GRL PWR

First things first: shout out to best friends who spend their entire weekend rolling around like a fat shit with you when life gets too much, who help you eat through more than 6,000 daily calories completely devoid of judgement, who spoon you in the middle of the night without even realising it and, most importantly, who stand behind you in every decision you make even if it involves being dragged around hobbycraft looking for plaster of paris because you've decided you want to make hand sculptures (don't ask - it's been a weird weekend). Laughter really is the best medicine and between the tears and mini mental breakdowns, Lydia - you've been a shining beacon of light, laughter, atrocious smells and questionable fashion choices. I would be a lot thinner without you, but also miserable as fuck. 💛 you a LOT. 

grateful heart #1

I don't even know where to start with this post so I'll just go from the beginning (but keep it as short as poss, don't worry huns - i got u).

So, I've been doing a LOT of self-help reading recently and as part of my attempted ascent to the Positive Vibes Only Zone I decided to start a gratitude journal. With no expectations whatsoever and, to be quite honest, a feeling that gratitude journalling was a bit of wanky exercise to undertake; I assumed I'd give it up in a few days, relegate the notebook back to bottom-drawer status, and return to instastalking instead. Like, who tf sits down and spends precious time writing down that they're grateful for Zac Efron's face anyway?! (...)

a pretty wonderful wednesday

There are a million reasons why I love the shit out of my mum, but by far the most important one is that she can always be relied upon to pour a very large glass of wine at the end of a long day (or a short day for that matter because whatever the question, fermented grapes are probably the answer). It's a de-stressing reflex action that I have enthusiastically enjoyed with her on numerous occasions over the years and one for which she deserves the utmost credit. For real, I have struggled to find another human who embodies the ideology of "wine not?" quite so effortlessly and wholeheartedly as she. If I ever doubt for a second that I'm my mother's daughter, a quick peek in the fridge on a Monday Friday night brings it right back in all its pinot-y, sauvignon blanc-y, glory.