Category Archives: It’s not just me…there are outside forces at work!

Reason #140 – My Dad…AGAIN

I was in the city for an exam and Dad was in the city drinking with colleagues so I agreed to meet him at the bar and he’d drive me home.

My Dad was introducing me to everyone when he got to a boy about my age he stopped. He placed his hand on my shoulder and nodding at the boy said, “this is a Fulham supporter. You’re a Norwich supporter. Incompatible…Now that’s out of the way, this is Tom.”


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Reason #136 – I say it’s stupid but…

I am not a fan of body-shaming. As soon as someone publishes a new article about what the perfect person (or part of them, such as the oh-so-joyful thigh gap) looks like, I publicly start ranting about it. Twitter, Facebook, friends and sometimes even here, I will condemn the objectification of our bodies (both women and men) and talk about positive body image, individuality, beauty being skin deep, blah blah blah. I sound like I don’t care if I have a thigh gap or bikini bridge or whatever new reason we’re not perfect is, but secretly I do.

The Daily Mail published this article the other day about the newest body ideal for us to obsess over, the “nipple meridian.” Joy.

So, being the Daily Mail who’s regular readers don’t erm… read…they included a helpful diagram

Infographic from the Daily Mail of the nipple meridian

The Nipple Meridian – The Daily Mail’s guide

Basically the attractiveness of breasts is based on a 45:55 ratio. Yep. 45% above the nipple and 55% below.

You don’t have to tell me this is stupid. I know it is. It’s proven by the fact it was published in the Daily Mail. I’ve already written about my hatred of being judged based on my appearance (most recently here) but after reading this (well not the Daily Mail, I read an article in the Age about how stupid the article in the Daily Mail was) I instantly checked my own nipple meridian. Not only that, I almost contacted an ex to ask him if he thought my nipples were in the 45:55 ratio (note the use of the word almost, I realised that would be really insane and put the phone down).

This is not the first time I’ve done this. When I heard about the thigh gap I immediately jumped up and stood with my legs together in front of the mirror to see if I had one (if you must know, I didn’t). With the bikini bridge I instantly laid down and checked if there was a gap between my hip bones and abdomen (and I actually squealed with delight when there was).

I understand that these things are stupid (and in most cases unattainable) and I wouldn’t want to date anyone who wanted me to have a thigh gap but that doesn’t mean I’m not self-conscious.

Basically, I’m a hypocrite.

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Reason #135 – Football Boots

As previously mentioned, I love football. I’m English, it’s basically my religion.

As I have also previously stated, I have OCD which means I have little quirks like I can’t wear odd socks.

Now usually my OCD has no effect on my enjoyment of football, until Puma decided to do this:

Picture of Puma's pink and blue boots

*eye twitch* WHY!!!!!!

These are the boots Puma designed for the Fifa 2014 World Cup. Now, knowing that I can’t wear socks that are even the slightest bit different, how do you think I feel about a pair of boots that are two totally different colours?!

Yep. I basically sit there, eye twitching, teeth grinding, muttering (and ok, occasionally yelling) about how much I hate Puma (with the occasional “FUCK YOU PUMA” thrown in there for good measure). I really struggled to watch the World Cup because of this. I had hoped these boots would be limited to the two weeks of the World Cup and when Premier League returned I would be safe to watch again. That’s when Puma decided to design some boots just for their sponsored Arsenal players:

Puma's odd Arsenal boots

Puma’s stupid special Arsenal boots

And Mario Balotelli also moved to Liverpool and insisted on continuing to wear his pink and blue boots.

I rant about this a lot and I spend much of a game or highlights show telling players to wear boots that are the same colour (if it’s live TV they can totally hear me!) It doesn’t help when the person watching with me (in this case my Dad) decides to further enrage me by shouting out things such as “did you see that? He hit it with his pink boot.” *GLARE*

Thank you Puma for ruining football for me and also inspiring me. I now plan to run for Fifa president purely so I can introduce a rule that says players are only allowed to wear plain black boots, with black laces, and a black or white sponsor logo.

Picture of blue and pink Puma boots in half blue and half pink box

They even come in a stupid box!!

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Reason #132 – Conspiracy Theories

There are loads of conspiracy theories around and I’ll admit that I follow some of them but there’s a particular one that I often bring up and it’s one of my own:


Yep. You read that right. Lids. The lids of bottles and jars in particular.

Picture of jar lids

Yep. Lids just like these!

I believe these are devices made by the devil himself!…Well not the devil, but by men.

Men realised that we women were evolving exponentially faster them and that soon they would no longer be needed. Therefore they created bottle and jar lids that women can’t remove themselves thus maintaining their usefulness! It’s a conspiracy dammit!

This is my general rant when I can’t open a bottle or jar. (And if I have PMS, as I stated in my previous post this is one of the things that will make me run around yelling “ELENA SMASH!”)

I hate being 25 and still having to have someone open my juice for me. I really, really do.

I know there are ways around this, I for one am a fan of using a knife to cut the seal open, but if you’ve been reading this blog you’ll know I’m very uncoordinated so that is a very bad idea.

Hence, this is all a ploy to encourage women to keep men around!

Rant over.

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Reason #127 – The Boy I Love

I’m in love with a boy and he doesn’t love me back.

It’s that simple and complicated all at once.

single taken in love

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Reason #125 – …and since I’m broke…

That means I still live at home.

Yep. 25 and still at home.

It makes any kind of dating hard when someone comes to pick you up for the first time and first date suddenly becomes Meet the Parents…except my Dad doesn’t have a lie detector…that I know of…

GIF image of Robert De Niro saying "watching you" in Meet the Parents

Image of Robert De Niro in Meet the Parents

My Dad is like this…except he hates cats…


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Reason #124 – I’m broke

I am broke.


I literally have no money, which means no going out for fun.


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Reason #122 – I’m back

I kind of went on hiatus there but don’t worry, I’m back and as single as ever…well not really…there is someone but he’s away at the moment. It’s kind of confusing actually.


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Reason #116 – My life is like a rom-com

Reason #116 - My life is like a rom-com


Yeh if you don’t laugh at my jokes, I will and I will make sure you feel awkward!

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Reason #104 – Even nature doesn’t want me dating

So I went out for coffee with a boy, but it wasn’t a date, it was more than that… I was catching up with my ex. Not the most recent one that I broke up with, but the one before that, the one who broke up with me.

Any girl who has experienced this knows the protocol – you have to look hot. Even if you feel nothing for him and you don’t want anything to happen you have to look hot! You’re not trying to win him back, you’re showing him what he’s missing.

With that at the forefront of my mind, I got ready.

  • Make-up – not obvious but enough to stop me looking like a ghost – check.
  • Skin tight jeans – check.
  • Nice top with just a hint of cleavage – check.
  • Perfectly straight hair – check.
  • Pumped up kicks – check .

Of course I was late (it’s reason #92!)

Anyway when I finally get there it’s busy so we sit outside. There I am being my usual witty, charming self (well, in my mind anyway…) when something wet hits my hand. My first thought is rain (oh my god my hair!) but it’s worse… a bird has crapped on me.

Ex starts giggling and quips, “Isn’t that supposed to be good luck?”

Well I guess I’m lucky it didn’t get on my hair… I easily able to wipe it off my hand…

The point is, even nature is against me going out with boys!

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