New Year, New... Never Mind.

2013 is nearly over, kids. NY parties are being planned all over the world (not just in New York... geddit? Never mind) and I am once again wondering what to wear to greet January the 1st.

Social media sites are being bombarded with 'New Year, New Me' messages and great long statuses about how amazing/crap/boring/exciting/life changing/miserable 2013 has been and so here is my contribution to the masses. 

I wouldn't say that I am a different person from the person that I was this time last year. I don't even really look particularly different other than my hair colour and length. I'm still the disorganised, forgetful, scatty person who loves absolutely anything that is covered in glitter and can be labelled 'camp'.  But then again, I don't think I really wanted to be a different person.

I live in a different place and I am no longer at Axe Valley (Praise. The. Lord.) but other than that, I don't think I have really changed. 

I'm an Aunty now? Does that count? I'm jobless. That's new. I have become well acquainted with my overdraft. That's not fun.  And I've met more people than I ever thought that I would. I guess when I thought of this time this year this time last year (decipher that), I didn'tr

 think that I would be here. I knew that I'd be at uni and that I'd have a load of work to do and I'd be living in Bournemouth with people I didn't know at the time but... I don't know. I don't think I ever thought that it would ever actually happen?? After applying to uni the first time, not going and then returning to TAVCC, I guess that I felt in a bit of an endless cycle. It felt that the whole process was going to end in nothing again and to be honest, it was horrible. But it turned out that it wasn't a cycle and here I am now. 

Hip hip horray! 

I did have some really good times in '13 though. You want a list of my favourites?? Fine. Pushy... 

Emily Hayward

Okay, so not a moment as such, but a person that I got closer and closer with throughout the year and really do love. Girl be cray and I've said so many times in the past that she really isn't 'my type of person'. She's loud and opinionated and pushy and stubborn and....okay I think it may actually be that we're too alike. But it works this time, okay? She took my hand and dragged me through the last months of sixth form, provided endless teas, coffees and fry ups and she's a home away from home. Prom was made enjoyable because of her and I miss her a lot a lot a lot when I'm at uni. 

(I'm also stealing her cat. We have a contract) 

Splashdown 

The week before I went to uni, myself and the 'gals' all went to Splashdown in Poole. I have been bugging them to go to Splashdown for bloody years and they had always fobbed me off with 'yeah we will'. We even set a date and made plans once and Evie cancelled the day before. I'll never forgive her for it. But anyhoo, we got there in the end and it was a really good day. Subways followed by mahoosive sundaes at TGI's aferwards. Hellooo? Yum. 

It was a really nice send off to Evie and I. Thanks, girls. 

Carboot Sales

I hadn't been to a carboot sale in bloody yonkes because I had a job that meant I had to work every sunday at 12 and I just couldn't get there and back and still be on time. However, this year I went to one nearly every single week during the summer. I'd stay at Monica and Sophies flat after a night out and then Monicas amazing 'rents would bring us to the carboot sale the next morning. Score! I was only late for work once when I came home and then fell asleep whilst getting ready and so... yeah. Bosses weren't too happy but I got there in the end? 

Anyway. I picked up some amazing stuffs and my book collection grew ten fold. When is that not good?! Hint: Never. 

Thanks to Mary and Andrew for putting up with hungover Megan every week and for buying me coffee/tea/food every week. Stars! 

Oh and cheers for the wake up calls, Mon! 

James

My little baby boy. My nephew. I've always wanted to be an aunty and from August, I a finally am. James is just beautiful and I love him so much. I can't wait to watch him grow up and say 'I love my Aunty Megan more than I love my Aunty Becky'. Because he will. Fact. 

This could go on for a while and is in danger of becoming sickly so I'll cut this one short. 

I love you, James Willam. 

Uni 

This doesn't even really need an explanation. It's incredible to be away from everything that you know and to be dumped in a flat with 6 people you don't know. I love it. I've made some amazing friends and some even more amazing memories. Knowing that this is just the start of another 4 years and (hopefully) a career is ridiculously daunting but change is what life is all about, I guess.   

I can't wait to see what else it brings me. 

And 2014 is already look pretty exciting. I have tickets to see the amazing DWV on the 22nd in London. They're a band made up of three drag queens, two of which were on Rupauls Drag Race, a kind of 'Americas next top drag queen' type show which is camper than anything you have ever seen before. The bottom two have to lip synch for their lives each week, for gods sake. It really is too much for me to handle. But I can't wait to see them!! 

I also have tickets to see another drag show in Bournemouth. The Supreme Fabulettes. 

Whatever. I love Queens, okay? 

So I don't know what else 2014 is going to bring me, but whatever it is, I'm sure it will be fabulous. 

I hope you all have a fantastic new year and 2014 brings you absolutely everything that you want it to. 

And if not, just whack on that good ol' song, "Don't worry, Be happy" and have a cup of tea. It fixes everything. Really. Try it. 

M x

More Books. Whatever.

"You can never get a cup of tea large enough or a book long enough to suit me."

- C.S. Lewis

Oh, hello! 

So my life has pretty much completely changed since the last time I added a blog post to my archive. I'm now officially what they call a 'student'....bizzaro. I've moved in to my halls and share an amazing little flat with 6 other people (all of whom are very nice (so far)). It's always a mess. My room is set up with all the crap that I rammed, jammed and threw into boxes. It's always a mess. Our recycle bin is constantly filled with empty bottles and cans because, hey, we're students. We're always a mess. 

So far, my course is brilliant and every lecture and seminar reaffirms in my mind that I want to do PR. The lecturers are fantastic and they really know what they're talking about - something you would very much hope, but to know that they do is reassuring. The course is quite small with only 60 odd people on it and so I'm looking forward to getting to know everyone and fingers crossed remembering their names. I'm bloody useless with names! It's been a nightmare so far! 

I could sit here writing about the ins and outs of my first two weeks of freshers and that's what I thought I was going to end up doing, but you know what? Nahh. I've just been online and looking at books for one of the assignments that we have. The 'Writing for PR' unit requires a portfolio that needs to include a review of a book that has won, been shortlisted or longlisted for the Man Booked award. Obviously, this means that we're going to have to read a book. Who'd have thunked it? So I was quite looking forward to finding a book and having a read because, as we've already established, I love me a good book. But I know that my enthusiasm isn't shared by all and there are a couple of people who really aren't keen, trying to find a book that they've already read to review. There really isn't anything wrong with that, but personally, I still find it baffling that someone wouldn't want to read and I feel incredibly lucky that I do. Sure, there's the argument that if the book's that good, it'll be made into a film and then you're not missing out, but you are. So much. And what about the books that aren't made into films? There are millions and millions of books that will never be made into films and a large percentage of them should never be. When authors write a book, they make something that is special to them and most of the time, that comes across in their writing. You can feel their passion for their characters and tales and when that's made into a film, a lot of it is lost. As is the individuality that every reader has. Sure, you can CGI in a magical battle or a gigantic explosion, but it'll never be the same as when you see it in your own head. 

Having said that, I do love films and they're fantastic for bringing books to a wider audience. (Did someone say Harry Potter?) I just can't imagine not feeling a little bit excited when looking through a book shop or ordering online and waiting for them to be delivered. 

And then there is also the benefits of reading. In my first lecture we were told that if you want to be successful, you have to read. Read read read read read. Okey dokey, I can do that and I want to do that. But if you have a career goal that means that to be good at it, one of the best things you can do is pick up a book and you hate doing that then it's going to make life hard. And miserable. So I feel pretty lucky. As the God that is Dr Seuss said... 

"The more that you read, the more things you will know. The more that you learn, the more places you'll go."

In fact, the amount of times I've been told this week that you have to do something that you love? I might just look into book publicity.

Speaking of waiting for books to be delivered, I've just ordered a couple and I cannot wait for them to get here!! 

Good Omens - Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett 

Jonathan Strange and Mr Norell - Susanna Clarke 

The Book of Lost Things - John Connolly

Come on, Mr Postman. Deliver them!! 

 

M x 

Goodbye, Devon. Hello, Bournemouth.

I've not blogged a lot this Summer. Why? Well, I've been pretty bloody busy. I can't say that anything extremely eventful has happened to me, but I have been kept sufficiently occupied to seemingly abandon this little blog of mine. Well do you know what I say? No more! It's time to dust off the interweby cobwebs and bring out the cyber vacuum cleaner.

And now, for those that care, here's a post on what I've been up to in the Summer of 2013.

Work

As previously mentioned, I worked in a fish and chip shop for the summer. Lovely. That beautiful heatwave we had? Yeah, I didn't see any of it because I was working every day in an absolutely horrifically hot kitchen. It's safe to say that the boss really doesn't give a damn about his workers and point blank refused to get any form of air conditioning. Charming. I previously wrote about how I was head of house. In theory, it was a very good job. I got a pay rise, I got three days off a week and I didn't have to do half the amount of work that I was required to do as a waitress. Reality? The pay rise was by 75p, I worked at my other job 2 out of the 3 days I had off and usually ended up waitressing for my remaining day off and I ended up doing far more work than I was supposed to be doing which I really wouldn't have minded doing, except I was pretty much just doing my old job with a whole load more crap to do. Also, my discovery of the summer was tourists are jackasses. Yes, I understand that you're on holiday and are out looking for a nice evening/time. No, that does not mean that you have to be an absolute jerk to anyone that you come into contact with. People can be downright rude and by the end, I had simply had enough of it. So if you were one of the customers that were screaming in my face (especially the particularly charming woman from Essex) then I have this to say to you; badly done. 

But the good news is that I am officially finished there. I've handed in my apron (and kept my name badge) and so I now, thankfully, done with working in chip shops. I've done my time. Never again. 

University

This is where things get really exciting. I am finally packing my bags and making my way to university. It's been a long time coming and I really cannot wait now. I'm studying Public Relations at Bournemouth. My A level results turned out to be absolutely shocking and it's something that I will never forgive my school for (see previous post explaining the absolute shambles of my exam day) so well done, Axe Valley. You've managed to mess up every single year of my sixth form education without fail. And yes, I know that I have to take responsibility but the things that have happened just shouldn't have and I can't help but feel incredibly let down. But anyway. Bournemouth accepted me and I, by some miracle, managed to get into the Halls that I wanted to as well. I move on the 15th of September which is hurtling towards me far too quickly, really. I've started (yesterday) sorting out my clothes. This is most definitely the largest item on the agenda but boy oh boy do I hate washing and ironing. Weep. Sob. Expect future posts all about moving in and Freshers. EEP! 

Baby James

I am now an Auntie! The very biggest of congratulations to my brother and his fiancée, Nadine. James William Ruddy was born on the 28th of August and he's absolutely gorgeous. I've been waiting to become an auntie for so long now and it's amazing to finally have a baby in the family. I'm the youngest in my family and so there's never been a baby around for me to see growing up and coerce into being a badass. Honestly, absolutely every little-person thing I've been seeing I've been wanting to buy. The money I've slaved away for is trying to spend itself on every pair of booties, every soft toy, every hat with ears and every rattling, noisy, fluffy, adorable thing that I lay eyes on. Welcome to the World, James. I hope it's kind to you. 

M x 

Frost Hollow Hall - Emma Carroll

Quite a few weeks ago, I received a message on Twitter from my (now ex) English teacher, Emma Carroll, asking if I would be able to read and review her new book for her. Big yays! I'd heard a bit about said book from her and had fully intended to place my Amazon order at
some point but, being completely useless as I am, I never actually got round to it. So I was thrilled to get a copy before it's release date in October. After collecting it from her at the school, I started it on the bus home and absolutely devoured it. 

And so here is the promised review that has been a long time coming. 
I repeat. Useless. Tut. 

Plot

Frost Hollow Hall is a gorgeous Victorian ghost story for Young Adults. The prologue tells us about the 'terrible tragedy' that is the death of Kit Barrington, the heir to Frost Hollow Hall, who died after falling through the ice of a frozen lake. Intriguing. 

We're then very quickly thrown into the life of Tilly Higgins as she waits for her dad to come home. We don't actually meet the dad, but we find out that he's a dreamer, always sharing his dreams of grandeur with Tilly. (Although only a side plot, I particularly loved the idea of the father and the way in which Tilly speaks about him.) 

Local butcher boy, Will Potter, soon shows up and so the story really begins. Dragging her out to the frozen lake Kit Barrington fell through 10 years before, Will dares Tilly to skate on  it. Tilly is a fiesty young thing - part of the reason that I really liked her - and so refuses to turn down the dare and consequently falls through the ice ala Kit Barrington. She should have drowned. She doesn't. Perfect and beautiful Kit brings her to the surface and saves her life. Tilly then makes it her mission to find out why the ghost of Kit seems to be haunting her dreams and crying out for her help. After being offered a job at Frost Hollow Hall, Tilly settles into the life of a house maid under the watchful glare of Mrs Jessop who seems to have her fair share of secrets. The reader is really thrown in to the life of a housemaid in the Victorian age. We're introduced to the odd Lord and Lady Barrington who, the Lady in particular, can't seem to move on from the death of their son. One of my favourite parts of the book is actually when Lady Barrington decides to hold a seance led by Madame Martineau (who "everyone knows [is] just Mrs Martin from the next village") to get in contact with Kit. It's a brilliant chapter that throws out many more questions that really builds up the 'what's occurring here?!'ness. I loved it. 

And so it continues. Tilly goes on trying to solve the mystery of Kit whilst finding out that he's perhaps not the only ghost haunting Frost Hollow Hall... 

Verdict

Honestly, I absolutely loved it. It's one of those fantastic books that you don't realise you've spent 4 hours reading until it's dark outside and you need to turn a light on. The settings are so beautifully described that you feel you're there, freezing by the lake or making your way up the narrow staircases of  the hall. The Victorian era is so clearly defined without the over-explanation of details or the time that I've occasionally found with YA books. The way that the house works, the duties of the staff and the hardships of the times are subtly explained without drawing attention from the plot. 

I especially liked the relationship between Tilly and Will. There's a spark between the two stubborn characters that you definitely want to see more of and the banter that passes between them is brilliant. 

The other characters are equally as good, each bringing something else to the story. Mrs Jessop is unforgettable and adds even more intrigue to the story with her odd behaviour towards Tilly. Maid Gracie is particularly charming and easy to love with her innocence and distress at being blamed for the smashed crockery she swear she didn't break. Even Tillys' unlikable mother has redeemed herself by the end of the book.

I definitely think that young readers will adore Frost Hollow Hall for it's perfect balance of mystery and history. Younger Megan would have loved it just as much as 19-year-old-Megan did.  

I admit, I started reading Frost Hollow Hall because I know the author. But I finished  it because I thoroughly enjoyed it. Yes, it's cheesy but it's no word of a lie; I read the last page or so with a smile on my face. 

Thank you for the copy, Mrs Carroll. Good luck! You didn't grind my gears at all. 

It was fabulous. 

M x 

Summer Sun

The last few weeks have been nothing less than beautiful. The sun has well and truly put its hat on and boy what a fabulous hat it is. 

Have I seen any of it? Have I hell. The closest I have got to sun bathing has been on my way to work and there really is nothing more depressing than seeing everyone lolling around in shorts and sunnies when you're not. 

But lets not be blue. 

I've recently been given a temporary promotion at work to fill in for someone whilst they're away in the Philippines for 3 weeks and so you are now looking at the writings of the Head of House at the chip shop. Oh yeah. That's right. Feel the responsibility. It means that I now take people to their tables and do the whole 'is everything okay with your meal?' thing and then take payment. It can be pretty boring seeing as I'm not technically supposed to do anything else (ie any waitressing) but I do what I can to help out. It does mean that instead of melting of heat in the kitchen, I'm out the front standing by the door catching the breeze that comes through if I can. And I also have a particualrly fetching waistcoat and orange shirt to wear that contrasts beautifully with my ginger hair. (Note: It doesn't). My hours have changed from a mix of full and half days with only one day off a week to 11-close three days a week with one half day and the rest of them off. Yup. 3 days off a week. This is very exciting. So, yeah. Megan's in charge. Boom. Fun fun fun. 

Other than working, I have done very little. I've been out every weekend to the local 'club' which can barely be called that due to its tiny size. I've worked. I've eaten. Slept. Played Candy Crush. The usual really. 

I am excited though because my English teacher has a young adults book that is coming out in October and she's asked me to have a read and review it for her. So I'm picking that up tomorrow and I'm sure that it'll be fabulous. I love a good Victorian story! And it's free.....I love free things! Well, I'm pretty sure that that's all folks! 

How dull. 

M x

Prom 2013

Against my better judgement (and because my £30 ticket was half price) I decided that I would actually go to Prom, Class of 2006. Now, as I've said many many many times before, I don't really feel a connection with the lower year and so the idea of going to their prom left me dubious to say the least. But nope. I decided that I wouldn't be left out of this one and so last minute, I gathered together something to wear in the hopes that I would, at least, look semi-presentable. 

The dress I ended up wearing was one that I brought 2 or 3 years ago for a friends birthday for £10 online. It's safe to say that it wasn't made very well so the night before I had to spend a good half hour or so with the ol' needle and thread making sure that it actually fit/wouldn't fall apart half way through the night. My sewing skills must be far better than I thought they were because, phew, the dress is still in one piece. Yay for me. 

I got ready with a girl that I absolutely adore, Emily. After leaving work late in the day, having a haircut that ran over and then hitting ridiculous traffic, I had all of 30 minutes to get ready and so flying around and throwing makeup at my face whilst Emily casually made her way through two bottles of wine wasn't the start to the night that I had envisaged. But that's okay. The result was reasonably charming. 

Arriving in the back of a van (classy) was all part of the fun and then the night got under way. The girls that had arranged prom had done a bloody brilliant job and it made for a night that was far better than I had expected it to be. The photo booth was fantastic and the chocolate fountain even more so. Although there were times when I was a complete loner and ended up having in depth chats with the teachers because noone I really knew was around, it all added to the evening and I'm pretty sure that I wasn't the only one who really enjoyed it. The girl that won prom queen thoroughly deserved it, being the one that organised the entire event. Well done, Shiv. You're a superstar. 

I have to say though, my feet and my head weren't enjoying themselves so much the next morning though. Wearing heels for almost 7 hours isn't particularly fun. And I'm sure that we all know the pain that a good hangover can inflict. 

Ouch. 

Hannah and I. Boy, do I love this girl. 

My Economics and Law teacher to whom I owe my love for Despicable Me. 

The gorgeous Miss Lucy (Have a looksy at her blog right her right now)

Thanks to everyone that made it such a fantastic night and the very best to you all!! 

M x 

Daddy Ruddy

I'm not sure about everywhere else in the world, but Sunday the 16th was Fathers day in England. My dad doesn't live with me and I don't get to see him that often and so when my brother suggested that all us kids (there are four of us) get together and make our way up to London to surprise him, I was very excited! One of my brothers lives with dad, the other lives down near me and my sister is a couple of hours away so it's not often that we all get together. In fact, it's pretty damn rare. So I took the day off work and my brother and I made our way to the arranged meeting point to meet my sister. 

Now, I love my sister. And I mean a lot. I don't see her anywhere near enough but she's one of the biggest influences on my life, which may explain why I turned out the way that I did. So although the day was about seeing my dada, I was also pretty damn hyped to see Rebby. We all then proceeded to dads place and met the brother who lives with him outside and then traipsed in. Cor, was the old man surprised! He didn't recognise us at first, thinking we were a group of Jacks friends, but he seemed pretty overjoyed when he eventually realised that we were, in fact, his children. Bless him. David (my older brother) had already booked somewhere for a meal and when we told him that we were going out to eat, he looked pretty pleased for us and said something along the lines of 'oh, that'll be nice. Have fun'. Ermmm... it's Father's day. You're coming with us, you dope.

The meal was lovely and the company even better. Despite burning myself on a hot plate - yup, I mindlessly reached out and tried to move it depsite the guy having just warned us it was hot and using a towel to place it down - we all had a lovely evening. Dad seemed truly speechless about us all having turned up which was great. Secrets usually aren't our forte. 

It was so lovely to all be together and it was a shame that mum couldn't come with us, but we all had a really good day and dad thoroughly enjoyed his surprise present. 

I love you, daddy :) 

M x 

"I'm Just Popping Outside"

Warning: This is a moany, self pitying post. Megan is feeling pretty grumpy. 

Since my last blog post, not much has happened. I've worked a ridiculous amount (I mean really. Work is hard. They want me to actually do stuff and apparently it has to be done 'properly'. Ugh) and good news! I'm getting better. The dreaded steps have yet to trip me up although I'm still waiting for the day the floor and I become close acquaintances and I feel that I know what's occurring far more which has resulted in me being a little bit happier and thinking hey, perhaps I'm not sack-worthy! There's nothing like a teeny bit of self confidence. 

It was half term last week. For those that don't know for whatever reason, that pretty much means that schools have a week off and so a lot of people go on holiday and touristy areas such as the place that I live are swamped with people in strappy tops, flop flops and shorts who are hoping that it is sunny. A fish and chip shop obviously attracts a whole lot of sunburnt people. The place was absolutely packed most days and so I worked every day. In the place that I work, I spend most of the time in the restaurant taking orders or in a tiny kitchen where the drinks are prepared and the mugs etc are washed by an industrial washer that blows out a whole lot of steam. As you can probably imagine, with a crowded restaurant (I'd guess we can do around 50 people at once?) there is a hell of a lot of stuff that needs to get put through the washer pretty damn quickly. In short, the kitchen gets Hot with a capital H. The waitresses are usually flying around going from table to kitchen to fish fryers to table to kitchen to fryer... you get the picture. Anyone who says that working is not a work out is wrong. 

But it's not the working that I have a problem with. When the customers are leaving and you're wiping down the tables at a pace that seems snail-like compared to the way that you've been manically moving around at, it's actually very satisfying to think that you've got through the shift without collapsing in a mangled heap. 

No, what really grinds my gears are the following words;

'I'm just going to pop outside'

This exact wording of this probably varies from place to place but where I work, 'I'm just going to pop outside' is the way of saying 'I'm going for a smoke'. Now, this would be perfectly okay with me if we were completely quiet and no one was waiting to be served or receive food or, actually, waiting for anything. If we had nobody in and we were all sat around doing nothing, it would be a brilliant time to go outside and feed a habit. Any other time? Yeah, I'm not okay with that.

Off the top of my head, I think that I'm one of two waitresses that don't smoke and it's not often that I'm working with her, so I am usually with at least one other waitress and a manager that smokes. I don't actually have a problem with smoking; you want to smoke? You puff your little lungs black, honey. But do it in your own god damn time. Why is it that I, who often starts and finishes the same time as you do, should cover your tables as well as mine and stay inside on a gorgeous sunny day while you go out for ten minutes and smoke three or four times a shift? Me no comprehenday. 

We each have a radio at work so that we can contact the kitchen and each other (it's actually pretty nifty) and the more I hear '*person*, your tables food is ready' 'Oh, Meg can you get that for me?', the more it really starts to grate on me. This all sounds like a pretty childish rant because boo hoo, I have to do more work than anyone else, but that's not it. I just feel that the simple fact that I don't smoke shouldn't mean that I can't take a couple of minutes to sit down and chill out. Regroup. Calm. Because it can get pretty damn stressful in this bloody chip shop. 

And that goes for any work place. Remember that episode of Friends where Rachel is left out of decision making because they're all gathered on the roof smoking and talking about business? 

"It's like I'm being punished for not having this disgusting, poisoning habit!"  

I'm with ya there, Rach. It's an absolute bitch. 

So don't complain to me that you're so hot in the kitchen or your feet are hurting or you've barely sat down all day because buddy, I too have been in this kitchen and my feet are throbbing like a son of a gun. Only guess what? I don't have an excuse to 'pop outside' and take a nice breath of air for ten minutes and rest my bones when I feel like it because hey, I'm supposed to be working.

Cor blimey. It don't 'alf do me 'ead in! 

Rant over. 

M x 

I Should be Fired.

Just a quick update on the disaster that is... my life.

This week I started a new job. Since I've finished school and am in desperate need of some moneys, I got myself another little job working in a fish and chip shop not too far from me. I swore to myself that I would never work in a chip shop. Snobby? Mayhap. But I really didn't fancy the whole greasy hair/skin situation and stinking of chips and oil. That is no way to attract a life mate. But I have a lot of friends that work in this place and I have two close friends that work there and actually own a flat above it so I have somewhere to spend my breaks. I have plenty of hours there and it's convenient. I'm not in the actual frying part of the shop, more a separate section waitressing so it's not all bad. So here we are. Megan works in a chip shop as well as waitressing in the restaurant that I've worked in since I was 14. Hello Miss Moneybags. The fact that I will probably spend all money that I get the minute I get it is neither here nor there. 

I've finished 5 shifts at Frydays now and holey moley. I am absolutely stunned that I haven't been fired yet. I would have sacked me. Really. I consider myself to be reasonably clever. I can hold an intelligent conversation and I'm not exactly stupid, but anyone that has met me this last week must think that I am the doziest mare around. I've spilt jugs of milk. I've dropped plates of food on floor successfully smashing the plate. I've set three alarms that didn't go off so turned up 2 hours late for work. I've brought drinks to the wrong table. I've rung wrong orders through,  I've filled the salt pots with sugar. I mean, really. I am yet to complete a shift without making a ridiculous mistake that a 19 year old really shouldn't make. I have a feeling that the woman who is in charge is complaining about me to anyone that will listen and I, in all honestly wouldn't blame her. I have been awful. Although I have provided great amusement to my friends that work with me and made them all look like the very best of workers. Fantastic. 

I'm hoping that it's just been a bad week and I get better soon. It would be nice to prove that I'm not a complete clutz. I think that I'm just going to have to concentrate on every tiny movement I make which I've been trying to do but... I don't know. Things can only get better. 

I really enjoy working there so I hope they don't fire me before I get the hang of it! I don't want to hang up my apron and cap (yes, I have to wear a cap. Boo) yet! 

Oh. And there is a set of stairs that I have to walk up and down to collect each order. I am honestly waiting for the day that I fall down/up them. We all know it's coming. 

But at least it's the weekend now! I'm working tomorrow during the day at Frydays and then the evening at my other job. And then? Well. 

Yup. Although it's not good to drink your problems away, that is exactly what I intend to go. Vodka, come at me. Here's to a better week. Cheers. 

M x 

End of an Era

Well, readers. I am officially out of School/College/Sixth Form. Whatever you want to call it, I'm out of it. Really, I could not be happier. I spent an extra year of my life at my sixth form as I have explained in a previous post and to finally be done is just the biggest weight off my shoulders. I think that I've said it before, but I just didn't feel like I belonged there any more. My year group had all left and moved on with their lives and there I was with a group of people that I wasn't that keen on. Harsh, probably, but true. There are a handful of said year group that I adored and considered really good friends but the rest? Eh. Insert shrug here. Not seeing them every day won't be a loss and I'm sure that they'd say the same about me. But moving on. You know what? I think I might whack out the subheadings for this post. 

Last Day Drama

So on my last day, I had two exams; Economics and English Literature. The exam boards had scheduled them both for 1pm which meant that I had to sit my English exam early at 10:30. Annoying, yes. But not a problem. So in I go (I'm alone because I'm the only one who has this clash) and for those that haven't sat an English Lit exam, it's split into two essay questions that you're supposed to spend about an hour on each. One is an essay that you write about an extract that you're given and the other is about poetry, in my case Tennyson. So during the year you have a book of poems that you annotate and then when you get into the exam, you're given a another copy of the book which is blank and so you write your essay about whatever poem they've decided you've got to write it about. Anyway. So I'm feeling pretty good. My last essays I've handed have come back on my Moomin notepaper with a surprisingly cheery grade on. I've been sleeping well. I've had a ridiculous amount of coffee and I have that confident 'Exam, you're going down' spring in my step. I sit down, plan the first essay, start to write it and then notice that I've not actually been given a copy of the poetry book that I'm supposed to have. The invigilator looks pretty damn panicked when I tell him because hey, lets face it, they don't want to be dealing with this crap and then the exams boss lady comes in and tells me that they don't have any Tennyson books and, in short, I'm screwed. So to cut an already long boring story short, I had to sit half of my English exam and then stop and do my Economics exam while randomers went running around, desperately trying to find a very particular selection of Tennyson poems. It wasn't fun. I was losing my mind. When they handed me my Economics exam my brain literally went 'HA NO THIS IS NOT HAPPENING' and gave up. I can safely say that I have failed that exam. Eventually, they photocopied someone elses book and I had to sit the second half of my English exam 3 3 hours after I had started it. I'm not sure whose fault it was that I hadn't been given the book - the school said that the exam board didn't send them, but I personally think that it should have been doubled checked? Am I wrong? Either way, I'm gutted. As I was writing my first essay people were coming in and out of the hall and whispering to each other but not telling me what was going on so it's safe to say that my mind wasn't completely focused. I've been told that I'll be put in for special consideration but that means that I'll get a couple more marks when I'm sure that I would have done infinitely better had I been able to do my 2 hour English exam, have a half hour break and then do my Economics as expected. There we have it. My last day of school was pretty messed up. Typical!

It's not been all bad... 

I've made some friends this year who I hadn't even heard of last year. They've managed to make the painfully long breaks and lunches go a lot faster and been the root of some cheery memories that have made the year worth while. I love you fellas. I really do. 

This is probably going to be the dorkiest thing that I have written in a very long time but you know what? My blog, people. Deal with it. I was absolutely dreading this year. And we all know that I've not enjoyed it as such, but it hasn't been all bad. For a start, my lessons have been brilliant. Yup. That's right. One of the big highlights of my school year has been my lessons. I took 3 subjects this year and had four teachers (two for English). My Economics teacher really is as good as they come. He is one of those that make the most complicated of subjects simple. The man is teaching God. He expects the absolute best from his students and really encourages them all which should go without saying from a teacher but I've found sadly does not. If you need help with something, he'll help you. Simple. I really got on with him and although he can be an absolute douche, you always know that he has your back. I had a massive drama with a teacher when I was in year 12 and if he hadn't been behind me with it, I would have absolutely lost my mind because I know that nobody else would have. It really makes a difference when you know that a teacher is going to listen to what you have to say and take you seriously, not treat you like a child and automatically take the side of the adult. Coooor, there is nothing worse! 

And English, despite the exam being a nightmare, was brilliant. I walked into my first lesson having never been taught by either of my two teachers but having heard a lot about them from friends (one I'd heard to be an absolute hero but the other... Well, she has a reputation for being a bit scary ;) ) I was also in a class of 16/17 year olds that I didn't know and being the grand old age of 19, I wasn't really sure how it was going to go. But a friend of mine, Jared, turned up and oh my Jesus it was a relief. But the class turned out to be lovely (although I don't think I heard most of them speak until a good 3 months into the year) and both teachers were absolutely lovely. I got on really well with both of them and I'm actually really going to miss them. Yup. Loser Megan is a loser. One of them is the biggest feminist you've ever met and mad as a box of a frogs but she's a hoot and a half and managed to make Tennyson (semi) interesting so, ya know, hats off to her. I came to actually really admire her - there is absolutely no messing with this woman. I mean, really. She's nails. My other teacher also had her pretty crazy moments and I admire her just as much. She taught us the Victorian topic and as a published author (I'll be waiting for my signed copy when her book is out at the end of the year!!) who has based her stories in the Victorian era, there is very little that she doesn't know about ye olden daye. It's amazing how much of a difference it makes when a teacher clearly adores their topic and knows everything there is to know about it. I think that I mentioned before in my post about my week at Arvon, but we have the same taste in books and she's lent me a couple over the year which I loved. There really is nothing better than a person who likes the same books as you. At least if there is, I'm yet to find it. 

Yup. The teachers that you have really do make an incredible difference to the year. I've had years when lessons have been such a struggle and topics have been unbearable because of the person in charge. I was so lucky this year.

So what's next?

Uni, come at me! I really cannot wait. I've been in a tiny little town for far too long now. This little bird has wings that need to be spread! 

I've gotten myself another job for the summer so I have two now which will keep me busy and, more importantly, get the moneys rolling in! I'm going to need it when I'm a poor, poor student in September. And then it's off to Bournemouth University (if all goes to plan) to study Public Relations. That's right. I'm going to be the real life Eddie from Absolutely Fabulous. I just need to find my Patsy... 

A little excitement

I also received an uncorrected proof of a book called 'My Notorious Life by Madame x' by Kate Manning the other day. I am so excited to read it! I won it in a give away on Goodreads.com and the cover alone makes me want to read it! 

‘In the end, they celebrated. They bragged.

They got me finally, was their feeling.

They said I would take my secrets to the grave.

They should be so lucky.’

'A stunning tale of sex, freedom, family and the many faces of love, set in nineteenth-century New York'?? I am all over that! I can't wait to get my teeth into it. 

And it's recommended to those that love The Night Circus and The Crimson Petal and the White which are two of my favourite books. Ooft, it's gonna be a good'en!! 

And with that, I shall leave you! This has been me for the last week or two and this has been one tedious blog post! If you've made it this far, I salute you and give you my humble thanks!

For those of you that are taking exams, whatever they may be, I wish you the best of luck and hope they go a little smoother than mine did!! 

M x

Megan is Angry

I went out last night to the local club. And I use the word 'club' very loosely. This place is absolutely tiny and in the middle of a sleepy seaside down which never has anything happen in it. It's all very picturesque and pretty and old people'y. Lovely. So I went out with some friends and for the first time in a very very very long time I was actually really enjoying myself! Yay! 

Until I checked my phone. 

Or didn't, as the case may be. 

Because someone has stolen my dear little mobile. 

I have been absolutely fuming all day. My beloved iphone 3 is no longer here and it has made me absolutely inconsolable. Don't get me wrong, I know that it's ridiculous to be so attached to a phone and I actually consider myself to be less attached than a lot of people I know; I occasionally like to be phone'less and enjoy the real world. But having the choice to put your phone down or leave it at home is so different from having it taken. 

I only brought this phone 2 months ago and I know. Iphone 3. Apple don't even do updates for it anymore. It sucks and it's crap but it was mine. It was my Ipod too and as someone that has music playing 24 hours a day, I'm not very impressed. The screen was broken in two places and it had a lock on it. There is absolutely no reason for a sane person to want this hunk'o'junk; they'd make no money on it and I highly doubt that anyone would actually want to use it, so why take it? 

This is what I hate. 

Going out for a night is hardwork now! Not now my phones been stolen, I mean, but in general. You have to decide what you want to take with you and then you have to decide how you're going to carry that round with you because if you don't... boom. Taken. I've had a lot of friends that have had things stolen from cloak rooms so even they're not safe. Purses, cameras, phones. We want to take them out with us on a night out but there is always the risk that someone is going to take a fancy to your stuff that you've paid for and just take it for themselves. What gives them that right? Really? What makes them think that they can go on a night out and take a girls handbag or see a phone lying around and just take it for themselves? It's ridiculous. That persons night is automatically ruined as is, more than likely, the following day because they're going to be doing everything they can to get their belongings back. 

It really baffles me. 

And at this moment in time, it really pisses me off. 

I've spent my day, between shifts at work, trying to track down my lost phone. Calling the club. Calling my phone. Talking to o2. Talking to Carphone Warehouse. All credit to my bosses who didn't go insane at me constantly talking about my beloved phone. 

I just want it back :( 

RIP IPHONE

I'll Miss You

March 2013 - May 2013.

M x 

Adventures to Birmingham

I'm not sure if I mentioned this in a previous post, but for my birthday my brother brought me P!nk tickets. I can't explain how excited I was. With 2 months two go, I patiently waited down the months and weeks and days until the 22nd of April was within tasting distance. Then I got super excited. 

The concert was in Birmingham which is about 3 hours from where I live and my brother booked up some swanky looking hotel rooms for us (he was coming with me). My darling friend, Jess, lives in Birmingham so the plan was to meet up with her on Monday day and then see P!nk in the evening. It was a plan that was perfectly laid but as we all know, the most perfect of plans usually fall flat and end up a giant waste of excitement. 

On Monday morning I got up ridiculously early (half 6? Is that even a time?! I think not) and threw some clothes in a bag and off we set. For the three hours that we were travelling, I was texting Jess back and forth about where to meet her and what was going on and how very very very excited I was to see her. We got there in the end and ... Jess got lost. That crazy creature of a girl had managed to get lost in the city that she has known since she was a mere child. Only her. Tut. But anyway, I eventually saw this lovely girl with her dipdyed hair walking towards me. Eep! 

I can honestly say I've not had such a good day for a very long time. We didn't do anything particularly special. We moseyed around 2 Pandora shops so that she could try and find the Pandora charms that the Girls Aloud girls have because she is absolutely insanely obsessed with them. We obsesseys tend to stick together, you know. We spent god knows how long in various toy stores pressing buttons and gizmos and marveling at just how bloody wonderful Disney is and how lucky kids are to be able to have all the toys and games and clothes and teddies and stuff brought for them. We went and saw the Birmingham Bull which I had never heard of but is, apparently, a  very big attraction in Birms. We got a Starbucks and sat and chatted for a while. We were asked the significance of a church by a french woman that we were't able to answer. We went to Primark and shared our disgust at pretty much all the clothes there. It seems like an average day and it probably was. But I loved every second and Jess, if you're reading this, I love you very much. 

First View of Birms... Glass

So Jess dropped me off at my hotel and off she went into the sunset so that I could get ready for P!nk. I spend some time enjoying the amazing shower in my hotel room and watching TV, reveling in being able to pick the channel I wanted and the volume I wanted. Heaven. Cut to a while later when my brother and I are in a bar having a couple of drinks before we leave. Finally. The time has come. Nothing can stop me from seeing P!nk now. 

All dressed up with no place to go

Except a phone call from Jess saying that she'd been sat next to two girls on the train that had been crying their eyes out. Why I hear you ask? Oh. You know. Because P!nk had cancelled. Brilliant. Bloody brilliant. 

So I didn't get to see her and I am gutted. She has said that she's going to reschedule but it doesn't make me any less bitter. Boo. Hiss. 

 Drink the sadness away

Instead, we went to a swanky Indian place and were treated like royalty. It's funny how well people treat you when they know their food prices are sky high. Hmmm. 

Back in my hotel room I watched the last episode of Broadchurch (gasp! Amazing!!) and enjoyed a verrrryyyyy nice nights sleep. And then we were off home. Back to boring old Devon where there's not as much pollution, more fields and my Mumma, but also void of the excitement that comes with being somewhere that you don't live. Sigh. 

Bye Bye Birmingham

So I didn't get to see P!nk and my first trip to Birms wasn't exactly what I thought it would be, but I had a beautiful day with a beautiful girl that I will remember for a long long time. And hey, if P!nk does reschedule, maybe I'll get to do it all over again. Jess, get ready. Megan's coming back! #

Did any of you readers have tickets for the same concert at the LG on the 22nd?? I don't suppose you did, but let me know! Or have you been the victim of a concert cancellation? What did you do instead? Let me know!

Ps. I'm sorry for typing P!nk with the exclaimation mark so many times. It winds me up too. 

PPS. If you fancy giving me a little follow on Instagram, my username (Instaname?) is Megrudders_ 

M x 

Shiny, Shiny Hair.

Recently my hair has had enough and well and truly given up the ghost. After having it cut, I couldn't believe how lovely it felt and how soft and healthy. Ooft. It was amazing. At that time I was dying it from my natural blonde to brown so I knew that I would be redying every 6 weeks or so. And then I got bored of brown and wanted to go ginger. So off to Tesco I went and brought me some ginger dye and ... it didn't work. The brown was too dark and the colour just didn't take. Way to waste money, Megan. But the next day my friend and I had the brilliant idea of bleaching it to make it dip dyed! Yay. Smart move. Only the ends of my hair turned, what, the blonde that I now wanted? Nope. The ginger that I had wanted the previous day. But I looked like some kind of ginger/brunette crossbreed which was not attractive. So with the rest of the bleach that we had, we dyed the top half of my hair and, although effectively turned it ginger, managed to kill it. My newly alive hair wasn't so alive anymore. Weep. Sob. 

So I've been using different products in an attempt to revive my hair but alas, to no avail. 

(This is where I get to the point of this blog post. I'm just setting the scene. Megan. Dead hair. Got it? Good) 

Wandering around my local little (and I mean tiny) pharmacy the other day, I was on the hunt for a hair mask or treatment of some kind and came across V05 Hot Oil Give Me Moisture. I had a vague memory of my mum using it in the past and so at £3.50 for four treatments, I brought it.

 Each treatment comes in an individual soft plastic tube with a twist top. Before opening, you just drop it in some warm water for a couple of minutes (or you can drop it in the bath with you or run it under your shower water) and then take the top off and whack it one your hair. The instructions say to only leave it on for one minute because it's strong and can cause damage if used for longer. I'm not too sure about that because companies say all kinds of things to cover their own backs if anything goes wrong, but I left it on for a minute none-the-less and then washed it off. I have to say, my hair didn't feel much different at that time but  you know, you have to give these things a chance. I've read a couple of people saying that the smell is a bit too strong for them but I could barely smell it at all. You then wash your hair with shampoo and conditioner as usual. 

When I blow dried my hair with my usual heat defense, I noticed immediately that it felt softer. It almost feels how it did before I bleached it which, let me tell you, was bloody unexpected. It also look so shiny! Yay! The stray hairs that were sticking up all over the place and really grinding my gears before stayed down and in place which, with my current bob, is an absolute must. Random hair sticking out really doesn't look good but this oil seemed to help tame my hair a little. I'm absolutely thrilled. 

For the price, this is a must have product. It says that you should use it once weekly or more if necessary and seeing as that would only be £3.50 a month, I'll definitely be investing. My hair looks and feels so much healthier and it's surprising how much better you feel about yourself when your hair is in good condition. 

 

I would highly recommend this product to anyone in need of a hair boost and seeing as the pharmacist I got it in was a very small town one, I'm sure that you can pick it up in any Boots, Superdrug or drugstore. 

What're you waiting for?! 

M x