Take my hand, let me guide you through the mish mash of the life of an almost twenty-teen, and show you what really runs through the head of a female with the 24/7 fever.

Monday, 28 February 2011

Let Me Entertain You

As Robbie Williams once said "let me entertain you".

We are students, and as students we have nothing to do on those looming evenings, but entertain ourselves in stupid and ridiculous ways for at least four hours, before going to bed as the bin men arrive and rolling to uni tired and looking slightly haggard, with bags big enough to catch muffins, hanging from your eyes.

Those muffin bags, those dear old friends of ours, are acquired through such antics:

1- Ceiling feet. Who will be the first to get both feet on the kitchen ceiling in our flat. Who will be the first? Who will go down in halls history as the ONE who managed a feat no man has ever managed, who is the bravest of the brave, the most fearless of them all, the one, the only, the great king of Cranbourne? Attempts included: handstands, upside down shoulder lifts, climbing on fridges/kitchen sides/cupboards. The winner: headstand on top of the oven with a sofa cushion to protect ones head. Genius.

2- Using the Sugar Puffs cereal box to create eyes, and taking stupid pictures of them to post on Facebook. Sounds boring, but if a baby can be entertained by a cereal box, then so can we, us champions of stupidity!

3- Another cereal box game: placing the empty box on the floor and picking it up with your teeth without falling over, kneeling or placing hands on floor. Each level sees the box being destroyed, as it gets smaller, the game gets more intense! Buy your cereal box now on www.cerealboxgame.idiot.com (smallprint: this game includes small parts and should not be attempted by anyone younger than 18, sober, not flexible or fat)

4- Catch the ball. Simple, yet very effective when new hall-way rules are instilled. Our hall is quite small, so if your lanky enough your feet can touch both sides: aim of the game, don't move your feet, but catch the ball, otherwise picking it up is gunna be a tricky move. This isn't one of our finer games, but when your a bottle of wine in and listening to cheesy pop its brilliant. Score!!

5- Bounce the coin into the glass. Contribute some of your (alcoholic) beverage before hand and nominate. Coin goes in, poor sucker has to drink. If not, the game goes on. Results in scandalously dirty pints, pre party vomiting and oh yeah, extreme drunkenness.

There are many more, but these were the few that tickled the pickle. Enjoy.

Let the henry, see the hoover!!

I'm sorry.
No honestly, I am SO sorry. 
I have a confession to make. And you are NOT gunna like it. 

I think, actually no, I know, that I am addicted to Paddy McGuinesses one liners on Take Me Out. 

I feel ashamed of myself. Yet, when on the phone to my Mumma, or anyone actually, I can't help but yell them out. We have a Paddy-off. 

Let the wibble, see the wobble. 
Let the plum, see the jam. 
Let the apple, see the pie. 
Let my red embarrassed face, see the door! Let the ceiling see my tonsils!! 

Bad times. Never in my life did I think my level of comedic value would stoop so low, but I just can't stop myself crying with laughter over it! 

What a load off! Phewww, I feel better now ;) 

Sunday, 27 February 2011

Gypsy Scandal Shocker

Standing outside in the crisp evening air, the sun slowly setting across the golden sandy beach in the distance, I stared at the huge pile of vomit on the ground.
That's right, my evening, was ruined, my sanity was ruined...here is why...

Each weekend I work ridiculous hours to make some dolla for my weekly Primark fix. Each time I work I happen to stumble across a drama or scandal. Typical situation in my life. Today, was no exception to that rule.

Ever watched Big Fat Gypsy Weddings?

Click here to sneak a peek. Essential equipment required for viewing: a sense of humour, a pillow to cringe in to and a glass of water to cure your side splitting laughter.

Ya know, with the enormous dresses, strange traditions and awful Irish sounding accents. Yeah, that one (feel free to cringe your way into the back of your armrest in sheer anguish at the awful-ness that IS that program. Confession: I do love it though, so dramatic). Ever tried serving them at the dinner table... that's right boys and girls, tonight my shift was about to get real ugly.

3 women, 5 kids, 1 very drunk teenager.
8 slices of pizza, 2 pastas, 1 Magners IRISH cider.
1 lovely evening, 1 beautiful sunset, 2 working waitresses, 1 table sitting in front of the window over looking the beauty that was this evening, 1 very drunk woman, throwing her guts up across the pavement and ruining everything.

Drunk gypsy lady threw up. Oh no. What a calamity. Never ever heard of that happening before! Hang on, and her son pissed all over it, in the street. In front of the restaurant. Where people were eating?!!

I don't mean to sound rude or anything, but *insert exclamatory swear phrase starting in what, ending in uck*?
Please, please locate a toilet, or in fact, just don't try and wangle your way into normal civilisation.

They say on the show they want people to accept them for what they are, to understand their culture and to respect that they are no different from us. They say that us 'normal' non-travelling people just miscompute their ways, read them wrongly and therefore judge them based on stereotypical prejudice. I'm sorry, but no. Cut the crap please gyp-famz, we ain't taking none of that. To respect your culture, first of all you need to have one. To not be judged by society, you need to adhere to the norms and values set by modern day society (within reason obviously). To not be classed as gypo's, gypsies, filth/scum of planet earth and a shrivelling kind of rat then you need to actually earn it. Prove us 'normals' wrong. Prove it, or else find yourself shrinking into the distance, keys to your 9metre caravan in tow.


Saturday, 26 February 2011

Face for a fight

As most students can appreciate, the quest for money, and a good day is one that often fails. Today has been a slight exception, with a few bumps along the way...

I work as a waitress. Simple, monotonous but never boring.

I have found since starting this job that working with the general public, something I will be doing for the rest of my life, is hilarious, completely entertaining but frustrating! Today, on my quest for as many tips as possible, I figured I pretty much have a face that seeks a fight. On a ten hour shift, I think two tables liked me and decided to chat to me, the rest, blind passionate hatred for the hand that fed them... ungrateful much?!

Not only did I get faces pulled at me behind my back, poked in the bum with a knife by a child (shocking I know, I feel violated and wish to faint to the floor!) and get shouted at by an old lady for not understanding the impossible monetary task required of me in my oh-so-complex job, but I also got wined and winged at for not letting a customer buy a piece of crockery from our store to take home their food. Great day, brilliant start to making money and being rich, famous and able to buy out Topshop.

So, in my 'relaxed' state and hightened awareness that people were laughing at me (had a herb in my teeth after munching naughties in the kitchen) I arrive home, weary and tired, to cook my simple microwavable curry. Nope, not tonight Charlotte, tonight you will eat puked up cat food, with a few lumps called 'chicken' and oh yeah, you'll be tired and stupid enough to forget to buy rice. So tonight, Michael, I am going to be, crap-curry-no-food-in-the-cupboard-herb-in-teeth-knife-in-bum-face-for-a-fight girl, with the added extra of feeling ill and having a broken shower.

Don'cha just love the student life?

Actually yeah, there are days like these that make me wanna break down and cry, and wish I was back home with my family, but I wouldn't change it for the world. The good days, the excellent ones, or even the simple moments when you can't stop laughing with your friends are enough alone to bring the bad into perspective, and make me see that although, clearly I look like the child who was bullied at school and therefore warrant abuse from random strangers, this is an experience I would seriously regret not doing. Standing on your own two feet is hard (every Friday night especially!), and is often made harder by stupid bumps along the road, but at the end of the route it will all be worth it!

Friday, 25 February 2011


Hello there, welcome to my blog. Lame and boring way to start I know, but feels totally appropriate in this situation. Only thing is... I can't see you... who am I talking to? Oh yeah, it's a chunk o' cyberspace, just waiting to be filled!

I am an 18 year old student, come alcoholic ;) who lives on a diet of stir fry and gone off cheese. I party hard, work hard. I don't like to admit that I obsess constantly, over anything and everything. I like a good confession, a bit of a gossip, as any trainee journalist does. Oh yeah, I am training to be a journo. Can't wait for the day when I can perch in my chair and think 'finally made it', but also enjoying the climb it appears to be taking to get there. I like a good scandal, a bit of the WOW factor, you know? I write as things as they come to me, it's honest, it's me, it's slightly barmy. I don't sleep, I surf (the internet that is), I write, I work, I party, I chat, most of all... I dare to dream.

So here I am, enjoy the blog. The late night confessions and early morning wonderments of what happened the night before. Enjoy the rants, gossips, links to my interests. Enjoy learning what it feels like to be in the head of a whirlwind life-liver, with the 24/7 fever - constantly doing something.