Just a little quote I plucked out the air

"I love that feeling when you know you're not just wanted, but needed by him. That feeling of irresistible lust and passion. The feeling when the fireworks finally start and everything around drops away until it's only the both of you in the world. But there's one certain thing about great things such as fireworks... They come to an end, and when they come to an end, everyone goes home. And that's the best feeling, knowing that you don't have to stand around and wait for the next show, you get to go home and relive it all again next time."

Summer lovin', hating and everything in between

Welcome to summer guys and girls. But don't get your hopes up too much because then you end up like us, the notorious terrible twosome.

Sat on the bed smoking and contemplating how people flirt in today's day and age, we're both utterly clueless. A newly single and a serial friend with benefits, we're both a little rusty in the dating department. 

An hour later and Miss just-got-out-a-relationship has recieved a Facebook request to sit on some very excited guys face. Maybe we're being too forward? God knows are flirting practise dummy seems to think so.

I've taken a slightly different approach... It's called the sit back, watch and laugh. 

When did flirting become the be all and end all of every sexual partner? My sexy talk/ flirting has always both begun and ended in the bedroom, so why does my availability and general need for sex now have to be posted on social media for all worthy and non-worthy possible fucks to see? 

And when did "I want to sit on your face" become a valid pick up line. Of course you have to respect the guy for putting himself out there so bluntly. 

As newly single as my twosome counterpart is, her own blog post about taking the moral high ground may need rethinking.

"FUCK THE MORAL HIGH GROUND!" We shout as we realise that we've been clearly ruining the first part of our summer. We're young, sassy and the "perfect combination of sexy and cute" to quote the crappy, girly romcom Crazy Stupid Love - a working title for my life. 

Between maybe imagining a cosmic undeniable attraction and sustaining the longest and most successful friends with benefits in history; a terrible love life from the past and the infidelity I promised I'd never committed. Life and love are both very complicated things. 

Whilst all these normal thoughts of a nearly 19 year old student (it's my birthday in 1 hour) are rushing through my brain, who has time to contemplate the mentally exhausted chess game of flirting? 

On Saturday I'll do what I want and act like me. It's not time to be loosing myself and it's most certainly not time for the terrible twosome to stop being terrible.

Peace out.

Birthday Fever

Everyone does it (or at least I hope they do). Your Birthday is around the corner, and all these plans come to mind. What you're going to wear, what you're going to do; who you're going to invite and who you're not. But the day looms closer, reality sinks in. Turns out, no matter how old I am, I'm still not Carrie from Sex and the City and I'm not going to be getting a pair of Manolo Blahnik's for a present, and neither will I be wearing them out for cocktails in London or New York.

They may break my neck but god they're
so beautiful!

Being a country bumpkin and going to university so close to London, it's really easy to get caught up in all the crazy city life. The expensive clothes, the constant glamour and the roof top lunches about 500m from the ground. It's easy to forget my Cornish roots. The most glamorous I've ever been was at my school graduation prom, it's hard feeling comfortable in slacks around slick city chics.

Good bye city life, hello Cornish life

Having to divide your home life and uni life is one of the hardest bits of growing up. Having no choice but to be an adult and have responsibilities at uni and look smart so people take me seriously and then being able to go home, let my down and fit back in to my life on the beach... it's not hard to get lost in yourself. A schizophrenic life.

But fuck it... I'm turning 19, I have my whole life to pretend to be a city chic.

On my birthday I'll be donning a tie die mini dress and boots and hitting the carnival night life of where I live in my little town in little Cornwall. So it's not Sex and the City, and so I was a little disappointed that it wasn't going to be all glam and stuff but this is who I am. Besides, I hate wearing high heels, even if they are Monolo Blahnik's .... So where's that beach?!

Peace Out.