Thursday 15 December 2011

It's that reflective time of year.


Its December 15th. It's that reflective time of year. The time when everyone seems to look back on what they've achieved or what they haven't achieved. When people start thinking about what they want to change about themselves.

I've got a few regrets this year.

The biggest thing I regret this year is going back with a guy after a night out. I've never had a one night stand and we didn't do anything but it still made me feel vile the next day. It still made me feel like I'd sold myself short.

I just don't know how people do it. I mean, I did kind of like this guy but not enough to have ever considered going back with him.

And in NOT sleeping with him I still landed my self the 2.10 am texts. When there's clearly no girls left in the club taking his fancy. What does that make me? A last resort booty call? JOG ON.
It makes me part angry, part offended, part completely bloody moronic for even thinking of going there.

The strange thing is rather than thinking, ' Oh man I got him completely wrong what a d-bag' I'm thinking ' Oh shit he's got me completely wrong, why am I such a d-bag?'. Weird that.

The crux of it is that he obviously has no respect or me. And in not falling out of a club and onto his penis I think I DO deserve a bit of respect. So I shouldn't have gone back there. That is a lesson learnt. And I'm pretty good at learning from my mistakes.

In other news I've had a really good week this week. Biki has been down and oh my life there has been some mischief . Two highlights probably being that I snogged a 34 year old and Biki smooched a just turned 16 year old. Considering these are the parts I'm willing to share with the world you can only imagine what I've been banished from telling you.

The week's consisted of drinking and then lying in bed all day. I've now got extremely itchy feet and need to get out of the house. But the queen of slug castle (Biki) is stitched to the bed.

I hope 2012 will be as good at 2011. I've had a really great year. I know exactly where I want to be and I know what I've got to do to get there. Nailing this dissertation needs to be up there at the top of that list. Graduating preferably also up there.

Maybe next year I'll try and be more ladylike. I make this resolution every year but I never really follow through with it. I doubt there's any point in even making that pledge. I like camping, baggy jumpers, rock music and I hate wearing make-up. In order to fulfil my new years resolution I've got to pretty much change everything about my self.

Maybe it will just come with time. And I have plenty of time. I'm 20, the world is my oyster.
Also SO SO SO excited to become an aunty!! YAAAAY BABY!

That's all for now
Jojo xxx



Saturday 19 November 2011

Hand Grenades Humiliation and Hangovers.


Last night. Wow. Just wow.
What began as me being persuaded to come to pre-drinks for a friends birthday turned into what I can only describe as a black hole of embarrassment.

If I were to explain the night in 5 words they would be:

Vodka
Merlot
Jaeger
Falling
Sick

If I were to explain today in 5 words they would be:

Today
Has
Been
No
Fun

Firstly, I should point out that I am NEVER sick, like never (obviously that is a lie because I was sick, but I mean I'm hardly ever sick) and it transpires that I was sick last night. Twice. In the kitchen sink.

The fact that I A) didn't remember it and B) didn't believe it really does set the scene for the state that I was in. After half an hour of being out me and a pal found ourselves unexplainably on our own. How does that happen? How do you leave a pub with 9 other people and lose them in the space of what? 3 minutes?

I do not remember anything else. I think I was home by half twelve. How does that come to be?
How can that happen? Also, no-one ever thinks I'm drunk, apparently I'm quite normal when insanely mullered. This should be a blessing and I am glad that I don't suffer from the humiliating photo tagging but it also means everything I say or do is perceived to be level headed choices.

Today I have done nothing but whine and gag and act irrational. I fell asleep in my housemates bed mid conversation. I've drunk enough water to fill a bath. I haven't washed. I smell like tequila and vomit. It's now nearly midnight and I am still inconsolably ill.

No more drinking until Graces birthday. Also very excited for Dublin this weekend to see Howza and to see Barbie on Thursday. Hmm...I can't imagine being able to get away with not drinking this week.

My soul just shrivelled like a grape-to-raisin transition at the thought of bloody Guiness.
And to add insult to injury today it was assumed by my peers that I had a one night stand last night. Because that is just so my style. (sarcasm)

JOG ON I DO NOT HAVE THE ENERGY.

Oh goody my shoes are mouldy again. I just love damp. Really, it is so incredible. Who knew how fast it can breed and spread to all my possessions. It's times like this I wish I still lived at home. What I would give for a warm room and mould free footwear.

Grumpfest over.

That's all for now

Jojo xxx

p.s never go spinning 5 days in a row and then wear heels, as if I wasn't like Bambi on ice as it is. My knees continued to buckle all evening. It's just such a hard life.

Monday 24 October 2011

Would I Lie To You?


Something has gone wrong somewhere here. Somewhere along the line men and women started to lie to each other. Now, I don't know why this happened, I don't know what silly sod thought it was a good idea and I can't attempt to imagine how much confusion it has caused over the years.

In my short life so far, it has made things far more complicated than necessary. Here I shall investigate.

WHY LIE?

The answer to this question depends on what sort of lie your telling. For example, if you're pal has just had a truly hideous hair cut, you might want to make her feel better, considering it's too late to do anything about it.
This is a pity-lie or a compliment-lie. In very few circumstances is this type of lie acceptable. You may be making her happy in the short term but in reality, she's going to know if it's a shit barnet. Also she will think you are stylistically-confused and will never trust your opinion again.

DRUNK LIES

I lie when I'm drunk, I think a lot of people do this partly because they feel their lives aren't interesting enough already. Telling someone you own your own business/you're a model/you're a professional skateboarder is not okay. It will always leave you in sticky situations. For example, when it transpires they know your house mate.

THE OUTCOME

Lying is hard because if you get found out you look so twattish it really is not worth it. Maybe you'll have less 'stories' for I 'have never' but at least you wont have to keep a note of all the lies you tell and try to remember the elaborate details of each anecdote.

WHO LIES?

Everyone. whether it's excuses, white lies, drunk lies or just trying-to-make-yourself-look-cool-lies. We all do it. All I'm saying is we should try and control the extent and quantity of them.So what you're late. What if you just bloody forgot? What if you slept through your alarm? SO BLOODY WHAT? You are only human.

LIES YOU ARE TOLD

Friends lie when they say you don't have bad points.
Parents lie when they say they will not Facebook stalk you.
Boys lie when they say they wont judge you if you fuck on the first date.
Girls lie when they say they don't like attention.
I lied when I said I liked last years Christmas present from my Nanny. (herb themed notebook? where do you even buy this stuff?!)
AND
You lied when you said it wasn't you passing wind in class (sometimes you just can't hold it in)

Anyway, what I'm getting at is everyone does it but why do we lie about some stuff that is just better off said truthfully?

WHEN THE TRUTH SHOULD COME OUT

1) "It's not you its me" -No it is not. It is you, because I don't fancy you any more, how can it be me? How can I make me not find you attractive any more? I can't, it's you. It's just harsh to confuse someone like this. Give them closure, spare them your pity and just tell them why. There's someone else, shit happens. They'll get over it.

2) "I'm not drunk"- You are, you have been drinking and now you are acting weirdly, you are drunk.

3) "I'm always here for you"- this is a really common lie. Yes, you can offer support to a friend whenever you are free, but sometimes you aren't. Sometimes you are in meetings or at work, or you just ignore the call.

4) "I'm never drinking again" - BULL SHIT

5) "I would never lie to you!" - You just did.

I could go on but it's really tedious.

I don't get it when fat people lie about how much they eat. You cannot be that big if you're only eating salad.
Oh, and lies don't have to be in the form of words. Oh no, having a chocolate stash under your bed and only eating leaves in public is lying.
It's pathetic. Everyone likes chocolate. Pretending to your house mates that you didn't eat 5 Mars bars alone in the dark haven of your room last night doesn't mean it actually didn't happen. If you want to be thin just stop fucking eating so much shit and go to the gym. SIMPLES.

That's all for now

Jojo xxx

P.S when someone says you look tired/poorly they just mean you look shit. You look like an uglier version of yourself. You are not attractive today.






Sunday 25 September 2011

Freshers, Final Year and Fuck Ups

j
So here we are, it's all happened so fast. Our final year is upon us after 2 sets of getting fat over Christmas, getting thin over Summer and getting wasted in between.

I feel strangely reminiscent today, like I've suddenly understood that these years may be the best of our lives. And that we'll look back at them with regrets that we didn't savour every second. But heinsight is such a tricky thing. Who knows if today will be important or if it will slip through our memories without leaving a trace? You can't live always trying to squeeze fun out of everything. Trying to make every moment comical or interesting or dramatic. Sometimes the most simple and even boring things are the ones that leave the most beautiful marks.

The end of the first week of freshers is upon us and we have all failed to muster up the excitement and sheer stamina of a first year. We are no longer able to do two maybe three nights in a row. We have some reservation within us now. We know we'll suffer for it and sometimes that puts us off.

I can't say I've had the best week. It's been a stew of emotions for me. Coming back to reality after Summer and London has been really hard to get my head around. Seeing my ex for the first time since the split in May is strange. He's someone I've never known in a platonic way so trying to figure out the logistics of this new situation is hard. I'm so used to kissing him. And I don't regret the split, it's just hard getting to grips with this friendship we've got to have now which is a binary opposite of what I'm used to.

It's exciting being in my new house with my pals and I know we are going to have such a good year. We are all so different.

Soph is the Essex girl, glamorous, giggly and ditzy, Ruby the bizarre mother type who somehow still manages to get paraletic after a few drinks but has the biggest heart in the world. Grace an introvert with a flare for music, who can spend days at a time in her 'cave' as we've now called it. And me, it's always strange trying to perceive yourself as others do. I think I'm probably the brash one of the group with a dry sense of humour and a love for everything odd. but who knows, I could be the boring one who farts a lot. Which is also accurate, worryingly.

If I want one thing from this year, it's to feel confident and happy. To do well in my dissertation and for all my friends to be at peace with themselves and the world. Oh and to sack off twat-ish arseholes.

Also I'm so out of touch with the dating world. I mean I don't want to be dating but I feel like I need to kiss a boy in a club. I don't know why, but everyone seems to know how to do it and I have no idea. Like I've tried smiling at people but I must look really stare-y and creepy cause nothing comes of it.

I actually saw a gorgeous man in a club last week and he came over to dance with me and I just started sweating profusely and I couldn't speak. He went to hold my hand and he pretty much slipped off me I was so clammy.
I'm so nervous, I don't know what to say or do. I'm not a grinder that's for sure. fuck knows what will come of me. I might just be a lezza; at least girls are interesting.

I like my house and I love my room. It's so cosy and lovely. I want a picture of Pembrokeshire on my wall on canvas. There's a perfect space for it and I think it will look gorgeous.

I start work tomorrow in a pub nearby and I'm excited to be making some sort of money. Everything I earn I'm going to try and save for travelling with my gorgeous friend Tess. I love her so much and can't wait to see the world with her.

I have lots to look forward to this year. I'm going to Barcelona with Mum in April as a belated 21st birthday present ( I'm a February baby) and I'm going to visit my pal Howza in Ireland who I bloody miss. I'm hoping for a visit from Jammy and a few others. Biki is coming in December before she embarks on another wander round the world.

I have so many amazing people in my life and I'm so, so grateful. All of my close friends have such different and amazing qualities, but they are all so loyal. I've only recently discovered how important it is to know that your friends will put their heads under a train for you. And that you would do the same for them.
I know I'm going to grow old surrounded by so many colourful and interesting people. And that's why being in 'love' or finding 'The One' has become so trivial to me. I've got more than that. I have the love of all my best friends and that's more than a lot of people will ever get.

I hate that I upset a certain chap this Summer. He's been a pal of mine since we sat by each other in Mr. Swancott's chemistry class and I really don't want to lose his friendship. I hope it will be fixed in time.

That's all for now.

JoJo xxx


Monday 12 September 2011

The Big Smoke


I've just begun my second week in the great city of London doing work experience at Loaded magazine. I have really enjoyed it so far, it's just the heat on the tubes and the way that everyone's strangers to each other. I miss human contact. I miss Wales and the friendly atmosphere and the smiles. I miss the accent. I miss boys with curly hair, it's such a gorgeous Welsh trait.
I miss the sea. A lot. I miss the smell of salt and sun cream and cow shit.

London has been a real experience this time as I'm staying at my lovely friend Jane's house and she's not here. I feel strangely safe here though, tucked away in the single room. Maybe that's why; its so small it feels like your have a cwtch.

It's fashion week here and now I know why people jump in front of things. Coming home from work today I was stood on the tube between 4 nigh-on 6ft models, all approximately the width of neck. I was wearing leggings. I have stubby legs as it is. I felt rotund. It's the only word that properly creates the image of how I felt. ROTUND. This is no life to live. I scurried off at my stop like a little piggy and swore never to eat again.
I'm starting to understand why people love the city though. It's always busy, there's always something to look at or listen to. You're never truly alone here.

I'm dying to get back to Bournemouth though, my little cosy cave room is waiting for me and I want to see my housemates and my friends and my gorgeous van.

I can't wait to get to the gym, to be proud of my body again, to be able to bear myself in pants in the mirror again.

I like this cover. I hope you do too. Such a gorgeous voice


That's all for now

Jojo xxx





Tuesday 16 August 2011

Yo Yiggety.


Last weekend I went to Boardmasters with three of my pals and it was just the best weekend ever. We got up to so much mischief and I laughed so much I lost my voice (no, really). I'm not gunna write some cliche 'what I did on my holiday' entry. I'm just going to say I had an amazing time, chilling and going mental at the same time. Has topped off this beaut of a Summer.

I really don't know why it's been so good, I've been working loads and I've still got no money 'cause of rent but I just feel so free and happy and simple.
Not as in window licker simple, as in just life is simple.
I've been with the friends that mean the world to me, who have no interest in drama or aggro. I've been on the beach loads had a few surfs, had a few drinks, had more than a few laughs.

I love only having to think about me and my close few. I love having the freedom to just go away for a day and not tell anyone where I am. I love being able to swim in the sea everyday. I love the simple things in life.

I've put on a shed load of weight since my gym membership ran out a few weeks ago but I don't care, I feel good.

My morning job is chamber-maiding, which in short means cleaning peoples shit stains off toilets and hand picking pubes from the shower cubicle floors. As you can imagine it's not ideal on any given day but with a hangover it is as close to Satan that I've ever been. WHY DO PEOPLE POO ON THE SEAT? Is it something people enjoy doing on holiday? Is there some breed of human who deem it as fun?? If there is, bring back the hollocaust.

No offence to Jews. I'm pretty sure they didn't deserve it the first time round.

In September I get to move into a house with my three best friends in uni. Our house is beyond small. We don't have a lounge/dining room, instead we have what would have been a tiny single room upstairs, about as far away from the kitchen as you could get. But I couldn't care less. We are paying cheap rates for south coast rent and we get to cosy up together in our own little girl world.

We are all but one single and I predict sexy men on the fridge within the first week of arriving. PENIS.

I've got work this evening and I feel like I belong in a wheelchair. My legs are fucked my back is fucked, my face has seen better days and my voice is nearly gone. Ah well Steamdog Millionaire (drunk) on Wednesday. Yeeewwwww.

My home bestie Biki has booked a one way flight to Asia and is heading back out into the world of magic mushrooms, riots and holes in the ground for toilets in January. I shouldn't be bothered really because I'm back in Bournemouth by September but I just don't want her to be so far away. She's been like my left boob this year: always there jiggling abound getting in the way. (please note: right boob does the same).
She's made me laugh so much and we never fall out, with us it seems to be so easy. Whether we're sat in silence drinking tea, crying with laughter on a walk or flailing about the streets of Pembrokeshire with a few too many shandies in us. (Biki actually drinks shandies because she is a LEGEND...?) we always seem to be having a sweet time.

Anyway best be off. No carbs start tomorrow otherwise I'm not getting a smooch all Summer. Which is apparently illegal in 20 year old female world. Although I've not exactly had my lips worn out so far this season. Enough! enough detail and inuendos. Just to clarify I meant face lips. Not...well... you know.

That's all for now.

Joan Of Arc.
xx
xx

Friday 22 July 2011

I DON'T WANOOO...


...go to work! I just don't wanoo. why is it that work is the one thing you will dread and yet is the one thing that rewards you for your input?

Other things that I DON'T WANOO do are:

1) have periods, and why should I have to buy tampons? It's not some consumer materialistic indulgence. NHS I say.

2) Think about the complex world of boys. I wish they would just know when to go away and when to come back.

3)Pay off my overdraft, it's just a ridiculous thing to have to do, isn't it?

4) Clean the bath before I get in it. just no.

5) Offer to make everyone tea when I'm making one. Although I do like it when I am not the one by the kettle.

6) Pay for my van that insists on breaking every other week.

7)Think about dissertations. *runs away screaming*

8) Did I mention hideous soul-destroying FUCKING PERIODS?!

Today could be categorised as dull-average. I saw Biki and I bought a tee-shirt bra (Zzzz) and a black top for work (WHAT IS THE POINT?!I didn't start work to spend my wages on things for work)
I also ate a jacket spud (boring peoples food) and sent a letter to my Nannah and Grandad. Social butterfly eh?

Me and Biki are going to a Spiritualist fair tomorrow. Laugh all you want. I love that stuff. I hope someone tells me life will all make sense one day and that my bank will decide that, as I am such a loyal customer, they will write off my overdraft.

For now I am going to stomp around being irritable, irrational and whiny. Because I am allowed. Can you guess why? CAN YOU??

I DON'T BUGGERING WANOO GO TO WORK AND BE FRIENDLY TO ANYONE.

Jojo. (no kisses. HA)

Monday 18 July 2011

Trust, Suspicion and Strip-club finance.


I believe I may be both too trusting and too suspicious of people.

An ex once told me I found faults in everyone. I do, I think its human nature to have flaws, hell I know I do. But is it so bad to notice them in someone else?

Maybe I just play a little game in my head like Minesweeper. Trying to avoid the people who's flaws will blow up in my face and holding onto the safe ground of people who's flaws simply make them a little unreliable or give them bad taste in men.(most of my closest friends hold this flaw, why bother with some twat who treats you like shit on a regular basis or sleep with someone in the hope that it will mean they wont get bored of you?)

Trust is a tricky thing- until not so long ago I still held onto the belief that everyone has basic principles of wrong and right, and that they would stick by that. I would trust that a stranger would tell me if I dropped a tenner or if I had my jumper inside out.
Nuh-uh, not true.

I do still believe that a secret should be a secret and being a good person is a priority in most peoples lives. I don't think people will scam me, I don't think the tube is unsafe, I don't believe that I'll be raped and murdered on my way home from work. I just cant believe it.

If I start believing stuff like that I'll become a crazed paranoid maniac, flinching at a door closing or a noise in the house somewhere. And what sort of a life is that?

I don't know where this is going, I just know I feel a little off. Maybe its lack of sleep. Maybe it's a lack of money, maybe it a lack of physical contact. Maybe it's Pembrokeshire.

Pembrokeshire has a way of being both breathtakingly beautiful and being sneakily depressing. Pembrokeshire's little claws sneak under your skin without you even noticing. Then one day, although the beaches still make you feel like your whole body is drinking them eagerly, you sit in your bed at night and feel restless, like you're doing nothing everyday. Like your swimming against it's tide. Everyone here feels it, I believe. But not everyone acknowledges it.

It's a dull blanket of nothing that starts to hang over your head, and then its in your hair and then its inside your brain, it's sticky inky substance clinging to the inner workings of your core, masking itself as something else, tiredness maybe, or financial problems or lack of sex.

My vans in the garage, radiators blown again. I'm waiting with fake optimism for the quote to fix it. I had a dream it cost £6,000. I had a dream I worked in a strip club to pay it off.

I don't quite know what I'll do. I need the van to get to work but I need to work to pay my rent and start reducing my overdraft, paying for the van may do more damage to my financial situation than good.

I miss having someone to cuddle me. I miss being naked with someone.

Sunday 19 June 2011

And oh, those Summer Naiiii-iiiii-ts


Unfortunately my life is not as exciting as this title may lead you to believe.
Since packing up my stuff from my little house in Bournemouth last Monday I've been back in Cardiff at my Dad's.

Since I've been here I've done nothing but go for runs, eat and read.
So nothing interesting has happened really. But I do feel really rested and calm. I'm excited about going back to Tenby tomorrow to see my pals, my Muma and to get working and making some money.

The other night I was sat drinking red wine with my step-mum and we got talking about one night stands.
I've never had one and find it a very strange concept. It's quite scary having someone see you naked.
She was shocked that I hadn't spent my two years at uni having wild nights out followed by wilder mornings in.
I don't know if it's just me but I worry that, even if I never see that person again, they'll think little of me- that I'm easy.

My friend who went travelling last year told me she had her wild times out there, with people who she could only really have one night stands with before she moved along to another country. She thinks it's important for me to have a few aswell.

Do I need to loosen up? I feel like I might leave uni, meet a man, get settled and then one day wake up and have itchy feet. That I'll be itching to experience this disposable way of sex.

I'm newly single. It is, I suppose, the ideal time to try that sort of thing. But I just feel like it isn't the right time. Like I might regret it all.

Oh I so don't want to turn into my mother. Being so wary about things like this, keeping all men at 7 arms lenghts.

6 is my magic number and I think that is a respectable place to be at 20. I don't particularly want to get to ten, ever.
Is that realistic? Is that a stupid prudish way to look at life? I never want to be embarrassed about my number. I never want to be tempted to lie.

Maybe I need to try and get over the fear of what boys will think, what boyfriends will think when that fateful question is asked and just try and figure out whether I want to give it a whirl or not.

That's all for now. Happy Fathers Day to all the papa's in the world!

Jojo xxx

Tuesday 7 June 2011

Summer Ball Golden Rules


Summer Ball is approaching here in Bournemouth as it is in many other universities accross Great Britain.
I'm no old-time pro, but I'd like to think last year taught me few things.
So here's a beginners guide to making the biggest event of the Uni Calendar, the best one of your year.

1) Eat a fuck-tonne of pasta at around 1pm if you want to survive a 20 hour drinking sesh.

2) Bring spare pants, accidents happen.

3)Bring about £50, it might seem a lot but keep a tenner in your kegs for emergencies and that way you wont hit a downer when you realise 43 pence wont but a triple vodka Red Bull.

4) Bring gum (vomit happens)

5) Do fancy dress the way you want to. If you spend the night unhappy with your outfit your night is damned.

6) Bring a jumper, an unoriginal toga outfit wont keep you warm at 4am.

7) Bring make-up top-ups. I don't care what Rimmel say, that shit isn't 15hour proof.

8) Be wary on rides, if you don't feel like you're gunna puke, chances are someone else does.

9) Be low maintenance, you don't need a new outfit, this isn't X-Factor.

10) Ice bags are perfect for sneaking alcohol in. fill it with spirit of choice, chuck it in your pants/bra/socks (carefully)- liquid goes in but you have to jab it to get it out- no leaks.

There are more, but 10 seems like a good idea. Also try not to sleep anywhere, there will be thousands of students on their baddest, cheekiest behaviour so if your friends aren't around, someone else will tea-bag you.


Good Luck! Don't be a mess- no-one will like you and everyone will sack you off next year. You fucking loser.

All for now

Jojo xxxx

Saturday 28 May 2011

Riding Solo.


Singlesville is a strange place.
After being committed for over a year (unthinkably long for my previously commitment-phobe self) I'm back in the big scary world of rejection, bum grabs and nights alone.
I think it may be insensitive to go into details about the actual break up so I'm gunna stick with it was mutual, it was civil and there was a lot of tears (from me).

Being on my own has not been at all as I'd expected. Well, I did expect to be sad and I did expect to be lonely and those expectations are now reality but I did think I'd get that 'free' feeling. The 'single and ready to mingle' type of feelings. But I haven't.

I've felt scared shitless of lots of things including just going to uni and having to talk to people about it and explain and smile and laugh along like I normally would. But all the while I've been undergoing intervals of fighting back tears and zoning out and just wanting to be in my bed with the light off slowly saturating my pillow with salty tears.

That sounds ridiculously dramatic but I'm being honest. The first day I came home and cried for about 6 hours. Who knew that was possible?

I've felt panicked a lot of the time. Panic of whether it was the right decision or how I was ever going to brave night clubs again. The jungle of Singleville is scarier than I could have predicted.

I know that things will be easier and its not like I just cry and sit listening to Dido playing a tiny violin to myself all day. (although I did put Dido on for a while and then realised I was the cliche of all cliches, clutching photos of myself and him gasping through snot filled sniffles.)

I've been excited about going home for the Summer, seeing my mummy and my friends, rediscovering my love of bizarre fashion and reading through diaries in bed with endless amounts of tea and guilty pleasure television (Glee, Gossip Girl, Big Cook Little Cook etc).

But I went out last night and I felt strange. I over-compensated for my fears with alcohol resulting in slurring and making new best friend's with virtually anyone in the toilets. I danced with boys but not in a sexy way, in a childs birthday party way, and even that I felt guilty for.

Our pals Turks and Ross came back and we played drinking games with straight rum and I bent Ross' ear off whining about the break up and god knows what else for about and hour and a half and then went to sleep.

My pubes are spiralling out of control by the way, I only noticed this morning, but I know I wont be wanting any action for a long time so I'm planning a trim and not a full on session. (partly because I'd have to put aside a whole day for the job)

I went for dinner with my grandparents tonight and halfway through vomit jumped up my throat, my mouth filled with saliva and I was unbearably hot. SHIT. Hangover hell was about to erupt into my butternut squash soup.
I sat very still and sipped some water, completely ignoring whatever it was I was being told and I felt it slowly subside back into my stomach. Phew. Saved.

It's now nearly 2am and I'm not quite over my hangover. But I have had a bit of an epiphany.

I think I need to stop thinking 'I wish he was here' 'I wish was allowed to call him and text him whenever' and start realising that I'm ridiculously lucky that I've still got my best friend, even though he's not my boyfriend any more and unlikely to want to resume best pal status any time soon.
I've gone through a break-up that could have ended horribly but instead there was no hard feelings but cuddles and talks of good times.

And although I'm feeling like I'm in a foreign country, naked and with no map at least there's signs of life and the hope that there are better things to come.

My relationship was full of love and trust and laughs and I don't think I'd rather go out in flames, kicking and screaming. I'm quite happy to let the feelings slowly fade away knowing that I will always have fond memories.

Cringe-ville is over. And I haven't done a soppy emotion spilling blog in a long time, so no complaining! And try to snigger and scoff discreetly.

That's all for now
From the unstable, shit scared, but ready to face the music, Jojo xxx


Saturday 14 May 2011

The riddle war with the (almost) next door.







Hullo again!




Today I am writing a post about a strange and unexpected series of events which have commenced in the past 2 weeks.





I live with three girls. Daisy, Catrina and Holly. We don't talk to our neighbours because one side make too much noise and the other side we suspect to be a drug den/brothel.




A week or so ago we got an unusual arrival through our letterbox. It was a photo of a dog with crazed, rabies-esq eyes and on the back there was a riddle which read:




What starts with a T ends in a T and has T in it?

Return to no.28 with answer.




The girls seemed kinda creeped out but I thought it was really cool so we replied. I've got to be honest and say we did just google it, which is naughty but a lot less frustrating and time consuming. We posted back the answer and a new riddle in the a kinder surprise pod.




The following night we heard the letterbox go at about 1.am. This was not the postman. It was a second riddle.




It read:
What is greater than God, more evil than the devil, what rich people want and poor people have?

Return to no.28, stop using google and you'll get a reward.



This was exciting, yet creepy.



I should explain that 28 is two doors down from us and we have never met nor seen them.




We replied:


answer: nothing.

We didn't use google and we want out reward but only if it's nice.



And we sent a new one.



We got a reward. A surprising one. I wont tell you what it was just to add tension and enigma.




So now we have sent them 2 large mars bars with note attached:



Here is your treat, hope you like saturated fat.

Love Dianne, Camilla, Joan and Holly (we want them to think we are well posh)







So now we await a reply. its all very exciting and we hope to organise a BBQ unveiling our true identity before the year is over.






Meanwhile in my life:



Today I had my first day volunteering at Barnardo's. It was actually really fun. I got to look at cool things, press buttons, use a cool sharp gun thing to attach labels. Quite a hoot.




Made me feel good too.



I think charitable people are misunderstood. Everyone makes out that we're losers who don't have anything better to do than to care about other people.



It's not the truth.




We are selfish. We do charitable things to make us feel better about stuff.
such as:



Buying a new dress

Buying a takeaway
Stealing someones Biro
Swapping the sticker prices on a pair of shoes (GRACE DEAN)

Eating your friends last rolo

Laughing when someone falls over
Western Guilt.

Not passing exams

Not revising for exams

Not going to lectures on which exams are based.

Picking your nose.

Making dead baby jokes.



All these things are bad.bad,bad,bad.


So don't be fooled by fundraising, marathon running, penny giving, big issue buying monsters like myself.


See through the kindness and into the soul of the devil.



Too far. I'm actually alright.




That's all for now









Jojo xxx


I wrote this post listening to, but not doing: shorthand dictations.







Wednesday 27 April 2011

Lost in translation: Slang - Welsh V English




When I came to university in England I realised how different and confusing slang could become. I feel I've almost grasped all of it now but I still get a dodgy look every now and again.




I've decided to compile a list of translations to show you lot how bloody confusing your life can become when you have lived in Wales most of your life.




I will include words and phrases which I thought were English but when I say them people look at me like I'm a witch.








Welsh -English




Scram- Scratch with malicious intent



Pile on- Bundle (?!)



Meathead -Hench



Butt -Pal/Mate/Chum



Nos Da - Night Night



Hwyl (H-oil) -Bye



Pam ? -Why?



Now in a minute -Soon



Yachi Da! -Cheers/bottoms-up/chink chink.



Ych-y-fi -Gross


Where to?- Where (the to has no use)



Bangen -Awesome



Steaming Weasels- Drunk skanks




I'm sure there's more and I will add them in due time.



That's all for now



Jojo xxx








Thursday 21 April 2011

Easter = Brawls re: TOWIE



Wow it’s been a while since I’ve had a post out. It’s been such a crazy few weeks with work and adventures and visits.

I’m currently sitting on a train from Tenby to Bournemouth, and since it’s on track to take me almost eight hours I’ve been tackling some uni work and made some semi-productive lists. Being back in Pembrokeshire was so nice even though it was short lived.

I trekked down in aid of my dear pal Jane’s 20th birthday. Birthdays are the rare occasions when us girls are all pulled together in one place for a night or so to cause some havoc. And Saturday was no exception.

I arrived at Jane’s at around half 8 and we promptly got a taxi to the pub to have some pre-birthday-meal drinks. This portion of the evening is for general catch ups and taking the piss out of each others lives/accents/outfits.

Next we headed to the notorious Kook-a-ba, our favourite restaurant (and the thing I miss the most when I’m back in uni, sorry pals.) where we all ate man sized meals of steaks and ribs with wine.

We immediately got ourselves into a bit of bother when we started the mandatory gossip catch-up on old school friends who are caught up in scandal. Unfortunately the table behind us were relatives of said scandal members and we were politely told to keep it zipped. Cringe-o-rama.

Lucie, a particularly indignant pal of mine was not impressed and in a drink-fuelled state began claiming how her whole night was ruined and that she refused to come out because some arse hole on the next table had been rude. All that changed of course when we got taxis and all seven of us jumbled in the cars with an entire field of livestock in our guts.

Tenby was awesome; it was so busy and with all the right people in my opinion. It was like our entire school year had gathered in a subconscious reunion (only the good ones though) and I felt truly at home again. It was warm outside, my feet didn’t hurt and no-one tried to force shots on me. Hurrah!

We went to POW/Prince of Wales/Prince of Darkness/ Pile of Wank and it was so hot I swear my clothes were wet with sweat and my only thoughts were to get to the bar to re-hydrate/ hi-jack the ice machine. The no windows, no air-con combination must be a business stint and the staff must have ice packs in their undies or have been trained in torture chambers to be able to just stay alive in such humidity and stench.

After chuck out at POW we went on a rampage of jumping on peoples backs, crazy dancing, head banging and general zoo-esque behaviour before heading to the taxi office.

Uh-oh...

The taxi rank was a perfectly peaceful place when we arrived but within ten minutes I was asked by a man if ‘they’ were my friends, I turned around to see the girls in what can only be described as a brawl that resembled a washing machine. There were people leaping about and throwing fists, shoes flying off and hair being pulled in a space no bigger than a disabled toilet cubicle.

Before I could really work out what was going on Alys proceeded to rip a girl’s tee shirt off in a way that meant it could never be worn again. So, all my friends, two men and one girl with her tits out were all flailing around in a sea of screams and limbs right before my eyes.

The taxi-rank guy looked extremely harassed himself and soon the police had arrived; dawdling around not really doing anything as usual. Seriously, Pembrokeshire police well and truly deserve their reputation for being shite. People were asking to make statements as it transcribed that the girls were talking about The Only Way is Essex when boob girl pounced, assuming it was an insult (she’s from Essex).

The po-po (I’ve always wanted to say that but can’t pull it off in person) were sort of ignoring requests and sending people on their way. What the friggin’ hell was the point of them being there? To look like a fat hen night in un-slutty uniform outfits? If so then I would like to congratulate them on their success.

All in all a perfectly dysfunctional, yet entirely characteristic night out with my best pals. To everyone involved I salute you.

Here’s to the next one xxx

Sunday 27 February 2011

London, Loaded and Tube Terrors.


Last week I landed myself some work experience at Loaded Magazine. The one with the titties in.


The offices are based in London and I'm based in Bournemouth so I went to stay with my lovely pal Jane who's studying something scary in UCL.


When I got out at Waterloo on Friday that familiar feeling of fear hit me as the crowds of people pushed past me and surged forward. As I got through the barriers I saw Jane waving and flashing her massive trademark grin.


We tubed back to Euston, where she lives and I got the massive bag off my aching shoulders. Jane has a teeny tiny single bedroom and my bag on the floor meant the bed floated like an island in the room, the floor nowhere to be seen. Janes housemates were so nice and welcoming as well as having a decent sense of humour that is often so defect in females.


Saturday: After a less than comfortable sleep (with Jane's toe nails offending my nostrils) interrupted in the morning by traffic we hauled ass out of bed and headed to Portabello market, something I've wanted to do for a long time. I wasn't disappointed - it was so cluttered and it smelt like attics. There were so many beautiful things that I would have loved to add to the already garage-sale like items that reside in my bedroom.


Sunday: we went to Camden market and spent about an hour deciding what type of food to get before settling on chinese, with mexican a close second. The stalls were so amazing, some utterly tacky and some completely enchanting.





Monday: my first day at Vitality Publishing and I somehow managed to survive the tubes at rush hour. I must have looked like I was on speed- my eyes wide and my hair stuck to my face with sweat. At every stop there was a minute of panic trying to see where we were. At Old Street I departed taking out children and foreigners with my bag in a way that could only reinforce suspicion of a drug habit.





The week at Loaded was so fun, I basically got to look at hot girls all week and judge them in meetings. I wrote some articles, reviews and tit bits for the magazine and got free pizza. Most days the staff at Loaded head down to the pub for meetings so I went along and had a pint to make sure I was fullfilling my role properly.



Not bad conisdering the dire week I'd expected: reading press releases and making 23479 cups of tea/coffee for those above me.


The guys there are so funny and welcoming, I cant imagine a better place to work.


Now I'm back home and trying to piece back together the hole that is my bedroom, I've still got Esme's present here, over a week and a half late.





I also found a christmas card that my Nanny gave me to give to my stepbrother, I wasnt too bothered at first just intruiged at what the card was like (my Nanny is a genius in the card making department) and when I opened it there was a fiver in it. SHIT BALLS. I felt so bad. You see, my stepbrother (also named Joe) is my Dad's stepson. The nanny who sent the card is my Mum's Mum so it was a ridiculously nice and unnecessary gesture to send a card in first place. let alone with a fiver in it.





I sent it off now, re-sealed and with an apology for its lateness. Bad Jojo.





Today I went back to the gym and after a week in London eating carbs like they were about to become a class A drug, it felt more than overdue. I hate that oh-so-familiar stodgy, carbed up body feeling. It makes me feel so lethargic. But DANG it tastes good. It's better than chocolate on your period (note to males: chocolate is a physical NEED,not a want, whilst on your period - like oxygen/C.O.D/porn is for you guys.)





Weeeeee Glamping soon and then ESPANOL to see my mummy. I miss her a lot.


In the mean time me and Twosy are gunna get so freaking thin and sexy and we will parade round uni in our underwear every day, even the rainy ones - because we will be so proud of our work. Legs Bums and Tums tommorrow. I wish I didn't only sweat through my face when I work out. It's truly ridiuclous the colour my head goes. My face is so red and wet and scary looking. I'm definately not one of those girls who look really hot and athletic working out. I'm more of a labour-induced rhino rhino with blusher on.


Right enough of that. Need to get my CV done and do some bladdy shorthand. booo.



Jojo



xxx



I wrote this listening to The Strokes.

Oh and also...this is TOO funny.

http://http//www.youtube.com/watch?v=l18u5JcFNLM

Wednesday 2 February 2011

Birthday: Boobs, Poo and Sexy Berets


Today was my birthday, my 20th birthday to be precise. I know everyone always says you still feel the same but today I actually do feel older and more of a lady.


This is shocking news to anyone who knows me. Ladette would probably spring to mind at the mention of my name...


...Although, I hope not the skanky ones from that show who get their tits out at every opportunity and mouth off old ladies.Mind you, saying that, I was ordered by my housemates today to get my nips out for inspection in the living room. Thankfully my boobs were deemed satifactory by the freaks that I reside with.



This morning started at 7.30am in my life...


I woke up and opened my cards and parcels that were generously posted from all corners of the world; Austrailia, New Zealand, Wales, England, Spain.


I should mention that I woke in the presence of a particularly lovely man named Boyf. I greedily opened his presents at midnight, neither of us being able to justify waiting until real morning.


I got the most amazing gifts from Boyf: an Eliza Doolittle CD (which is, by the way truly gorgeous) and I also got the gift of Glamping. Glamping is glamorous camping. We are booked into a tent (wait for it) which has the same standards as a 5 star hotel with undefloor heating, a huuuge bed, a free standing bath and living room and a hot tub outside! Right up my street.

What a fantastic boy I have found myself.


Anyway, this morning Boyf and I dodged uni ("do we HAVE to go to school Owen?") and drove my little hunk-a-junk van to Sandbanks and went over on the ferry to a pretty little beach called Shell Bay. It was so peaceful and fresh there and I love the sea. Standing by the water makes me feel so happy.


I did have a bit of trouble with my hair flailing about in the wind, managing to get into every crevice on my face. My nostrils had a good clean lets put it that way.


Anyway we had a little wander and an explore and I hung upside down from a tree and cried for attention (this is acceptable because it is the anniversary of my birth). We also found this flooded forest and the tress were all poking out of a mass of deliciously dark water. It was so mesmerising.


We realised that what we paid for the ferry was in fact a one way ticket and that we were stuck with no cash on the other side. We had to trek around the fairly ferrel land, trying to track down a cash point. We eventually found salvation in a cute little post office. A lady had a nice red beret in there, I feel I may have admired it to a creepy extent.


When we eventually got back on the ferry and into civilisation we headed straight to Wagamama's to meet my housemates for lunch. I've never had a Wagamama's before but DANG that shit is good. Nom nom nom lovely food and nice company.


Came back home and had birthday sex a few times and fell asleep on chocolate so it looked like poo on my sheets. Did the risky taste test to make sure I hadn't reached incontinence in my old age . ( Please note: It's confising when something looks like poo but tastes delicious. It makes you question a lot of things in life)


Went to all-you-can-eat Chinese this evening with my bestest pals who bought me some gorgeous underwear (which I will not try on for at least 2 days after that monstrous scoffing session. Unless I want to puke).


Now I'm back in my house playing my uke and singing the only part of my newly composed song I have written: a four line chorus with four repetitive chords. Pro.


Drinking the rest of my champagne and worrying about having to get upstars to wash and poo with such a weighty body....


Urgh 9am start tomorrow. Thank you to everyone who has sent me a birthday message, given me a hug or just thought nice things for me today. You've made my day such a fantastic one and I really am going to sleep grinning so much my eyes hurt. Love you all so much


That's all for now...


Jojo


I wrote this post listening to: Eliza Doolittle :) ( of course)

Monday 17 January 2011

This is how we do it!


Ahh so my exam is over and my mind is feeling a lot less fluffy. My housemates are back in and my onesie is on.


My Tesco delivery is hopefully on its way with loads of yummy vegetables and ice lollies in it.


I've lost my gym card. I hope I find it soon. I paid a lot for my membership and would like nothing more than to be able to sweat out some toxins and have a yoga sesh.


Getting back into the swing of excercise is probably the hardest bit of keeping fit. I always find if I haven't been for a while it takes mammouth will power to force myself to go.


I normally use techniques to trick myself into it.


Technique 1: Stand in the mirror in ugly underwear and kinda crouch over like a hunchback, resulting in rolls and a grimace. (this one is quite brutal but serves its purpose).


Technique 2: Get into gym clothes and watch America's next top model- sure fire way to feel obese.


Technique 3: Facebook stalk for thinspiration then find really horrid pictures of myself to compare with.


Teqnique 4: Open a textbook. Procrastination can be a positive.


Teqnique 5: Eat infront of the mirror. Preferably something messy so I dribble it all over my fleshy body.


( WARNING: Some of these technique may lead to depression, acts of self mutilation or enjoyment of messy food to the extent that you go back to the kitchen to get more, dodge the gym and draw faces on rolls to make light of a bad situation)



Anyway, despite having a sickness bug over Christmas I have somehow managed to become fairly portly and round. I say somehow, I know how it happened. I ate a lot of potato and a lot of dairylee dunkers followed by a fair amount of beer and marzipan...


I think the constant battle with ones self image is a normal one. If you never care about how you look that surely isn't all good? Surely it means you think quite little of yourself. I mean, don't get me wrong I hardly wear make-up but I do care about my size and figure.


To be over controlling is pretty bad too. people who have to perfect themselves are definately making up for something. Maybe a guilty consience or an insecurity they refuse to address?


But who am I to point the finger? I can't possibly know what goes on in other peoples minds. But I love to observe. I love to people watch. To see how people move and speak and act.


Someone said to me the other night that they admire how honest I am in this blog. Although I feel I am very honest about a lotta things, I'd like to think it's fairly ambiguous, that my honesty is not completely transparent.


I think it's good to be honest. I find it hard to be honest about my feelings in person because I'm scared of offending people or retaliation. Sometimes I wonder how my life would be if I didn't have the luxury of being able to write all my feelings down and send them into cyber space.

It's a tricky one because I've always written things down. Even when I was just a little'un. It's kinda my thing.I over analyse everything and I'm pretty sure I'd implode or become an absolute nutcase if I didn't have some sort of vent.


I'm feeling like this year might have some promise after all, despite a less than smooth start. It's my birthday on February the 2nd and I'm going to be saying goodbye to my teens and hello to adult-hood. I'm already worried about getting old wondering where time goes.


My pals are coming to visit from all over the place and I'm so excited to go out with them like we do at home. I am the token Welsh girl in uni and so my theme is Wales/Farmers.


I'm excited because I'm intrigued at how Ruby and Westie will manage to make something slutty out of Wales...sheep maybe?


I love my mix of friends but I've gotta be honest and say I'm mainly looking forward to having my pals from Cymru here to party. They know how to have a good night.


time to go


Jojo xxx


I wrote this listening to : Jack Johnson

Thursday 6 January 2011

New Years Hopes Resolutions and Aims.

1) Do better, work harder.
2) Don't be a pushover.
3) Be more positive.
4) Take more steps towards career.
5)If I'm struggling I must seek help and not suffer in silence.

There's not much more that can be said except that everyone has things they want to achieve and no one is perfect.
To strive to be perfect is a task not worth embarking on and to strive for perfection will make life harder than it should be.

I think the most you can do for yourself is to do what you love and to share yourself with world.

2010 has taught me in hindsight that you shouldn't give anyone the right to belittle you.

That a good heart goes a long way.

That it's okay to wish time away, as long as you have something to look forward to.

And that life changes everyone. Even the people you'd hoped would never be changed.

Thats all for now

Jojoxxx

I wrote this listening to : KOL