Just to pass the time...

Started this as when I used to get back from work, I was usually so hyped I couldn't sleep for a couple of hours. Now just sort of carried it on for the fun, I try to make it funny, if it isn't please don't hurt me... Anyway, try to enjoy :)

Sunday, 3 May 2015


So I did have another blog but the website kept saying "504 Gateway Error"
I suppose that means the gateway to Hell.

Let's start this over. Hello. I'm weird. Please just deal with it. It saves time that way.

Yeah, yeah, obviously my name's not weird. Well it is, but my name isn't Weird. That'd be social suicide, if you were to call your child Weird. Almost like Number 42 Bus Shelter.

No. My name's not Weird. Or Number 42 Bus Shelter. It's Bobby. Well, that's a nickname anyway. Why do you even need to know my name? Are you going to stalk me? Please don't.

What always makes me laugh is the fact that everyone seems to hate their own name. I suppose after hearing it so many times it does become a bit old. Especially if it's your parents yelling it up the stairs every half an hour. And the spelling and pronunciations are fantastic. I mean, it isn't if it's your name being spelled and pronounced wrong, but it's pretty entertaining for everyone else.

Anyway, back to topic. What even is the topic? Was there one to start with? I can't remember, so I guess stuff about me.

I have serious issues with remaining upright with both feet on the ground. I like to blame this on my gawky size 8 feet. Sadly, being a girl, size 8 feet doesn't impact the size of anything else thus increasing my masculinity (unfortunately), it just increases my chances of falling down the stairs. By a lot. Thankfully, after a very long time of having feet which dwarf the rest of me, I've become prettyyyy good at covering my tracks. By breaking into some sort of tap dance, pretending to be a swan, or lying on the floor and pretending to be dead.

I also have this weird thing, when I drink through a straw, one of my eyelids flutter and I literally have no control over it. It makes my mum piss herself laughing.

I have weird hobbies. These include lifesaving, sea swimming, reading, writing poetry (because I'm a lonely Starbucks lover) and of course, guitar and writing music. Rock music. Which ruins my persona of an apparently "innocent", "adorable" girl who can either look 8 or 18 depending on how bothered I could be that morning to look presentable. There is no in between. The benefits of full fringes.

Also, I have hamster cheeks when I smile. These basically ruin my chances of being beautiful as I just look like a chubby little rodent that shoved all its sunflower seeds in its cheeks at once. My friends love making me smile just so they can pinch my cheeks and make "coochy coochy coooo" noises. Like I said, 8 or 18. No in between.

Also, I'm meant to be "smart". To me, there are two types of smart. One is the ability to cram loads of pointless information into one's head, vomit it all over a page (or two hundred) in an exam, and then move off to do A-levels and Uni and never have to even think about the quadratic formula or the effects of radiation on cells in the body ever again. Unless you take those subjects, in which case more fool you.

Secondly, there's initiative and common sense, which allow a person to work out things based on the way the world works. I am mostly this. Except when it comes down to the little things, I have absolutely no common sense. These include opening a door that says "pull", gullible jokes, and several incidents that have since been passed off as "blonde moments". For example, sitting at your computer after reading the statement ""Gullible" pronounced slowly sounds like "Oranges"" for half an hour going "Guuuuullllllllllliiiiiiiiiibbbbbbbbbbbbllllllleeeeeee.....NO IT DOESN'T! WHAT THE HELL???" Is not usually considered the antic of a wiser being. I tend to manage to make myself jump by leaning on the hand dryers in bathrooms. If you've done this before, you'll know just how scary it is. It's honestly worse than watching The Exorcism.

I'm the sort of girl that is loud and bubbly when I know you or when I'm feeling like socializing, but when I'm quite comfortable being alone and someone attempts to talk to me, I will literally mumble and hide behind the nearest object that I can conceal myself behind. I make the habit of proving to passers by that I am not a teenage thug by smiling and revealing the blobs on either side of my face that mark me as a loveable little ball of fluff to the world. Sometimes, passers-by glare. Sometimes they look worried. Other times, they'll look terrified, hold their children tighter and cross over to the other side of the street. Thankfully, most smile back. Occasionally, people say "good morning" and attempt to start a conversation. This is my cue to become fascinated by the components of tarmac and hurry along.

I get approached a lot by elderly people. The plausible reason for this as suggested by my peers is "Your resting-bitch face looks like you're absolutely terrified". Perfect. More hamsters. Next I'll be performing high-pitched squeaking noises to show discomfort. But evidence stacks up. People walk up to me and ask me if I'm okay. I permanently look worried. Honestly, I get more and more attractive by the minute, I swear.

When I get loud and happy, I can become obnoxious and somewhat annoying. This makes me rather unpopular among many people, however most people learn that it is my way, and that I will calm down sooner or later. Just today, I was quite happy, and spent the majority of break head-banging, swishing my hair from side to side because it felt nice, and playing hand keepy-ups with the earphone that was not at that time in my ear. If you find that sort of thing endearing, you need help.

I think that's enough for you to generate a fairly accurate opinion of the weird British girl that writes this blog. But hey, let me tell you one thing: I;m rarely ever boring.

Saturday, 2 May 2015


As a waitress, I meet a lot of interesting people.

I've met several famous people including some actor from "The Bill" which probably would have been way more awesome if I actually knew what "The Bill" was...

I've bumped into teachers, including my English teacher who was on maternity leave, and I'm not sure if she'd had anything to drink, but she didn't leave without announcing very loudly that she'd cry if I didn't get an A* on my English GCSE. She'd had me since year 8 and she's always been my favorite teacher who gave me tips to improve my writing and she's been really supportive, so I can understand her point. I'd probably cry, too, in her situation.

But you also get the weirdest people in the world.

A few weeks ago, an older man asked me for organic sugar and I told him we had Truvia. That's the one with the Chitty Chitty Bang Bang advert, with the "Truly Scrumptious" tune. Just in case you didn't know and needed to know what it was. He then starts telling me about how sweeteners have a chemical in that gives people cancer and goes on and on and on about how dangerous so many foods are, containing elements that are harmful. I stand there quietly nodding, making sounds of agreement. Like you do in those awkward situations where you have nothing to input in a conversation. As he's leaving he asks my boss for an address to the cafe so he can send me some documents that he had that were more informational on the topic. After they'd gone, my boss teased me to no end about me ability to pick up old men.

Scccccooooreeeee to the fringe-midget.

The most awkward was definitely my trial shift at the restaurant I work at currently. I've worked at two previously, and just am employed on an emergency lack of staff back-up at both establishments. I also work at a cafe one day a week which is great fun.

No, this trial shift was pretty awkward. The worst thing you want to happen is for someone you know to walk in. But they did. A guy who gets my bus. He's two years younger than myself but acts older so sometimes, if he sits near myself and my bus-buddy, we talk. He walked in and I was there like "oh fuck". He was there like "oh heeeeeeeeeey!" The awkward tension made it pretty obvious we knew each other and I ended up getting interrogated by his granddad. Awkwardddddd.

The best one though happened to be last week. My third shift at this place (I just got home from my fifth). I'm surveying the restaurant to make sure everything's ay-okay, and my cousins walk in. My. Fucking. Cousins. A guy and a girl, in their twenties. As you know, my resting bitch face already looks terrified, add the entrance of my deranged family members to my establishment of work where I act all professional, I was shitting myself. So my male cousin walks straight up to me and I'm silently praying "Don't say anything don't say anything don't say anything". He looks confused, laughs slightly and goes "watchoo looking so worried for, love?" And I'm there like YES HE'S PRETENDING HE DOESN'T KNOW ME! I was so relieved!

Then my girl cousin pipes up, "Oh, hey Robyn!" (I realised my name is published on here anyway so deal with my full name). And I was like oh dear. Then the guy cousin goes "wait, you know this girl??" My girl cousin was like "Yes, she's our cousin!" It took half an hour to explain the birds and the bees to him, as well as convincing him yes, I had been at all the family events, but eventually he got there, and in his drunken state proclaimed us long-lost cousins, and welcomed me to the family I had been a part of pretty much as long as I could remember. I got lots of apologies, hugs, and selfies which ended up on Facebook. I sold my soul to the Devil and willed him to take me to Hell right there and then, I was so embarrassed.

Tonight, I ended up speaking a lot of French, having been to boarding school over there. It wasn't all that interesting, just a lot of people were surprised seeing as I sound so POSH apparently.

Like, seriously. My friends like to make me say the word "roller" because apparently I sound like the Queen when I say it. I have no idea whether to be flattered or offended.....

And customers can be so annoying! One place I worked, it was just one simple warehouse-like room with tables scattered around. It was the 4 year anniversary and it was busy as it was a special night. There was a band and people were joined arms dancing. I was there carrying huge ceramic insanely heavy plates and people were just waltzing around and nearly knocking me off of my feet.

I may be small but I'm not that small. People can just be so oblivious.

In all honesty, I love my jobs. My favourite parts are meeting the dogs that get brought in and giving them a gravy bone which we keep on top of the microwave (and I can't get down by myself). If you go on Tripadvisor for the cafe, one review mentions a waitress who was attentive and talked to their dog.

Me. It was me. Don't judge, okay?
But apparently I'm getting nine red setters (in-joke, folks).

But there are people who are so hard to please and just complain. You get the babycino and macchiato people who just have to be difficult. Then you just get the interesting and odd characters. I love it.

Friday, 1 May 2015

Teen Stereotypes

So to be honest I think social media is awesome.

I know a lot of people don't share this view, and I really feel strongly about this issue.

Because I know about all the people out there who say that this generation is over-using social media and becoming addicted.

Well excuse me? What? I don't quite understand.

Those who were teenagers in the 60s and 70s... How was the marijuana and LSD, huh? Getting high all the time, listening to John Lennon and driving around from place to place in little VW camper vans, and telling everyone to make love not war. Those glasses and head bands were pretty cool, huh? Bet you loved all that tie-dye malarkey.

Stop fricking criticizing our generation.

Since when did social media ever hurt anyone? It could be worse. We're teenagers. We could be out there spray painting dustbins and setting fire to your cat. Technically, you're all safer with teenagers being sat at home on their phones.

Ditch the stereotypes, please.

So chavs. Yes, they exist. They have lazy accents, have a peculiar fashion taste and the girls tend to wear quite a lot of make up, as well as not nearly enough clothing. Yeah, so I sound stereotypical. I'm listing the stereotypical chav here. The girls post loads of pouty selfies, the boys are loud and arrogant, they all swear a lot and have no consideration for other people around them.

It's not all true. Yes, you get some people like that. You also get some people who tick half the boxes, yet are some of the nicest, politest people you will ever meet.

Then there are the teens like me. The one's that love to read. The ones that prefer to do their homework sat out in the garden even though they know it'll only aggravate their eczema, rather than being stuck inside. The ones that smile at everyone as they walk past, stop to ask if elderly people need a hand getting on or off the bus, strike up conversation with the checkout girl at Primark who looks a bit bored. We can chat to strangers, be polite, and try to make people's days a little bit better.

Yeah. Not all of us are going to steal your handbag and throw your dog on the train tracks.

There are some teenage girls who don't need a paint scraper to take their make-up off in the evenings.

There are some teenage boys who aren't going to swear at you and insult your haircut.

In fact, there are quite a lot. MOST OF THEM, even.

So can we ditch the stereotypes, please? I mean, from what I've heard, 60s and 70s were a bunch of stoners, 80s were all about neon, shoulder pads and leg warmers.

In fact, here, look at this picture I just found (link for full size image):

Does that really not speak for itself? More teens in the 80s smoked. More took drugs. More practiced unprotected sex!

Leave us the fuck alone!

I'm 16. I've never smoked. I've not had sex nor am I interested in it. The only drugs I take are painkillers when I'm not feeling too great. Heck, the only thing not so great we've fallen down on is phones. Yeah we have phones, so what? My mum won't let me out without mine, it's such a dangerous world now. Who's to blame? How about all the rapists out there. The average rapist is 33 years old. I just googled it. Born in the 1980s. What a surprise.

Also, we fall down on the fact that we see a lot of violent movies. Who makes these movies? Adults. Who let us watch these movies? Adults. Ditto video games. So stop blaming us.

Also, in regards to make-up, maybe if you adults making all those adverts and TV shows and magazines would stop airbrushing people to perfection, teens wouldn't feel the need to try to look perfect and end up looking like a deformed orange.

Yeah, so you lot all stereotype teenagers. Look at yourselves please. You all know who you are. Stop judging so many on the actions of so few.

Yes, that's right. You. Dragging your child to the other side of the pavement because I smiled at you. Kicking me out of the shop while I was waiting for the post office to open because I was "loitering". Glaring at me when I have earphones in.

I'm not bitter at all.

Thursday, 30 April 2015


So nowadays yeah, alcoholism is a huge problem

Having experienced it second-hand on two separate accounts, excuse me from being unwilling to go to parties where everyone ends up completely out of their minds, jumping through fires, ripping off banisters, throwing up in every which direction and where people end up going missing.

By all means, go ahead! But please don't expect me to come with you and watch you all making stupid, half-witted decisions like throwing yourself down a flight of stairs to have a cover story for your injuries.

Don't get me wrong. I'm not against drinking. I like to have a couple of glasses of wine with my family when we go out for dinner, and I accept that in moderation alcohol can make people feel more at ease. Even to the point where you're a bit tipsy, I'm fine with that.

But why would you drink so much that you make yourself sick? That you put yourselves and others in danger? You have no idea what you're doing? Say one night you got so drunk you tried to drive home? What if you ran over someone? Think of the consequences, not only punishment but the psychological effects it'll have on you. Imagine having to live with that,

Half the time you don't remember anything anyway. So what's the point?

You know what? I might even stretch to say that having a party where you get wasted every now and then isn't so bad.


What?? Why?? Why would you do that to yourselves? You must live with hangovers! How are your livers still functioning properly?

I fear that if I get drunk, I will become violent and antisocial. When I'm a little tipsy, I'm quite comical. I had a glass of wine on an empty stomach once with hilarious results. I messages two of my best friends asking why steps look like angry teeth, and whether the unicorns were angry at me for telling people that they were real.

Needless to say, they thought I'd had something stronger than a glass of Pinot Grigio. Try cocaine.

The next day I ended up passing out (...suspected low blood sugar...) so it's assumed that the two were related.

Never drink on an empty stomach. It will not end up in your favour.

When my mum gets tipsy, she's like me. On holiday in Florida she spent a walk back to the flat after eating out in a restaurant attempting to lift up my dress in front of passers-by. I can safely say I was not amused. She likes to say now that she was showing off my legs.

I thought parents were supposed to do the opposite of showing off their children to random strangers in what may be considered a sexualised manner.......

So also, in one evening, pelted my 13 year old brother with Hershey's Kisses as they tasted disgusting and then made me film her sneak-attack tickling him. My finger very nearly got broken and swelled up massively during this event.

Just goes to show, really.

Some people get so aggressive after a drink though and I don't want ti find out if I am one of these people.

Who knows, maybe I'll be a violent fringe-midge?

It's in my blood. I don't want to be a violent person. I want to be the happy-go-lucky girl I am now.

Also, I know that if I end up at a party where everyone's pissed I will get frightened and I will end up fixing people up. As a trainee lifeguard I know what to do and it'll end up as girl vs. world and me trying to play Jesus. And I'll be hated for it.

I don't want to be a stuck-up goody two-shoes but this is my gut feeling. I'm not doing it because it's illegal. I just don't want to see people unable to control themselves. I just don't want to become out of control, I like to know what I'm doing.

I'm spontaneous enough without the extra help.

The General Election 2015

So tomorrow's the general election and everyone's buzzing about the turnout. Who will win? Will UKIP stand a chance? Will it become a coalition government?

Naturally, at the age of 16, the only vote I'm allowed to take part in is some crazy school election run by the 6th formers, pretending to be the party leaders.

Yesterday, I was speaking to two of the guys in charge of UKIP, who were puzzling over how they might be able campaign in a similar way to Farage. I suggested knocking on people's doors and having a chat with them, as well as taking selfies with teenagers. To me, that seems to be predominantly what Farage does around my town.

I'm trying to keep it so you people don't know where I live....

Anyway, if you're interested in my opinion, I agree on leaving the EU. I think that the UK's too small for people to keep joining because they think that it will be as we were under Labour, and they will be given free housing, money to be getting along with as well as a job.

With the Tories that's been less the case, but people abroad are still describing England as the Promised Land, The Land of Bread and Honey...

Their last hope.

But we just can't any more, and give it 20 years, when you fly over the country in a plane, you will see grey and brown. No more green and yellow fields. I don't want to see that happen. Britain should stay agricultural, and I love the countryside and the open air and the peace and quiet away from the bustling cities. Or is that just me...?

I know that this year there really isn't an all-clear solution. Some parties have good claims, other parties have good claims, but all of them have flaws and in all honesty I can't quite see which one would be worst for our country.

All this politics stuff is way too serious for me. I'm mentally about 11 years old. I still believe in unicorns and fairies because it's easier to explain the things I don't understand. Like physics and equilibrium.

So I suppose it's probably better that I didn't vote. Because if I did then I'd vote for The Monster Raving Loony Party.

Reading these guy's claims never fails to make me smile. I can read them over and over again and not got bored of them.
To list a few...

"All Food sold in fast food establishments should be clearly marked: "May contain traces of real food""

"All vegetables sold in supermarkets, should be clearly marked: "Strictly for oral use only""

"We propose to make unicorns a protected species?"

"It is proposed to introduce free travel on trams and buses for musicians as they bring joy into people's lives.... Obviously"

To see more click here: http://www.loonyparty.com/about/policy-proposals/

You gotta give it to the guys, reading their "manic-festo" honestly made my day. It's about the only part of politics that doesn't make my head hurt and remind me of all the people that control our country, the majority of whom have had very cushioned upbringings.

These guys get it!

Well....from my point of view, anyway. Probably not from the majority's point of view.

Some of their claims have even been accepted! See?

I think this party just makes politics a little more entertaining. I mean they're a legitimate party based on bad puns and who people actually vote for. What's not to love? If you don't think it's even a little bit brilliant or funny then you really need to let your hair down and take a breather.

Life isn't about being serious all of the time, you know!

Wednesday, 29 April 2015


So today I was involved in a bus crash.

It wasn't like a serious head-on collision or anything. Everyone's still alive. Only two of us suffered any kind of injury.

What happened was a really weird sequence of events. In the afternoons, I always get the bus with my bus-buddy. I'm sure he won't kill me, and no one will manage to track him down if I say his name's Conor. So I got to the bus stop by a garage and waited for the bus, chatting. After 15 minutes, the bus decides to make an appearance, and in the driver's cabin is very clearly a trainee, as he has a supervisor overseeing. After a joking argument about who would save a seat and who wouldn't, I managed to get on the bus first and save a seat for Conor, me by the window, him by the aisle.

So we traipse slowly around the town and head up the road out of town, by which point the bus was 20 minutes behind schedule. Then, we head up around this sharp corner near the local primary school, where we met another bus heading the opposite way. The second bus stops. Ours tries to carefully maneuver around the second bus by mounting the pavement, but the wing mirror of the second bus collides with the window of ours. This happens all the time, so I look at Conor and go "oohp!" and then there's this huge noise as the front of the other bus goes straight through the window in front of my seat. It doesn't stop there. The bus keeps moving, dragging the front corner and wing-mirror of the second bus through the window, sending glass raining down on everyone.

I threw myself into the brace position and screamed very loudly.

It's all like a huge blur. It seemed so surreal. I kept thinking "this is a dream, wake up". These sorts of things didn't happen to normal people. I couldn't move at first, it was too unbelievable to do anything. I was completely transfixed. The shower of glass seemed to move towards me in slow motion. When I finally managed to break away my gaze I dived down and to the left, so I was nearer Conor as opposed to the bus coming through my window.

There was in my hair. There was glass in my shoes. Down my shirt. On my lap. It was everywhere. It was quite pretty at first, sun shining down on it in a way that almost seemed as though the floor was littered with diamonds. I looked at Conor, who hadn't moved a muscle throughout the whole thing; he reached up and tousled his hair and said "There's glass in my hair". Painfully, I stood up and moved into the aisle.

Of course, everyone got their phones out and started to take pictures. No one was seriously hurt. People were laughing. I was laughing and taking pictures, the situation seemed almost comical. Then, after 5 or so minutes, I woke up. I was on a smashed in bus, with 50 or so other kids pressed together.

I wanted out. I started yelling at everyone to get off of the bus. A year 7 next to me said "well at least the windows are open!"

Yeah. Great. Thanks.

Finally, everyone started herding off of the bus, coaxed by some 6th formers. Finally I was out on the pavement with Conor who was so excited about what had just happened. The younger students were absolutely buzzing with excitement. Conor was shaking shards of glass out of the back of his shirt, laughing. I wasn't laughing any more.

I phoned my mum and told her what happened. She asked if I was hurt and I replied, no, I wasn't and she said she'd come and pick up my brother and I. After the call, I picked up my rucksack and like a cool kid, I swung it on to my shoulder and then I became aware of the pain at the top of my back.

With my long history of back problems, I knew this was going to be a problem.

Obviously, some people had cuts. You can't smash in a bus and expect no one to get cut. Someone had pointed out that my knee was bleeding, and I'd picked out the shard of glass. I had to take my shoes off as there was so much glass in them they were cutting my feet.

My mum phoned again to ask where we were and I told her about the pain. She told me to make sure my name was written down by the bus driver.

I told Conor and my brother and the pain. Conor took me inside the primary school, carrying my bags for me and told me to sit down on the sofa. It was his old primary school. I didn't sit for long, I went to talk to the bus driver, and after a very stressful conversation on the spelling of my address, I was ay-okay to wait for my mum.

Soon enough she showed up, I said goodbye to a happy Conor and his brother, and got in the car.

I spent the rest of the evening in tears, thinking about what happened. Shock.

I'm going to the doctor's tomorrow for them to look at my back. We think that I've jarred it. Tomorrow is my last day at school before study leave.


The other person who was injured went to hospital and had the glass removed from her scalp at Minor Injuries. She's okay and says she doesn't really remember what happened.

So it wasn't a disaster, but it certainly wasn't something I'll be boasting about having been through.

And it isn't likely to be something I'll forget, either.

Tuesday, 28 April 2015

So much stress

Ok so calmmmmmmmm

Easier said than done, though.

I mean, seriously. I swear everything's happening at a super bad time.

So after that bus accident, I'm in constant pain. I mean, it's manageable. If I lay on my bed and don't move.

So yeah, it would all be okay.

If I didn't have my first fucking GCSE tomorrow.

Well I had ICT last week. But it's ICT, who cares about that?

Tomorrow I have French. And seeing as I want to be an interpreter when I grow up, translating poetry and novels into French for non-English speakers to also enjoy, I sortaaaa need to do good.


I am so screwed.

But it's all okay. Coz my Doctor told me that she can't get me referred to a specialist right away, but come back on Thursday, and it'll be sorted. Just take codeine in the meantime.

I bought some codeine. It says in big letters on the front "THIS MEDICATION IS ADDICTIVE IF TAKEN FOR MORE THAN THREE CONSECUTIVE DAYS".

Well that's just great, don't you think?

They better sort me out quickly. Soon enough I'll have an exam every day.

I'd take paracetamol and ibuprofen but it works for like an hour and then it all comes flooding back. I actually got sent home from work Friday night, because I was so pale and clearly in pain.

Where's my Oscar goddamnit?

I actually felt so bad I took a day off work on Saturday.

I felt terrible afterwards. I was lying on the sofa with a case of death just there like "I hate myself. I am a despicable human being. How could I let everyone down like this?? I'm the worst person to have ever walked the face of the Earth!"

My Jeremy Cricket's quite loud. More like an cicada.

I know this blog entry's quite whiny. I understand that it's the exam season. Everyone's feeling the pressure.

I know I'm not alone.

And I really want to say thank you to those who have been putting up with me being temperamental. And also just mental. So shout-out to my amazing boyfriend who I am honestly surprised isn't sick to death of me already. Always saying the right thing :)

Honestly. There is just too much to do. And this is probably going to be the longest 36 days of my life.

Spoke to a nice girl in McDonald's in Canterbury yesterday. She said they're always looking for French speakers, as a lot of the tourists are French over there and the staff struggle a lot with trying to understand them all.

That's me sorted, then.

So on a funnier note as this is kinda depressing, I saw a joke earlier that killed me. It's not even that funny:

"A Mexican magician tells the audience he will disappear on the count of three. He says "Uno, dos..." *poof*....He disappeared without a tres."

I swear I nearly wet myself laughing. It's not even that funny,

It's always the little things in life...