25 May 2010


This blog could end up as anything. There's a million and one thoughts swimming around in my head right now and I know what they mean, but I'm not really sure how they'll sound when written down. They might not even get written down, best if they stay in my head, for the benefit of anyone reading this, let alone myself. Let the rambling begin...

I guess the point of this blog, if I was going to bite the bullet, nip it in the bud...or...something, is that I want to write a book. An actual book. With a cover. And a blurb. And my name on the front.
Why? Since when?
I've always wanted to write a book, ever since I was ikkle. I remember being about 8 years old, sitting with my little chums at lunch talking about how I was gonna write lots of books about animals (yeah I don't know why animals either) and a girl who's still now one of my best friends was going to illustrate them for me. We had it all planned out.

Hadn't really thought about it much since then, lots of careers took over my determined mind; vet; singer; midwife; actress. Since last year, and the dawning of succumbing to twitter, I've been set on a journalist. I don't even remember how I came to that decision. *thinks* No, I really don't. First it was a celeb journalist. Heat to be specific. But now I've 'open doors' as teachers would say, I want to be a journalist yes, but not a specific one. I just want to write. I want to write a book!

This blog was the starting of my book, I guess. Where I can write about whatever the fuck I want, for whoever wants to read it. It's been successful, for me. So much stuff has come from it, more than I'd ever hope for, and I reckon some big things are gonna happen this summer. But I don't want it to just stop there. I always feel like these blogs are never finished, I haven't said all that I want to say. I want to write a bloody book!

People have told me I can do it. What's stopping me? Nothing really. Time? If I was going to be picky. But I've done too much research as to how my life could potentially plan out, and too much Google stalking of all the people I admire on Twitter (not ashamed to admit) to not actually do it. I have no excuse. I have the mindset, and I most definitely have the imagination and crazed mixed up mind to create a successful book.

I'll need help, obv. Publishers, agents, editors, I don't even know what I need. But, surely I'M the one going to write the book? It's my book? I can worry about the formal stuff after.

I'll get round to it soon, I'll do some pondering, some planning, and start writing it. About what? I have no idea. But I'll do it. I'll write a book. X

17 May 2010


I didn't even do the bloody thing and my feet still ache.

Me and my Mum thought it'd be a good idea to get to London at 11.30pm, find a spot, cheer 'our girls' on at different places and get back when they finished. Well it kind of worked out like that...sort of...

We did get to Hyde Park station just after 11.30 as the walkers were starting to head towards Buckingham Palace. We stood outside her maj's gaff with a few other supporters and watched a few come past at a time, all in high spirits and looking fab. We'd see all our friends soon enough. I then peered round the corner to the sight of HUNDREDS of dressed up half naked women. It looked scary. Like a mob of aliens taking over in Doctor Who. Or, something like that. It was dark okay! Mum groaned and typically went "Whose idea was this?!" as they all stampeded past, all pink and fluffy and chat chitting away. Obviously it was my idea, of course it was, but it was a GOOD the time.

There were a lot of people we were looking out for. Mum's best friend Claire, someone she works for Remi, and all the Booby Dazzler lot Sali Emma Grace Sarah Sarah Caitlin and Claudie. After another huge section of walkers went past, Mum just looked at me with a hopeless look, we both knew there was no hope of us finding any of them. But just as were going to leave to stand somewhere else, I saw someone coming right towards us who looked VERY familiar, "OH EM GEE it's Sarah M!!" my mind went and my eyes shifted to the left of her, "AND CAITLIN" my mouth dropped, "AND SALI! SALI TOO!" and then they were gone. By the time my mouth snapped shut and my brain had had a full on spaz they had brushed past me and were long gone, blended in with the rest. I shook mum's coat like a toddler as I gabbled "It was them! I saw them! Boobies! You know! THAT LOT." I got a lot of bemused looks, as mum pulled me away embarrassed and we started walking with the walkers, up the Mall towards the Embankment. I was onto Twitter like a shot, contract schmontract I needed to find out if it really was them. Photos were already going up but my phone being the shitty thing it is took an age loading them. Yep, it was definitely them.

But I think we'd accepted that we weren't gonna see them again, there was SO MANY amazing people do this walk, the atmosphere was incredible. People singing, dressed up, dancing, all raising money for breast cancer. We felt so bad shuffling through them all, wrapped up in coats and gloves, as the stewards cheered US on. "We are SO doing this next year!!!"

3 hours later - "We are so NOT doing this next year" We'd hung around Parliament (hung around, GEDDIT) for a bit, watching the half marathon walkers make their way back, munching on Rowntrees Randoms and getting interested in a global warming protest going on, before we started to feel the cold and realised that it was 3am and they weren't coming past anytime soon. We trudged back to Hyde Park, feet starting to feel the pain as we felt the pressure of keeping up with the walkers, the cold getting colder. "BUTTON YOUR COAT UP TO YOUR NECK RIGHT NOW YOUNG LADY" Yeah alright, alright...

FINALLY we got to the finish line, there were a few supporters there already cheering the completed half moonwalkers. We collapsed on the gravel and I fell asleep on Mum's lap for an hour and a half...what a tramp...

5am approached and the once black sky was starting to get a hint of blue as we grabbed a spot behind the barriers. More walkers were filing in, some running, some crying, some dancing, all of them clearly mega emotional at the thought of what they'd just achieved. BLESSUMS. 6am came and I got a text from Paul who had just arrived and after months of just tweeting it was lovely to actually meet! An hour later and tweets were coming through fast, the Booby Dazzlers were SO close to finishing and I have to be honest I was start to shake with a mix of being excited and nervous. These people were famous, I was only used to seeing them on Twitter, and now they were going to be within feet of me. I know I sound like a crazed weird fan, but I AM. They're my idols. Suddenly I saw a flash of a yellow hoodie and Sali and Sarah were there! Sarah caught the sight of Paul and came running over, RIGHT THERE in front of me. I felt a bit of an idiot cos Sarah didn't know who I was, but then Sali ran over and with a quick "There's Louise!" from Paul, I got an excited hello, kiss and hug before they ran over the finish line, clearly ecstatic to be finally done! All the hard training worth it. I spotted Emma and Caitlin at the finish line, and was gutted I missed them and couldn't meet them too. Ah well. Paul went off to meet them as we waited for Claire and Remi to finish a while later, both exhausted and vowing never to do it again!

I'd planned to say hello/goodbye to the Booby Dazzlers but they were long gone shovelling a well deserved brekkie at Claridges; but just the fact I'd met Paul and Sali (cheesy moment ->) who without a doubt have changed my life within the past 6 months was amazeballs for me. I'll meet them all properly one day I hope, and I WILL get that hug from Grace one day, she promised me one AGES ago, said we'd be bezzies ;)
So us, Claire and her twin daughters Charlotte and Georgia very slowly made our way back to Brentwood. Mum having to put Claire's trousers on while waiting for the tube. FUNNY.

Got home at 10.30am, found a photo of me and Mum that Paul took, and slept for the day. Has to be said, all you Moonwalkers are bloody incredible. I saw for my own eyes how tough that was but watching everyone cross that finish line was effing brilliant. HUGS TO ALL YOU. X

15 May 2010

All gwown up.

I said in my last blog that there was not a chance in hell that my last day would be emotional.

It was emotional.

I can't explain how amazing my last day was. All the girls dressed up, all the boys threw dead mice and live locusts everywhere, and all the teachers let us do what we wanted.
It was like Year 6 all over again. Signing shirts. Signing books. Signing boobs (yes really) and taking a million and one photos.

We left at 1pm but before that was our Leaver's Assembly. And what an assembly. It was hilarious, adorable but oh so sad. There were comedy performances, dancing, teachers singing , baby photos of teachers, Year 7 photos of us and a LOT of crying. Ah it was crazy. We then all went to a field for a few hours before going to separate parties. Ours was, well, er, very interesting. I won't go into that.

But to nip this blog well and truly in the bud, what I'm really trying to say is...I'VE LEFT SCHOOL. Actually left school. No more compulsory education. No more uniforms. No more 8.30-3.15 routines. AMAZEBALLS. But I have to admit that I am going to miss it; last lessons were really sad and realising that some of your friends that you see everyday aren't going to be there anymore was almost heartbreaking. Then again, duh, Facebook?!

For the next two months my life consists of exams, revision and a hard struggle of trying to keep myself of Twitter. First up, Business on Thursday. Oh joy of joy of joys. *headdesk*

HOWEVER tonight I am going to watch thousands of women walk the streets in their bras. Because there are quite a few amazing people I know walking the Moonwalk for breast cancer. It's incredible what they're doing and I know my mum and I will be in awe of them, and this time we are going to do an all nighter in London ON PURPOSE. It's gonna be one hell of a night. X

4 May 2010

8 days

I finish compulsory school in 8 days.

Legally, I could do fuck all. I could sit at home living off my 'rents until some desperate sod is willing to give a job to a nearly 17 year old girl with a handful of GCSEs. But instead I am following the sheep and going to sixth form. If someone was willing to offer me a really good job, one that I dream of, then I would snap it up toute de suite (I have my French oral GCSE tomorrow, hence random French words popping up) But that clearly isn't going to happen.

14th May is my last day at school ever. I will never ever have to wear a school uniform ever again. I will never have to go through the 8.30-3.15 routine everyday. I will never be treated as a normal schoolgirl ever again.
There'll be some shitty expectations of me to be 'grown up' now that I 'have more freedom' and I will be treated as a 'young adult.' I'm sorry but even my Mum is more childlike than me sometimes*. (*all the time)
That last day is meant to be incredibly emotional and lovely dovey and whatnot, but to be frank I'm not really feeling it. As much as I love all my friends there and joking around in classes, I cannot WAIT to leave and do things I actually want to do and actually obtain that bit of freedom I long for now. Yes there will be a zillion photos, and running round the school, fire bells being set off, and signing shirt after shirt after shirt, but I can tell you now that I WON'T be crying.

After that day it's a long stressful road to the end of my GCSEs. First proper 'sitting down in a hall paper' on May 18th, last one on June 28th. A few sixth form induction days then I can do what I bloody well want until September. RESULT. Here is a list of things I plan to do:

Spend most of my time in London, j'adore London.
Do work experience with a magazine. (HAPPENING, yeah baby)
See as many TV shows being recorded as poss, whether I like them or not.
Meet as many celebs as I can.
Eat to my heart's content.
Keep my room tidy.
Just go out with my phone and money and see where the day takes me.
Have a picnic or two.
Camp out somewhere.
Go on holiday with Nadia (Also happening, HELLSYEAH)
Meet my best twitter friends, preferably without them turning into old men.
Write a book.
Do absolutely eff all.

Wish me luck, you are coming with me all the way. X