I'm just saying, you could do better. Tell me, have you heard that lately?

I know I have a huge paragraph down the side of my blog listing everything I love but my brilliant friend, Raychel, has inspired me to be a bit of a loser and write a more detailed paragraph (or two), because I'm about to take a step towards probably the biggest adventure of my life. I'd like to be able to look back on this when I'm 80 and think "shit, I was actually a massive idiot when I was 18." so just go with it...

I like it when people compliment my handwriting. I hate the smell of ketchup. I have a huge fear of being dirty; I don't like getting dust over me and I especially don't like it when children wipe stuff (usually mud, jam or melted chocolate) over me. I've always had a fear of saliva. I like to reflect on things. I pretend I'm an emotionless bitch but I'm actually quite sensitive. I like the feeling of a hangover but will moan about it for days afterwards. I'm a hopeless romantic. My favourite film at the moment is Pretty Woman. My nails always have to be painted. I like Drake's lyrics. I have this strange habit of phoning people and singing random songs down the phone when I've had too much sugar. I like it when people phone me and sing down the phone. I can rap every single lyric of 'Superbass'. I've been saying I'm going to write a book this year but I have no motivation to even write my name recently. I re-read text messages all the time. I have a book where I write every nice thing somebody says about me. My room is always a mess. My gerbil is like my baby, but he hates me. I'm obsessed with pugs and crimped hair. I don't like Madonna. I think David Bowie is over-rated. I give out my details to random strangers when I'm drunk and get the shock of my life when they add me on Facebook. Over the past 3 weeks, I've met one person who has completely changed my world inside out; they don't even realise it. I got told I'm too good for somebody the other day. I don't think I am. Everything looks prettier in the sunshine. I'm ashamed to admit it but I get bored of the Beatles if I listen to them for too long. David Nicholls is my favourite writer at the moment. I'm awful with money and I can't save anything. I don't understand people at all. I like evenings spent hanging out in my friend's bedroom, eating her Mum's amazing roast potatoes and talking about orgasms. I'm a bit of a snob when it comes to certain things, but I can act like I'm in Shameless at the drop of a hat. It scares me when I don't talk to certain people for more than 2 days. I have to write in black ink; my handwriting looks messy in any other colour. I'm going to start sending people little 'thank you' cards randomly, because I don't think I express just how grateful I am to have them in my life sometimes. I never realised how much I depend on my I.D now that I'm 18. I turn 19 in 3 weeks and I really don't want too. I spend way too much time on Eastbourne - London Victoria trains. I'm allergic to alcohol but fuck it if I'm going to stop drinking it. I like smoking and drinking awful cider at posh gigs. I spend way too much time obsessing over how the future is going to turn out. I'm constantly missing something/someone. I have to go and get ready to take this big step...wish me luck x

Carrie Bradshaw just gets *it*.

Facts #6

I'm currently working a 40 hour week and I'm not being paid a thing; it's probably one of the most rewarding things I've ever done. I'm obsessed with my Pulp Fiction jumper and print leggings. I can't stand not having my nails painted. I think I've met somebody who has the potential to keep me living in this town...maybe. Until last night, I hadn't touched alcohol in 16 days; that's the longest I've been without alcohol in a year. Desperately wanting a pug and forever crimped hair. My best friends are back from University for a month and I couldn't be happier. The sunshine makes me so happy. Macaroni and cheese is my new food obsession. I'm going to see Alanis Morissette live in June and I'm currently obsessed with this song:

5-a-Day

This morning, one of my close friends tagged me in this photo on Facebook. It's a list of an alternative five-a-day on a crisp packet. The things they'll put on food to make it more interesting, right?
Besides giving me a deep rooted craving for Monster Munch, it also gave me something to think about for the majority of the day. According to the crisp packet, 5 things that'll without a doubt keep your spirits high are:
- A good strong cup of coffee
- A bit of battered cod
- A snooze after lunch
- A decent pint
- A bag of proper English crisps.
Forget 5 portions of fruit and veg a day, we're not rabbits. I'm all for embracing this alternative five a day. Like I said though, it's been playing on my mind all day, purely because I've been wondering if 5 simple things have the ability to keep my spirits high, 24/7.
I have issues with the list the crisp packet suggests because:
a) I'm not a huge fan of coffee
b) Battered cod is definitely not what I consider 'comfort food'
c) Snoozing after lunch would make it very awkward at work...
d) A pint a day would make us all very gas-y and that's not pretty.
e) I have no issue with the crisps. I agree that crisps are quite good.

While that list works for every English man who lives by the sea and has a penchant for real ale, it doesn't sit comfortably with me.
In my world, my 5-a-day would run like this:
- An orgasm, AT LEAST once a day.
- A fishfinger sandwich, with plastic cheese and ketchup.
- 3 bottles of Mixed Fruit OR Strawberry & Lime Koppaberg
- 60 minutes of laughing AND girl talk with my favourite girls
- A nice walk along the beach

If my list was made accessible to pretty much every single person on the planet, I'm 109% certain that the world would be a much happier place...

What would you say are your 5-a-days, if you have one? Tell me, tell me, tell me!
xx

Unsent

Ever since I was about 14, I've had my elderly years set in stone; I'm going to live in a bungalow, which is going to be decorated like it's never left the 60s - with floral carpets, floral wallpaper and big comfy (floral) armchairs -, with a vegetable patch that'll grow only weeds, a cupboard filled to the brim with expensive alcohol and a room dedicated to writing. There'll be a typewriter, piles of notebooks scattered around the floor and the walls will be filled with books. I'll have a pen collection that I'll never use and I'll have a hallway covered in picture frames, that will house my published writing. 
It's silly but that's going to be my oasis. Laugh all you want but just know that it's going to happen.


What's funny is that whenever I picture that setting, I always picture myself alone. I'll have cats - obviously - but no husband/partner beside me. The freezers will be stacked with ready meals for one, I'll have one single shot glass in the cupboard for when I'm feeling crazy and there'll be one toothbrush by the sink. While this should probably make me want to send off a Lonely Hearts ad at this very moment, in an attempt to prevent this horror from happening, it just makes me smile. If this should be the case, I'm content in knowing that I'll have plenty of memories to keep me warm at night.
See, I may only be 18 but already I've had 'relationships' with people who have really turned my world upside down. And I know, that by the time I'm 70 and in that crazy bungalow, I'll have met so many more people who have shaken everything up so much so that it's impossible to go back to how life was without them in it.


I know this because Alanis Morissette says so. Ok, so she hasn't blatantly told me this but I knew she would if she could. 
However, she has sung about it. In her song 'Unsent', she talks to the people who have had the biggest effect on her life and says everything she felt she couldn't say about the relationship while she was in it. She specifically talks to ex-boyfriends/people she's had romantic entanglements with because she said that it gave her the closure which she needed to move on. She still has the memories but the bitterness has disappeared and she's free to carry on with her life, taking nothing but happiness and wisdom and knowledge from these relationships. She's in her crazy bungalow, writing this song and when I first heard it, I knew she also had her single shot glass by her side.
The question I ask myself every time I hear 'Unsent' is this: how am I expected to imagine somebody stood next to me in that bungalow, with their toothbrush next to mine, if I don't know who to imagine? 
I haven't received the closure from previous relationships (I use this term lightly as I'm also talking about friendships and non-sexual relationships, as well as sexual relationships) that allows me to move on and picture somebody completely new, putting a second shot glass next to mine in the cupboard.


So here's my 'Unsent': 


Dear Ashley, we never should have let things get as far as they did. I was young and you felt trapped. You gave me my first taste of what it was like to feel loved by somebody who didn't have to love me and I hope you finally learn how to breathe easy. 


Dear Paul , what happened that night should never have happened and it should never have been repeated either. However, I'm thankful that we both finally grew up enough to understand why it did happen and that we're able to smile about it now. 


Dear Leigh, we both should have been more sensible when it came to our friendship. I should never have been so selfish and you should never have been so confident. It's such a shame how things have ended and even though it's still quite raw at the moment, I'll always want 'nothing but butterflies' for you.

Dear John, remember that time we sat in your car on the beach and you told me every single light hanging between the lamp-posts was for me? On good days, I can't get your smile out of my mind. On bad days, I can't stop thinking about how I made you cry. I mess things up because nothing will ever be as good as it was with you. Our story still has millions of pages left before the end is even in sight. Right now, you're the person I want to be the owner of that second shot glass.

Dear Chris, I like you a lot. You're nothing but supportive, honest and encouraging. Your friendship is one that words can't even explain and attempting to articulate how thankful I am for your presence would be a silly idea as I don't have a clue where to begin. I wish you could see just how other's see you. You've made me believe that you don't need wings to fly.

Dear Sam, you have so much potential to do such amazing things but you insist on wasting it away in this tiny little town. I've never understood the way your brain works and there was a time where I'd have walked on burning coals for you. Our differences have always outweighed our similarities and I've just stopped fooling myself into thinking we'd be the perfect match. I'll always tell you when you're being an idiot and in turn, you better put that crazy brain of your's to good use. You're so much better than you believe.

Dear Lou, you taught me so much. You were my summer romance that spiralled out of control and I'll always remember the way your face looked under the moonlight when we used to lay under the stars. You're the reason I hate emotion and the soft side to a physical relationship but you're also the reason I love Bright Eyes and sofa beds. Your stupidity overtakes your passion at the moment, I hope that changes.

(I'm not going to send this out to individual people and I have changed every single name, purely because this it far too personal for my liking. Obviously the list of people who have had an effect on my life is ongoing but the people listed in this blog are all the people I have something to say to right now, at this current moment. I realise this is quite selfish of me and I'm doing this for a purely self beneficial reason but I figured Alanis knew what she was doing when she wrote her 'Unsent' and this is me, taking a stab in the dark, and guessing that this is what I'm supposed to be doing.)

Nothing but butterflies.

I'm about to write something which will come of no surprise to any of you reading this but bare with me. Sometimes, relationships/friendships/sexual arrangements end.

I don't mean to be depressing but we all know that these things rarely last forever. Obviously there are exceptions; the couple I see everyday, walking their dog, that have been together for 72 years, the friendship between Carrie, Samantha, Charlotte and Miranda and the unconditional love between parent and child.

Right now though, I'm talking about the disintegration that can happen with relationships and sexual arrangements. Relationship breakdown is probably the reason Ben & Jerry's has become so popular and Adele has a lot of heartbroken girls (I'm being stereotypical here) to thank for her album sales. In my opinion, whether you're in a 4 year relationship or just having sex on a Thursday night when there's nothing to watch on television, the breakdown of the situation is still going to be distressing. You let your heart get involved, of course there are going to be tears.

The minute you stop thinking you'd tread water forever for the person you're in a relationship with, you have two choices:

a) you put on your arm bands, work really bloody hard at staying afloat and hope that things get better.

b) or you make a decision to end things there and then.

I'm a big fan of A. Mainly because I don't like admitting defeat but also because I don't like things ending. I cried when e4 announced they'd no longer be broadcasting Gilmore Girls everyday and when Creme Eggs stop being sold after Easter, I'm an emotional wreck for weeks.

Saying that, I wish I had the balls to choose option B. I have a lot of respect for people who can walk away from something the minute things turn a bit shit because I think it takes guts and huge amounts of courage to be that abrupt.

There are obviously negatives to both options (heartbreak, emotional breakdowns, stress etc) but if something isn't meant to be, you can't force it. You move on, find somebody else to fuck and (hopefully) have mind blowing orgasms until you're back to square one and crying over the fact it's becoming more and more apparent you're going to die alone in a huge house overrun with cats and empty vodka bottles.

In the past few weeks, I've seen the breakdown of a friendship, a sexual arrangement and a (kind of) relationship. But I'm refusing to be bitter. I wish nothing but happiness to all 3 of those people and I hope that, within time, they find exactly what it is they're looking for. Sure, it upsets me that I'm not capable of possessing every single quality that they're looking for within a person but it also encourages me to find people who can happily accept me for me. Flaws included.

When I say I refuse to be bitter, I don't mean I'm going to stop listening to Adele's album, eating ridiculous amounts of chocolate cake and complaining to my friends about the situation. But between all of that, I'm also smiling because I shared some amazing memories with those people, laughing because of private jokes between us and getting hot under the collar when I think of certain *events* that took place under the privacy of bedrooms (or in the publicity of outdoor locations...oops).

I'm not casting voodoo spells or praying that these people accidentally get hit by something that could potentially cause them facial damage. Of course I'm secretly hoping that they might get contract cold sores overnight or something that doesn't cause them any long term damage, but I'm trying my very best to remain dignified.

Because in the end, all you can really ask of them is that they wish the best for you. Of course, it has to be mutual. You hope that they eventually find whatever it was that you couldn't give them and in turn, they wish that you find the relationship you've been searching for. You know the one: it includes the apartment overlooking Tower Bridge, the really hot sex you can never have too much of and a record collection that fills one room.

In the words of Carrie Bradshaw "never settle for anything less than butterflies."

So that's what you do. You wish nothing but butterflies for each other.

"They are better than the penis."

VagJJ, peach, lala, nooni, nunki, fendango, sideways smile, c*nt, bearded clam, coochie, muffin, fairy, whispering eye...there are so many pet names for the vagina yet it still remains a mystery.to most. Sure, we can reel off 30 nicknames for it in under a minute but when it comes to answering questions like "is it true that the vagina can 're-virginise' itself if you don't have sex for a long time?", we appear to be completely stumped.

I don't normally spend my days confused about the vagina but after a conversation concerning lady bits with two of my best friends, we came to the conclusion that nobody really knows enough about the vagina and if they do, they sure ain't as hell letting anybody else in on anything. It's an important part of a woman's body but we're so quick to make silly mistakes with it when surely, we should be doing nothing but looking after our vagjj? I don't mean in the sense that we should all wrap our peach up in cotton wool but we really should be more clued up on all things vagina.

Questions like "is my vagina normal?", "will it stretch if a guy is too big?" and the ol' classic "should I shave or not?" are all questions that enter a girl's head at some stage in her life. It's inevitable to feel a bit insecure about a part of the body that we have little access too. Because, let's face it, unless you watch a lot of porn (and even then, this is completely unrealistic), spend your weekends playing 'show and tell' with your girlfriends or you actually watch shows like 'The Joys of Teen Sex' outside of a Sex Education class, you're not really going to see other vaginas.
Try to have a conversation about your vagina and I guarantee you, you'll be cringing within 5 minutes. It seems so socially unacceptable for us women to discuss our lady parts but yet, just the other day, I was forced to listen to two guys chatting about their 'love truncheons' at a high volume on the bus. I have no problem with this type of conversation; after all, a problem shared is a problem halved. But what I do have a problem with is how it's okay for chaps to discuss their 'Mr Tickles' all they want, but God forbid a women asking a friend what the deal is when it comes to shaving.

"I can honestly say I'd rather jump in shark-infested waters naked than talk to my mum about this particular subject." - Grace

When it comes to vagina discovery, it seems that we're completely alone in the situation. Unless you're lucky enough to have a really close best friend/group of friends, everything is a one woman job and boy, can that be hard. If you're like me and you'd rather run naked across Tower Bridge than ask your Mum about your vagjj, this discovery really does feel like you're climbing Mount Kilimanjaro. There are so many steps to reaching the title of 'Vagina Expert' and there's no-one there to help you take these steps. The only solution is to grab a mirror, sit down and stare at your peach until you know your vagina like the back of your hand. It's a Thursday night, what else have you got to do?

The big issue I really struggled with was whether I was 'normal' 'down there'. I'm not being funny, but the minute you type 'is my vagina normal?' into Google, you're asking for trouble. I've read so many myths about the size of the clitoris* ("I saw one that was the size of my ring finger!") that I could probably write a book entitled "Lies of the Clitoris" with ease. The conclusion I came too was "fuck it. We only get one vagina, if it's weird then there's not much I can do about it now. Let's blame my parents."
Life is too short to spend worrying over the size of your vagina. Sure, there's surgery to 'correct' it, but seriously, it's for you, your GP and your partner. Unless you really are prepared to run across Tower Bridge naked, why does it matter whether your vagjj is normal?!

I've always been funny about body hair (left without waxing strips or a razor, I really do look like an extra in Planet of the Apes), so I've always worried about what to do with pubic hair. Again, I couldn't really ask my Mum over a roast dinner "Mum, how to do shave *down there*?", so stupidly, I took to Google. You would have thought I'd have learnt my lesson. Never in my life do I want to see what I saw that day. Trust me when I say (or go to Google yourself) that literally anything goes. One woman had a thick line of hair that resembles Hitler's moustache and another had a love heart. I knew then that that was my cue to stop worrying.

In a world where porn is so accessible, it's also probably helpful if I just say this: ONLY PORN STARS SHOULD HAVE PORN STAR VAGINAS. Your's doesn't have to look like it's about to star in 'Titty Woman' so just embrace what you've got.
As much as it pains me to say this, as the idea of childbirth is enough to make me want to grab a needle and thread and sew myself up, there's going to come a day (maybe) when a baby is going to come out of your vagina. And that day will be the happiest day of your life. You'll thank God that you were blessed your fendango, regardless of whether you've shaved or not.

So this is my plea to every single woman who reads this: don't be ashamed to talk about your peach. It's actually a beautiful thing (not literally because let's face it, they're ugly!) and we shouldn't ever feel like we have to censor ourselves. If you have a question, ask a friend and please, don't resort to Google. Your eyes will never be the same again.
I've asked so many people what they think about their vagina, in order to write this blog with a little bit of knowledge and so many people have turned around and said "I've never actually had a conversation about it."  My question is - why not?
Get your friends together, grab a bottle of wine and get discussing your vaginas because as the title says, they're easily the winner of all things genitals.

*In reality, the clitoris should range from 1 to 1¼ inches (including the hood)

P.S in the meantime, if your friends are busy or you genuinely don't have any, look here for any answers you might need: vagina facts - so helpful.