It's probably too much to ask that he remains faithful, after all this is the twenty first century and the nearest to faithful we get is a relationship status update on facebook.

I want that big romance. I want the butterflies, and the huge smiles, and all of the other tidal wave of feelings.
I want him to occupy my mind all day long, making me giddy with excitement, and shy with nerves.
I want to spend hours kissing him, then look in the mirror and find our mouths are swollen.
I want to lay beside him and listen to him breathe as he plays with my hair.
I want to trust him without any ounce of doubt, knowing that even if the prettiest girl he'd ever see
n just spoke to him, he wouldn't care, because he already has me. And that's enough.


It's a shame he doesn't exist.







Wednesday, 23 February 2011

Dirty Minds DO NOT Think Alike.


One thing that annoys me about girls, is the way they talk publically like absolute whores just to catch the attention of the opposite sex. It conforms to every sexist theory that women are only good for cooking, cleaning, and sex.

Years ago, women put their reputation, their pride, and their beliefs on a line to fight for us to be equal to men. To get equal wages. To work in the same wor
k places as them. To mean something. They didn't go through all of that for women to dress without pride, displaying every inch of flesh possible without being arrested for indecent exposure. To see them talking like some kind of unpaid sex operator to anyone that shows them the slightest attention. For them to shed any ounce of shame, and to degrade themself in an attempt to be noticed, just to feel good about themselves.

So to those girls . . .
Use your intelligence, your intellect, your passions for life to speak for you. If you have the most amazing set of legs and want to show them off, do so. But cove
r up everything else. Less is more, and you can bare all, and for one night he might want you. But after that, he's had you. There's no expectation, there's nothing left to imagine, to lust . . . he tried before he even though of buying.

Being able to hold down a conversation is far more attractive than being an exhibitionist. I'm not saying you should adapt to life of a nun, or become a prude. Send him filthy texts, flirt your arse off, but make him want you. Seduce him with your personality. With how interesting you are. With your views, and beliefs. If you don't agree with him, say so.

Don't let your body do the speaking for you.




Tuesday, 22 February 2011

Pancake Day..

I don't know about anyone else, but I can take or leave Valentines Day. It's just a commercialized supposed 'holiday' where people feel like they have to be on the brink of bankruptcy just to show their partner how much they love them.
And then there's Easter. Now I'm not religious, and I never did understand how a chocolate egg came to represent how the oracle, Jesus, rose from the dead after being nailed to a cross for three days solid. But I usually view Easter as a time for us to binge on the 3 for £5 ASDA easter egg offer, constantly stuffing chocolate down our throats until the point of bodily comubustion. And then what? We spend days afterward feeling guilt, affraid to jump on the scales to see the damage we've brought upon our bodies.
But a day that I am only too willing to celebrate is Pancake Day. Now, I've never once in my twenty years of living, stuck to my lent vow,but I am only too willing to oblidge to the indulgance part of the fat, butter and eggs consumption which make up one of the most delicious foods; My mums pancakes.
Every year I practically starve my body of food until the time when my mum gets home from work, the cooker goes on and out come the bowls as she proceeds to whip up the batter mix.
And then my brother, Matt, and I face one another like some kind of sibling duel, as we battle to eat the most pancakes. He, blessed with a high matoblism that allows him to shovel food down his throat like we hide him under a cuboard all year long and starve him, and still resemble a rake, usually wins. But this year, pancake is a whole month late. Which means, i'm craving pancakes. Which means, come Pancake Day, Matthew O'Brien, it's war.



Monday, 21 February 2011

You're Amazing;Just the way you are;


I want you to know that I think about you every day.
Sometimes I replay conversations we've had.
Sometimes I let myself think about the possabilities of this summer. Of seeing your face, hearing your voice, showing you the things that inspire me, that make me smile, that I live for. Showing you the books that changed my life, showing you the films that I cried at because they moved me the most, showing you the playlists that help get me through life.

You're always encouraging my writing, both intentiona
lly, and unintentionally.
You tell me that i'm mature, that my words matter. You make me feel like I can be who I want to be. And that's a successful writer, whose going to get an agent, and is going to find her way. And who is going to have not one, but a billion pairs of LouBoutin shoes.


It's beyond insane to think that I barely know you, yet yo
u occupy my mind, my inbox, my facebook..
I feel as though i've known you for longer than I have, but I har
dly know you at all really
But then I think of how exciting that is, and I cannot begin to explain how I feel at the prospect of getting to know you. Of hearing the way you laugh, of seeing that smile up close, of hearing your voice just speaking.

I feel as though you're always listening to me speak, usually about myself, my mundane student life, my dreams and aspirations. So here's something for you to read that for once isn't about me, it's about you.

I can't wait to see you. I envy the attitude you have with life. You take every second of every twenty hour hour day as it comes, with the most relaxed attitude i've ever known. I hope it's the same attitude that i'll get myself, with time. You're strong, in personality and identity. And God, are you beyond hot. Your smile makes me smile. And you're perfect.

I don't know why you first spoke to me, or even why you still do, but i'm glad.

So i'll just leave this message with this picture. I saw it, and it reminded me of you..



- Lo x

Just One.

"At this moment there are 6,470,818,671 people in the world. Some are running scared. Some are coming home. Some tell lies to make it through the day. Others are just now facing the truth. Some are evil men, at war with good. And some are good, struggling with evil. Six billion people in the world, six billion souls. And sometimes... all you need is one."

- [Peyton, One Tree Hill]


Dear, You.

I have this anger inside of me, and it's all because of you.
I don't think you get that you break me.
It's like you're two different people. The person I want you to be, an
d the person you really are.
And i'm scared that the person I want you to be is only in my head.
And that who you really are is the person I hate.
And i'm angry at you because of that. Because you should be him.
You should be the one to wipe away my tears, and just hug me.
You should be the one to tell me you love me, and really mean it.
You should be proud of me all of the time, knowing i'm talented.
Knowing with faith that i'm going to make it, and i'm going to b
e known.
You shouldn't want to talk to other women, because they're not her.
And most of all i'm angry because you make me feel like we're not good enough.


And i'm angry becaus
e I know this will never change.
And you'll never know this, because
i'll never tell you.
Because i'm scared that you'll just pack your bag and leave.
And you wouldn't think twice before walking away.







Live without Pretending;Love without depending;Listen without defending;Speak without offending.


The epitome of perfection.









Dear Nicholas;

If I ever had the priviledge to meet you, then I would take that oppurtunity to tell you how much you've inspired my life. Your words, your scripts, and most importantly, your films. They've touched me in a way I can't quite put into words, but know that they've inspired a huge part of my own writing.

You get the balance between love, pain, passion, so perfect. The Last Song inspired my own film script, Spirit, and I hope that one day, somehow, I get to share that script with you.

I hope to take my writing and my talent, and turn it into a career similar to yours. You're an inspiration, and a role model, and if I have anywhere near to the same sucess that you have, t
hen I'll know i've made it.

I hope that one day i'll fit into the same world that you're in now.
One where my work is considered important enough for film adaptations.
A world where I have a string of sucession to earn me that place there.

But until then, i'll continue to buy your books, and read every word, as I push myself harder to succeed.


Sunday, 20 February 2011

Omg;


The best friend came home from University this weekend, which meant we hooked up with our other school friend and went for chinese. After leaving the house at nine, we were still waiting for a table at ten, and it wasn't until ten thirty that we were tucking into the absolutely delicious Twin chinese in Dartford. (Seriously, BEST chinese ever!) Which meant until midnight, we were tucking into the fatteningly unhealthy dishes of sweet and sour chicken, crispy chilli beef, duck pancake rolls, and to acompany it, ice cream. Which also means, my jeans were a little tighter than they were Saturday morning after jumping on the scales to see i'd lost a whole seven pounds.

As of tomorrow, my strict healthy eating shall commence, and i'm stepping exercising up to the max, in a bid to whip my body into satisfactory beach bod in time for summer.

Hotpants;Cute dresses;Flip-Flops;Bright nails;Cute accessories.
Summer 2011.








Eat.Pray.Love

I watched Eat Pray Love for the first time today, and wow.
Every now and then, you watch a film and it just touches something, somewhere inside of you. And it's as if the film specifically reaches out, and speaks to you. And you follow the journey it takes on the screen sepperating you both, and it's as though you're there. Going along the exact same path. The exact same emotions. And its like a switch somewhere deep inside of you flicked on, and you're intrigued. It moved you. And that there is how you differentiate a good film from an excellent film.




"Listen, balance, my darling, is not letting anybody love you less than you love yourself."
[Felipe - Eat Pray Love]










Elounda.

For years my Nan has gone to Greece for holidays.
At least twice a year, she ventures back to the clear water, the cute blue and white buildings, with the cobbled streets. To the same Greek people she's befriended over the years.
And this year, i'm going with h
er.

In May, I will be cramming my suitcase packed full of cute shorts
and havianas, and be jetting off to Greece for a week.
And i'm so excisted.

Not because it's my graduation present, a celebration of seventeen years of long, painful education. Not because it's the start of my first steps into the real world. But becase i'll be spending a lovely week with my nan, and meeting all of the people i've listened to her speak about for years.

I'm going to use my week to visit all the haunts she's talked about, to wake up and go to cafes for coffee, and then go sit by the sea and sip my toes in the clear water, and to meet all those people, as well as spending quality time with my nan.

Then i'm going to come home and turn it into a book, which i'm going to dedicate to her.





I can't wait. :)


Musical Savior.

"Sometimes things find you when you need them to find you, I believe that. And for me its usually song lyrics."
- [Peyton Sawyer]

I stand by this One Tree Hill quote. Sometimes, nothing in the world can describe how you
feel better than a song lyric. Some music just impacts on you, and you connect with it.


The song i've overplayed at the moment is
Champion - Chipmunk ft. Chris Brown
.





Superficial Love.

I've never been the needy girl. I've never let myself be defined by a man.
I don't respect the type of girl that needs to be with someone.
The girls that cling onto relationships, whether they're working, or failing. Our of fear that she might be left alone. And then, when she is, she's already looking for the next victim.

Our ancestory history fought for us to be independant. To ha
ve a voice that matters.
Yet woman throw that all away, still desperate to let men define us.
And it's weakness. Because you're never stronge
r than when you're alone.


So, he can hurt you. He can break your heart and make you feel worthless.
No other man that you run to is going to fix that until you realise, it's the same heart.
It may be painful, but it's still beating the same way it was before he hurt you.

Be by yourself. Mend yourself. Smile again.
And then if someone comes along, you'll know it's for the right reasons.
Not just because you're running from fear, and pain, and running to comfort.
But because you've realised you deserve better than the guy who gave up on you.



Saturday, 19 February 2011

True Beauty Isn't Perfection.


True beauty isn't perfection.
True Beauty is imperfections.
A slightly chipped tooth.
Tattoo covered skin.
A crooked smile.
Freckles.
Scars.
<3





Six inch fetish.

Vans;Converses;Dr Martins;Ugg Boots;Hunter Wellies;Topshop ;Irregular Choice;Jeffrey Campbell;Kurt Geiger;Office;Kickers;Nike Dunks;Brogues;Pumps;Havianna flip-flops;Christian LouBoutins;Jimmy Choos;Milano Blahniks;ASOS.

I [
heart] Shoes.



I found God, smoking his last cigarette.

Sometimes, I wish I had a faith.
A belief in God; A belief that he even exists.
And know that when i'm down, angry, or just pissed off, that I could vent, and know that 'he' was listening to every word . . .

But the truth is that I don't believe in God.
I think that religion is sexist, and just a way of getting people to conform, and be controlled.
I don't think just one person could make the world.
That's like saying one person has power over us all.

And sometimes, I can't help but feel that if God did exist, he could just as well be a she.

But sometimes, it'd just be nice to believe.



Wishbank.

My dad tells me that one day i'll join the real world. A world where money doesn't grow on trees, where you have to hold down a full time job to get what you want from life, and the fact that however hard I try to covince them otherwise, my parents won't buy me a pair of LouBoutins.



Before I Die.

Before I die. That sounds so final, as though we're all living life by an hour glass, which ironically, I guess we are.
But when you think about how big the world is, how many oppurtunities are
out there, how many people you've not met yet, but could be the ones to change your life . . . life seems precious.

And it made me think of all the things I want to do before I die. All of the flippant comments you make, such as, 'I want to live in LA.' Or, 'I want to visit Japan.' Or, 'I really want to learn dutch.'

Do you really mean everything you say you w
ant to do?
What if you had to make a list,
and write everything on it.
What would matter the
n?


My list would be;

1; Get an agent
2; Get a book deal
3; Buy my mum a Marc Jaco
bs bag
4; Write a string of
bestselling books


5; To own a pair of LouBoutin shoes
6; To live in
New York
7; To have fans (Which aren't blood related)
8; To travel the world; Thailand, Hawaii, California, New Zealand,
Australia, Canada, Singapore,



9; To learn to drive
10; To not crash, and die
11; To drive a VW Campervan


12; Learn to surf in Cali
13; To have my own flat
14; To get tattooed


15; To have veneers
16; And collagen
17; Then a nose job.
18; To buy my first Cafe


19; To see Ingrid Michaelson live
20; To have a career in script writing
21; To see my first script being made into a film
22; To fall in love



23; To be engaged (Hopefully with the £6,000 Tiffany ring i've dreamt about for years)
24; To have a beach wedding in the Seychelles
25; To have 3 kids


Vagina Crushes.

I have three girl crushes;

Number 1; Ingrid Michaelson


Top 5 Ingrid Michaelson Songs;

1
; Maybe.
2
; Be OK
3
; You and I
4
; Everybody
5
; G
iving Up




Number 2; Sophia Bush


"
Here's my philosophy on dating. It's important to have somebody that can make you laugh, somebody you can trust, somebody that, y'know, turns you on... And it's really, really important that these three people don't know each other." - Brooke Davis.





Number 3;
Gillian Zinser

She makes the name Ivy hot in 90210.

Friday, 18 February 2011

jdhjfkdsdfb.

I hate it that you always make me feel like i'm waiting for something to happen.

Because it never does.
And it never will.
Its just you.






Solitude.



Do you ever wish that you could just sit in the middle of a field, the sun radiating you with warmth, whilst you just lay there, listening to your iPod?


Nothing else, just you, music and
complete freedom.


My top 10 songs atm;

1- Everything you do; He Is We
2- Born This Way; La
dy GaGa
3- Champion; Chipmunk ft. Chris Brown
4- Someone Like You; Ad
ele
5- All About Us; He Is We
6- Parachute; Ingrid Mic
haelson
7- Misery; Maroon 5
8- Rolling in The Deep; Adele
9- Never Leave This Bed; Maroon 5
10-
Where Are You; Jennifer Hudson.