Feelings.

Well, this is a bit scary.

My basis for writing this post is that no one probably reads this and I wanted an outlet for some of my heavy thoughts, so here we are. 



I have this thing called depression, and it really sucks. Like really sucks.

I know there have been short term triggers of it, but I also know that there are a few long term things as well as issues I have about myself which have always been there.

I am "recuperating" at home at the minute as I felt that if I stayed at uni for much longer then I would spontaneously combust or eat myself up.
It's not really recuperating though, more of a breather and putting myself in a place where people seem to genuinely care. Letting the wounds heal themselves a tiny bit.

I doubt it would be a good idea to go into too much detail about how I ended up in this state, because you don't care and I know already. 

At the moment, it feels like different people and events and ailments keep coming up to me with an axe and are hacking away at my soul, which sounds poetic and whatever but it is the cold reality of how I feel. 

A couple of days ago I thought I was starting to see a chink of light, but then something came along and knocked me down again. It was to do with the main trigger of my depression, and it really got to me. Now as well as hopeless, I feel guilt even though everyone is telling me that I have done nothing wrong. The horrible conflicting emotions inside of me are attacking each other and I don't see a way out of it.

I am a venn diagram of vicious circles- my eczema gets worse when I'm constantly worrying like this, and then I get even more stressed because my eczema gets worse, and so on..
I don't feel like talking to anyone or coming out of my room at uni, because what's the point? Everyone has their best friends and they don't really want me around, I'm boring. But then I feel bad that I'm not making an effort or whatever and then people criticise me for not being around, when the reason I try to get out the house is to get space and escape the den of loneliness which is my uni room.

When people say "don't worry, it will get better", I know that it won't. Because I cannot change whatever it is about myself that makes me unattractive, vulnerable and exploitable by others. The current situation I am in will not change either, so I really don't see any point.

I can't get to sleep at night, I've lost my appetite (crazy, I know), I have no motivation to do anything and I can't keep putting my happy mask on whenever I'm around people who aren't my family.


Not sure who will read this, if anyone, but cheers anyway and I hope that my ramblings and misery have not caused you too much grief and that you don't hate me now.


Sorry.

People.

(Disclaimer: I'm writing this having been awake for more than 38 hours, so this post may be a little fuzzy!) 

So having made 35 hours' worth of flights in the past 3 weeks across 3 different states of the U.S., it made me realise just how many people you see and interact with but then never see again.

I mean, on a flight from San Francisco to London Heathrow you'd be stuck in that plane for 10 hours and 10 minutes with nearly 300 complete strangers. For those 10 and a bit hours, you eat the same food, breathe the same air, watch the same films and sleep in the same small seats (which really aren't that comfortable). 

It's weird when you think about it like that, right?

Or how about travelling on the Tube, you get on it at rush hour and there are so many people (most of them in suits and rolex watches) who get on and get off and walk down the platform. When you're all crammed in the carriage it's easy to start wondering what people's stories are- where they come from, where they're going, what they're doing, who they know, what they're like, whether they make that same journey every single day..

And the chances are, you've just encountered bajillions of people who you are never going to see again. And the next day you'll walk past/bump into/ride the same bus as another set of bajillions of people who you'll never encounter again.

It's kind of like a bunch of keys- you know what they are, but you don't know their exact purpose, how they're different to the other keys.

All of these people we see but never know are most likely, in some shape or form, connected to us. They might know someone we know, or they could be a distant relative, or they could have the same job as us. 

But what does it matter? Because we'll never know. They're still strangers, just passing by.

Get out there, people.

Summer.

So, hello readers- if you're still there.

Summer is here! Finally. It always feels like we spend the whole academic year longing for summer to arrive, and now, here we are.

My last uni exam was on 20th May, and I'm on summer hols until the end of September, which is a ridiculously long time.. what am I meant to do now? It kind of always feels like an anti-climax; you go from being crushed under mountains of work and revision and the stress of exams and then WHAM suddenly you're released back into the world with absolutely no work to do.

I think it's strange how summer is regarded as the best time of year, but for me it's just a limbo, a gap..

I mean sure, there's the weather (ha) and it is really nice going away on holiday and exploring new places and meeting new people and being WARM for a change, but the majority of it is just not very exciting. Apart from the boredom, what I really don't like about summer is not seeing friends every day, like you do at school/college/uni. Everyone seems to go their separate ways until September.. it's peculiar! 

So with all this time and not much to fill it with, I decided to make a to-do list (though admittedly, this was mainly because I just like writing lists..) but anyway here are ma optionz:

1. find something to make out of the 1,500+ foil milk bottle tops I collected
2. do some reading in preparation for my 2nd year of uni *whimper*
3. make gothic-y candle holders out of pretty, old wine bottles
4. make fridge magnets out of beer bottle tops (there seems to be a bottle theme here..)
5. SELL THEM ON EBAY
6. learn new songs on my cajon
7. discover new music
8. do other stuff

Haha reading this post back, it seems quite gloomy and not summer-y at all.. sorry about that! Maybe I'll do a happier post about Summer next week.. WHO KNOWS EH

over and out.

Snow.

Seeing as it's snowing outside right now and everyone has been going bonkers on facebook/twitter over the snow, I thought it would be rather apt to write this blogpost about snow!

What I like about snow is that it makes everyone happy yaaaaaay :-) Sounds lame, but everyone gets excited when it snows. It always seems to be that no matter how much or how little it's snowing, everyone always gets their hopes up that there won't be any school/work/college/uni/other dull commitment the next day!

Obviously, the most pointless thing is snow that doesn't settle. You get wet and cold and there's nothing exciting at the end of it! Truly heartbreaking.

Rain after heavy snow makes me sad too, just think of all the time and effort the precious snow put in to settle and build up, and then the selfish rain comes and mushes it all up! Sad times.

However, when it snows good, it snows goooood.

Everything looks pretty when it's covered in snow, even pylons and terraced houses. The almost-luminous white blanket makes everything look new and clean and friendly. Snow is really weird when you think about it; it sticks to everything and turns it a different colour. It's just a lot of STUFF all over the place.

One of the many perks of snow is that one can wear wellies without looking weird. Wellies are the best and funnest type of shoe. Mine are black and sparkly so they're mega groovy, ohhh yeeeeeah. I would wear my wellies all the time if if were socially acceptable, but it's not. So I don't.

Out of the typical snow activites (snowball fights, making snow angels and tobogganing) I'd say it's between snowball fights and toboganning. Toboganning is really fun down my road at home, as it's really steep so you hurtle down and get a thrill out of the fact you could die if a car comes round the corner and squashes you at the bottom. But then there's always the trudge back up the hill, which aint fun baby. Hence it would appear that snowball fights win! I am actually a very sneaky person, so I like channelling my sneakiness through  creeping up on people and chucking snow at them/shoving it down their coat- muahahaha.. Also as a war studies student I feel it is my duty to take the art of snow warfare seriously.

So now as the snow outside is becoming more like sleet, imma go back to watching Miranda on BBC iPlayer.

SEE YA.

Lava Lamps.

Let us sit and ponder the psychedelic phenomenon that go by the name lava lamps.

So: what exactly are they?

My definition: A fancy jar containing coloured blobs which float up and down.
British Oxford Dictionary definition: A transparent electric lamp containing a viscous liquid in which a brightly coloured waxy substance is suspended, rising and falling in irregular and constantly changing shapes. (this seems to be a lengthier and posher version of my definition, which I formed before I googled the Oxford definition)

I have a lava lamp. I'd say it's larger than your average lava lamp. (ooh, cheeky.)
It's at least a metre and is pretty chunky, weighs a lot.

I like to think of my lava lamp as a multi-purpose lava lamp.
It has three functions:
1. it sits there and looks groovy, adding to the excitement of my room.
2. it is actually a form of light; cleverly living up to the "lamp" of "lava lamp".
3. heat is also provided from it (which is extremely useful when mum refuses to put the heating on until we're all wearing 5 jumpers and still feeling cold)

I kind of wonder who came up with the idea of lava lamps. Like whether they used to have actual lava in them, or what even the lava-y stuff is made from. It's kind of a weird concept to accidentally stumble across, but then again one doesn't set about intending to create these things (at least that's what I imagine it's like, I've never actually invented anything. though watch this space guys, who knows what the future holds eh?)

Also, d'you reckon it's dangerous to open a lava lamp? Because mine has a (very tightly screwed) cap, and I am really tempted to open it up and see if the blobby lava stuff is all squidgy. IT JUST LOOKS SO FUN TO SQUISH!

Another thing which I'm really tempted to do with my lava lamp is leave it on until something dangerous happens. It's strongly advised that you don't leave it on for more than 8 hours, but I wonder what happens if you leave it on for a lot longer than 8 hours.. will the bulb just blow? Or will the lava go crazy? Will it start bubbling wildly and crack the glass? Will it go into one massive blob? Or would the lava lamp just explode everywhere? That could be fun..

Until I discover the answer, I'll continue to be way too fascinated by coloured blobs moving up and down in a jar.

Library.

Hmm, I suppose a blogpost entitled "Library." probably doesn't make you want to read it, as libraries are not considered very exciting places, but if you're here reading this then you must have a vague interest in what I have to say about libraries- I respect you, stranger!

See, recently I have discovered that a library can actually be exciting (the fact that my university's library is open until midnight does play an important role in determining the fun-factor of my library trips).

Aside from the obvious thrill you get by going to the LIBRARY when it's DARK, there are many other reasons why I'd encourage you to dip into the crazy, wild habit of late-night library visits.
Though firstly, I must say that no late-night library sesh is complete without a bag of pic'n'mix to keep me company during the lonely hours of the night (if you've read my previous blogposts, you'll know I have an irrevocable love of pic'n'mix)

The library is at its most fun between 8pm and midnight, as there's hardly anyone there. That probably makes me sound like a proper loner, but it's kind of eerie when it's dark and no one is around. Especially in the sections where you have to go through so many doors you wonder if you're actually supposed to be going there, and in the places with low ceilings and shelves with turny thingies that you have to twist to move the shelves along.

Plus, going to the basement of the library to find books with titles such as The Age of Total War and An Intimate History of Killing feels so much more epic when the corridors are deserted and lighting is minimal. >:) 

I think people underestimate how comfortable the library can be. The sofas in the "purple room" of our uni library are deliciously comfy, and the warmth of the room makes it soooo cosy that it's almost dangerous when you're trying to get an essay done. However, fear not- for the library caters for all! Up in the cloudy heights of level 5, the drafty windows provide the perfect chill to keep you awake long enough for you to actually be productive (yeah, who knew such a thing was possible? crazy!) :O

Anyway, I'm feeling pretty guilty for not even being in the library whilst writing this, so imma get my stuff together and dramatically exclaim..

TO THE LIBRARY!

wild.

p.s. hide and seek would be so awesome in the library. just saying.

Compulsions.

Right, so my sister gave me the starting point for this blogpost. It’s just a little thing I always point out, so let’s see..

Basically, these bad boys are what I’m talking about:

Whenever I see these instructions, my first instinct is to start singing the theme tune of that old children’s TV programme ‘Come Outside’- "look up, look down, look all arounnnnnnnd, up in the air or on the grounnnnnnnd.."

It’s just one of those things I feel compelled to do! Kind of like how whenever someone says "what a beautiful day" I feel the need to respond with "we’re not scared", from the picture book We’re Going On A Bear Hunt. Do you get those sort of compulsions?

As I tend to sing a lot, like ALL THE TIME, what I also like doing is bursting into song when someone mentions a word or phrase that’s in a song. For instance whenever anyone says the word "sad" I start singing Sorry Seems To Be The Hardest Word (so saaaad, so saaaaaaad, it’s a sad sad situation..) or when people put "baby”"at the end of a sentence I like to sing Voodoo Child (babyyy babyyyy babyyyy, you are my voodoo child, my voodoo child..) Bit weird really.

It kinda works as a natural instinct, like when you touch something really hot you always draw your hand away really quickly. Although I suppose the singing instinct I’m talking about isn’t as practical and is quite unlikely to reduce any pain.

And some words just have to be spoken in a different accent, like saying "oh dear" only has the full effect when spoken in an Indian accent. However, this crazy way of living doesn’t make life easy. The other day we were getting a taxi home and I didn’t have the correct amount of change so I (quite loudly) said "oh dear" in an Indian accent, forgetting that the taxi driver was Indian..  I also said it quite loudly in the Asian food aisle in Tesco, which meant I had to run away with my trolley SHARPISH.

See, these instincts are serious business!

Speaking of serious business, I just made the mistake of getting into bed and turning my electric blanket on when I should be doing actual stuff.. meh, maybe I’ll do some sleeping instead

Farewell!

(so long, farewell, auf wiedersehen, goodnight, I hate to go and leave this pretty sight, do do do do do do do doooo, do do do do do doooooooo..)

Letters.

Recently, much to my delight, I've received a lot of post.
The post I get falls into these 4 categories: freebies (I send off for all sorts of things on a regular basis), university related information, rubbishy stuff, and letters.

Sadly, I rarely receive many letters :( In fact, I don't think anyone does, seeing as it's the 21st century so why would you spend time writing someone a letter when you could text/email/tweet/bbm/imessage/facebook/etc them much more quickly?

I love the novelty of writing and receiving hand-written things in the post from people, I don't know why, but I just do. It's also kind of nice knowing that someone has actually taken the time to sit down and focus on writing to you, instead of quickly typing a few words whilst doing a bajillion other things at the same time.

Myself and the group of friends I made on holiday have all decided that we're going to write to each other on the first of every month, which is SO EXCITING! Seriously, sending letters is the way forward. I'd love to have a pen pal! I once had a French email pen pal, which was okay, but the fact it was email not post and the fact that the French girl stopped emailing me back after the third email meant the experience wasn't quite as fun as I'd hoped.

I suppose the reason why people don't write to each other anymore as a means of communication is because of all the other faster and more convenient ways of contacting someone. Our postman is so unreliable, he usually comes around midday, but he has been known to drop the post off as late as 5pm. 5PM I SAY! Disgraceful. From work experience at a museum, I learnt that there actually used to be 2 postal deliveries a day, in the morning and afternoon. It's also ironic that the post used to get delivered so much more quickly than it does nowadays, as I learnt from reading Edwardian postcards in which grandparents wrote to the parents to reassure them that they would make sure the grandchild got home in time for tea that day. So maybe modern day methods of doing things aren't always the quickest and best they have been.

Getting letters and cards in the post makes me happy. Handwritten letters and cards especially.
Hence, blogreaders, I challenge you this week to write someone a card or a letter, as long or as short as you like :-)

I promise the unexpected (..or perhaps not so unexpected if you've had to ask them for their address) nature of your post will make them smile. Or just make them think you're weird. But most likely smile!

Happy writing!

Cruise.

So, as most of you will know, at the end of July/early August I went on a lovely cruise onboard the P&O cruise ship Aurora. I promised Maria (@MaxIsFlawlessx3) that I'd write her a blogpost about it, so here I am, writing a blogpost about it.
 
Here are the top 5 things she wanted me to write about:
 
1. Where I went
Well the cruise was around the Meditteranean, and we spent a day each ashore at: Malaga, Zakinthos, Dubrovnik, Venice, Split, Corfu and Oporto.
My favourite ports were probably Malaga and Dubrovnik. In Malaga I saw the most amazing authentic flamenco show; it was performed in quite a shabby little room, but the guitarist's constant, energetic strumming and the clapping of the assistant created such a buzzy and intense atmosphere. It was "muy sensual"! In Dubrovnik we wandered around the town, which is really beautiful as it consists of narrow, winding cobbled streets which are surrounded by the city walls. We stopped at Dubrovnik on the previous cruise we went on, and had sworn to go back to this pizza place called Mea Culpa which do the most HUMUNGOUS and delicious pizzas! So obviously, me being a lover of food, I had to revisit this place! And boy oh boy it did not disappoint. Seriously, you do not know the definition of good pizza unless you have been to Mea Culpa, which admittedly, is unlikely. MY MOUTH IS WATERING. I want this pizza again. Right now please.

2. Who I Met
I met a lot of people on this holiday, but I'll tell you about the best ones ;)
Everyday at dinner in the restaurant, we spoke to these two little old ladies on the table next to us, who were so sweet. They were sisters, aged 87 and 91! I couldn't believe how "with it" and giggly they were for such oldies! Definitely young at heart, I think everyone should be as smiley as they were.
My sister and I also befriended a group of people in the jacuzzi, who I am so so glad to have met! Strangely, two of them live about 10 minutes away from me, which was such a coincidence considering the ship had nearly 2,000 passengers and out of anywhere in Britain, they live so nearby! Anyway, Gemma, Jack, Mark, Dan, Leigh and Becky are awesome. Our jokes times included doing the mexican wave with one of the hilarious waiters, owning the dancefloor whenever 'Sexy and I Know It' or 'Walk The Dinosaur' came on, going bonkers at irish snap, running away from the "pedo in speedos" and taking over the sauna and kiddies playarea. I really miss these guys.

3. Music/Entertainment
Well, there were so many various clubs and bars on the ship, so music was never very far away. In fact, nothing was ever very far away. But anyway, in terms of music, there was this DJ called "DJ Danny Feelgood" (which is a fuuuuuunny name) who basically could play any song you wanted. Weirdly, the ship always seemed to be playing 'Ignition' by R. Kelly or 'Walk The Dinosaur'. There were shows every night too, singing and dancing type stuff, which was cool. Oh and the cinema! It played a different film each day, so we went to see Johnny English 2 (legendary) and The Hunger Games (bit weird/creepy).

4. Was I seasick at any point
NO :-) My sister was, but I was seasick-immune, oh yeaaaah! It's actually quite nice at night, it felt like you were being rocked to sleep like a baby. The best place to be when the ship was really rocky was in the pool; at one point the ship was so unsteady that it felt like you were swimming uphill, and being whacked around by these massive waves while half the pool's water was sloshing around on deck! Looking back, it probably wasn't exactly the safest of things to do, but it was fun so whatever.

5. How much I missed Meanwhile in Tinseltown
Tons! It feels weird being kept out of the townie loop for so long! But the pain was relatively soothed by constantly listening to them on my ipod, and using sharing a cabin with my sister to my advantage by forcing her to listen to them with me, mwahahaha >:)

So I hope this has shed some light on THE MOST AMAZING HOLIDAY EVER OF ALL TIME IN ALL OF ETERNITY! If you want to know more, just drop me a comment :-)

Adios.

Bath vs Shower, part two.

Right, you know my views on baths, so now I'm going to share my opinion on the bath's rival washing method (drum roll please) the SHOWER!

Showers are the efficient way of doing things. Hop in, turn shower on, wash, hop out. Having a shower is quick and probably more environmentally friendly. 'Practical' is the word I'd use to describe showers, especially during study leave. I kinda discovered that for me, one of the best ways to revise is to stick revision notes to the outside of the shower screen thing, so that I can revise whilst showering- nifty, eh? :-)

Also, showers are better in the way that you can't really fall asleep in them (unless you have the ability to fall asleep standing up) unlike how it is so easy to drift off to sleep in a nice, warm bath. And I guess you can't really drown in a shower, which is a good thing!

Now is it just me, or has anyone else ever wondered why showers in public places like gyms have translucent walls and curtains? Surely this makes it REALLY EASY for other people to perv on you when you're in the shower? Anyway, just a thought!

When it comes down to it, I would have to say that it's hard to pick a favourite between baths and showers, because they offer different things.
Bath = relaxing, comforting, ideal for winter. Shower = quick, practical, ideal for summer.

There, I hope you at least vaguely enjoyed reading my ramblings on the rivalry between baths and showers! PEACE.

Bath vs Shower, part one.

What do I prefer to have, a bath or a shower?

Today I'll share my views on baths.

What I love about having a bath is that it's relaxing. I find one of the best ways to unwind is to submerge myself in a beautifully warm bath until my fingers resemble prunes. Obviously, no bath is complete without a good book to read whilst in the tub. I suppose having a bath is more about the experience rather than serving a function (to clean oneself) because if you think about it, you're just lying in a pool of your own dirt. I've always thought of baths as advertised as being the more feminine option out of baths and showers, because when have you ever seen an advert involving a man relaxing in a bubble bath with a cuppa, surrounded by scented candles? Probably never. Which is silly, because I imagine men love baths as much as we do, and I know for a fact that at least some men have bubble baths, because Radox do the best smelling bubble baths aimed at men! (ah, the annual Christmas present for Dad- a bottle of Radox's Muscle Soak, just to make him feel good that he's actually got muscles to soak..) Sadly as a sensitive-skinned eczema sufferer, I cannot use bubble bath :( But I don't really mind. The main downside of baths is having to get out. There's always that traumatic few moments of emerging from the steaming hot water into the chilly air, whilst you desperately fumble around for your towel. Therefore the bath's drawback is that it is a relaxing experience which always ends on a not-so-relaxing note, and there's just something so much more depressing about pulling the plug and watching the water drain out of your bath then just switching off your shower.

Hence I do love a good bath, but someone needs to invent a way of making getting out of it way more appealing! Come back tomorrow to read my thoughts on the bath's rival: The Shower. I promise you it will be a THRILLING sequel! Very, very thrilling.

Cheerio folks, and happy bathing!

Nicknames.

The other day I was thinking about nicknames and the point of them, so I thought I'd try and turn that thought into a relatively interesting blogpost.

I've never really felt that I have a proper nickname (for example, a girl in my old form was called Isabella, but everyone called her Iggy) but I've realised that instead of having one nickname that everyone calls me, I have a ton of nicknames that all sorts of people call me.

Things close family call me: rose, rosebud, chumby, curly top, roza, sausage..
Things friends call me: rose, rosie pose, rosie posie, rosalita, rosie roo, roo, roozly, roozles, rosie roast potatoes, roslyn, roz, annoying cow, roxy, babs..
Quite a range!

If anyone's wondering where "roozly" came from, here's the explanation. Basically my friend used to call me "Roslyn" because she knows I hate that name, and one day we went to laserquest and when the helper/leader person asked what my name was for the scoreboard, my friend told her I was called Roslyn (*shakes fist*). However, the helper/leader person seemed to have great difficulty in understanding how to spell the name "Rosyln" even though we spelt it out clearly to her numerous times, and when she finally said she understood, we got the guns only to realise that my one said "roozly" on it! As 14 year olds we obviously thought this was hilarious, so the name has stuck ever since!

I don't know why, but I really love it when people call me by my name or by a nickname. That probably sounds really self-involved, but I so prefer it when people say "how are you, Rosie?" to just "how are you?" I guess including a name makes things sound more personal. Oh and when people I.. er.. 'have a soft spot for' say my name, I swoon. I swoon big time.

It's strange how just one word labels you and becomes so linked with you. For example, whenever someone mentions a person who has the same name as someone I know well, I always picture this person being discussed as looking like the person I know with the same name. Our name is also probably the word we write most; it is put on work, forms, letters, cards, labels, the internet.. everywhere! If someone recorded how many times I've written or typed "Rosie", it would be gerksquillions.

What I find most interesting about names and nicknames is the fact that although they form our own identity, the vast majority of the time they are given to us by other people. Our parents named us. Our friends give us nicknames. We don't choose what we are called.

And on that potentially philosophical note, I hereby end this blogpost :)

Rosie.

Potatoes.

After thinking long and hard about what to write this blog post about, I finally decided to write about something very close to my heart. Yep, you've guessed it (..or just read the title of this post) - POTATOES!


I'll start off by saying that I know I should probably be writing about something a bit more.. intellectual, but I'd rather write about potatoes :)


My love for potatoes has always existed. They are one of those things in life that just make me happy. Potatoes have even become part of my identity, with one of my friends nicknaming me "Rosie Roast Potatoes". Roast potatoes are one of my favourite forms of potato due to their crispy exteriors and fluffy insides, and they taste best when stabbed with a fork so that the gravy can soak in. Obviously chips are a winner too; the smell of chip shop chips ("chip shop chips"- that is so fun to say!) is the best smell on the planet, and squishy chips beat crispy chips any day! Mexican potato wedges are always a temptation. On one day during Soul Survivor I ate nothing but potato wedges with salsa (six bowls of wedges, to be precise). Whenever we visit family in Northern Ireland, we always have to bring home a stash of potato bread, which is perfect toasted with ketchup (as in toasted and then dipped in ketchup, because how can something actually be toasted in ketchup? now there's an idea.). If you've never heard of or tried potato bread before- DO IT :) and thank me later. Potato waffles and potato smiley faces (McCain do the best ones) are one of those things that just remind me of primary school and childhood summers in my friends' gardens. Though that is not to say waffles and smiley faces can only be enjoyed by primary school kids- because I had some the other day, therefore they are perfectly justified! I would also like to take this opportunity to ask the question: is there a difference between new potatoes and boiled potatoes? Because I've always thought of them as being the same thing, or are boiled potatoes the cooked version of new potatoes? Who knows. Oh and we can't forget mash potato, which is another form of potato that goes best with gravy (and veggie sausages). I've never seen the appeal of smooth mash though, for me the best mash is LUMPAAAAAY! Probably the most comforting potato is the jacket potato, because ya can't beat a piping hot spud filled with melted cheddar, oh yeahhh.


So those are my thoughts on potatoes, and I hope you now have a clearer idea of why I love them so much! And I also apologise if you are now sat there thinking, "why have I just wasted some of my life sat here reading about why some chick likes potatoes?"


Spread the potato love, people.

Welcome.

So. My first blog.
I thought it would make sense to introduce myself in a hopefully interesting way, so here it goes!

My name is Rosie and I'm 18 years and 14 days old. I have curly hair that you could happily compare to some sort of afro/mane. I love potatoes and retro roller skates and the smell of old books. I have an immature sense of humour but I get serious when it comes to correct spelling and grammar. All the books I own are ordered alphabetically according to title and I love watching cookery programmes. Caramel lattes are my weakness; I consider the local Costa to be my second home (it's got to that stage where the baristas don't even need to ask what I want..!). Whenever I go to the cinema I will, without fail, buy pic'n'mix beforehand, and it's actually pretty embarassing because I always get served by the same guy on the till and we have this unspoken understanding that I definitely won't be needing a receipt but I will definitely need a carrier bag (so that I can spread out all the sweets on my lap once I'm seated in the cinema so that I can organise them into piles according to type- I promise you I don't have OCD!) I'm a happy person with a layer of shy on the top but a deep layer of weird underneath- apparently it's not normal to eat bubble bath or sing loudly in public... who knew?! I'm known for my knack of ALWAYS knowing how and where to get free stuff, ranging from jelly beans to Spanish lessons on a CD-ROM. My favourite drink is hot water (way better than tea) and it seems I have a tongue made of metal because I can drink the water straight after the kettle has boiled. Oh and my favourite band is Meanwhile in Tinseltown, in case you didn't know (but if you follow me on twitter, you definitely will know!)

So... that's me! I promise you the next blog will be about something worthwhile.. possibly.
Thank you for reading :)