25 Things I Got Wrong About Turning 25

The idea for this post is taken from Sophie Heawood’s wonderful 37 Thought’s On Turning 37. I have also been writing ‘listicles’ at work so much that my thoughts now function exclusively within this format.

Through the eyes of 10 year old me, a person who was 25 really had it together. A husband, a house and a baby were all a given. I pretty much thought I’d be exactly like my mum (even though my mum had none of those things at 25 and was still being a much cooler twenty-something than I have ever been.)

Not everything has panned out exactly how I expected it to, there are a few things that 10 year old me would be pretty surprised to find out.

  1. I’m not stick thin. But that’s OK. After many years of serious scientific experimentation, I feel fairly confident that I’ve discovered the ideal cake:vegetable ratio necessary in maintaining a healthy diet. Doctors may disagree.
  2. My mum and dad haven’t yet turned into old people, which I thought by the time I was 25 they would have done. My mum is still only 35 though to be fair (don’t want her to take my birthday money back)
  3. I don’t believe in God and I won’t have a church wedding, but when my girlfriend’s mum and dad tell me that they’ll keep me in their prayers it makes my tiny heart grow three sizes and my heathen tear ducts fill with tears so maybe there’s something in it.
  4. Oh yeah, I have a girlfriend instead of a boyfriend. I love her very much, she keeps me in cake and vegetables so I can’t complain.
  5. I like coffee now! I like it enough that if you tell me it’s artisan and froth a bit of milk in it I’ll pay £3 for the pleasure of drinking it. Sorry 10 year old me, I know that’s a lot of pocket money.
  6. I don’t have my dream job. I have a job that I like, where I get to write things and someone pays me so that’s pretty good.
  7. I actually don’t even know what my dream job is, it keeps changing. I have ruled out ballerina and astronaut though.
  8. No, I’m not a vet. They would never have allowed me near animals with my lack of scientific ability and zero hand eye co-ordination.
  9. I can’t drive. Again, with the hand eye co-ordination. When I win the lottery I will buy an automatic car or a chauffeur.
  10. I haven’t won the lottery. Sometimes I play but it’s a bit dangerous with an imagination as vivid as mine because my disappointment is crushing every single time.
  11. I don’t live in London. I live in Sheffield and am developing a bit of a Yorkshire twang (thanks to a certain northern girl I think) and I love it here. Never say never though, I still love London as much always.
  12. I don’t have all my grandparents anymore. Granny’s still here though being lovely, sending money and getting shorter by the day. She gives £20 now instead of £5. I know, it’s brilliant.
  13. I went to Australia by myself and it was one of the best times of my life. I stayed with Auntie Kate and Uncle Stu who once turned up at our house in a Royal Mail van they were travelling the UK in, selling the world’s smallest kites. I shared a bed with more spiders than I’ve ever seen before.
  14. The best thing about the trip was travelling around with Suz who is still my best friend after all these years. She doesn’t steal my shells now though, she wouldn’t dare even if she is older than me.
  15. There are still mean people outside of school and in the real world, they just don’t grow up. A lot of them lurk on Comment is Free. 
  16. But I have, so I can deal with them a lot better. They are probably much more unhappy than me. 
  17. Being kind to everyone is still the best way to go but also there is nothing wrong with having a good bitch afterwards.
  18. I still don’t have a dog but I’m working on it. To be fair we live in a 10th floor flat which is not an ideal dog habitat.
  19. I don’t even have a hamster though.
  20. Not even a fish.
  21. Alcohol gets better than a sip of watermelon bacardi breezer which tastes like watered down Febreeze. Wine is delicious, not just something mum’s drink that makes you screw up your face and spit it out. Now I would never dream of spitting out any wine. Ever. We’re in a recession.
  22. I still haven’t written a novel. I haven’t written a poem in years. I have a lot of ideas though so maybe one day.
  23. Sarah is not an annoying little sister. It’s always going to be hard to let go of the time she knocked over my Sindy cafe on purpose or kicked me in the face when I was in the bath (deserved) but she’s one of the best people I know.
  24. 25 is really not that old. I don’t have wrinkles yet or anything, no, those are laughter lines.
  25. It still feels very much like the beginning, which is a very nice feeling indeed. 

The Return of Tatu – Guest post for The F – Word.

Screen Shot 2014-02-15 at 14.54.55I wrote a guest blog for The F Word about the return of Tatu at the Sochi games. I was immediately accused of queer erasure for neglecting to mention that one of the women did actually come out as bisexual so, I will mention that here instead. I don’t believe it affects the rest of the article whatsoever.

I also love Tatu and always request the megamix when I’m out even though, up until the Winter Olympics, I was only aware that they had one song.


BrewDog takes on Putin

Brewdog being Amazing

I am halfway through formulating an article about the Sochi Olympics and LGBT rights and this just popped up on my newsfeed. ‘Hello my name is Vladimir’ is Brewdog’s latest ultra-hetero, ultra not at all gay beer in honour of the Winter Olympics. It is only for people who do fishing and who horseback half naked in the wilderness, these people touching their half naked man friends in a manly way, are categorically 100% not gay. There are of course, no gay people in Sochi although they are ‘welcomed’.

This statement from Brewdog pretty much sums it up…

‘The sick, twisted legislation brought about in Russia that prevents people from living their true lives is something we didn’t want to just sit back and not have an opinion on. Our core beliefs are freedom of expression, freedom of speech and a dogged (no pun intended) passion for doing what we love. Thus, we are donating 50% of the profits from this beer to charitable organisations that support like minded individuals wishing to express themselves freely without prejudice.’

You can read more about it on BrewDog’s blog here: http://www.brewdog.com/blog-article/hello-my-name-is-vladimir

The Archer Project and CAP Day

Screen Shot 2014-02-04 at 10.57.41I wrote about The Archer Project a charity which provides help for homeless people, in http://www.chiclifestylemagazine.co.uk before Christmas after visiting them and seeing what fantastic work they do. Gavin, one of my favourite customers of all time from when I worked at QCs Bagel Bar (is he a customer if he just eats free sugar?) has been supported greatly by this team along with countless others. It’s CAP day on Friday so I’m trying to decide what I can do to raise some money and awareness (no, not running). Even if it’s just taking 5 minutes to login to Justgiving and donate some money which is more than likely what I’ll end up doing, then it’s worthwhile so please, please take the time too, it will keep someone warm, fed, clothed and in a place that offers great opportunities, advice and care.


Flash Fiction: The Minibus.

‘How is it fair that there’s a women’s minibus and not a men’s minibus?’

‘What, so all the women can just get home for free, and we have to walk? That’s fucking discrimination!’

‘That’s literally so sexist’.

I look out of the window at the group of lads outside. They’re a bit cold, a bit drunk and a lot lairy. I feel safe within the confines of the women’s minibus, perched up here on my sexist seat of discrimination; heels kicked off, eyes blurry from the cheap vodka and mixer, dress pulled down lower than it was earlier because I’d stopped bothering to hoist it up.

I think of the walk home, it takes half an hour. I walk it every day. Every day. But every night the shadows appear and although I tell myself that there’s nothing there, what if there was and I was there too?

Wrong place. Wrong time. And they’d all shake their heads sadly.

The monsters are rare but they’re real and they want us and not you. That’s why we get our own minibus, because you got the streets.

This is an entry for the FEMFLASH 2013 writing competition from Mookychick Online. Enter now.