I love yoga – who am I?!

If you had told me a couple of months ago that I would genuinely get excited for an evening yoga class I would probably have laughed in your face.

Yes, I love team sports and exercise, but the thought of stretching in a room with complete strangers did not excite me in any way, shape or form.

Yoga always seemed like a very wishy-washy form of exercise to me; for people who only eat organic, and aren’t die hard carb fans like myself.

But, I am a changed woman.

My work friend and I go to the same gym, and wanted to join some classes together. Fast forward to me being slightly tipsy after a quiz at work and deciding to sign up to the next days class with her.

I’m not a nervous or anxious person at all, but before the class I did feel slightly apprehensive. Apart from going to the gym, I don’t really do any proper exercise; especially exercise where other people are simultaneously doing the same thing as you, and yes – they will probably be much better.

I love trying new things, but I hate not being good at them straight away.

Yoga was different.

At first, I think we both felt a bit silly. Our instructor turned off the lights, sprayed some lavender and put on some calming music. It all felt a bit too soft for me, and yes, I felt pretty dumb.

But once it started I really began to enjoy it. And surprisingly I was actually better than I expected. I may not be very flexible, but I am quite strong, and I found myself holding positions with a lot more ease than anticipated.

Very quickly, the hour had melted away, as had the rest of my day.

We both came out of the class feeling much better, and unexpectedly happier. We were shocked at how much we enjoyed it.

It’s been a few months now and I feel I’m really catching the yoga bug. I didn’t go for about a month, and when I did my first class last week since then I was once again apprehensive.

But I needn’t have been. I remembered a lot more than I thought I would have done, and even managed to feel comfortable with new positions. Our instructor is teaching is like a course, so I was nervous that I would be behind and feel uncomfortable. But I didn’t.

I came out of the class feeling refreshed and proud.

She does two classes a week, and if I’m not dying from the night before, I would quite like to start the Sunday classes too.

For someone who is not very stretchy, yoga is quickly starting to become something I not only enjoy, but really look forward to. I even feel guilty missing classes.

Am I a yoga freak now?

Probably not, but I can name about 3 poses, and for now – that will do.


I am a grumpy girl

Hello pals.

God knows when I last posted on this blog. I am very lazy and great at procrastinating and I suck.

But you know what else sucks?

Having tonsillitis twice in two weeks. Hell yeah. Welcome to my wonderful life.

I don’t really have anything else relevant to say. We have a new colleague at work, so hopefully everything will be less intense and stressful. However Christmas is coming up so probably not.

I feel like I never have any spare time to myself at the moment, which is probably a factor into my terrible worn down immune system. I have lost weight though (yay!) – although it’s probably due to not being able to eat solid foods for two weeks (lol).

I have two new housemates – one I have met and one I haven’t. I’m currently holed up in my bedroom hoping the new housemate doesn’t want to chat because guess what? I have no fucking voice.

How fucking fun.

My dinner tonight is a frube yoghurt in bed, and I just nearly choked on one tonsillitis tablet. And to top it all off I’m taking kids liquid medicine because I can’t swallow.

Ultimate sad face right now.

It’s my birthday in a couple weeks too and I have no plans, and need to take time off. I was gonna go away but now all the flights seem to be fucking up at the moment and I don’t wanna risk it and waste money.

Long story short, I need a sugar daddy.

Goodnight x


I’m still here..

Hello Cyberspace.

It’s me, the flaky friend who leaves all your messages on read and replies months later.

But I’m back

And better than ever (I’m not.)


The past few months have all been a bit weird and a bit mental but here we are. I moved out! Horray! My family are great but maaaan it’s good to not have to tell mum & dad your daily plans. A random Whatsapp will suffice for me now. I’m currently living in Cambridge, in a gorgeous wee village on the outskirts. The house I live in was built in 1722 (!) and the history geek inside me is loving life. It’s kind of like a little hobbit hole; very long and windy and wobbly with low ceilings and secret doors everywhere. Very me, and very Cambridge and very cute. But sadly I may be moving soon. Who knows. At the moment it’s just me chilling on my own, but pretty soon I think there will be new tenants. Not that I don’t like people – I absolutely love people – but when you’ve started to get used to being alone (sad) it’s kind of weird having someone else join your life.

Only issue is that living in Cambridge is expeeeeeensive, and living alone even more so. But being independent is The One and I love having my own space and coming and going as I please. Basically I need a new job that pays amazingly so I can move out away and be free and have a nice place of my own with vintage ornaments and weird art and just be a happy little hermit. Someone hire me please.

Not that I don’t have a job. I have a great new job in Cambridge as a sales & events co-ordinator. It’s good, but I feel like I could be doing more with my life. The novelty has worn off and I think I need something more challenging. Who knows what will happen. I just want to work hard and make good money and feel productive all the time.

But for now this will do. I’ve got some great friends here and overall life is pretty good, but I definitely feel that it’s time for some kind of life-affirming change at some point. I feel like I don’t get enough me time with this job as the hours are funny, and sometimes late. I want to join a choir and a dance class and have time for the gym and long slow cooked dinners and wine before bed and at the moment I am just cramming all of life into one small eggcup.

Summer is just around the corner and I want to explore the world a bit more. My siblings and I have started a fun tradition where we get a cheap flight via Kayak or BA  and just jet off to somewhere in Europe for a couple days. It’s glorious! We went to Oslo last month (which I need to post about!) and we’re going to Toulouse as of Sunday 5am (ew!)

I really love travelling and this two day tour traditional has got my travel bug excited again!

I just want to be able to explore the world and get paid doing it

One day

Time to push that dream hard

Peace & love



I am aware I’m slightly late to the party (as ever) but I’ve decided to do some kind of vague resolution stuff for the rest of the year.

Obviously it’s not a proper resolution because it didn’t start on Jan 1st, and it’s not really a resolution anyway, more of an idea.

I’m digressing.

This year, I want the whole year to be a challenge year. I’ve never set, let alone done a resolution before so I thought I’d do things ‘my way’. What a shock.

Every month this year I want to set myself a new challenge to have completed by the end of the month. It could be anything; stuff that makes me feel good, stuff I’ve always wanted to do, stuff I’ve never dreamt of. I just want to have a year of success in all areas of my life. 

I only have a few rough ideas so far, but I think I’m gonna ask my pals and family for more ideas as the year progresses.

So far I want to 

  • Donate as much as possible to charity
  • Go veggie 
  • Learn to juggle

And the rest is still unwritten. (Cheers Natasha Bedingfield)

This month I’m doing the charity one; I started late with this concept so I thought I’d go easy and wean myself in nice and slowly. I already have a full rucksack (plus extras!) of stuff to donate and I’m looking forward to having less crap in my room!

If anyone can think of anything else that would be A*. I am seriously lacking inspiration!

Over & out

Lou x 

Edinburgh at NYE (and beyond)

I’m sat in bed eating cold carbonara and not having washed.

New Year has killed me.

Months and months ago my best pal, Tash and I decided to revist Edinburgh for NYE. We went a few years ago with her family where we were cute and young and decided we deserved to re-do it but without the parents bit. So instead we invited her cousins who joined us last time, and our pal Ben. They each invited two more people and we had a cute lil clan of 9.

Every year Edinburgh does a massive concert with a great musician. When we went we saw KT Tunstall. This year we were hoping and praying they would have the ultimate sex god Paolo Nutini there. It was just wishful thinking. Except it wasn’t. We found that out one day when I stayed at Tash’s and she threw her phone across the bed in excitement. Best way to learn of a gig ever.

Soooo we got two aparentments for us and waited and waited until the big day.

The first day was pretty dull tbh. We spend a lot of time pushing a lot of bags into a smallish car (shoutout to Tash for driving) and being a bit squashed, but we did laugh a horrendous amount and sing very loudly and badly, and then got very lost once we arrived.

Thankfully the other guys got there before us five so we managed to find them and the apartments and then it was drinking time. Thank God for the Co-op round the corner. We essentially spent the night playing funny drinking games and then wandering round town. It was pretty dead so we went to some randoms pubs and then staggered home.

New Years Eve was way more fun. We had a cute breakfast together then all went into town. We thought we’d be cultured AF so we went to the National Gallery and hung around being arty as and taking selfies. Obvs.

We then wandered up to the castle but it was £15 each so we just hung about in the gift shop being weird until we got bored and strutted back home. One thing I will say is that all the hill have greatly improved the perkiness of my butt and I kinda wanna move there just for the free exercise. Thank u Edinburgh.

Obviously it was NYE so we were drinking and also seeing Paolo (!) so we went next door to the other guys’ apartments and played more games, and I earned the nickname Subtle Lou. Cheers boys.

After getting very sloppy we walked back in to town to see the main man Paolo. We were fangirling like mad, and Cleo and I were very keen to be at the front. So, being v drunk we held hands and sprinted to the barrier. I fell over and got mud all over my ass, and then we got stopped because we didn’t have our tickets with us. Good job, girls.

However, we did get pretty fucking close in the end.

I can’t even start to describe how good Paolo was. I’ve seen him twice before and he just does not fail to improve. Honestly I thought I’d died and gone to heaven he was amazing. I kept very loudly saying how overwhelmingly hot he was too and getting a bit too Thirsty and Excited. Obviously we couldn’t leave because we were so close to the front and excited so by the end of it Tash and I were both close to tears because we needed a wee so much. Luckily we made it, and then merrily stumbled on to the street party.

Weirdly, we ended up in the pub Tash and I went to 7 years ago, which was a throwback. It played lots of cheesy music and then we scampered off to the only club  that was letting people in. It was a bit of a weird vibe, it was very dark and everyone seemed very old, but I did get tequila bought for me and then I ran away immediately after. Such a charmer.

Eventually we ended up back home, after crashing a very rich house party and stealing broken champagne (don’t ask) and in  a brand new year (wtf?!)

Our first day of 2017 was pretty good

We all started out very dead, but decided we Must Be Productive and utilise our time left in Scotland. We decided to walk back up the hill (why?!) and visit Camera Obscura. Tash and I only ended up doing it while the others did the Cathedral but it was so amazing. The view from the top was completely beautiful and insane, especially with all the Christmas lights and craziness. Everything was very interactive which was really good fun, and we could take loads of pictures. There was this one vortex tunnel thing that you walk through and it feels like you’re spinning. While it’s totally amazing and really fun I do not recommend doing that on a hangover. My tummy was falling out of me (granted we did run through it several times) and I felt like I was a gonner. But I’m tough as balls so I survived.

When Tash and I arrived back at the apartment the other cuties had cooked us burgers so we had them and chilled for a bit. One thing we all really wanted to do was a Ghost Walk, and after scouring the internet we finally found a last minute tour with places left on it. Due to me being Totally Awful we went late and an uber cancelled on us, so we had to do the 23 minute walk in 25 minutes. But hills.

Ben and I took the lead, which also involved sprinting up a hill. We may have cheated and hopped in a taxi, but we did make it on perfect timing (and managed to take a carton of juice (also known as wine) in with us.

The other three caught up and we had to sneak them in !

The tour guide was amazing, and very Matt Smith as Dr Who vibes – a lot of eccentric prancing about. At one point Cleo and I needed to dive into a restaurant for a wee (a common theme) and then again had to sprint to catch up with the group, who were just about to enter the underground tunnels. It was very cool and very creepy and in my progressive drunkness I ended up calling the Tour Guide ‘Ghost Daddy’ which is probs not the vibe he was going for.

Seeing as it was our last night we decided to end it on a high by going to a cheesy music club. Which is how we fell in a weird kind of love with the Hive. Granted the other places we tried were closed, so we had to settle but we had so much fun. It was the type of sticky floor, shit music that we were craving so badly. Highlight of the night was Ben demanding the club photographer to take another photo because he’d contoured. That’s my boy.

After a very late walk home and telling ghost stories in the dark in the kitchen (don’t ask) we woke up on our last morning of the holiday. By which I mean check out was at 10am, and we all got up at 9:30 and cleaned the apartment in a wild and horrific rush.

But we made it.

The car journey home consisted of Cleo being very sick, looking at the hilarous photos Beth took of the weekend, trying to play games to keep Tash awake, and all trying to cling onto a glimmer of hope that we would be home.

We’ve all moaned on the group chat about how dead and broken we are, and how today has defeated us,  but all in all Edinburgh was amazing, and I am glad to be broken.

Roll on NYE 2018!

Just a girl, standing in front of a boy – book review

I’ll be the first to admit it – I always judge books by their covers.

I don’t even mean this in a metaphorical sense. I literally judge books by their covers.

And I really shouldn’t – because this is one of the occasions where I was wrong.

I had a big clearout of my bedroom recently. Re-organised all the cupboards and clothes and threw a lot away. In the process I found a lot of books. A lot, a lot. And I had barely read any of them. So I neatly stored them in a box on top of my wardrobe and ever since I have been trying to read through them in the hopes that I can then recycle them afterwards.

This was my first book of the challenge – ‘Just a girl, standing in front of a boy by Lucy-Anne Holmes

As I mentioned- first impressions weren’t great. I think I actually got given this book as a Christmas present from my mum, looked at the cover, read the blurb, thought ‘nah’ and left it hidden.

First impressions from the cover, title and blurb were that this was just another cringey romance novel. Punctuated by sickly romance, a far too good looking male lead, a wilting flower of a protagonist, who is plain, but in the sort of ‘size 6 Hollywood actress plain’ that can easily be translated into a tv movie.


I’ll admit, in the first few pages I was still under this impression. But I pretty quickly realised I was barking up the wrong tree. We are introduced to the protagonist, Jenny Taylor, aka Fanny (long story) a 27 year old doctor’s surgery receptionist with a ‘history of depression.’ In order to quell said depression, her best friend, Phillipa wrote a list of ten things she ‘must do every day or she shall burn all her clothes!’ A.K.A ‘The Smiling Manifesto’

Weird start I’ll admit. At this point I was still thinking this whole thing was utterly cringey. Bit like the Spice Girls movie but in written form. But then as we are very speedily introduced to Phillipa – who gives her bizarre Friday work outfits, such as ‘Budget Airline hostess’ and ‘Yoga Teacher with Penchant for Tantric Sex’, her housemate Al – who she drunkenly met while ordering cheesy chips and beans on a night out (always a good idea) and her mother, albeit by telephone.

And with that, I was absorbed in the mad world of Fanny Taylor.

The pace of this novel was incredible, within the first few pages we are also introduced to Fanny’s very-nice-but-a-bit-dull boyfriend Matt, who met her due to one of her Smiling Manifesto tasks – ‘9) do a good deed’

Her and Phillipa decided the girl he was on a date with looked like she’d rather be elsewhere, they slipped her a note to cheer her up, he thought they’d stolen from her bag, shouting ensued. Not the most romantic meeting. After bumping into him several times, one thing let to another, turns out neither of them were as bad as they’d thought, and they became one. Oh, but Phillipa does not approve. At all.

The next thing we know, Fanny’s mum (who hardly sees her) turns up at her work, tells her that her nasty dad has had an affair and left, and dumps herself on Fanny. Only Fanny is going out for dinner with Boyfriend Matt that night. So mum is awkwardly dumped at Fanny’s flat, while Fanny goes out with Matt.

Who then proposes.

In a pod on the London Eye. Although she’s afraid of heights. And has her eyes shut. And when she opens them she voms. She says yes. But she’s vommed.

See. They’re a match made in heaven.

And then all of a sudden we meet Joe King. Yep, real name. And he is hot. If they did a remake of Love Actually he would defo be in it. Messy hair, slight muscles, funny, charming, slightly flirty, skinny jeans. So Love Actually.

And we keep meeting him. He just seems to keep appearing. And he seems so much better suited to Fanny than Matt does. Which is pretty obvious to everyone.

But Fanny has bigger things to think about. Like the fact that her mum has just got dumped and is suddenly having the life she was never allowed. She’s going slightly wild to be honest. Getting with people half her age, having mad nights out, asking for drugs, doing drugs. She does the whole getting dumped for you mate Sue thing very very well. And although her and Fan never really had a great relationship (blame the aggressive father, it always is) they start to develop a new relationship. Which is really, really endearing.

But while that relationship flourishes, her relationship with Matt is not as expected for newly engaged couples. Especially when your best friend so despises said couple.

In truth, you can’t blame her. Matt is a low-key arsehole. One of those guys who seems nice and well put together and a bit out of your league to be honest, but is actually like a scratchcard you think you’ve earnt the jackpot on. Except when you scratch away the foil surface you realise you didn’t even get the £4 booby prize.

He’s a faux nice-guy. One who will ever so condescendingly tell you that you are wrong, that his way is right and proper and correct and that, bless you, it’s nice that you’ve tried but we just don’t do that sort of thing. The sort of guy who gets embarrassed over you all the time. The one who doesn’t invite you to his work dos. We’ve all dated them and we all know they suck. And he is one of them. So you kind of can’t blame Phillipa at all for hating him. She knows.

She knows quite a lot actually. She’s the sort of friend you want to have, but also definitely want to be. And her relationship with Fanny is great. Because they’re not cool like all the romance book friendships seem to be. They don’t take themselves too seriously, and they’re super cringey and they say it how it is but it just works so well. And she gives great advice. Albeit somewhat blunt. But she’s good. They’re all great. Except Matt, who is still an areshole.

And so, the books continues you take you on a wild journey through Fanny’s life. You also meet her favourite patient, Doris, who is a wild O.A.P and full of energy, and Marge, her co-receptionist, among others. It’s a rollercoaster, that seemed way more about romance than it was. Fair enough, there is some romance, but it’s not nearly as cringey as I was expecting. It’s lovely and endearing and complicated and confusing and actually just seems pretty real. And Fanny is a flawed character. Which is so refreshing. She’s not pretentious or weirdly mysterious. She makes the sort of mistakes that we all think we know better than but we all end up making any how.

She does stupid stuff and says stupid stuff and thinks stupid stuff. And so do her friends and her mother and her other half.

And towards the end of this book I got really scared.

I haven’t mentioned yet that I started reading it at 10pm and continued until I finished at 3am. There were a lot of twists and turns towards the end and I was getting very scared that I was running out of pages and things hadn’t turned out right. A lot of the ending was very expected. But it was amazing. It made sense. It didn’t seem like it was added for shock factor or just to be different. It all make sense, and provoked a lot of ‘aha!’ moments.

And I didn’t run out of pages. The thing that you end up rooting for does happen. But it happens in a realistic way. It’s not forced, it’s not fake, it’s not cringey. It’s real. So’s the whole book.

I laughed, I cried, and I heaved a huge sigh of relief when it all came together.

And on the last page I gasped in shock.

ive hit a lul

ever played pooh sticks? where you throw sticks off a bridge into water and see which appears first on the other side? sometimes one emerges successfully, othertimes both, and sometimes the scrawnier of the sticks ends up matted in some weeds, desperately trying to catch the current but hopelessly failing? well at the moment im the weed stick and i feel like all the other sticks are floating rapidly past me.
i turned 22 yesterday. being stuck at my fucking parents’ house with a part time job is not where i thought i’d be at 22.

everything seems so stuck.

all technology i own is crashing around me, im fatter than ever and i’m skint.
mum and i are looking at buying a tearoom but i feel like it’s so far away from possibility at the moment. i need a job and money and im holding out for this to happen. i know i could make it fuckinf great if i did but for the moment im wasting time waiting. which means im not earning much. but i dont want to get a full time job and then be needed to help do this.
living at home is killing me. i desperately miss my own space. i need uninterrupted alone time and that just doesn’t happen with my family. it’s imfuriating.
everything just feels so disappointing and stagnant at the moment and im feeling a bit blue.