Food for thought #19 (V-Day for Dummies)

Valentine’s Day: you can’t avoid it. Wherever you go— to your local supermarket or favourite coffee shop or, heck, even to the Uber eats website— you’re bombarded with love hearts, frills, and 2-for-1 offers.

I’ll leave the frills, thanks… but, by all means, give me the RUBBEDRAW4VDAY discount for Lovehoney.

If, like me, you’ve spent most of your Valentine’s Days replacing the V for G(etting hammered with your pals and ending the night with a hot bath and a trusty wank over McDreamy), you’re probably familiar with the concept of “bros before hoes”. Chicks before dicks. Fannies before mannies. And, my all-time favourite, thongs before dongs.

Yes, well-spotted: each of these expressions is referring to Girl Code, as in, the unspoken “code” between women that your friends come before any possible suitor (men having something similar called Bro Code that involves regularly trying to touch one another’s crotches but never sharing the same bed at a sleepover…very strange).

Affiliated with Girl Code is Galentine’s Day (and it’s gender-neutral term Palentine’s Day), a fairly new concept, heralded by the single pringles in spite of those who are already mid-mingle. Mingle, what an awful word. Whoever woke up one day and decided that “mingle” would become synonymous for “I’m ready to be penetrated”?! Awful, just plain awful.

Anyway, for someone who has proudly donned the Galentine’s Day sash for many, many moons, I’m vaguely aware that, this year, I must exchange my glorious sash for a new and shiny badge… an “I’m in a relationship and must, therefore, play along with this unimaginative, consumer-driven and totally arbitrary, manipulative and shallow tradition that contributes to capitalist gain” badge. Otherwise known as “Sorry, gals, I’m busy”.

Fortunately, I don’t feel as guilty* about doing this as I probably would’ve been, had the government rules allowed us to do anything but staying in and ordering a takeout (albeit with candles and a nice dessert afterwards!).

National lockdown, as frustrating (and necessary!) as it is, means that I can switch the single sash for the “I have a boyfriend” badge and pick my partner over my pals without so much as a “we’ll do the Zoom quiz next week— promise!”.

*One shouldn’t feel guilty for putting their relationship before their friendships, at least not all the time, I’ve just never been one of “those girls” #PerpetuallySingleByChoice

SO, with this new concept of February 14th in mind, I set out to educate myself on what “typical couples” do on the Day of Love.

Romantic™ bike rides along the canal, then a couple’s pottery class followed by eating spaghetti Lady & The Tramp style at a fancy-schmancy restaurant, before ending the night bathing in rose petals and watching Casablanca on Amazon Prime?

Sorry, babe, not for me.

…

Well, maybe the bath.

…

Actually, scrap that, how about you just deliver the pasta to me in the bath and make yourself scarce? You can choose what film we watch tonight?

…

See.

Compromise.

SO, if, like me, 2020 was the year of a personality transplant and you suddenly find yourself in a relationship or you can’t quite shake your holidate or, heck, you’re popping your glorious sash-donning cherry, this blog post is for you!

Topics include, but are not limited to: McDreamy, good vibes, V-day pie charts, and Things that Make Me Moist.

Food for thought #18 (“New Year, Slightly Improved Me”: My Five Commandments of 2021)

New Year’s resolutions can get tae fuck.

Let’s be honest, January should just be a total write-off, a test-run, the month that’s eligible for a refund (no receipt needed!).

CUT TO December 31st 2020. Time: 23:59. Song queued on Spotify: Auld Lang Syne.

The clock strikes midnight and, like Cinderella legging it from the ball, we swear to ourselves that we’ll work out more or cut down the calories or, heck, make positive affirmations part of our New Year routine. We endeavor to work harder and save more, work less and play more, work x and do y.

We even sign up for “Dry January”… until it’s January 7th and you’re in Lockdown 3.0 and the only fun thing to do is toast the New Day with a Buck’s Fizz and some eggy bread.

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‘Hey, at least we’re getting a New Year!’, some people say (albeit believers in an alien apocalypse!). HOWEVER, I suppose there is some truth to this comment: we are lucky! After the 2020 we had, we’re incredibly lucky to be standing. To be alive. To have not had our faith, our spirit, our life, extinguished by Covid-19.

This blog post isn’t intended to dwell on the year we’ve had– a year of incredible hardship and sorrow– more so to celebrate the promises of the New Year; this, unfortunately, can’t be done without at least an acknowledgement, a tilting of the cap, to 2020.

SO, with that borne in mind…

New Year’s resolutions are so last year!

Instead, I’m doing New Year’s commandments because ya gal needs to get herself into some sort of routine and command some order. Continue reading for My Five Commandments of 2021.

Topics include, but are not limited to: anxiety sweats, indulging oneself, FoodTok, and Things to be Mindful About.

Food for thought #17 (Grinching it up 2.0: Ding Dong the Grinch is Dead)

‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even a— BLOODY HELL WHO CAME IN STEAMING AND TURNED OFF THE OVEN?!? DAD WAS SLOW-COOKING THE MEAT AND NOW CHRISTMAS IS RUINED!!!

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Last Christmas (nope, not the Wham! song… unfortunately), I was complaining about festive music being played in November and people shortening “decorations” to “decs”. Heck, I even blogged about it.

This time last year, I was tired and miserable, powering through fourth year assignments and working a retail job during the festive period.

If anyone even uttered the words “crack a smile” in my vicinity, I was prepared to shove a bauble where the sun don’t shine. It was BAD.

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It got so bad that I’d started mixing up “bah humbug” with familiar phrases in my life.

In uni, ‘This book that I’m reading for my dissertation’ soon became ‘This bah humbug that I’m reading…’ and a sure way to get your lecturers asking if you were a wee bit stressed and needed an extension (hey, the more you know). In work, ‘Would you like a bag with that’ became ‘Would you like a bah humbug with that’. In the bedroom, ‘I’m going to…’— ah, you see where I’m going with this…

This time last year, I was a certified Grinch™. HOWEVER, this year, having graduated in the summer and lived through a bloody pandemic, it seems that I’ve had a complete personality transplant.

No longer do I grumble at carol singers or frown at overly Christmassy people; I hum along to the tunes and nod politely in their direction. Heck, I might even give them a *gasps* smile!

No longer do I refuse to talk about presents, gifts, cadeaux until December 1st. No longer do I rip Christmas cards into shreds (alright, I never did this but, c’mon, what a waste of paper!).

No longer do I b*tch about Brussels sprouts and roasted chestnuts. I HAVE BEEN CURED!!!

When you know, you know…

2020 brought with it scary, new terminology, such as “social distancing” and the “r-rate”; phrases we hope to never have to use so frequently again.

It introduced many of us to the life-changing fact that hand sanitiser comes in other flavours, too— not just tequila.

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Thinking back now to NYE, kissing as the fireworks went off and the clock turned 00:01 was symbolic of us kissing goodbye to some of our freedoms (even if, at the time, it just seemed like snogging the last fit person left at the party!).

The majority of 2020 has been spent “locked-down”, indoors, kept distracted by the sinister prospect of either: (1) losing our jobs, (2) our homes, (3) our friends and family members or, heck, (4) our minds— and if that wasn’t sinister enough, we had Tiger King and banana bread* to keep us busy!

*I genuinely don’t think I can eat banana bread ever again…

This year has been a complete and utter sh*t show and we all deserve a bit of happiness. SO, I say: LET THERE BE JOY (and a copious amount of choc!).

Looks like Santa came early…

Topics include, but are not limited to: festive foreplay, sleighing/neighing queens, chocolate tin wars, and Things to be Grateful For.

Food for thought #16 (When, if ever, are you too old to “get your spook on”?)

Halloween: the only time of the year when it’s acceptable for women to throw on some cat ears and be a Fierce Pussy™.

Halloween. Hallows’ Eve. The Witching Month. Spooky Season. There are many different names for it, but all serve the same purpose: describing the BEST night of the year.

Yes, that’s right: your birthday and Christmas do not win the titular Day of the Year. As far as days go, they’re OK– good days, great even– but no day will ever compare to the one that grants children the chance to egg their neighbours’ houses scot-free and do the one thing your mum told you never to do: take candy from strangers.

Topics include, but are not limited to: Satan’s hooves, pumpkin patches, Sexy Kittens, and Nessa Shanessa Jenkins.

Hear me out #4 (How to evade “Death by Synonym”: A Guide)

Synonyms are weird and strange and bizarre and, come to think of it, rather queer.

For instance, if someone invites you to their “cottage in the forest” it sounds all nice and cozy, but if they invite you to their “cabin in the woods” then you’re pretty much going to die.

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Topics include, but are not limited to: holiday homes, ass phoning, Fathers, and “Death by Cinnamon Synonym“.

Food for thought #11 (My Quest to Become A Quarantine Queen)

DISCLAIMER: I, like most of the world’s population, have been in quarantine for over two months and, with the newfound ability to see the light shining at the end of the metaphorical tunnel, thought it would be therapeutic (read: entertaining) to recap my time spent quarantining. Similar to my most recent posts written about Covid-19, this post is not intended to offend, or undermine the gravity of the pandemic; it is merely intended to make people laugh a little (or a lot) and, if I’m lucky, get a book deal. My love and thoughts go out to anyone affected by Covid-19. Enjoy and stay safe!

Food for thought #10 (“Social distancing”: an excuse to work on your “dating app chat”)

DISCLAIMER: Social distancing is incredibly serious and we should all follow the guidelines set by our government in order to help support health services and try to put an end to Covid-19. This post is intended as light humour and, quite frankly, written to take the piss out of the often banal, pathetic, and almost cringe-worthy messages received on dating apps. Enjoy and stay safe!

Food for thought #9 (Stockpiling toilet roll makes you a bad person. Discuss.)

DISCLAIMER: This is not a blog post about Coronavirus, I repeat, this is not a blog post about Coronavirus. It’s a blog post about the carelessness, irrationality and, quite frankly, insufferable stupidity of some people. Not meant to offend, just to make you laugh. Enjoy and stay safe!

Food for thought #8 (What does your “number” say about you?)

With the return of ITV’s Love Island and Netflix’s Sex Education, the fixation on people’s sexual history is more magnified than ever. In modern dating, it’s not uncommon to be asked the “dreaded” question in the first conversation with a new suitor: How many people have you slept with?

Food for thought #7 (Ghosting someone is weak)

Dating in the 21st century is tough. Long gone are the days when you’d have meet cutes with attractive strangers in the middle of supermarkets, or fall victim to huge romantic gestures while on your lunch break (not that I’ve ever been subject to either but a gal can dream). However, dating at university is even tougher.

Mediated through dating apps, social media, and unavoidably intertwined social circles, it’s quite often you find yourself going out with someone that your best friend’s coursemate’s cousin’s friend went out with back in second year. Everyone knows everyone and it’s pretty rare that you find someone without an Instagram or Tinder profile.

In university, not having a social media presence is like the plague: you’ll be shunned faster than you can say “I used to have MSN”.