The importance of letting go

Early last week, I was sat on my sofa minding my own business. Reading my book, as per usual most days when I get home from work. Then my phone buzzes. I glance at it – I very rarely get people messaging me these days. But it’s not a friend – it’s Mistake #2. Pleading forgiveness for all he did to me, and telling me I was so right and he’s become a man now. Yup. Actual words he typed. The thing is, it’s been nearly a year since I went ‘NOPE’ to his bullshit and swiftly put him back where he came from. I had damn good reasons for stopping that shit show before it devolved into something much darker.

Time Flies When You’re Having Fun

My Mum pointed out to me the other day that it’s now been a whole year since I left home and moved to Birmingham. A whole year! I couldn’t help but reflect on how much has changed over all that time… I played the lead in the musical ‘Whistle Down The Wind’ not long after I left home to start a new job in Birmingham; I found love and swiftly put it back again when he turned out to be a controlling git; I ended up admitting defeat and coming back home, only to find another job virtually straight away in Brecon; and I finally got my own little flat and am starting to feel like a proper adult who actually has their shit together.

Tilly Toyota

I’m so sorry, little car. This was the last thing I wanted. When I dropped you off at that garage, I really did think I’d be driving you home again after work. These past two weeks or so have been horrible, knowing that I’m never going to get to drive you again.

The Future

So today is my last day in my current job. On Sunday I’ll be moving to Birmingham, to start my new job on Monday! I’ve been offered a job as an Editorial Assistant for a magazine called WhatsOn, and I literally cannot tell you how happy I am! Just a few weeks ago I was writing a blog post (which I didn’t put up in the end) about how hopeless it felt to be a graduate out of university who couldn’t get a job to do with my degree. Which I’m sure is a boat that loads of people find themselves in when they leave uni.

YALC!

On the weekend just gone I travelled to London to stay with some uni friends, and to go to the Young Adult Literature Convention (YALC) in London Kensington, Olympia. I was nervous about going on my own – as a self confessed country bumpkin who lives in the middle of nowhere, just the mention of London sparks images of me getting lost down an alleyway about to be stabbed by some dodgy looking bloke after my (very empty) purse. As you can probably guess, this didn’t happen and I actually had a wonderful time. When I got to Shephards Bush train station I could tell who was going to the London Film and Comic Con – everywhere I looked there were people in cosplay. The minute I walked through the elevator doors onto the second floor where YALC was being held, I felt at home – these people were like me!

Do You Think I Should Maybe Sort Of Write a Kind Of Blog Post Type Thing?

The type of every day language I use really irritates me. I add all of these stupid phrases like “sort of”, “I’m not sure…”, “do you think…?”, “I think it’s like this but I might be wrong…” and all that bollocks. You have no idea just how much it irritates me. Part of the reason why I love writing so much is because I can edit everything I write – I can keep working over a piece of writing before anyone else sees it, until I’m happy with the end result. However the minute I open my mouth and these stupid phrases pop out my inner-editor wants to whack me over the head with a very large dictionary.

Unsurprisingly, this mainly happens when I’m the centre of attention in a group, or having to make a decision. My brain goes into panic mode and chucks in a “I might be wrong…” so that if I turn out to be wrong, it doesn’t backfire on me. Which is so bloody annoying because even if I turn out to be wrong, the outcome isn’t something that means I’m going to be made homeless or someone’s going to violently stab me. It can be over something as stupid as what time a tv programme is on, or how to spell a word. “How do you spell privileged?” “Oh, like this, I think…” The most irritating thing about it is that I know I’m going to do it the minute I open my mouth and I can’t stop it.

Fourth Time Lucky

One of the very first things that is key to learning how become a successful adult is learning how to drive. Boy, what a journey that was.

I had left it quite late before I started learning – where as other 17 year olds badger their parents incessantly to get their provisional license sorted in time for their birthday so they can have their first proper driving lesson and aim to pass as soon as possible, I took my usual procrastinated approach.

The Existensial Crisis

Positive thinking. What led me to this mantra? Having such a solid idea of what I want to do with my life, then leaving university and realising that means I actually have to do something now. Not that I had planned to sit on a sofa doing nothing for the rest of my life – far from it. The future had seemed such a distant prospect when I was choosing my A levels.

The Muse

I’ve been wondering what to write for my first proper blog post. I could do something super serious and talk about how the publishing world is changing, I could even talk about some literary theory – but I think writing about something relaxed would be more fun to read.