Wednesday, 29 January 2014

Blog Comforts.

My plan was to blog a whole lot more this year now that I feel like I have my own style and have found some sense in my own ramblings – but recently things have been a little hard on me, and the blog has suffered because of it.

Cos every blog post should have a bit of Ryan, right?

I know that this little blog shouldn’t be my main worry at the moment – I’m sure you’d all manage just fine without it for a week or two – but it’s an escape that I never realised the importance of until recently. It may only take a short time to write the post, or find an image, or think up an idea… but the way it tunes you out of everything else in your mind, even if just for a little while – is pretty amazing.

I’ve had a lot to deal with lately, and I’m dealing with it miles away from my friends and family, so I almost didn’t want to post anything – at least until I was out of whatever this mess is and feeling better about myself. But I decided it might be a good idea to get something out on the page – to give me some sort of clarity or outer perspective, maybe. I realise that without telling you exactly what is going on right now, you can’t really sympathise with me – but I want this to be more about the comfort we find in our own blogs, rather than the problems we battle while we write them.

I’m not sure when I’ll start writing again – it could be tomorrow, or next week. It could be tonight! I’m a bit of a loose wire like that. But whenever it is, I’m looking forward to it – because at least then I’ll know I’ve made it out the other side.

Tuesday, 21 January 2014

Taking a compliment.

It's generation selfie, and approval from peers is up there at the top of the list with food, water and oxygen these days. So if we're so set on flaunting our features, why is it so hard to accept a compliment? 

I've never been an awkward person. My old chum sarcasm has never strayed too far when I need to wriggle myself out of any potentially uncomfortable situations - but one thing I can't handle? Receiving, and graciously accepting, a compliment. I can't do it. I CAN'T.
Smug bitch.

Stemming back to my playground days when Adam - my first love at 7 years old - told me he liked me, my elation was soon followed by a wave of creeping suspicion - were his friends watching? Was this a dare? He was in primary 3, did he even know what love was? Cos I sure did, and I wasn't about to waste my time with some silly little boy throwing the L word around. Even at a young age, I couldn't wrap my head around this compliment shit. 

Even now, when I receive a compliment, I have a serious case of word vomit. Funny in Mean Girls, not so much in real life situations. No sooner have they finished their sentence, I'm already spewing out the words "Oh thanks! I love your..." and then it happens. What do I love? Anything? Okay, maybe not love, but I must like something. Of course I do! There is almost no end to things I like about her! But nothing comes out. Suddenly I'm lost for words, coming out in a rash, and she's slowly realising that I can't think of one nice thing to say. Say something. Say you like her hair? But that would be a lie - I liked it longer. She even liked it longer. If I can really sell this hair thing I may just make her day. If she doesn't buy it, she'll launch at me animalistic Mean Girls style. Seconds have passed, we're standing facing eachother - me with my brilliant shoes she has just complimented me on, and her standing in front of me with her shit hair - and I got nothin'. 


"...lips. I love your lips!"


Spot on, now you're a creep.

 Any other compliment-phobe creeps out there? C'maaan, show yourselves - we can get t-shirts made.

Thursday, 16 January 2014

I like my men like I like my makeup.

Or don't like them, it would seem...

I've had my fair share of experience with boys. And I've had my fair share of makeup. Some good, some bad. Granted, the relationships with makeup have been a lot smoother than those with boys...but we've got a lifetime to suss em both out, right?

In terms of my ridiculous makeup comparisons, I'll keep it simple; mascara, bronzer, eyeshadow and primer. So without further ado...

Allow me to introduce – Mr Mascara. When asked which one beauty product a girl can't live without, most will probably say their mascara. I can categorically say that I have held stronger feelings for every single mascara I’ve ever owned than I have this boy and could definitely live without him -  but, just like having mascara on a ‘no makeup’ day, it’s one of those handy things to have around to show people your life isn’t a complete shambles.

If we dig a little deeper into the depths of my Little Black Makeup bag, we find Mr Bronzer. As a young duckling, I was excited by this exotic new product. He soon became a must-have and part of my everyday look – but, alas, too much of a good thing can make you look like a loon. I’ll admit, my first experience with a bronzer was intense, but I wouldn’t advise getting too emotionally attached - it'll only pick up and leave you for the Armed Forces when you least expect it.

You know that photo you look back at and cringe? You know the one - with the horrendous glitter eyeshadow? Theeere you go. Meet Mr Glitter. I'm not sure where my head was with this one...but it didn't last long. Maybe, whilst having withdrawal symptoms from Mr Bronzer, I decided to embark on a new romance with someone who actually DID wear bronzer. Okay - maybe not. But there was a definite glow about him that I didn't trust...glitter eyeshadow was, is, and always will be a no no no no no.

I'm going to stray off the theme of makeup for a moment now, if I may. For the next boy in the line-up is one that I could only describe as that horrible gloopy stuff you get stuck right in the corner of your eye when you have makeup on. Or wearing a concealer five shades from your true skin tone. Or having lipstick on your teeth. You get the picture - this guy was my worst investment yet. As a rebound from, well, nothing – I picked up this love-life-come-makeup faux pas in the fruit and veg aisle of Asda.

Unfortunately, that is entirely true.

The relationship soon became a long distance one when I moved away for uni, but as time went on and the gloop never cleared, it was making me want to tear my eyes out. The final straw must have been when he text me to declare proudly that he was 60% in love with me.

*Rubs eyes furiously*

Finally we reach Mr Primer. Primer came a lot later in my makeup journey. It's somewhat of a wonder product that I had heard about, but never experienced for myself and to be honest I thought might be too good to be true... but so far it’s managed to surpass all of my expectations. Like with my makeup, things can head a little south when he's not around, but now that I’ve had a piece, I don’t know what I’d do without him! Mr Primer definitely helps me keep my shit together. 

Damn, I’m a romantic son of a gun.