Tips For Freshers: Essentials for University

It's that time of year again where everyone seems to be abuzz with first year jitters. It is undeniably daunting to move away from home to live with people you have never met before in your life, it is perfectly normal to be scared, maybe even petrified beforehand, but trust me when I say this: a week into university or college or that new school and you'll already have good friends. Just remember that university is not like school, you won't just see these people in classes you'll see them all the time. You'll live with them, go to their parties, have dinner with them, have kitchen dance parties, play humiliating and amusing drinking games. The first week of your freshman year will cement friendship bonds stronger than the Terminator, it forges unbreakable ties and you'll have a tonne of fun, amusing memories and anecdotes. It will be one of the best years of your life. 

I know you're scared, but admit it deep down you are excited too, after all this is a chance to reinvent yourself, to finally be the person you have always wanted to be: cool, perfect, witty, optimistic and all that jazz. Fuck that. It's not worth it, it takes far too much effort and who says there is anything wrong with you anyway? You're fabulous. Know it. I know that when I started my first year I wanted to be the total opposite of me and I arrived with my contacts in, skinny jeans and new shoes. I had a fantastic first day, even though on the ride over I kept wringing my hands with stress and had to turn up the music really loud to distract myself. Taylor Swift, very distracting. Everything turned out fine of course, but this perfect image I wanted to convey soon shattered. It's like being in the Big Brother House, it's too exhausting putting on a charade so I mean it when I say be you. It's easier and it's definitely better.

Now those two things are out the way, I thought I would knock out another list for you lovelies to help with the anxiety you must be feeling and give you a heads up about what is to come.

1. Have a current account, which basically translates into using your card in shops to buy things, it's so much easier than looking for a cash machine constantly and it is much more conducive to student life.

2. You absolutely need a valid ID, I do not care how old you look or if you don't drink or buy alcohol, if you're with a friend at the supermarket and they want a six pack of Strongbow, they won't get served unless you both have ID. And you're going to feel like a dick. Plus, you don't have to drink to go out, and yes I promise you can still have a good time.

3. It's your first day and everyone is nervous, do yourself a favour to limit the stress pick out an outfit beforehand, something you feel attractive yet comfortable in, maybe layered as you'll get hot unpacking all your things. First impressions do go a long way so just think about how you want to be perceived, don't go crazy and buy a whole new outfit and skincare regime, simply be you on a good day and not a bad day.

4. Be open to new experiences. I'm not talking about threesomes, it's just for many of you this might be your first time away from home and although sometimes that can be sad it also means a lot more freedom. You can now do some things you couldn't before, you can invite a bunch of random people over to your room to play Ring of Fire for instance, you can have chilli-eating contests at five in the monring and you can walk to Tesco to get Pringles at whatever time of night you wish, usually drunk with three of your closest flatmates. 

5. People absolutely will steal your food. So can all the whiny messages on facebook and just steal there's too, as far as you are concerned all food in the kitchen is communal. Except in people's cupboards, come on now, we're not animals.

6. Make your room your own, if you are anything like me you will miss your family way more than you imagined, so your room should be your little safe haven away from everybody else. Personalise it with photos of your family and friends from back home, have a wallplanner so you can organise deadlines and assignment and exams in between socialising and just generally having fun.

7. If you can see your family, do. I only live about an hour away so I try and go home at least once a term, to catch up with everybody and just to have a break from people. It can get claustrophobic as you will see these people so often so it is important to have a break now and then and to just get away and give yourself time to miss them instead of just missing home. Plus the food at home is so much better.

8. Don't be afraid to spend time by yourself, you shouldn't force yourself to be social, everyone needs their "me" time where they can do stuff they would never do in public. Put on a face mask and pig out in your rattiest pyjamas and about seven blankets watching your favourite shows. It will always make you feel better. 

9. Be nice, approachable and engage, the only way people can get to know you is if you participate, play whatever games that are being played, Never Have I Ever is always a good one.  

10. Easy to cook fast food is your friend, something you stick in an oven for 20 minutes and is done. That is what you want. That and friends who cook culinary masterpieces. 

That's really all I have to say for now, as I think of more things I will definitely add to the list and add some awesome pictures that illustrate my points. Just remember you will make friends, you will have a good time and you will learn a lot about yourself. Just because you have finished school it doesn't mean you have life all figured out, you're still dabbling and trying things out, maybe you'll realise uni is not for you, or your interests lie in a different course or maybe you're finding it really hard being away from home or the course may be a struggle academically. It's hard to adjust but it will happen without you noticing and if you need anything, advice or just someone to talk to feel free to contact me. I would be happy to listen and hopefully make you feel better. Have an amazing year guys, thank you for reading and see you soon. 

Lots of love,

Kiran xxxx

Paris: Day 2.

It was quite a chilly day, and rain was forecasted so I wore a dress with tights and packed my cardigan into my TopShop handbag (which I got on sale). We rose bright and early and did all the fiddly things like showering, dressing, make-up etc before heading down to breakfast where we saw the cute British guys again and flirted a little. Breakfast was good. We had a choice of two different type of cornflakes, one was fruity and the other was more chocolate based. There was a pitcher of unlimited orange juice, you got a bread roll with a sachet of margarine and jam. Plus, unlimited hot chocolate and coffee. I detest coffee even the smell is utterly repulsive to me so I had three cups of hot chocolate which wasn't as tasty as the hot chocolate I recall from the French trip we took in Year 8 which was undeniably delicious, but was still sweet and edible especially as I poured half a cup of sugar into it. 

We wanted to cram in all sorts of sights but essentially the only thing we actually managed to cover was the Louvre. We set off for the Eiffel Tower because we knew how to get there pretty easily and then we walked across the Seine thinking we would get a boat tour because everyone had encouraged us to do this back home. We bought tickets to the Batobus which stopped conveniently at all the landmarks in Paris like Musee D'Orsay, Champs d''Elysees etc but before that we spied a gorgeous old green and cream boat that would take us to Montmartre and as we made polite, basic French converstaion, we both made a mental note to definitely do this if we had time. Also, after said conversation we hi-fived like total plebians congratulating ourselves on our first proper French conversation in Paris. Go us!

So we got on the Batobus, which was a nice, simple boat with clear windows and an area where you could sit outside too. The first stop was the Louvre because we had no idea how long we would spend there and we were both so excited to go. I thought the queue would take forever so it made sense that we would go there first. As we stepped off the boat and walked into the direction everyone else was walking in (informational social influence if you're interested, I'm a Psychologist, sorry, I can't help it) we saw the most lovely stone buildings with enormous lions by the entrance, I wanted to curl up and take a picture with me in the lion's lap napping but there were quite a few people milling about. Ieva and I both fell irrevocably in love with the place, it was huge and as we walked underneath the arch admiring absolutely everything we fell a little more. We saw the pyramids, which I dislike, they might be iconic but they definitely detract from the historic feel of the place. We spent an hour crowding around the replica of the Arc de Triomphe taking pictures from every possiblee angle. Eventually we joined the queue which snaked past the fountains, and a cute French guy with oversized sunglasses and the American flag emblazoned on his shorts was blasting music and being obnoxious. 

In the queue, which didn't take nearly as long as we imagined, we looked up at the statues and tried to guess who all these famous French men were, we moaned a bit about sexism (no women were immortalised, assholes) and then decided to give them all personalities and conjured up mini biographies for them. Behind us, were three Americans from the Deep South discussing politics and Raegan. One of the guys was in full out biker gear and can I just say, I admire that man's confidence. He was a dude. 

When we finally got inside and got our bags checked, we went down the escalator and queued for tickets despite not needing any. The place was huge, and we didn't have any maps or anything, there were so many exhibitions advertised that I didn't know where to start, but Ieva wanted to go see the Greek sculptures so we went there first. Long story short, we saw a myriad of sculptures including the Venus de Milo and we learned all sorts of interesting facts like they still to this day don't know where her arm is, we ogled al of these sculptures and Italian paintings, Islamic pottery and scripture, there were wonderful mosaics and in some places the ceilings were a work of art themselves, Egyptian scrolls, and of course we saw the Mona Lisa, though again wasn't that impressed. I did feel quite cool to be able to say that I had seen it though. 

Four hours or so later when we had had our fill, we hopped back on the bus and went to Notre Dame. Researching prior to the trip we had discovered a bookshop called Shakespeare and Co which was said to be a highly recommended hotspot in Paris. As Mass was occurring when we got to Notre Dame we went in search for the bookshop instead, starving we ate on the way. I devoured a cheesy hot dog and a nutella soaked waffle, it was pure heaven. We asked for directions and got talking to some street artists who were so talented and realistic in their sketches of people, and we also had a stilted conversation with a kind old lady painting for pleasure at the edge of the Seine, she was lovely. You could see the kindness radiating off her face, she was so sweet and helpful, modest too when we flattered her painting. 

The bookshop when we found it, had a queue outside, but next door to it was a Rare Book Shop so we dallied in there for a while poring over old books and gasping when something was as old as trees. Shakespeare and Co is amazing though, it's a bottle green shop with gold lettering. Inside it is chock full of books, they are everywhere and it is breathtaking. It can feel quite claustrophobic and even more so when you up the narrow, creaky stairs to the library section but there are cosy places made up for you to sit, there is a piano and typewriters, it's like you have stepped into Dickensian times. Strange and unexpected to find in Paris, the only flaw of this otherwise perfect place is that it is so well-known. It would be more impressive if it was self-discovered and secretive but it is fabulous. 

After the bookshop we wanted to go to Notre Dame but it closed early for some unknown reason so we planned to go to Saint Chapelle instead which I believe is the oldest church in Paris. We approached a kind man on the street but he distracted us with bird seed, literally, he was handing it out to random passers by and they would hold their hands up and birds would fly and peck into their hands while we all gazed at them mesmerised at the beauty this world has to offer. I was thinking of Beauty and the Beast the entire time and it made me fall in love with Paris even more. So we didn't go to the chapel, but there were lots of stalls full of cheap french books that Ieva couldn't keep away from. After she bought her body weight in Dumas novels we each got a Subway and sat on the bench in the sunshine, feeling like we had lived in Paris all our lives, it was most certainly a Kodak moment. 

Eventually, we came to the realisation that we had to do something with our time here. So we settled on going to the Champs d'Elysee to scope out the lay of the land so we would be aware of what we were dealing with when it came to Wednesday. Back on the Batobus, we journeyed to our next destination this time standing outside and taking videos, admiring all the bridges and buildings. The first shope we went to was Disney and I purchased a Belle mug and a large Disney nightgown thing. And then for the first time ever I went to Sephora and I never ever wanted to leave. I had my heart set on finding the Princess Jasmine Storylook palette because it would make my life complete but apparently it is solely an American thing as none of the staff had a clue what I was on about. I did, however, find a Chanel lipstick which was like my lips but better basically and it is called Scenario (83). We went to many more shops, like H & M and Zara and we saw a group of guys dancing in the street which was entertaining to watch especially when they started body-popping. 

It got quite late by then, it was around eleven and dark so we decided to head back. It was beautiful walking at night, with all the lights twinkling we had no concrete idea of where we were going and even though we both had stabbing pains in our feet it was worth it. We walked past lots of pretty, luxurious and heart-clenchingly expensive shops, gazing at the sumptuous window displays was a great distraction from the weariness of our feet. When we saw the Eiffel Tower all illuminated and glowing I think it hit us both that we were in Paris, and well life doesn't get much better than that really. It was such a defining moment for me, I don't think I have ever been that happy since I was a little kid. We took some posey pictures both just high on life because usually we are both camera-shy, but a photo was needed to commemorate that moment. 

Miracle of miracles we managed to find the hostel without the help of maps or relying on the kindness of strangers fir directions. We found it all by ourselves, which makes me really proud. I didn't think we would ever be capable of that, but by this point I was surprised we were still alive we were being so careless. As we got in and unwound, we met the new girl that was staying with us. Her name was Camille and she was from Bordeaux, she had an adorable accent and was here in Paris to go see the exams she would have to take next year, she planned to go to business school and was a really nice girl, calm and quiet, she adores her twelve year old sister and works incredibly hard. I hope she gets everything she wants. We didn't go to sleep until about 3 in the morning even though we were shattered, I just love meeting new people. It brings me joy. Again, I'll add pictures later and I will finish the rest of my Paris Diary tomorrow. Thank you for reading, comment or contact me in whatever way, if you follow me on Twitter I will follow you back. Hope you are all enjoying yourselves.

Paris Diary ❤

Day Un.

Like all accounts I feel I should start at the very beginning, as in why we even decided to go to Paris in the first place. The idea first came into being during the Easter holidays, my friend Ieva who is a total label-whore but I love her anyway is obsessed with this French designer brand called Lancel that from what I can glean specialise in bags and the like. Ever since she was twelve years old she has pined over this bag and wanted to be its possessor, unfortunately it has always been outrageously expensive. Until, of course, a sale.  So she looked into it and discovered there would be a sale and she could order it online but to have it shipped to Lithuania (her native country) from Paris would cost a small fortune. And coincidentally a small fortune is exactly the same amount of money that would be required for an impromptu holiday. She proposed the idea to me, and instantaneously I concurred. Impulsive decisions are always my undoing, but I have wanted to go to Paris for most of my life and was incredibly excited by the prospect. Although, I couldn’t give a shit about this apparently life-changing, mouth-wateringly beautiful bag that resembles a marshmallow (which is my theory why she has coveted it so much); I do give a shit about going to Paris.

A few weeks before the alleged sale we started planning, we booked three nights at Aloha Hostel online and purchased return megabus tickets from Coventry Canon Park to Paris. It was all surprisingly simple. We planned what we wanted to do there, we found a myriad of things and then being brutal we slashed through some that we wouldn’t have time for. We were very ambitious, trying to fit eighteen things into three days and naturally not all of them were actualised.

On Sunday morning, we were scheduled to leave at quarter past six so we could reach Canon Park in plenty of time before our ten past seven coach. In preparation for this and the twelve hour journey ahead of us we opted to skip sleep and watch movies set in Paris instead. WE watched Pink Panther and practiced our own French accents, we had tea and packed and repacked and then packed again. We got to the coach station stupidly early and already hungry we indulged in some Galaxy cake bars. They were damn tasty, even if it was early.

The coach arrived and we sat together, even though in my experience from travelling to Amsterdam by coach, you should always sit by yourself when you are travelling for longer than a few hours. We arrived at Victoria Coach station in London a couple of hours later and went in search of hot food, we came to a café and had sandwiches. The coach trip to Paris was fairly uneventful, we discussed everything that was going on in our lives and infrequently napped, Ieva listened to her mp3 I gazed dreamily out of the window until we arrived at Dover.

We had missed the ferry. I love ferries, and am always unduly eager to board one, I love the rockiness and the smell of the sea, you just feel so fresh on the deck, utterly rejuvenated.  Instead, we crossed the channel via the Eurotunnel which meant we did not get a chance to stretch our legs at all. It was fine, a total of thirty five minutes so although there wasn’t much to look at, at least it was efficient. When we arrived in France, we looked eagerly at the scenery and all we really saw was a whole lot of green which was nice in its own way and then I shamelessly eavesdropped on the two girls behind us who both led very interesting lives. One girl was talking about how she had ran away to join the circus and that the circus was big in France, she had fallen in love with someone’s cousin and time apart was hard but she was very glad to be seeing him soon. The other girl had just graduated and was going to stay with her friend in Paris, she had an interview so she was only stopping for a few days and was very nervous. It was very entertaining.

Soon, Ieva alerted me to the Eiffel Tower and I forgot all about the girls behind me and concentrated on not squealing in delight like a two year old. We reached Porte Maillot Coach Station at seven in the evening and as we left it started to drizzle but not too much. Ieva had written out directions to our hostel and we planned to walk there even though in hindsight this was a crackpot idea. As we left the coach station in search of a street name we might recognise we came across a tiny, pretty building with gates. It was simple but appealing from the outside, and like dutiful tourists we snapped a few pictures and then I ventured inside to discover it was a chapel. A truly gorgeous chapel with stained glass windows, flickering candles and a marble Jesus on the cross. It was lovely, quiet, peaceful and echoing. I fell in love with this little chapel. A woman was there, praying intently she looked like she was in despair although maybe that was my imagination running amok. I like to think she was earnestly repenting and her piety would soon be rewarded. I am not religious by any means but this chapel made me wish I was.

Eventually after taking dozens of pictures and tiptoeing quietly around we left dragging our suitcases silently behind us. It started to rain and by rain I mean pour, we were being assaulted by the skies and not to put too fine a point on it we were miserably lost so we asked for directions. One woman sent us in the wrong direction so we asked another and she was extremely helpful even though she herself had no clue she would ask others. A guy with an iPhone Google-mapped it for us (Thank you God and Steve Jobbs) and we went traipsing back in the opposite direction at which point we saw the Arc de Triomphe from a distance and “fan-girled” for a couple of minutes.  We saw lots of tall, beautiful champagne and pastel coloured buildings that reminded me a little of Prague so of course we clicked away with our cameras, and by then I was desperate for the toilet so I went to a little café and practiced my limited French. The gentleman was very kind and I took ten minutes to freshen up.

We found the Eiffel Tower in due course and went crazy tourist for a good half an hour, with our suitcases we were easy targets and the dark skinned men with Eiffel Tower replicas on key chains pounced on us, but we just shook our heads and soldiered on even though some of the deals they were spitting out at us were quite tempting, one Indian gentlemen even offered one free as a gift which scared the shit out of me but amused Ieva to no end.  We walked far and then we walked a little more, we got lost a couple of times, we asked people directions, luckily the weather had cleared up nicely and we were fine, enjoying Paris. When we finally reached the street of our hostel we were exultant, we honestly didn’t think we would actually find the hostel it took us a good three hours but we definitely felt like accomplished human beings. Proper adults. It was a heady feeling. I think we were high on a sense of independence.

 At about ten pm we reached our hostel and our feet were dying. The man behind the counter was nice but he was very busy he told us to dump our stuff and go get something to eat so he could check us in when we returned, so we dumped our stuff I changed out of my boots because they were pinching my toes and we met two cute British guys in the storage room. We left and it was dark, we had passed so many places for food on the way we knew we wouldn’t have to walk far, we settled on a small Italian restaurant with red checked table cloths and wine already displayed proudly on the tables. We ordered hesitantly in French, Ieva had ham salad and I had Bolognese and Coke. It was good. We got lost on the way back to the hostel even though it was a mere street away and the sense of independence faltered but we found it in the end.

The man behind the counter had changed but he gave us everything we needed, our key cards, freshly laundered sheets, a few maps, times for breakfast etc. Our room number was 32 and we couldn’t find it so we asked the man again and he informed us it was outside so we went outside and trudged up to the highest floor. Our room was nice, there were two bunk beds, a sink and it was situated right next to the bathroom and shower which was handy. The only problem was it was already occupied by three girls whom we easily made friends with. They were all lovely and one tiny girl called Inka who was actually twenty-seven realised she had been in the wrong room all along.

Eventually, after washing and changing we crashed into bed. Ieva slept on the top bunk and every time it squeaked I had a mini heart attack. We planned to get up at seven in the morning eat our fill and then do some serious sight-seeing. There is no rest for the wicked.  I will upload pictures and videos later. Thank you for reading. Je t’aime beaucoup.

In My Shoes: Thrice is The Charm

I am aware this is starting to read like a diary, so I'll keep it short as that wasn't my intention and hopefully my Sigma palette will arrive imminently and I can deflect attention onto that. I am so excited. The shoes in the picture are wedge trainers purchased from Primark for £18. I love Primark, it's three storeys of heaven. I picked them up because they were quite funky and I have no shoes like them. So today I went to this thing called Pop! which is something that goes on in the Copper Rooms here at Warwick university 7pm till 2am, the idea is you go circling (which if you are not familiar with the term is playing a whole load of drinking games with the goal being to get as hammered as possible, it can get pretty brutal) usually with societies, so I went with Mixed Netball, some of my friends go with Aerobics or Tennis or Polo. It's fun, you circle for 3 hours then for the next 4 hours you dance to cheesy classics and party the night away. But there is always a theme, so for this circle we had to dress as either something beginning with W or C, because the new social exec's names begin with those two letters. One girl came as Warwick Castle, which I thought was inspirational, another came as a Walkers Crisp packet, there was a World Cup, a condom, Where's Wally, clown, children complete with barbie dolls, teddy bears and exaggerated black freckles. I kept it simple as it was a last minute decision to go and went as a witch, essentially I borrowed a friend's tatty witch hat from the dozens of plays she has performed and plonked it on my head. I used the Theodora Oz palette for my eye make-up and wore all black.
I hadn't eaten before I left so I got quite tipsy quite early. I didn't do anything out of the box, but I did see this one guy that I met at the last Pop! I went to and it was incredibly awkward, considering the last time I met him I lost all my friends and had no way of getting home (regular occurrence with me, if you hadn't noticed). He was super sweet about it, willing to let me crash on his floor. But, I managed to get home in the end, and I thanked him via text and he kept asking me out and I just didn't text back hoping he would get the hint, but then he facebooked me and messaged my friend asking why I didn't reply and if she could please get  me to reply. It makes me sound like a cold-hearted bitch but I did just blank him, and pray that I never saw him again so when I did see him it was weird as fuck.
My friend and I left early to get a kebab because we were both starving, then went home to put my witch hat away (it was getting me into all sorts of trouble) we had a few shots of Baileys and then returned with the rest of our hallmates. We had a pretty decent night, but on our return one of the guys we went out with was being really awkward, I was drunk and the last time I was drunk I told him a few home-truths, again not painting me in the best light but I assure you I would say it to him sober and have frequently. I'm the kind of person that if I don't like you and you ask me I'll tell you, I feel like life is too short to be dishonest about things that in the grand scheme of things don't really matter. And I might have been drunk or sleep deprived but I am pretty sure he asked me on a date, and I think that is the most ridiculous thing considering not long ago he was chasing one of my best friends, but I must have imagined it because that is too surreal.
As posts go, that really wasn't very interesting so I apologise, thank you for reading the ramblings of a 19 year old clueless human being I am very grateful and now I am off to the post room, so my next blog can be about something other than my failure of a life. Speak soon, honey buns. Honestly, I have no idea if anyone even reads this tripe, but if just one person is reading then honestly I appreciate it. You're the best, whoever you are.

Birthday Time!

Truthfully, I have never really cared for birthdays, they are fun and you get cake and people are nice to you, that's all well and good but essentially you're just a day older than you were the day before and a day younger than you will be the day after. Age, now at least, doesn't seem to mean anything. I have never been fond of being at the centre of attention and I prefer to just slink away quietly in the corner and watch everyone else enjoy the spotlight. That's not about to change. I am 19 years old today and a little part of me is freaking out, it's as if every time I blink I get closer and closer to 20 and I hate it. It's not the ageing process that scares me, it's the fact that the years are just passing by so quickly and as I gain years I don't seem to gain maturity. Your birthday is like New Year's it's a chance to do stuff again, to start over and be a better version of yourself. But each and every time either of these milestones occur I always fail, when I got to university the first thing I wanted to do was reinvent myself, be the person I have always aspired to be, but pretty soon after the first week I felt myself slip back into old habits, it's just difficult to maintain a certain amount of effort at all times. I'm lazy. Might as well just admit it.

I think the predominant issue with this is that whenever I want to be or do something different it's always surface stuff, it involves spending and essentially is just a by-product of low self-esteem. Everyone has days when they feel a little bit low and can't help comparing themselves to their prettier, slimmer, funnier, smarter friends and it's horrible to feel like you are never going to match up. It's quite bold of me to say: I'm done with that, because in all honestly I don't think I'll ever be. I like pretty things and pretty (inside and out, I am not a shallow bitch who chooses her friends purely based on their looks) people, I wouldn't be friends with them if they didn't have great qualities. I have countlessly looked in the mirror and disliked what I saw, nobody is perfect and it seems as though everyone wants what they can't have.

Back to the task in hand though, I'm 19 and my exams are finished. I am still young, single and moderately sexy, and it's time for yet again another reinvention. My fresher's year is coming to an end and I have three weeks of stress-free fun in the sun (fingers crossed) so instead of overhauling my appearance, losing weight, purchasing the newest foundation or any of those other things that I would usually do to make myself feel better. Instead, this time, I am going to change my state of mind, it is time to be fearless and a little bit daring.
One of my close friends has always said to me that if you have the slightest bit of doubt or discomfort about something then don't do it, and I wholeheartedly agree with that. On the other hand, if you want to do something and you get that excited "I shouldn't but I really want to" fluttery feeling that kleptomaniacs get when they lift a nail varnish from Boots then I say go for it. Obviously, I am not talking anything illegal or harmful, I am not going to start dropping acid or going to orgies in the wood, fear not. But I do intend to do one thing every day without caring of the consequences, I want to maximise the amount of fun I have in the next three years because even if I have to retake my first year it won't be the same.

So for the next three weeks I will post an "In Her Shoes" profile, they'll be my shoes and they will probably be in terrible condition and if I can get a decent picture I'll include my outfit. And yes, I got the idea from Ugly Betty, I know it's finished but I am just so obsessed with this show, I could watch it all day, every day.


 In addition to this, I'll blog about my day and my new fearless attitude. Honestly, this will probably only last a week, because I only have so many shoes, but I'll keep you updated anyhow.

So Happy Birthday to me . . . Happy Birthday to me . . . and now for my first post before I have a long hot shower, hot because I am in it. Thank you for reading, if even one person is interested in this it would make my year. Please comment, get in touch, any and all feedback is welcomed.