The Reality of Room Mates

When I started uni I was given so so much advice about Fresher's week and about what to expect in my first year. Everyone had something to tell me and I had plenty of student aimed 'I-work-for-the-government-but-I'm-totally-down-with-the-kids' style leaflets with advice like 'name your house plant Boris' (seriously). Granted those first few weeks were daunting in many ways, and I valued the advice I was given, although I never actually bought a house plant. I bought a lot of other rubbish, remote control flying eagles and a hamster for instance, but no Boris.
One  thing that I wasn't given guidelines was how, who with and where to live next. All at the same time it can seem like a HUGE decision or a tiny thing you don't pay much mind to. To me I didn't think it was such a  big deal. I loved all my new friends so I wasn't fussed, although I wanted to take my new best friend with me that wasn't a question. In hind-sight I should probably of thought a little harder about it. But there we go there isn't much point regretting these things now. I actually really enjoyed 2nd year and living a beautiful big flat in Lauriston with 4 girls, for the most part. That other part was heart braking and pretty soul destroying at times. Girls can be cruel.
I think some of the problem is we watch TV shows like Friends and think that when we get our own flat it'll be like the opening scene montage, purple walls, everyone laughing and hugging and jumping around having hilarous moments. Yes some bits will be like that! We had many days/nights of ridiculousness and lots of laughs. On the other hand, it doesn't matter how many tea lights you buy, how many cushions from poundland, or posters you put up, more than likely your flat won't be beautiful and problem free, and neither will your flatmates. The bit you won't think about when you're getting ready to move in is eugh that one hasn't done their washing up again, oh but I cant be bothered doing mine, what the hell I just cleaned the kitchen and her friends messed it up, I want to sleep but someone just came in hammered and woke me up, so and so said this about me, so and so did this, and I swear to God if I see ONE MORE BITCHY POST IT NOTE on the fridge...and so on. That's the daily grind of it all. If your lucky you won't have that all the time, but it will happen. Even the happiest bunch of flatmates I know (a 6 bed of 4 boys and 2 girls) have their moments.
Even thinking back over the worst times I've had living with room-mates I don't think I'd change anything. The biggest thing I've learnt whilst living with friends at uni has been to simply chill out. Not everything has to be the biggest deal in the world, and the little annoyances are just that, little.  I wish I hadn't let those things bog me down as much as I did way back when, I imagine the fall out would of happened regardless but I might of felt differently about it. I live with two boys now so the little things are very different to what they used to be when I was with girls, and aside from our inability to afford heating and the occasional appearance of Mighty Mouse I'm very happy. Having said that, I did miss having girls around until Mia was back! 

The Runaway Child

Pretty much everyone has a story of when they ran away from home. One of my friends made it all the way to the end of the street with a loaf of bread and a pair of pants, my own run away mission was not even that successful. I made it to the back garden with a scarf full of socks, which I vividly remember trying to tie onto the end of a toy golf club since I didn’t have a stick to hand. Then I hid under a hedge until I was cold enough to go back inside. In my mind, my Mum would have been feeling so bad for telling me off in the first place she’d probably learnt her lesson by now, but honestly I can’t remember what it was I’d been told off for that led me to this drastic action.

It didn’t quite go to plan. Nobody had noticed I was gone, mostly because I’d been gone ten minutes, max. What’s more, my genius plan to climb out of the kitchen window somewhat backfired. In my hurried departure, I’d pushed a chair up to the kitchen window, climbed up and over the window sill and taken a plunge about twice my height into the garden. Which now, looking up at the window from the other side with was impossible to climb back up. I made the decision to go round to the front of the house, knock on the door and wait patiently to make my speech. It was something along the lines of “yes Mum I ran away but it was for your own good, you needed to know how sorry you’d be if I was gone, but I’m back now so you can stop your crying, I forgive you.” (I still practice important ‘speeches’ to this day – awkward revelation). It has to be said, she hid her pain extremely well. She didn’t ask me where I’d been or why I was locked out of the house, or even ask about my sad little scarf of socks. My theory is she was in shock. It was absolutely not because she’d been watching my great escape to the hedge and back again from the window. Solid parenting advice to my future self, tantrums don’t really work when you smile in the face of them.

- A slightly random post but I just had a flash back and giggled to myself at how hopelessly ridiculous I was as a kid, well I say 'as a kid', I still am hopelessly ridiculous in my own way. I used to cry in front of the mirror to check I was still cute enough to make people feel sorry for me.That's awkward revelation number 2. Why do I do this to myself? Anyway sweet dreams all. I'm not setting an alarm as I made the mistake of asking a friend to wake me in the morning, she's a 9 til 5 girl, this will not be pleasant. 

Let Them Eat (Christmas) Cake

It is officially my favourite time of year and (if we set aside the ever building family drama and the fact that I have no money for presents) all is well with the world. Very soon I will be driving home for Christmas with my wonderful man/partner/boyf/boy (I'm still deciding on what he should be referred to - ‘Partner’ drives him mad, so obviously it’s more tempting to use.)  It’s actually embarrassing how long I was looking forward to being able to do Christmas blog posts, but now the time has arrived I feel totally unprepared and as usual, I have little to no time to actually write anything!

Anyway, enough moaning about 4^th year. Christmas is coming! And what does that mean? It means advent calandars, Christmas songs, trees, baubles, tinsel, stockings (all of which my super star mum is waiting for my sister and I’s return to put up – bless her!), actually seeing my family and friends, snow in Yorkshire, and the food. Oh the food. So much food. 

 So. Much. Food.

I’ll start there then, specifically, Christmas cake. You can tell all I’ve eaten today is crisps. We’ve seen some absolute beauties in my house over the years from the Grandma’s, my Auntie and my Mum. One that really sticks out for me was my Mum’s creation. A standard white round Christmas cake, but on top were the cutest little clusters of marzipan presents you’ve ever seen. All of them were red and green with bows in alternate colours. I can’t imagine how much time it took making ribbon for all those little presents. And I can’t imagine the inner horror when my cousin Ben ate half the presents off the cake before anyone else even got to see it! True story, and it reminds me of one of my all-time favourite posts at Hyperbole and a Half which I seriously suggest you have a look at for a giggle.

So here’s to cake and to Christmas. If you are a regular you can expect a few more holiday posts over the next few weeks, I’ve got oodles of love for baubles which should make an appearance.

 

Red gingerbread man cake - From cakecentral.com, Xmas cake with holly and red ribbon - From google.ie, Ruffle white with trees - From iammommy.typepad.com, Big bow and robins xmas cake - http://www.bbc.co.uk/food/, Christmas tree cake - From familyfun.go.com, Snowman cake pops - From grinandbakeit.com

High School Chuffing Musical

Yeah I said it! High. School. Musical.

This post comes under my blog aim of writing posts about "things that give me a warm and fuzzy feeling". And yes, just as most people roll their eyes at just how much a silly little girl I still am I am perfectly aware it's hardly a classic of our time.
Although in my humble and not remotely professional opinion, some of the songs are catchy, uplifting and just plain fun. And you can't knock that! Sorry you just can't!

It was 'Stick to the status quo' which inspired this blog post after it shuffled onto a male friend's (who shall remain nameless for the time being) iTunes - one of his proudest moments I'm sure. But it's OK, he only likes it because "it's a song about how fat people aren't allowed to hang out with the cool kids". Isn't he charming? Eugh.

Anyway moving swiftly on; why do I love like it?
It's the memories of course - plus maybe a little bit of admiration for the beautiful Zac Effron).

• I remember watching it first with 5 of my very best old girl friends when we were only 17.
• I remember the boys on a group trip to Scotland charging up the stairs in a panic when they heard us screaming -  we were screaming at the TV as Zac Effron pranced along to 'Bet On It' and chanting 'OFF OFF OFF'. We'd seen the film who knows how many times but still thought he'd have a change of heart and start stripping if we shouted loud enough.
• Years later on a vodka fuelled Sunday in Edinburgh I remember drunk calling my best friend Jess AKA 'Zac's No 1 fan' when 'We Can Work This Out' was playing (another unfortunate shuffle incident) and two guy friends in the room (Ryan and Collins - since I doubt either of them will read this I'll risk naming and shaming) began a wonderful dance and sing along, they definitely knew both the words and moves to perfection.

So yeah, when the cheesy, down right rubbish in some cases songs pop along every now then I'm filled with an abundance of warm fuzzy feelings and hilarious memories. I love it. 

There, I said it.