Lovely Days

Let me just say one thing. I am having a lovely day. A lovely, lovely, lovely, day. I feel nice today. It is Saturday and I am dossing. The X Factor will be on later and I will eat fatty foods that fill me with feel good vibes, and I WILL be in pjs. I will be in pjs with no make up on, and may even eat cake.

I will consume more green tea than thought humanly possible. I may paint my nails and toe nails, condition my hair put a face mask on, and I will make my mum as much tea as she likes. If she wants a manicure she can have one. On the house.


Because I am having a lovely day, and am in a good mood.


Emma xoxo

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Picking up the pieces

I have had a good few days, watching the olympics with the fam, glorying in our tiny country of Britain doing brilliantly, and stuffing my face with whatever food I so wish.

Yesterday was the hangover, so to speak, with all my emotions drained from hours of scraming at the telly, and my body feeble. Today is the day after the hangover and quite frankly I feel miserly and angry and slightly empty.


I miss working, having the comaraderie and companionship, I miss being aorund people all day, and frankly not having any money is devastating my life. I have GREAT things coming up, a cooking class, starting a degree, I just hope everything fits together and I can get on with my life.




Emma x0x0



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I’ve decided to write a book.

So this is it, the moment that will define my life. The climax of everything the childhood me dreamed,  breathed, and hoped for.

I am going to write a book. The basic premise is decided, the actual plot kind of decided, the tone is set in motion and the only thing left for me to do is put pen to paper, finger to keybooard and just write it.

It’s won’t be (I pray) as badly written as fifty grades of grey and no where near as smutty. It’s slightly based on my life so therefore the sex will be slightly disappointing and very irregular.

It isn’t like Harry Potter and it may be more than similar to Bridget Jones’s Diary. I will need a spell checker and the grammar will certainly makes some people grimace. My book is almost certainly never going to get published and I currently have zero expectations for publication.

The first chapter will be written within the next week. I will publish on my blog.


Emma xoxo


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Anti bucket-list

Every now and again I feel that we all have confidence crisises. We reach a certain milestone age, whether it be young, middle-aged, or old, and feel that we haven’t achieved all the things we wanted to by that point. So the dirty thirty and bucket list type lists emerge, (I’ve been doing them since I turned sixteen and felt traumatised by my aging) and we aim to get our lives back on track. Whatever that means.

Because seriously, most of us are better off than we think. So long as we are employed, have friends, a good relationship with ourselves, and a roof over our heads what more could we possibly want?

I’m here to write the anti-bucket list blog. I do NOT, for now have any long-term plans. I am starting a cooking class in October and a psychology degree in October, but both of these things or neither of these things may be my long-term career. Who cares? Most people change their minds anyway. Most people veer wildly off track and are incredibly thankful for it. Be happy with the tiny, small things like having food in your tummy, and good friends you ring to tell about your latest drunken escapade, and parents that are still alive. We all fear the future so much, and start going crazy about getting older, when the reality is that we are bloody lucky to have had a chance at life at all.

I have been at a loss over the past year. Getting into debt, being unemployed, moving back into my parents in my mid-twenties, going through a relationship heart break and losing alot of friends. I’ve just started to get things steady. A degree starting in October (if I get funded, which I am very hopeful for) a cooking class in October (cooking is heaven to me, even if some of the concotions I make do not themselves resemble heaven) a volunteer job helping children, and signing to a temping agency for work.

Slowly, and bit by bit I have started getting my life (which I am so very glad to have) back into place and resembling some stability. Every day from now on I am going to be thankful for every tiny thing in my life. Still,often I will find myself regretting I have ever been born, I am sure of it. We all do it. Don’t tell me you haven’t wondered to yourself about what would have happened if your parents hadn’t of gotten together and made you. Don’t tell me you’ve never had a suicidal day. Nobody is going to live a sugar-coated glossed over life, ad there will be days you feel like God fucking hates you.


But stormy days pass over into sunny days. We carry on, and we make the most of every moment. So I’m scrapping my bucket list, I’m ripping up my dirty thirty. If you think you can control every aspect of your life then you are delusional. How about just living it instead?

I hope you can too.


Emma xoxo

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be a little bit amazing

Good morning Bloggers


I am thinking of having one of those slow paced days. This is what I believe my day will consist of : making and decorating cakes, sprinkling them with love, then devouring them with pleasure. (Sharing may come into it, but it may not, no promises there). Blogging several times, applying for lots of jobs, walking the dog, cooking lunch, going for a bike ride, and spending some quality time with the familam.  This may not sound like the most of exciting of days but I am looking forward to it, as a bad nights sleep and dreaming of certain people/things I wish I hadn’t have left my energy depleted and my heart dejected. I don’t know what your dreams are like, but mine are so visceral they affect my whole day. I am generally a murderer or some evil person of some kind, and more often than not it will be a nightmare rather than a dream.

Talking about dreams is incrediby boring, so lets move on. Yesterday after lots of triumph at the olympics I wrote a blog I was very pleased with about the wonderful athletes of Great Britain and about how amazing they were. Unfortunately this blog wasn’t allowed to be published so it is lost somewhere, but I can hopefilly re-capture some elements.

Get Real

Most of us aren’t going to be Olympic athletes, famous, millionaires or pop stars. Most of us will only ever be known to a few people, and most of us will live and die in relative anonymity. Most of us can’t, and most of us won’t want, to train for thousands of hours and dedicate our youth to running, riding, and vaulting over apparatus. Let’s just live vicariously a little through these people and cheer them on when they win,  and grieve with them when they fail to triumph. It’s healthy to have aspirations we probably won’t ever live up to, and in my mind I am a pop star even if the reality is I am tuneless and can’t dance. 

Inspiration and Genius

Inspiration and genius is rare and when we celebrate atheletes rather than “celebs” known primarily for being bang-able and having a big arse, we all triumph. Society is doing something right and honourable even if just for a few weeks. Hurrah.


Take a little inspiration with you today


Where ever you are, whatever you are doing, whether feeling happy, or not so, remember we can all be great in little ways. We won’t get a gold medal, not even a bronze but we can inspire ourselves and others to be great.


Have a lovely day and do something a tiny bit amazing




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Taking risks pays off- but saying that I am not a big risk taker. Or am I?

When I was eighteen I split up with my first boyfriend,and was then thrown out of the family home after being attacked. I stayed with my mamma and her partner for two weeks, and it was a pretty messy time for me, and my family. Before being thrown out of my parent’s I had applied for a job in Norfolk working as an Activity Instructor. Everything in my life was messy and grey, and depressing, there was a high level of angst too, being a teenager and all.

Before I had been thrown out I wasn’t a hundred per cent sure that I wanted to go, I needed to provide a CRB and had messed around alot as a kid and had gotten a shoplifting conviction amongst other things. Now that it’s been almost ten years since I as much as spoke to a police officer I can’t quite believe the amount of trouble and naughtiness that me and my friends got up too. Anyway, back to the story. They needed us all to provide a CRB and I was worried that my convictions would scupper my chances of a job with the company. I was doubtful about leaving my mum, and my other family, and worried about just about everything at that time. As mentioned earlier I also had a bad relationship break down (my fault) wasn’t entirely sure whether I was pregnant or not (I wasn’t) and was living with my mamma and her partner who though, whilst lovely to me, didn’t really want me there. It is after all their home, and having a stroppy teenager mulling about isn’t ideal for anyone.

Anyway, owing to the fact that I had to go to Camp, after being thrown out of my home, off I went, to the train station, and set about getting to Leicester Train Station where a coach would pick us all up and take us to Norfolk. It’s weird writing this, I can almost feel myself as I were then, a slightly chubby teenager with not a clue about anything, broken hearted and dismal, family in tatters, off to start a new life. It makes my tummy feel nervous.

Anyhow, when we got to the centre, it transpired that we were on an assessment weekend and not all of us would be taken on by the company.  You can imagine how jittery that made me, knowing I had no home to go back to. We were put into rooms  (at first I was with some girls I met on the bus, a lesbian couple it later transpired, and another girl, a bit of a bossy boots, who much later became quite senior in the company, punched the guy she was going out with in the face, then left to make a home and have babies with said boyfriend. ) and then spilt into groups to face challenges. It’s been awhile but I do re-call there were lego and ropes involved, and quiet people like me didn’t really have much to do. I was convinced I was going home. So was bossy boots, who  got put in the same group as me, when the results were given to us x factor style. She repeatedly looked at me when she said it, as if convinced by my presence that she was off home. Anyway I am going into way too much detail, most of us were taken on, the ones that weren’t were the sluts who had gone round giving blow jobs, and some guys who had decided to wee out their windows.

Anyway during that week end I had slowly drifted away from the bossy cow and from the lesbian couple and had made friends with a girl called Debbie. She was a sweet girl, just turned eighteen, and had arrived at the centre on her own, as she had driven from Rotherham in Sheffield. Debbie was pretty much given a certain level of status immediately owing to the fact that she had a licence and a shiny new car. She was also pretty with long shiny hair and gave the impression she had got her shit together. Debbie and me chose the same camp in Norfolk to go to on a permanent basis and drove up together in her car. We were also going to be room mates, and we were, for a little while at least.

Anyhow I stayed at the company for nearly a year. There were some incredible highs, getting a disabled boy down the zip wire, working with some awesome people,meeting and helping some wonderful children, earning reward cards that I will keep and treasure for the rest of my life, parties that were legendary, hangovers none of us will ever forget, and memories I am truly grateful for.

There were some massive lows, home sickness, intense friendships that fizzled as soon as the people left, which was pretty much constant, being involved with a dodgy guy who broke my fragile heart, crying hysterically one day in the managers office whilst he looked on in absolute alarm, bratty children who kicked and punched you whilst their even more bratty teachers laughed. It was brilliant and truly awful at the same time, and now at nearly 24, I am incredibly grateful that I took a HUGE risk in moving to the other side of the country for a year, and even though I shake at the thought of taking another such risk (getting older, damn it) I appreciate that brave eighteen year old who took a chance, and thank her for it.


P.s  Me and Debbie are still friends. She works as a mentor at a school and is a volunteer police woman. She also has a lovely boyfriend and has just bought her own home. She puts me to shame. I’ll tell her this when I see her in two weeks, when we are off on a girly night out.

My life lesson today: As we get older it becomes harder for us to take risks. We grow up, mature, and forget that child we used to be, and mostly for the better. But sometimes I think it’s important to be that child again. I’m going to take some risks today, even tiny ones. Like walking to get a stamp when I have a a skin condition, and worry people will judge me. Fuck it.

Emma xoxo

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Somedays we are up, some days we are lost.

It has been an age since I had the chance to blog. Now thankfully I have access to a computer again and so can off load all the silly ideas my mind churns over.

It’s been a funny two weeks. On the one hand, I’ve felt sad, on the other happy. I have been treating my skin and using cream so haven’t been able to get out much, although I’ve still took the dog and rode my bike.  Today I have walked baby, prepared a lovely lunch, posted a letter, listened to a cd, and now am checking my email and blogging. I have updated my twitter and will probably watch some silly reality tv later, Real Houswives of New York being my latest addiction. ( These women are so bitchy and immature, I feel saintly in comparison)

I am over the old love interest, and am VERY much looking forward to several planned nights out with the girls, and am excited to embrace single life. I have never really gone out on proper nights out fully single, as I am always texting someone, dating, seeing someone, getting over someone, and my mind has never been in it. Let the adventures begin!  (I just need a job to fund my adventures….eeek and to pay off debts..lets hope my precious time on the computer enable me to do just that! )


Au Revoir



Em xoxo

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