Four consecutive ‘top tweets’ in possibly the worst trending hashtag of all time. I’d normally blur out the names of people, but I honestly don’t think this bunch of ignorant fuckwads deserve it.
alicexi just came into my room and gave me a Fruit Pastille and now everything is ok
The best part about having a sidecut / undercut is that I get to be proud of my regrowth on the floofy part of my hair and hide the balder bits where it’s cut a lot shorter. 10/10, would recommend.
I am not destroyed or fragile, not dulled or dwelling but enhanced, brightened and living, and I am wonderful.
I found my massive green necklace and you know what this means
it’s time to swagger down the cold meats aisle of Co-op and feel like Pirate of the Year
it means nothing else, that is all it means
Reblog if you’re this really common and obvious thing because I’m trying to prove a point to this textbook villain I know and am definitely not trying to gain notes and followers
It’s so cold that I am wearing the heated gloves that Esme bought me. Great birthday present, 10/10, would recommend.
I just ran into my first year flatmate and we spent an hour talking and it reminded me of the times in first year when we would sit in the kitchen and talk about Doctor Who until 6am. I have the biggest friend crush on him. I want to platonically marry him.
There’s so many people I’ll miss when I leave who I hardly ever see, acquaintances who are sort of the stitches in the fabric of my university life, and there’s only 2 weeks left. Great.
A day of trying on the palest foundations in every range in Boots has led to my arm looking like I am in an abusive relationship. I am not happy about this (but probably happier than I would be if I were actually in an abusive relationship)
Mim decided to help me pack my books. Or she didn’t. Either one.
The two books that you can see here are ‘The Democratic Genre’ by Sheenagh Pugh, which is a theory text on fanfiction, and ‘The Liar’ by Stephen Fry. Sums it all up, really.
My mum decided to play with Mim but Mim was like ‘there is only room for one person with a three letter palindromic name and / or title ending and beginning with M’ and wasn’t having any of it.
Not everything that I’m finding in my cathartic ‘Sort Out the Hoarded Shit Bought in a Pique of Hypomania’ (I need a catchier title for this phase in my life) is upsetting and awful or hilarious. I have found this fan that I bought at the Fashion Museum in Bath and it’s brought back good memories.
That day, my sister, my mum and I took a park and ride to Bath city centre and it was a sweltering hot day so we went to the park and looked at all the amazingly big houses, and then we went to the Jane Austen museum and we signed each other up for the mailing list as a joke and now none of us can unsubscribe and we keep getting really poorly put together e-mail updates on the upkeep of this museum in Bath that we’ll never go to again.
It’s just reassuring to think that I do have good memories that didn’t happen at university, so the end of university doesn’t necessarily mean the end of everything, if that makes sense.
Ho hum. My mum should be here soon to take some stuff back home. I have hidden the gay erotica.