a recap, in pictures.

Reading my short story From the Sand to the Sea, which has recently been published in Hull University’s literary anthology, Fresh Ink. I decided that during the launch party I would drink a lager that is stronger than my usual pint, which set me on the road to ruin. Fast-forward to the next day, when I feel a little bit worse for wear. This is exacerbated by sitting on a train listening to a boy big himself up on the phone to his grandma. Who does this?! ‘Hi, Grandma, it’s me. I’m doing really well, yeah. In fact, fantastic. I’m just THE BEST at my new job. Everyone loves me. I’m doing the job better than anyone else ever has before. The respect that people have for me is just AWE INSPIRING. In fact, they’ve made a statue of me and given me a knighthood. How’s your hip?’ (This may or may not have been the actual words he spoke…) So I eventually arrive at my boyfriend’s, where I am awarded with the following hangover cures: nachos, a nap, and fajitas!

The condiments are clearly my favourite part of most meals.

Eaten while watching Man vs. Food. Well, why not? (Fun fact: I have watched at least one episode of Man vs. Food a day while at Rich’s house. I’m really quite glad I don’t have Sky, I think it would ruin my life.)

Breakfast of champions. If I saw Rich more often there is a good chance I would be obese.

I am not good at taking outfit pictures. Excuse the flash and the goat leg. Cardigan, tshirt and scarf: H&M. Jeans: New Look. Shoes: Tesco. Bangle: market stall.

GREEEEEEN. Playsuit, tshirt, cardigan: H&M. Scarf: market stall. Handbag: Next. Boots: Office.

Lime & coriander chicken, roasted mediterranean vegetables, salad and home-made rosemary focaccia. Pretty damn tasty if I do say so myself.

I bought half a pineapple, half a melon, a punnet of strawberries and a punnet of blueberries. It turns out boys don’t eat fruit so I had to eat it all myself.

I do not usually look like this. I spent about 83847575 hours doing my makeup and my camera was being kind.

And then… my camera is happily chilling in my bag in its little pouch. On the train ride home, I took out my camera to have a little squiz at the weekend’s pictures. The screen is half black and half splodge. RAGE. I’m taking it to Comet when I can to tell them off for selling me shoddy goods but I have a horrible feeling they will tell me it’s all my own fault and I have to lump it.

RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGE.

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