Why I disappeared from my own blog

It's been a hot minute since I wrote anything on this blog.

 Two and a half years to be exact. And while there was a time that I, in a dissatisfied and imposter-syndrome fueled breakdown, deleted all of my posts and pledged to start again fresh it seems that I completely abandoned that notion and fucked off to god knows where to live my life away from my blog. My writing style, I imagine, has probably changed. Probably not for the better since I very rarely sit down to write anything that isn't a dumb 2 AM tweet, pressing send and then later deleting when I realise how embarrassing I am. I don't even use capital letters anymore. But for the sake of not looking like an illiterate fuckhead I'll try my best. 

 

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I'm Not Old Enough To Be An Adult: An Ongoing Life Crisis

Dear diary, I'm having a fucking midlife crisis. Or a quarter life crisis. Really more of a series of ongoing crises since I have absolutely no indicator which point of my life will be the middle or the quarter.

I really don't want to be an adult, but I feel like I'm supposed to be.

But I feel like I've passed my peak youth age, that I've made it to the top of the hill and someone has shoved me down the other side. My tits aren't as perky as they were when I was 18 and I'm seriously considering botox. On the upside my eyebrows aren't half as shit as they were back in my uni days, and even though I have an extra chin now, I can contour the fuck out of it and catfish the internet into believing I'm still a skinny bitch.

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University Life Lessons You Didn't Know You Needed

I'll say it - my uni friends are fucking idiots. Every single last one of them is a grade A moron, and honestly, I mean that in the nicest way possible. Yes they are degree educated and wise and the great minds of the world who in the future will likely be cleaning up the shit show of a mess Brexit is going to gift us with, but they're still idiots. But they're my idiots and despite not having a single ounce of common sense between them they've shaped me into the person I am today. Which is likely the reason that I'm such a hot mess.

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The 5 Worst Dates I've Ever Been On

Up until about two years ago I was convinced I'd never been on a date. I'd been out with boys and partook in activities such as eating or going to the cinema and that, as it turns out, is what a date is. 

Personally I had the idea that a date was where someone says 'let's go on a date' and then picks you up and gives you flowers and tells you that you look pretty. I didn't realise that a text from a fuckboy that says 'wanna do something' and who is then half an hour late to meet you constitutes as a date. But apparently it does. 

You can probably tell I've been on my fair share of shocking dates, and what's more fun than reliving the horror so the entire internet can laugh at my misfortune? I'll tell you what, absolutely nothing! 

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