The Post-Travelling Blues #2

BARCELONA PT.I

Song of the day: Barcelona - The Plastiscines

How I wish I was far away from the miserable mess that is London. Scratch that, I love London with all my heart and soul I really do. But I've caught the travel bug and I highly doubt I will be cured of it anytime soon.

I know it's been awhile since my last post. I was busy settling into normality. Back to London, back to working life, back to reality.

Debbie and I on the way to Barcelona!

Earlier this year around March/April time, I was constantly working by doing many promo shifts during the day and then working in the cloakroom at night until 3:30am. It got to a point where I was only home to sleep. It even got to a point where I couldn't remember when I last had a day off. I was exhausted. I decided to have a week off. Luckily for me, my work is pretty flexible.

So what did I do? I had money to spare so I booked flights with a good friend of mine called Debbie to Barcelona and Lisbon. Why those places?

1) I've never been to either of those places in my life
2) It was cheap
3) I have friends in both countries

You want to know how much my flights cost me? London - Barcelona - Lisbon - London was £70. Yes you read right. £70. Of course I had to book it for that price. You want to know what was even more perfect? I had a friend I could stay with in Barcelona! All around awesome badass hailing from Dungannon, Northern Ireland who goes by the name Jenny. Also my friend Debbie was from Lisbon, so we stayed at her mum's home. Accommodation was sorted. The only money we needed was to spend while we were away. If that's not travelling on a budget I don't know what is.

Barcelona, Barcelona, Barcelona where do I begin? I was there for 4 days. It was fucking great. The first thing that happened when we arrived was that we actually landed about 2 hours outside of Barcelona. Literally in the middle of fuck all nowhere. There was the airport, car park for the airport and then poof. Nothing but sand and some buildings. Cheers Ryanair. We wondered why it was so cheap. We didn't see it as a blunder in our journey, we saw it as another adventure. Plus it was warm and sunny while London was cold and raining. That was all that mattered. I mean come on we were in another country! HOW EXCITING? After attempts of poorly spoken spanish on my part before Debbie swoops in with a perfect conversation in spanish, we managed to find our way to the train station and hopped onto the right train that was headed straight for the heart of Barcelona. Spanish trains come at us! We conquered you like a pro. So far...

We stumbled off the train and found our way to an underground tube station. It was like being in London all over again. Except we got lost. This time we were the tourists that people rolled their eyes at because we couldn't fathom their gosh damn train station. You know in London I'm all, "I don't understand how you get lost. Each train has their own damn colour on the tube map, its not hard!" We had to make our way to the Sagrada Familia because my friend Jenny lived next to it. We managed to find our way and we made it to our stop. You think it was that easy? Oh no my dear friends. Just no. Don't get me wrong we got onto the right train line. Everything was smooth sailing. We saw our stop coming up. We got our stuff ready. Bam. The train missed our stop. Debbie and I looked at each other and everyone in the train kinda looked at each other all confused. After ten long seconds the train did an emergency stop. I remember laughing with Debbie, we were all, "The driver forgot to stop!" beautiful. We heard the scratching sound of the train speaker go off and the train driver said, "We are uh....having a technical difficulty."

I was cracking up so much because everyone in our train carriage had that look that they know that the train driver knows that he just messed up and forgot. We all secretly wanted you to admit it! So everyone who was meant to get off at the Sagrada Familia were forced to get off at the next stop and catch the next train going back, which we did with ease. I felt sorry for the train driver. A man in our train carriage as he got out went up to the driver door and started yelling and kicking the door with all consuming rage. Let's just say you didn't have to know spanish to understand what he was saying.

Want to know the first thing we did when we finally got to the Sagrada Familia? Apart from admiring the awesomness and beauty of the building. Our eyes saw the sweet familiar yellow M that represents... McDonalds. Yes we were starving. We realised we hadn't really eaten. Instead of savouring the exquisite and tantalising spanish cuisine Barcelona had to offer, we opted for McDonalds because we were all around tired and lazy. You know how McDonalds in every country is a little bit different? They had a chicken version of a Big Mac. Debbie and I in our hungry states thought it was the greatest creation to mankind. It was like two massive chicken nuggets with the Big Mac sauce like what? London get your shit together and start selling these bad boys. I joke, we have enough fast food chicken shops in London to last a lifetime. We don't need anymore junk food in our lives. BE HEALTHY.

The Sagrada Familia. What a beautiful unfinished building. I didn't know that the reason that it's taking so damn long for this Gaudi masterpiece to be finished was because that it's funded solely on donations from the public. We finally made it to Jenny's flat and her lovely flatmate let us in. Jenny was at uni working on her master's degree, which she has since completed! So proud of her! It was lovely to see this building from the balcony of Jenny's flat at night. All the street lights gave it a warm glow. It was different. I can't really explain why. It was just one of those moments while sipping tea while Debbie rolls a couple of cigarettes, after a long day of travelling when you just sit and think, "Wow I'm here" you know? It was a very serene moment and I soaked up every second of it.

Image by me :) - View from Jenny's balcony :)

That was the adventures of the first day. We got lost and ate McDonalds. We're shit tourists. But it was hilarious. I wouldn't take any of it back. Keep a look out for Barcelona Pt. II, which should be up soon.

Cheers,

xxx

The Post-Travelling Blues #1

Song of the day: Make It Easy On Yourself - Sivu

Being away from the hustle and bustle of the big smoke that is London for two whole months was one of the most surreal experiences of my life. I laughed, I cried, I got drunk, I made new friends, I was alone, I danced, I saw breathtakingly beautiful landscapes, I met a guy, I took long walks, I wrote, I ran, I swam in rivers, I swam in the sea, I wore make up, I wore no make up, I saw the sunrise, I saw the sunset and the list goes on. I didn't have a single care in the world.

I went to Malaysia, Thailand, Indonesia and New Zealand. Along the way, yes I ended up developing this thing people like to call 'feelings' for someone. Disgusting. For those who know me, the ice queen melted. She did okay. I know its been awhile but I can have feelings for someone too. Sadly for me and him, we live on complete opposite sides of the earth. We are two uncertain people set against an uncertain world. Anything can happen. So I can never say never on our story though. Just for the moment our paths won't intertwine anytime soon. However, my adventures over all was a great fucking time, which I will expand in a series of blog posts because there is so much to write.

Image by me :) - Sunset at Gili Trawangan

The only worry I had was what the fuck to do when I got home. Here I am stuck in my cosy little flat in London, in a tiny overpriced box room cluttered with books and clothes and I'm sat on my small bed set against a big window writing this. I got back last Sunday and I find that I'm struggling to settle back into routine. I mean it's good to be back home, to have a sense of normality again. Having to live in and out of a backpack, moving hostel to hostel and catching flights and buses here and there can be pretty exhausting after while.

I was so used to the thrill of living from moment to moment. It's like having twenty nicotine patches smacked on your arm along with ten shots of tequila and a few cans of red bull injected into your system. You don't know where you're going or how you're going to get there or even where you're going to sleep. Now I'm not trying to be all hippie in your face and tell you that everyone should just stop what they're doing and jet off without a plan because everyone does things differently. Travel-wise I am that kind of person who doesn't really plan her day at all, actually now that I think about it that's how I live my life. I don't follow a schedule unless its around work...or food. I just knew I was going away for two months. My flights were booked and that was it. That was the extent of my planning. As long as I didn't miss any flights I was good. It all worked out well. I actually even booked my accommodation the night before my flights. All of them were decent and reasonably cheap. For last-minute travellers out there like me, Booking.com is my saviour for accommodation and should be yours too.

Now here I am back home. Reminiscing about when I wasn't here. I have no clue what I'm meant to be doing with my life. Then again, does anyone really? I woke up at the ungodly hour of seven in the damn morning and I couldn't fall back asleep. Thank you jetlag. I feel restless. I want to be on the move again. Give me an adventure any day. Let me go whale watching. Let me look up at the stars on a clear night in the middle of nowhere. Let me be in a bar filled with strangers with different stories to tell. Let me drink tea in a mountain in Nepal. Let me go on a road-trip with no destination in mind. Just not here. I'm looking for freelance writing work so I can still have the freedom to pick up and go whenever I want and hopefully still have money rolling in so I'm not the poor writer I'm destined to be. If I can get paid to explore the world and write that would be the dream. A dream I'm sure thousands of others share. I'm checking Skyscanner constantly for cheap flights to anywhere but here. I'm thinking Iceland right now for a little getway. I think that will be pretty don't you all think?

Image by me :) - Gili Trawangan

                                 


Cheers,

xxx

Society Can Make Me Sad

Song of the day: Mother & Father - Broods

Sitting at Belfast International Airport with a bottle of overly priced water at £2.10. Yes I paid it with no questions asked because I had the loveliest time back home in N.Ireland and I wasn't going to let this damn water ruin it. Plus I was really thirsty and my flight to London is delayed by another forty minutes or so.

I'm slightly embarrassed because I've lost my glasses and I'm forced to squint my eyes, until the words on the tall screen with all the flight details become somewhat legible for my poor short-sighted eyes. Terrible I know, I'll get a new pair soon I swear. Anyway I had the funny idea to use my phone camera to read the screen. I thought that was a brilliant idea! You have to love zoom sometimes, gave myself a pat on the back and everything. However the screen kept changing each time I took the phone out so I missed what it said about my flight. This girl in front of me kept laughing and saw the struggle I was dealing with. I told her I lost my glasses and that I was trying to read the screen. She has kept an eye out for my flight and is keeping me updated as I write this without even being asked. People can be really nice.

This brings me to the nature of humanity as a whole. Why is it so hard for people to do the decent thing? What has this generation lost? No, what has caused our generation to be...well lets face it, pretty fucking selfish?

This reminded me of something that happened at work once. I was flyering one night with my friend for a bar. It was during winter and our shift didn't finish until 11:30pm. We were walking around Covent Garden when a homeless woman was struggling to walk. Dressed in old, shabby but colourful clothes. Rings littered her fingers. She kept fumbling with them as if they were something dear. Covent Garden has a few homeless people roaming around the streets at that time. Anyway, you can tell the woman was on something. Alcohol, drugs, drugs, alcohol I'm not one to judge. She was stumbling. My friend and I were worried so we walked up to her and asked if she was okay. She was incoherent. Words slurred. She walked on ahead and she fell and hit her head hard. My friend who was closest to her when the woman fell tried her best to catch her, or at least break her fall. There was a man who was stood next to his motorbike. He saw the whole thing. The woman was unconscious. It was worrying because she was fucked on whatever it was that she took and she was knocked out. We asked the man if he could help us. You know what he said?

"Just leave her," he said.
"Why?" I asked.
"Because she's homeless." he said.
"But that shouldn't matter," I said.
He shrugged and did nothing.

Can you believe it? He told us to just leave her. Why? Because she was homeless. Simple. It doesn't matter who she was or where she came from or how she came to be. She was still a person. A human being who needed help at that moment. I couldn't understand how that man just stood and watched as two girls were holding up this woman. I was worried because she smacked her head pretty damn hard. Yet he did nothing. Bastard. We managed to get her conscious and moved her somewhere for her to sit. We asked her questions to keep her awake. Her name, her age, did she have a phone, did she have someone that we could call for her. We asked what was it that she took. She took out little white pills from her pocket. The woman was insistent that we don't call emergency services. I ran to go get her water and a ham sandwich from a nearby Tescos.

At least thirty people walked by. Thirty. Did they look? Yes they glanced. They looked away. Pointed their noses in the air and continued walking. Pretended to not noticed. Ignored. Two people stopped. Two guys in their twenties asked if we needed help. They called emergency services. They stayed with us. When reality hit the woman she got up and walked away. She didn't want an ambulance or help. When someone showed up, a woman on a bicycle, dressed in bright neon yellow. She was from emergency services. It's what they send before an ambulance in Covent Garden. We pointed her in the direction the other woman went.

I haven't seen her since and I honestly hope she's okay. But I couldn't fully understand how that man said, "Just leave her". When I think back on it even now, it just shows how cruel society can really be.  It really doesn't take much to be a decent human being. People should treat each other how they want to be treated. End of.

Peace Out,

xxx

Remember To Be Awesome

Song of the day: Is There Somewhere - Halsey

Sometimes life throws the odd curveball at you. That odd curveball can break you and there you are, face smacked on the grey, cold concrete pavement. You're in pain internally. Sad thing is? No one knows. The odd curveball can be a mere passing 'joking' comment about your life choices made by a friend, your brother, your sister, your parents and sometimes your lover.

Image by me :) - Somewhere near London Bridge 

Recently people have made their opinions known about my lifestyle choices. Don't get me wrong, I welcome their opinions because people need a huge hit with a reality check stick every now and then. However, don't mention it every single damn time.

1) "Oh you, drinking again?" - Yes I am. I am 23 years old and I live in London. Yes I like a drink or two or three until I'm dancing on that table in the bar or rolling on the dirty floor laughing and forgetting to pay my tab after work. I'm sorry that I have that privileged freedom to do what I want with my life. As long as I don't drink first thing in the morning or it's not affecting my health yet I don't think I have a problem. Let go and live a little.

2) "You have a degree and you work in a bar and promo? When are you gonna get a real job?" - What qualifies as a real job I ask you? A 9-5 office job, wearing a black pencil skirt with tights and a shirt being stuck on a computer all day long? I've done that and I realised it wasn't for me. Please. A job is a job. Am I not supporting myself? Am I not paying my own rent or bills? Do I not pay for my own drinks and food? I think I'm doing pretty much okay in that department. If you're going to ask me that question maybe rephrase it to, "When are you going to start your career?". My answer? "Tomorrow if I feel like it, some people are late bloomers." Until then go and listen to Destiny's Child Independent Woman. That is my anthem to that question. Done and dusted.

3) "Don't you want a boyfriend?" - Again I am 23. I've had a boyfriend. A very emotional, heartbreaking, intense and heavily sexual relationship that lasted for about five years. Since then I've had casual lovers. I've had one-night stands. I haven't felt a connection with someone yet. For me it will take a lot. Emphasis on the words a lot, to call someone my boyfriend. Yes I have commitment issues but I am very open about that. I'm simply not ready. I am happily single because as cheesy and cliched as it sounds, like seriously so cliched I want to stick my head down a disgusting public toilet splashed with diarrhoea and vomit the words I'm about to write; Deep breaths... I actually took the time to 'discover' myself. Ugh I feel the bile riling up. I really have though. I have issues that I am working through before I can even begin to let anyone in. But right now, I am so comfortable with myself that yes I won't reply to that guy's texts. I won't immediately come over and fuck you. I will make you wait because I am probably out having the best time with my friends right now. You are more than welcome to join and we can go back together or I'll come over later. I won't drop my plans because you decided to text me all of a sudden.  I am okay with being alone for the night. Of course one day someone will come and rock my world, in and out of the bedroom. I will fall back in love eventually. But until Prince Charming arrives, I will swim through life and enjoy every goshdamn moment of it.

Those are the curveballs that have been thrown at me lately. They were made known to me as 'joke' or 'funny' comments, which I don't mind the first time. But if you keep mentioning it every fucking time, the words will begin to cut deep. The lights in the bar have turned on. The audience has left the gig. The cinema credits are rolling. You're just left stood alone in silence. That's when you begin to question your life. But after that, the music comes back on and you realise that your life isn't so bad and that you shouldn't be made to feel like the smallest person in the world just because some people continuously make thoughtless comments to you about the life that you didn't plan.

But never be disheartened by what people say, it's good to re-evaluate your life to see what's working and what's not at times because then you can change to how you want your life to be and be the person you want to be for your own sake. Just do it on your own terms made by your choices in your own time and no one else's.

Cheers,

Watch this space xx

Bad Poetry Corner #2

Song of the day: Cut Your Teeth by Kyla La Grange



This tattered world has bruised me.
                  - Tina Gallery

Bad Poetry Corner #1

Song of the day: All We Do by Oh Wonder


There's a hole in my soul,

An empty void so deep not even your soft kisses can reach,

You begged me to stay,

I dived,

She's not there.
                                                                      - Tina Gallery

The Other Part-Time Job

Song of the day: Stronger Than Me by Amy Winehouse

Image by me :) - Walking home in the early hours of the morning
and got to see this beautiful view.

Well that was an interesting start. I guess the first blog post should've been a little bit more about me but it was something I really needed to get off my chest. Now that it's done I can go on with what this blog is meant to be about. I'm a twenty-something year old girl living in London. I do promo work for a living while trying to make it as a writer.
     What is promo work you ask? You see those people handing out flyers and free samples or those girls and guys working as hostesses or asking you for your details to sign up for a new app? Or people working at big events like festivals? I am one of those people. If you see a promo person, most likely they are actors, musical theatre performers, singers, artists, photographers, dancers, models, tightrope walkers (yes you read right), graphic designers and writers like me.


There are several rules to promo: -


 Rule Number One: Don't Be Afraid
You have to have the ability to talk to complete strangers on the street.

Rule Number Two: You Can't Be Shy
You have to be bubbly and smiley all the time. Basically be friendly. NO MATTER HOW BAD YOUR DAY IS.

Rule Number Three: Rejection
You will deal with a lot of rejection. People will pretend you don't even exist. You have to deal with scrunched up dirty looks from people who sometimes look at you as if you're the scum of the earth. It hurts when you first do promo but after awhile you become numb to it. Then soon enough you begin to feel sorry for those people because really you're a fucking awesome person who could one day get their big break and be famous. Plus they're missing out on the great promotional deals that you're promoting like happy hour. I mean do people not understand how expensive alcohol can be in London? So really it's their loss.

Rule Number Four: Remember That This Is Not Forever
Promo work is to help pay the bills and rent, this is not an actual career. You actually have a dream job and you are working towards it.

Rule Number Five: Black Is The New Black
Your wardrobe will be dominated by black, black and oh yes more black. That's the standard promo uniform unless stated otherwise. You will make quick little trips to Primark because those leggings you always wear? Now worn out with holes. Those black tights? Yes they're ripped. Of course it depends what company you work for. They're normally quite relaxed so sometimes you can get away with your fabulous, glamorous and colourful self.

I work for a few agencies around London in order to scrape a living. Of course it has it's downside. It's not a stable way to live unless you get regular work. Sometimes you feel like you're not getting anywhere with your other job like not making it through that audition. Men consistently coming up with cheesy one-liners and harassing us for our numbers. We have to take up several shifts in one day which means standing all day and not being able to sit down for ages. Sometimes we get mistaken as strippers or prostitutes. I mean hello I am holding flyers here. But at the end of the day you realise that you've just had a terrible day and you continue with your life. But you know something? I secretly love it. Why? Mostly because its the people I work with. They are the ones that make this crazy line of work tolerable and keep me sane. I have met some of the most unique and talented characters and beautiful friendships have blossomed. It's always a great way to network because everyone helps each other out and sometimes hilarity just ensues.

That's the overall view and I hope you continue to watch this space,

Peace Out,
xxx

The Confession

Song of the day: Water Me by FKA Twigs

I have neglected this blog for a very long time. Emphasis on the word very. It's been nearly two years since I attempted to start up my blog and wow have I changed as a person between then and now. I was lost for awhile. I almost fell in love again. It was a fun, sweet, simple and short period and I know for a fact that I was happy. It was a different kind of love. It was something I never experienced before. He was the first guy I managed to connect with after my long-term relationship of nearly five years ended. I was thinking about him recently and I swore to myself that if I ever saw him again I would tell him one thing, "Thank you". What a strange and wonderful thing to say to someone who semi-broke your heart. He did a lot for me, more than I realised. He helped me heal the scars that were left from my last relationship. He did it without knowing it.
      Right now I am sitting in my bedroom with a cup of half drunken green tea, contemplating how to put my feelings into words while FKA Twigs 'Water Me' blasts in the background. Not just any words but the right words. I guess you can call this an open almost love letter to the man who helped mend me. He was smart, funny, charming, kind and beautiful inside and out. He remembered how I liked to have my tea, black with two sugars. He brought me toast in bed when I suffering a huge hangover in his bed even though it was the second time we met. He brought me a small gift when he went to Portugal when we only met three times beforehand. He waited for me while I was away on a near two-month holiday in Malaysia. He would hold my hand when we were out with his friends. He would check to make sure I was okay because I think he felt I was a bit nervous. I remember thinking, 'This guy must really like me'. He told me I was beautiful, smart, funny and interesting. I was taken aback because I wasn't used to this form of affection (yes I have my reasons). Of course he had his flaws, he was crap at texting but then so was I. He made more time for his friends than he did for me, which was something he apologised for in the end. He never once came to my house, I had to go to his. You know what? I accepted them all.
     I was never looking for anything. I never asked him for anything. I wasn't ready for anything. I was just grateful to have him in my life for that brief fleeting moment. He was exactly what I needed and I think deep down I was someone he needed. It was summer and it was the first time I felt free and happy after being a miserable mess for months about my last relationship. I was merrily drunk with a friend and we walked into this dark and dingy bar/club in Central London. Then we met. We ended up talking. We both came out of long-term relationships, we both had degrees in creative writing and other similar interests. It was an instant connection. I don't think we thought of each other as rebounds because it lasted longer than we meant to. I think we were each other's distraction, a good one though. I believe that everything happens for a reason and having him in my life during a time when I was still hurting was probably fate. We couldn't believe we only just found each other.
     I was a broken person when we met and he helped rebuild a part of me that I thought was gone years ago. Sadly he never knew how broken and shattered I was. No one really knew because it was hard enough for me to admit it myself let alone others. I couldn't let those walls crumble down yet. A part of me regrets it. I wish I told him about how my last relationship really affected me. That it was destructive and painful. When I look back he also never mentioned much about his previous relationship, even though I knew he was hurting. I think we wanted to focus on the fun part so we pushed every horrible emotion away. We wanted to feel alive again. Most importantly we wanted to feel happy. We talked, we laughed, we danced, we drank, we fucked and it was great. I wouldn't take any of it back.
     Of course I was sad when it ended. I cried for three whole days. But it was a mutual thing. I knew this temporary game we were playing was ending. That chapter of my life ended. It had to. Looking back on that relationship we clung onto each other because we were like the other's pill, in our high we temporarily fixed each other. Deep down I knew we both weren't ready for something more than what we were. I had some shit I needed sorting out and I still do to this day and he wasn't ready more than he liked to admit. So there we were, two people who had an amazing time and reality had to crack into their world. In the end he told me I deserved someone who could give me more of their time, he told me that I was amazing and that he was sorry. He said more but I won't dive into that, I felt the same way as he did.
      So I want to say a huge big thank you even though he would probably never know this. He made me feel that I was worth it. He made me feel that I do in fact deserve someone who is worthy, during a time when I didn't think I mattered much. It was like the universe smacked me in the face to tell me, "See, someone thought you're great and don't let anyone tell you otherwise again you complete twat". Even though we weren't in love. Had we continued maybe it could've been love. Infatuated yes but not love, he helped me open up to the possibility that one day I could fall in love again. So once more, thank you.

Peace Out,
xxx