Monday, 23 May 2011

Above and Beyond.

Don't you just hate those kind of people in life? Yeah, you know, the ones that continuously try and bring you down. They're clever though, I'll grant them that. They're never out right in their negativity, their short comings as a person, a friend. They instead hide behind their lack of enthusiasm, and their 'Oh right' responses when you tell them your latest idea, or plan.

And do you know what? Those people that bring you down and jealous because something efficient is missing in their life. And instead of working on their own drama, and fixing their missing pieces, they take it out on someone else, offloading their negativity onto them in the hopes that they, too, will be the sam

And a quick FYI, it won't work. The fact that you want to bring someone down in the first place means they're already way high above you.

Love is Love. That's All.

I know infidelity is somewhat this taboo subject in as much as it's wrong; the end.
We're not supposed to promote, nor support it. If you break apart a marriage, a family, it's the mistress, the third party that is labelled the home wrecker and who then has to endure all this hatred from people. But has anybody ever put themselves into her shoes? Ever wondered how she feels? It's so easy to hate that person who tore somebody from their relationship, but what if what she felt was real. Any by real, I'm not defining just an attraction. I'm talking that butterflies in the stomach, can't eat or sleep, thinking about them literally every second of every day kind of love. The type where they don't know when, or how, but just know at some point they fell in love, and whether they planned to or not is beside the point, because it's done. They're head over heels in love, and he is all she wants. And he could reciprocate every single emotion, but he's already someone elses. But can you really blame her for wanting any part of him she could get? Hours locked away in a hotel, secret phone calls and texts and weekends away may be the best she gets, she all that time she's with him, so it really doesn't matter. What if, although he's married, he's never felt this magnitude of strong feelings before. What if, when he married, he somehow settled, and this girl that has come into his life is the love of his life.

Can you really blame somebody for falling in love, whether or not hes available?
I don't think you choose to fall in love, I think that somehow, love finds you.
So then it all boils down to fate, so can you blame fate?

Friday, 20 May 2011

The Cliche of a Fairytale; The Ending.

Happily ever after.

That's what we all want, right? We all want that prince charming, the one to stand out from the crowd of weeds we've dated, and to fight for us. We want that big diamond ring, and the fairytale wedding surrounded by a sea of people.

But why is the ending to important? Why is that all we focu
s on in life? The ending?

Life's too short as it is, so why do we feel this compelling need to search for the right guy so early on in our lives? Sure, it would be nice to date someone who gave back as much as they took, someone not scared of commitment, who can stay faithful
. But it's also those moments where we learn the most. We learn pain so we can identify it, and swear to ourselves we'd never let another person let us feel that. We cry because we're human, and because nothing in life is ever perfect. People let us down so that we develop trust, and before long, we differentiate those we can and cannot trust. We fall in love and learn what it's like to have a connection with another person. And then we fall in love again, and again, so that we learn no two people are the same. We stop comparing, and we start accepting.

You see, the end, that's exactly that; the end.
It's the parts before the end that we should focus on because it's those moments that truly define us.

Definition of a 'True' Friend.

Friends, they're everywhere. Everyone second of every day we have the option to make them. When we commute to work, people surround us, and all you need is that one moment to connect and then you're both laughing, exchanging facebook addresses, and voila. Another friend. When you go out for the evening, there's people everywhere. They're at the bar waiting in the same tediously long queue where the bar man is serving anything with a grade A cleavage before you. You start to moan, and then they start to moan, and before long you're laughing as you hoist up your padded bra to make sure you're served next.

My point is that friends are everywhere. Sometimes we make them in the most conventional ways, through University, and through work. Others times they're in the most unlikely ways, enemies calling a truce because life is just too short to h
ate. Or an ex of your latest ex, because you feel like the only two people in the world to understand how that other person is feeling. You know, we have 300, 400, maybe even over 1000 facebook friends and Twitter followers, but how many of them can you count on to be there for you.

You see, this thing, friendship, it's a two way relationship. It's not about waiting round, just waiting for that person to be there for you. It's about making the choice to be there for them, whether they tell you they're okay, or that they don't need you. A friend is someone that doesn't need to be told, doesn't need hints and directions to know when somebody really needs them to be there.

They should be the person there for you, knowing exactly how you're feeling even when you say nothing. They should know when something is hurting you, yet you're putting on this brave exterior to the world. They should say those words that can comfort, and assure you, and when you cry, they're the ones rocking you back and fourth as they wipe your eyes with wads of tissue.

You see, anybody can be a friend. You don't need to particularly know someone to class them as a friend. We have them in all different kinds of places. They listen when we have hot gossip, they laugh when we rein-counter a disastrous date, and they let us moan on and on about something that recently pissed us off.

But a true friend, they're different. They don't just want to know gossip, or hear you slagging off somebody else. They want to hear about your problems and not because it makes them glad to know you're not perfect, they want to hear about them because if you've got a problem, it instantly becomes their problem, too. A true friend will never stop listening to something you say, even though they've heard it a dozen times before. They won't like all of your other friends, but they'll respect you enough to be nice to them. They don't discourage you because they're jealous, they'll encourage you time and time again because they want you to succeed. And more importantly, they will give you just as much as you, not just because they feel like they have to, but because they want to be there for you, all the time.

So friends, they'll come and they'll go. You'll lose one or two along the road, maybe more. But you'll find others. They can always be replaced. But true friends, they're rare, and you want to make sure you hold onto them, because they're not so easily replaced.

Thursday, 19 May 2011

Our Elders.

Do you ever look at old people and wonder? Wonder what their past life held for them? Wonder at which moment in their lives they fell in love for the first time. Wondered what tragedies happened. Wondered, in their youth, the career paths they took. Were they in the army, being sent out into the war to witness first hand the devastation that it had on the world? Were they in the music industry when history was being made? Were they part of some elaborate, glamorous, and equally dangerous, circus? Were they taming lions and tigers, and elephants?

You see, there's this barrier between the younger, and older
generation. They moan, we moan. They don't like our music, or the fact we play it loud. They don't like our clothes, or the way we style our hair, and pierce parts of our bodies. And in turn, to us, they're just these grumpy old people who know nothing.

But they're wrong, we're wrong. They don't get that sometime
s, we play our music so loud because we just want to drown out the world around us. Our clothes, our fashion, we're just trying to make an identity for ourselves. And we pierce and tattoo our skin because we're rebelling. Not from our parents, but from life. We're making a stand that this is who we are, what we want to do. So just accept us. And we're wrong. More than anything we're so wrong, because they're not just these grumpy old people, who don't get us. Yeah, they grumble and they moan, but they've also been alive a lot longer than us, see so many more things. They were there, at the events that we learn about in school, or read in books. Those moments that changed the world forever, they were a part of our history.

So instead of there being this us against them, we should unite and learn from one another. Before it's too late. Before they're gone, and they can't tell us firs
thand what it was like being there when the war was surrounding them, or what it was like to train a elephant, or even how they shok the hand of Johnny Cash. You don't know just how great their life could have been.

Monday, 16 May 2011

The Life of a Recovering Bum.

I felt the need to blog to make my day feel productive, so here it is.
Alas, I am, as of tomorrow when I decide to finish my final University essay, am no longer being confined to Education - hurrah! I am free to get a solid 9 to 5 job - no more late nights in retail! - and get myself a life after spending seventeen years educating mysel

So, what do you do with yourself when your routine for the past three years ends?
I spend my day reading, listening to music, and spending another small fortune online, A
SOS, my haven.

At the moment I can't put down Water for Elephants. That book is phenomenal, and I understand fully why it spend a year at #1 in the New York Times bestsellers list. Truly amazing and inspiring. I may even have to go see the film if not only to perve over R.Patz without that scrotum faced Kristen Stewart beside him.

At the moment I can't stop playing Michelle Branch - I want Tears. One of her best songs, by far. Have a listen!

And the majority of my free time is spent repacking my suitcase for Greece, each time seeming to add more clothing than taking out, but I've not been abroad in what feels like forever, and while it's more of a researching holiday, it's going to be lovely spending a week with my Nan, learning about what is essentially her second home, and meeting all those people she's talked about for ten years. And I need some sunshine, and some time away from England to put a smile back on my choppers!

Tuesday, 10 May 2011

Taking A Chance.

You know how we're always going on about the perfect guy, and how we're destined to find that one person that stands out from all the rest, that's different from all the useless, spineless, pitiful excuses for men that we've dated before, who makes us feel all of these feelings we've never felt before. Well, what if we look to hard? What if sometimes, we're so consumed with finding that perfect guy, the one so to speak, that we just look past all those other guys who could potentially make us happy.

Sometimes we're so busy looking for perfection, we kind of overlook something that's been right in front of us for a while.

For a while, there's been this guy. Nothing has ever happened because I've never let it happen. I'm so consumed with finding someone perfect that I just pushed him aside. And you know what? He may not be the one that I spend the rest of my life with, or something could never happen, we might try to kiss and our noses clash and its those awkward moments you dread before mumbling that you should go..

But what if it's not? What if its something better? What if there's chemistry, and those fireworks you get in your tummy when you're happy and excited, and somethings new.

I think that its time I stopped looking so hard for perfection, and instead took a chance on someone and let them show me whether they're good enough or not.

So I'm going to meet up with him, and maybe I'll let you know how it goes.

Monday, 9 May 2011

Tour of Europe

When I think of traveling, I automatically think of all these luscious, exotic places to go. I'd sun myself on the beaches of California, and swim in a sea of turtles in Thailand, and then hold a Koala bear in Australia. But we always forget the places nearest to us in Europe.

Personally, I blame my hometown. When you grow up in a place that you grow to despise so much, when you think of traveling, you think of places to far away from England, they're halfway across the world. But I've been thinking lately, and they're the places I want to see.

I want to go to France and experience the culture and fashion. I want to stand underneath the Eiffel Tower, and this time appreciate what millions of tourists flock to see each year. I want to try frogs legs just to say I did so, and then spend the day heaving at the though of it.

I want to go to Italy ad pile on the pounds stuffing my face with delicious pizza. I want to visit the
Cinque terre villages because they look beautiful on the cliff side. I want to visit the Uffizi Gallery and appreciate the art inside. I want to see the Colosseum up close, and then I want to go along the Blue Grotto and witness the neon blue water firsthand.

I want to go to Amsterdam and visit the home of Anne Frank. I want to go to the flea markets and rummage. And then I want to go to the Red Light District and unleash my immature side as I giggle at the smutty sex shops.

I want to go to Scotland and just breath in the fresh air. I want to walk round and just take in the views and enjoy the scenery. I want to sit inside a small cottage whilst the rain pelts down from outside.

I want to go to Ireland and spend my time hauled up in small pubs, listening to live music. I want to go to Dublin Zoo and see the animals. I want to hear the cheeky accents and smile. Maybe even run into Jedward and give them a high five.

Sunday, 8 May 2011


For when you next read this . . . Hello :)

Dear, You;

Sometimes I look at you and wonder what it's like to kiss you. I wonder whether you're a slow, passionate kisser, or a more urgent one. I wonder whether you'd cup my face, or your hands would trace my skin, along my shoulder, down my back. Sometimes I wonder whether, when I'm looking at you thinking, 'You're so perfect' the way you look back at me is telling me the exact same thing.

Sometimes I wonder whether I'd met you first you'd be di
fferent around me. Like you don't feel this need to push me away when he's around, and if you'd treat me differently.

Sometimes I wish I could just tell you that whenever you brush past me, or touch my back, or tease me playfully, you give me goosebumps. And it's in those moments, there and then, that I want to turn round and just tell you, I like you, so much. When you ask me whether you look ugly today, I say yes because you never do, not even when you're hungover, and tired and look like a disheveled koala bear. I guess Freud and his reverse psychology psychobabble were spot on, so kudos to you, Sigmund.

And the most fucked up part is that you'll never know, because I'll never tell you just how much I like you. Partly because I know you'd push me away, even if you liked me. And secondly because I don't think I could handle the rejection if you did, because deep down, I think you do feel the same, and I don't want that shattered.

So, Dear You, if I were to ever tell you something, then it'd be this:

I could fall for a guy like you.

The Tragedy of My Life, sob.

"People always leave."
- [Peyton Sawyer, One Tree Hill]

Here it is, one of those tragically depressing blogs. In the words of P.Sawyer, people always leave, and I'm finding out how true those words can be. At this precise moment in my life, everything I'm used to is changing. For the last four years
, my life has fallen into this monotone routine. The days I work and the days I go to University have been the only real change, besides my various hair colour changes. Nothing major has happened, and I've just been plodding along the road, expecting things to always be the same.
The first change is work. Some of the people that mean most to me at work are leaving, and it sucks because they've been there four years, the same as me, when we were seventeen year olds starting out in the depressing world of retail. And this year, we'll all be turning twenty one. It's time to get out of retail, or be stuck in it for good. And three have already jumped through that loop hole in the caged fence holding you the
re; routine.

Sarah, possibly the person I confide in the most at work departed retail on Saturday, and today was my first shift without her. I had no one to ask, 'What colour do you think I should dye my hair? I'm so bored of looking like a c
arrot.' I had no one to appreciate the passing hotties with, or hide away in the corner and scoff a packet of starburst with. And I guess today I was jealous. Jealous that she no longer has no endure snooty customers who think they have every right to talk to you like utter shit just because it's you in that cheap nylon uniform. Even though I wish her the best of luck, I just miss her.

And then there's Charlie. For so long I felt like I loved him, was absolutely obsessed with him, until one day I realised that he would never be that guy for me, the one I trusted and felt like I could be myself around because sometimes I'm not sure he even gets me. But I love that I'm still connected to him in some way, by going to work I have to see him, and I secretly like that, deep down. But now that's gone, and its sad because in a way, I'm not sure I'll ever really see him anymore after his last shift.

And then there's Matt, the brother. For the last twenty years,
he's been a part of my every day life. We came home from school together, we'd fight over the computer back when it was 1p a minute and facebook wasn't yet invented and MSN was all the rage. And now he's still here when I get home from work. Sometimes we pass one another with the odd insult like, 'I will beat you up, you shitfuck.' But always with a smile.
And now he's going to Thailand for two months. Everything is booked, ready and waiting. He's finally doing what he's been wanting to do for so long, a
nd I am so proud of him, yet there's a part of me, that despite longing to get my hands on his bedroom, that will miss him. More than I think he realises. I'll miss him because I always assumed he'd be here, in the same home as me until we were both rich enough to leave. But it's official, he's dipping his toes into the pool of real independence, and a part of me is scared that he'll come home from Thailand and that will be it. Everything will change for good.

So, at the moment everything is changing.
University is coming to an end, and after seventeen years of c
ontinual education, I'm finally free and it's scary that I now have to do something, I have no educational ties holding me back. I'm ready for the 'real world' so to speak.
Friends are stepping out of my daily routine, and will likely be replaced by people I can't stand.

But, because I don't want to end this on an even more depre
ssing note, I'll share with you another P.Sawyer quote.

"Every song has an end, but that's no reason not to enjoy the music."

To my friends, good luck.
To my brother, be safe.
To retail, you suck even more.

Thursday, 5 May 2011

Dear, Kai;

I don't hate you anymore.
I'm not saying I like you, I just don't hate you.
For ages, I carried round this grudge, and this resentment towards you for all you put me through. You were my first boyfriend. You were supposed to be my first love, the one I would always remember, but not because he manipula
ted me, and cheated on me.
But I realised today that those feelings are gone. At some point, I let them go, and now I don't feel this burning desire to push you into the bottom of the sea.
I guess I just accepted what happened as a learning curve, and as cliched as it sounds, it made me stronger, and I know I'll never again take shit from any man.

So thank you for that.

- Lo x

Wednesday, 4 May 2011

Tragedy of a Double Standard Society

Every day we open our papers and splashed across the tabloids are supposed celebrities, worshiped because we follow their every steps via reality TV. We hear stories about how a big shot footballer has cheated on his wife with a prostitute. We hear how he slept with the nanny. We hear about how she was the mistress of some multi-millionaire.
I opened the Sun today, and I read about how those ludicrously evil child killers, Robert Thompson and Jon Venables's identities have been leaked onto the net, giving millions access to their appearances years after their sickening crime almost eleven years ago. And do you know what sickens me the most? The fact that there is someone out there, someone with the power to bring these sick, twisted boys to face the public hatred they deserve, yet still grants them with a protection order, meaning they're giving entirely new lives.
Some may argue this is wrong, some may say they were young and deserved a second chance. But then I read that Jon Venables is back in prison due to child porn offenses, and I find myself wanting to scream at the person protecting their identities, why? You gave them a second chance, whether that was right or wrong, and they abused the privilege that was undeserving in the first place, to have a new life after committing such a cold, brutal murder without any remorse to young James Bolger.
And now there's uproar because their identities have been leaked onto the net, giving millions of people access to their current photographs, eleven years after their vile faces first hit our newspapers. And gagging orders are thrown out at tabloids to prevent them from printing the supposed images that were life-long banned from ever being shared with the public. And again, I ask why? These are two boys that took, without guilt, a young boys life, a boy who was meant to have a long future ahead of him. And then they prove that they've learned nothing, and haven't even grown remorseful of their actions, yet continue to cause more prison-able offences. And I'm telling you, that those two sickening boys lost the right for protection the day they took a life.
And the whole world should see exactly what they look like, because they're a danger to our society.

Sunday, 1 May 2011

Dear, J.R.Cash

If I could make one invention, one that baffles the mind of inventors and scientists and leaves them in awe with my ability to create, then I'd build that time machine we always hear so much about. And I would use that to go back in time and to meet you when you were in your prime.
I would admire your ability to put so much raw emotion into even the simplest of lyrics.
I would travel back the 70s when I believe you were at you prime, and I'd be in those crowds you performed to, dancing wildly and cheering alon
I'd watch you perform with nothing other than love for the music you b
rought to the world.
And then I'd somehow put myself in your pathway so that I could tell you, your music saves lives, even now.

- Lo x